#I’m sweating and I just had a shower | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dearieshima · 5 months ago

Text

WANT

✦SUMMARY

╰┈➤ Choso, your big-dick, virgin boyfriend, had never ventured beyond the fervor of deep kisses. His unfamiliarity with human intimacy, coupled with the fear of losing himself in the overwhelming rush of release, kept him tethered to restraint. He wants to overcome his fear and have a mind-blowing experience with you and he needs your help to guide him through.

"Please, please," he panted incoherently, his words a mix of desperate pleading and mindless begging. "Please don't stop... I'm... I'm right there... so close... please..."

✦C.W

╰┈➤ virgin!choso, submissive!choso, dominate!reader, established relationship, hand job (m!receiving), kissing the tip, crying, soft sex kinda, praise, 3586+ words, orgasmophobia, AFAB reader, comfort

The heat between you two was electric as your lips locked in a passionate battle for dominance. Your bodies were pressed close, hearts racing with exhilaration. As the kissing grew more intense, you found yourself tiring from bending on your toes. Your thighs ached, crying out for a change in position.

Slowly, you lowered yourself, allowing your body to sink onto Choso's lap. As you did, you felt his hardness pressing instantly against you through the fabric of his sweats. He hissed at the sudden contact, his hands gripping your tights with a firm grasp.

You began to leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck and down his collarbone. All the while, you grinded your hips against his, relishing the delicious friction. Choso groaned, tossing his head back off the edge of the couch, exposing more of his throat to your eager lips and tongue.

But suddenly, he sat up straight as a board, his back rigid against the cushions. At the same time his chin clashed with your forehead, his hands clenched your thighs, lifting them slightly off him as if to create some distance between your bodies.

He was panting, his mouth wide and his breaths shuddering. "Not yet..." he said, his voice a low, husky whisper. His eyes were dark with desire, and his hands gripped your thighs tightly as he held you in place. "Fuck..."

You raised an eyebrow, concern flickering in your eyes as you slipped off his lap. "Is everything alright?" You pressed a hand to your forehead, your own breath still shallow and uneven. You asked not just because his chin likely throbbed like your head did, but because of the suddenness with which he had ended things, like you were hot coal thrown on his body.

Choso nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he took in deep, steadying breaths. His hands clenched together in a bundle in his lap, guarding his obvious arousal. Then they unfolded and Choso bent down, his hands now guarding his face in embarrassment. "Yeah," he rasped, his voice rough. "Just... need a moment. Can you turn off the music?"

You reached for the remote, your movements quick and deliberate, and silenced the T.V, the sensual ambient music fading away. The room was now filled with the sounds of both of your ragged breathing.

He straightened and looked back up at you with lust-clouded eyes. "Sorry…” he began, his eyes averting, “I didn't expect you to... get so aggressive," he whispered.

"I’m sorry," you whispered sincerely, concern etched on your features. "Should we stop for a moment? I won't be offended if you need a break, or if you want to stop all together."

Choso shook his head and then chuckled weakly, still trying to catch his breath. "No... it's okay. You just..."

He paused, his hands loosening their grip on his sweats. He took another deep breath and looked up at you with a gentle smile. "You just caught me off guard, that's all."

Choso, your big-dick, virgin boyfriend, had never ventured beyond the fervor of deep kisses, not even tempted during in the intimacy of shared showers. His unfamiliarity with human intimacy, coupled with the fear of losing himself in the overwhelming rush of release, kept him tethered to restraint. The idea of surrender, of being swept away by ecstasy, haunted him. He feared that in offering you all of him, laying his soul bare, he might unravel in ways that would make you turn away.

Yet, beneath that fear, a deep yearning stirred within him. He longed to share those tender, unspoken moments of intimacy with you. He had watched scenes of lovers consumed by their lust, eyes ablaze with passion. Choso wondered how they could give so much, how they could surrender fully and still be loved for their vulnerability, how their eyes could carry so much love and at the same time a burning hunger to devour each other. He ached to know that with you, to feel your skin against his as you moved together in perfect sync, to look in each other’s eyes in worship and at the same time, think of how much you wanted to see the other crumble. He imagined looking into your eyes in that moment, seeing the reflection of love and desire, wanting to watch you break apart, knowing he was the cause.

The thought sent his heart racing - the idea of tracing slow kisses along the curve of your neck, feeling the softness of your body beneath his fingertips, hearing your breath hitch in pleasure. Choso wanted nothing more than to make love to you, share whispered confessions meant only for your ears. But his fear stood like an unmovable wall, holding him back, uncertain if he could ever give in to that kind of surrender.

But tonight, he’s willing to climb that wall, just as long as you scaled it with him.

"How about this," you whispered, your breath tickling his ear. "How about you tell me how I should help you? Tell me what you like."

Choso’s eyes widened, pupils widening like ink spreading in water, his breath steadying as your words sank in. A soft flush bloomed across his cheeks, warm and unbidden, like the first light of dawn catching fire in the sky. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve mistaken it for the stirring of his blood technique.

Choso swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. He took a moment to think, swallowing heavily as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I... I don't really know," he admitted sheepishly. "I've never done anything like this before, so I don't really know what I like."

"We've kissed before, and touched a little. Did you like anything I did before?"

Choso nodded, his blush deepening. "I... I liked it when you were on top of me," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse. "And when you... when you kissed my neck."

With a graceful motion, you swung your leg over Choso’s lap, settling into place as your gaze locked with his, deep and smoldering. His hands found your hips as if drawn by an unspoken force, fingers curling gently against your skin, the connection between you as natural as breathing. "Do you want me to kiss your neck?"

Choso nodded, his breathing growing heavier as he imagined it. "Yes," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath, thick with yearning. "Please," he added softly, the word trembling in the air, as though without it, you might deny him what he so quietly craved.

Slowly, teasingly, you leaned in and brushed your soft lips against the sensitive flesh of his neck. Choso shuddered, his hands gripping your hips as a soft gasp escaped his parted lips. You continued your assault, trailing open-mouthed kisses along his throat, tasting the salt of his skin. "Don't stop," Choso whispered urgently, his voice thick with desire.

You followed the unspoken rhythm, lips grazing softly down to his collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth in your wake. Your mouth lingered at his throat, brushing the delicate curve of his Adam’s apple as it dipped with a quiet tremor of pleasure. With a slow, deliberate path back upward, you paused to let your tongue dance over the quickened beat of his pulse. Choso’s breath escaped in a quiet, low groan, his head falling back in a gesture of blissful surrender, as if yielding entirely to the moment between you.

"You're being so good for me," you murmured against his throat, nipping lightly. "I love how responsive you are."

"More," he breathed, his voice shaky. "I want... I want more."

"What do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

Choso's hands gripped your thighs tighter, his body tensing. "I want... I want you to keep touching me," he said, his voice trembling a little. "I want you to keep making me feel good."

"Where do you want me to make you feel good, Choso?"

Choso's breathing grew ragged as he considered your question. "Everywhere," he said hoarsely. "I want you to touch me... everywhere."

As he spoke, his hands moved from your thighs to your hips, his fingers tracing patterns against your hips. "I want to feel your hands all over me," he added, his voice strained with need.

Your fingers trailed from his neck, down the center of his chest, following the contours of his muscles. "Like this?"

His own hands flex on your hips, fingers digging in slightly as if to anchor himself. The air between you is charged, heavy with anticipation. Choso's chest rises and falls rapidly, his skin flushed and gleaming in the low light. He looks utterly debauched already, and you've barely even touched him. "Y-yes," he gasped. "God, yes. That feels... that feels good."

As you run your fingers along his chest, you can feel the warmth emanating from his skin, like a furnace burning beneath your touch. His muscles twitch and ripple under your fingertips, responding to your gentle caresses. You can sense the power and strength within him, and it's utterly captivating. "Do you want me to continue going down?"

Choso's heart rate quickened as your question sunk in, and he swallowed heavily, his throat bobbing. "Yes," he whispered, his voice ragged. "Please, yes."

Your hands move lower, tracing the contours of his abs, feeling the way they tighten and relax as his breathing becomes more labored. You can hear his heart pounding, the rhythmic thumping echoing in your ears like a primal drumbeat. It drums fast, and you have a hunch to where the extra blood flow is traveling to.

When your fingers skim over the waistband of his pants, Choso lets out a choked moan, hips canting upwards in a silent plea. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his body trembling in anticipation when your forefinger hooked both his sweats and boxers.

"Color?"

Choso shuddered as your finger teased the edge of his pants, and he took a moment to catch his breath before responding. "Green," he said, his voice raspy but determined. "Definitely green. Please, don't stop."

You sank to your knees, your hands caressing his thighs as you parted his legs. With deliberate slowness, you parted his legs, revealing the bulge beneath his pants. Your mouth watered in anticipation as you peeled away his restrictive garments, unveiling his rigid, pulsating cock. It stood proud and erect, a deep shade of purple at the engorged tip, the foreskin pushed back, a clear sign of its untouched, virgin state. You noted he was uncut, which also fueled the testament that nobody had ever ventured near his dick before.

Droplets of pre-cum glistened at the tip, hanging like droplets from a leaf, beckoning you to catch them with your tongue. Your heart raced as you leaned in close to adjust yourself, your warm breath teasing the sensitive head of his cock. The salty musk of his arousal filled your nostrils. You couldn't resist any longer. Your tongue darted out, catching one of the droplets, savoring the taste. The sensation of your velvety tongue on his hypersensitive skin caused Choso to gasp, his hips bucking instinctively in a whine. After, you leaned in close, your warm breath ghosting over his skin as you placed a single, feather-light kiss on the very tip.

His hands gripped the couch cushions on either side of him, as if clinging to something to anchor himself. "Color?" you asked softly, your voice gentle and soothing.

Choso took another shaky breath, his chest heaving. "Green," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "I-I'm okay. Just... please keep going."

His hands remained clenched tight around the couch cushions, his knuckles turning white.

"Are you sure?" you asked, reaching out to gently touch his hand. "You seem so tense."

Choso swallowed, his cheeks flooding with a deep blush as his thumb circled nervously at your hand. "I... I'm just a little nervous," he admitted softly. "But... but I want this. I want you," he added, his voice a strained whisper.

Listening to him, you let go of his hand and snuggled up between his thighs, your breasts gently pressing against the soft cushions of the couch. Your fingers, like curious tendrils, began to snake their way down his rigid shaft, tracing the bold, pulsing veins that ran along its length.

Choso let out a sharp gasp, his body involuntary jerking at your touch. His eyes squeezed shut, and he panted heavily, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths until he could steady himself enough to speak. "Y/N..." he breathed your name, his voice a mixture of awe and desire. "That... that feels good..."

"You look like you're about to explode."

Choso's breathing grew even more ragged, his chest heaving erratically as you continued to touch him. "I... I feel like I am," he admitted, his voice strained. "But I don't want to… I don’t want to make a mess…"

He grips the edge of the couch tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. You can see the conflict in his eyes. "If I keep going, you're going to," you say, stopping your hands. "It's okay to let go, Choso. I promise you'll feel better, and I'll be gentle."

Choso took a couple more deep breaths, his body visibly shaking with the effort to hold himself together. His eyes met yours, a mixture of fear and desire in them.

"I... I don't want to embarrass myself," he said, his voice low and vulnerable. "I want to make you feel good too... I don't want to fail."

"You won't embarrass yourself because it's just me and you," You said, gently. "Making you feel good makes me feel good."

Choso's gaze held a mixture of vulnerability and yearning, and you could see the relief wash over him as he nodded. His voice, a soft, husky whisper, trembled ever so slightly as he spoke, "Just... just go slow, please."

Complying with his request, you allowed your hands to reclaim their position, your fingers tracing languid circles around his hardening length. Your fingers danced along his shaft, tracing the pulsing veins and ridges. You could feel him throb and twitch beneath your touch, his breaths coming faster now. Gently, you swirled your thumb around the sensitive head, smearing the glistening precum in slow, teasing circles. Emboldened by his whimpers, you wrapped your fingers around him fully, stroking up and down in a steady rhythm. Your other hand came up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them gently in your palm.

Choso's head fell back against the edge of the couch, his eyes pinched shut. A deep, guttural moan escaped his lips, and his body trembled. "Oh God," he panted, his head falling back onto the couch.

"Shh," You said, "it's alright, Choso."

Choso shuddered, his hands clenching the edge of the couch even tighter than before. "I... I can't..." he breathed, his voice ragged. "I don't know how..."

His body tensed even more, the muscles in his thighs trembling. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his breaths came in sharp gasps. "I... I’m going to..." his voice trailed off, too overwhelmed to continue.

"You don't have to think about it, just trust your body." You whispered, your breath hot against his skin.

Your hands moved faster, stroking and squeezing with expert precision. Choso's body writhed beneath you, his muscles tensing and releasing in a delicious rhythm. His breaths came in short, sharp gasps, and his eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

"Please, please," he panted incoherently, his words a mix of desperate pleading and mindless begging. "Please don't stop... I'm... I'm right there... so close... please..."

His fingers dug deeper into the cushions, leaving small indentations behind. His breathing grew more ragged, and you could feel the tremors running through his body. You slowed your movements, teasing him mercilessly, watching as he struggled to maintain control.

"Y... Y/NNN..." he croaked, your name coming out slurred in his mouth, drunk on the feeling you were giving him.

"Don't beg me," You said, gently as my hands continued their speed. "I can't make you release. If you want it, you need to let go yourself.”

Choso's body was taut, his legs trembling from the effort he was exerting to keep control. He took a shuddering breath, opening his eyes to look at you, tears of frustration and pleasure brimming in them.

"It’s going to be okay."

A bead of sweat trickled down Choso's temple as he drew in a labored, quivering breath. His chest heaved, the muscles straining with the effort of restraint. His eyes, heavy-lidded and dark with desire, flickered shut, surrendering to the insatiable hunger that had been gnawing at him. He trusted you, and he trusted his body.

His head fell back against the plush, velvety cushions of the couch, the softness cradling his skull as he succumbed to the tidal wave of carnal bliss. His right hand slammed on his mouth just as the dam within him burst, unleashing a primal, guttural moan that reverberated through the room.

Choso's hips bucked off the couch, his body arching in a frenzied, involuntary response to the euphoria coursing through his veins. Warm, sticky semen gushed forth, painting the air with strings of rampant lust. Some of the thick, pearly essence landed on your face, tracing a hot, wet trail down your cheek before you could tilt your head. Your tongue darted out, tasting the salty favor of Choso's essence.

As the final, shuddering spasms wracked his body, the last of his release coated his abdomen, your fingers traced the path of the spilled cum, smearing it across his skin in a sensual caress.

“Good job,” you whispered softly, your words a gentle anchor, bringing him back from where he had drifted.

Choso's body, slick with sweat and the remnants of his climax, trembled beneath your touch. His chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths, signaling the aftershocks of his orgasm. His eyes, still closed, fluttered open, meeting yours with a hazy, satisfied gaze.

Choso let out a long, shuddering sigh as he collapsed back onto the couch, his body spent and trembling. He looked dazed, his eyes half open and his breaths still shallow.

His chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath he took, his body still recovering from its release. "Wow," he breathed, his voice a little raspy. "That was... that was..."

His eyes darted to you, as if trying to find the words to express what he'd just experienced.

They widened, unabashedly taking in the sight of his cum in your hair as you cleaned yourself, the crimson hue staining his cheeks blazed in a vivid blush. His voice, still rough, trembled as he stammered, "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for... for that to happen on... on you."

You smiled, the corners of your lips curling upward as you crawled back onto his lap, your body pressing against his, igniting a spark of desire between you. Choso shifted, pushing himself into a sitting position, his fingers raking through his disheveled hair in a mixture of embarrassment and lust. "It's okay," you reassured him, the warmth in your tone inviting. "I liked it, and you were enjoying yourself so it's okay."

Choso's blush deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears as he admitted, "I... I did enjoy myself." His voice quivered, the intensity of his confession palpable. "A lot. Like...a lot a lot."

"That's good," you murmured, your voice a soft caress against Choso's ear, as you eased yourself onto his lap. The heat of his body enveloped you, and you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Your fingers threaded through his hair, each stroke a tender exploration, eliciting a low, contented sigh from the man beneath you.

His strong arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer, their warmth a comforting embrace. Choso leaned into your touch, his body yielding to the gentle pressure of your fingertips, the tension in his muscles dissolving like snow under a spring sun.

"I don't think I've ever felt so..." he began, struggling to find the right word. "So... spent. But in a good way."

Your eyes met his in a brief, intimate glance, and you offered a small, knowing smile. "Do you feel as if the weight of the world has been lifted, if only for a moment?"

Choso considered your words, his brow furrowing before he shook his head.

Your head tilted to the side, an innocent quirk to your expression as you gazed up at him, the flicker of curiosity in your eyes. "Hm? Why?"

He returned your gaze, his own eyes now smoldering with a newfound hunger, the fire of lust consuming the depths of his gaze. The intensity of it shot a shiver down your spine.

"I... I feel relaxed," he began, his voice slow and deliberate, "but I also feel... I feel like I need more. You haven't cum yet."

"I’m okay, Cho. Tonight was just about you."

Choso's head shook from side to side. "No," he said huskily. His fingers drawn circles on your waist as his hold on them tightened. He looked at you, his pupils widening and a blush settling in his face. "I want to make you feel good too. I don't want to be the only one to feel this."

part 2

#choso #choso x female reader #choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #─𝖌𝖆𝖘𝖕!.✦#─𝕳𝖎𝖒𝖇𝖔𝖘.✦#zayne fic is coming next 🙂‍↕️

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago

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𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛

LADS Men and a cramp simulator. This is how I imagine they would handle it.

A/N: I’ve gotten many requests for a cramp simulator so this is for those who wanna torture their man hehe

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Before]

Of course he is berating you with questions. Where did you get this? why do you want him to do this? Will this have long lasting effects?

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad so he’s having a hard time understanding why you want to cause him immense pain

Agrees anyway because he will always do whatever you want him to do

[During]

This would be one of the rare moments you see Zayne break his calm cool and collected composure

“Are you sure you’re not having a heart attack every month?” He’s leaning on any surface he can find long after you’ve taken the simulator off of him

I imagine he has a high pain tolerance, but this was too much “You can turn it off now” you turn it up. “My love please turn it off” red in the face sweating and hands are shaking

[After]

You gave him your heating pad to help with the lingering pain “I was unaware of what you were dealing with every month”

Prepare to be pampered every time you get your period now; he's stocking up all your feminine products, tea, heating pads, painkillers, and your favorite foods and snacks

Monitors your heart closely during the week because he's worried you might have a heart attack

Brings up the option of medical grade painkillers, but immediately changes his mind because he doesn’t want you getting addicted

“Next time you start you period just take the week off” insists you stay home and let him take care of you, bringing you tea and rubbing your stomach

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Before]

Overconfident to start — he can sense when you’re not feeling well, but can’t sense your cramp pain he just knows you’re not okay

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad, but "there’s no way they’re that bad" he has a high pain tolerance so “this will be a piece of cake turn it up”

[During]

Trying to hide the grimace on his face when he feels the first ‘cramp’ “Keep going?” “Yea this is nothing” he’s already sweating

Screaming, whining, crying and damn near throwing up “I’m dying there’s no way im not dying I see the light” “You’re not dying” “YES I AM”

“This is what you go through? No wonder you’re so mean” “I was being nice this is what I actually feel” you turn it up and he throws himself on the floor “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY TURN IT OFF PLEASE” gasping for air as he rolls around

[After]

Leaves you little snacks and gifts outside the door whenever you get your period now

Has never asked “Is it really that bad?” again because he knows the answer now; gets pains just thinking about it

Had to go lay down and take a nap after you took the simulator off of him.

Stocks up on heating pads and rubs your stomach and back religiously now

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Before]

Isn’t nervous, but also isn't excited “I’m ready”

Is only doing this because you promised him hotpot afterwards

“You’re no stranger to pain” “Im not a masochist” “Debatable”

[During]

The pain was so bad that it pissed him off “This is complete bullshit” “I’m not interested in continuing this turn it off please”

When you turn it up so show him what you actually experience he’s kneeling at your feet begging you to turn it off “My Star please I understand please end this”

Accidentally grips whatever is near him so hard he breaks it

sweating, red in the face with tears in his eyes

[After]

Nurse Xavier now

Whenever you get your period he’s making you lay down and take it easy all week.

Is helping you in and out of bed

Leaves either a tampon or fresh underwear with a pad already lined in it on the counter for you when you get out of the shower

Loves these weeks now because he can nap with you as much as he wants

Carries you everywhere “Xav I promise I can walk” “With cramps as horrendous as those? You really are superwoman”

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Before]

Nonchalant as always has almost a bored expression

“I still feel pain Princess, but I'll indulge you”

You tell him to sit down, but he opts to stand

"You shot and stabbed me before I can handle this" "I scratched you" "You stabbed me clear through the chest" "What?" "What."

[During]

Panting and red in the face does his best to try and handle the pain

Breathing heavily and doubled over leaning against the nearest surface he can find

“Okay okay thats enough” brought him to knees once again “I thought you could handle pain?” “That does not mean I enjoy it”

Has to sit down for a while completely still like a statue after that

[After]

Already pampered you during your periods, but he’s upped it now

Literally tracks your cycle and makes sure he’s always nearby incase it comes early

Wants you to stay with him the entire time “I need to go to work Sylus” “No you don’t you need to rest”

Makes a nesting bed for you and is at your beckoned call

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machveil · 4 months ago

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I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

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uluvjay · 3 months ago

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4 for me, 4 for you-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which Lando has reached his fourth career win and decides to show his partner how appreciative he is of her constant support throughout them all

Warnings?; SMUT, multiple orgasms, cursing, kissing, semi-public sex, car action, drinking/ mentions of alcohol, sorry if I missed any errors!

Lando pushed his way through bodies dressed in papaya his eyes searching all around for your familiar frame, people called his name left and right but he was determined to find you.

He had only saw you for a split second before he was rushed off towards the post race conference and it had been an hour since that.

Rushing up the stairs of the McLaren hospitality suite he made it to the door of his drivers room, pushing open the wood he found you sitting on the small couch.

He smiled the second your eyes met, catching your excited frame as you jumped from the couch and into his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” You cheered as you pressed kissed all over his face.

Lando giggled at your antics pressing your warm body closer to his as he caught your lips and licked them in a sweet kiss.

You smirked when you heard him grunt as your fingers tangled into his sweat and champagne coated hair.

Setting you down on your feet Lando pulled back, a bright smile on his face as he admired you for a moment.

“Thank you, not just for this year but for every year. I know they’ve been tough but you’ve stuck by my side through it all, when I got my first win I thought it was pure luck and now we’re constructor champions.” He spoke softly.

“I’ll always be here for you baby, I love you.” You smiled back pulling him in for a quick peck.

“I love you too.”

“Now get showered and changed big guy, it’s time to celebrate number four and that championship.” You cheered.

“Shit I didn’t even realize that was my fourth win.” He shook his head stepping away to strip off his race suit.

“Number four for number four.” You laughed reclaiming your seat on the couch.

Your words had Lando stopping in his tracks as a filthy idea ran through his mind, he took a look at you to find you immersed in your phone not noticing his still form.

You’d been there for every win and while there was proper celebratory sex after each one Lando felt with this one being his lucky number and such a big with securing the constructors you deserved a little something in return for always being his best support.

The first one came on the ride back to the hotel from the track, it was just the two of you in the back of the tinted and spacious Escalade with the divider up to separate you from the driver.

“C’mere baby” Lando patted the seat right next to his.

You smiled unbuckling your seatbelt and sliding closer so you were pressed against his side, Lando followed your actions by unbuckling his as well before pulling you on top of him.

“Lando wha-“ you gasped at the sudden movement.

“-shh, need you to be quiet for me okay?”

He smirked sinisterly as you nodded obediently watching as he bunched up your pretty sundress before bringing your core down to meet his denim covered thigh.

Your hand flew to cover your mouth at the feeling but it was quickly removed by lando who replaced it with his lips instead.

His tongue fought against yours before ultimately winning, he could feel the way your chest heaved against his.

Your breathing becoming more strained, muscles tense as Lando brought a large hand to the middle of your back-pressing you closer to him.

His other hand guided your hips over his thigh, he could feel the wet spot forming but he could care less.

Not when he had you desperately trying to hold back your cries of pleasure, the mix of rough denim and lace of your panties rubbing right against your clit had your orgasm rapidly approaching.

you humped his thigh desperately as everything was beginning to be to much from the heat of Landos lingering touch to the pleasure burning in your lower stomach.

“Shit” you panted in his neck biting down on the fabric of his expensive shirt to keep yourself quiet.

“Doing so good pretty girl.” He cooed his rough hand coming to stroke your hair encouragingly.

He could feel your cunt throbbing against his thigh, your orgasm no doubt close added a firm hand to your lower back once again helping you along as he felt your movements slowing.

“Shit, shit, shit-I’m cumming.” You whimpered into his throat.

Lando pulled your head back by your hair watching the breathtaking expression on your face as your orgasm ripped through you.

Your body shook against his as you did your best to keep going and ride out your high, teeth biting your lip so hard you could taste the blood seeping into your mouth.

“Fuck” you huffed as you finally came down from your high, lying flat against Lando’s chest.

He chuckled softly at your actions placing a soft kiss to your head he hugged you tight as he praised you.

“Did so good for me baby, always do so good.”

Two and three were in the club bathroom, you were both a few shots deep and when one of your favorite songs came on causing you to grind shamelessly against your boyfriend he couldn’t take it anymore.

Pulling you into the bathroom he shoved you into a stall, locking it he was quick to turn around and pin you to it.

He wasted no time pushing up your slutty little dress, you’d traded out your modest white sundress for a skintight black dress that had him going wild from the second he saw it.

He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find any panties hidden underneath he had a feeling they wouldn’t be leaving your suitcase this evening.

Spreading your legs he watched in awe as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as his fingers ran through your dripping folds.

“So wet and I’ve hardly touched you.” He scoffed.

While he was tipsy and still riding high on his win one thing about Lando and a few shots of his vodka and he was a shameless slut.

He would be smiling bright to anyone with a blind eye but he would be whispering some of the dirtiest things imaginable in your ear before taking you home to do them.

“Please lan.” You whimpered.

“Please what? What do you want from me baby?” He cooed mockingly as his fingers moved tediously slow everywhere but your clit.

“Your fingers, want you to fuck me with them-please.” You begged the Brit watching as flames lit behind his gorgeous eyes.

He wasted no time sliding two fingers inside you, watching as your eyes clenched shut and a hand shot down to grip his wrist, not expecting the sudden force.

“Fuck” you cried.

He smirked watching you take his fingers so well, he moved them in a come here motion as he added his thumb to rub slow circles over your swollen clit.

“So fucking pretty for me.” He groaned lips dragging across your exposed neck and chest, teeth nipping wherever he wanted.

You cried out as his free hand moved down to grip your thigh bringing it around his hip allowing his fingers to sink deeper and hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Feels so good.” You babbled.

“Yeah? Love when I fuck you with my fingers?” He taunted hazy eyes locked with yours.

“Mhm, yes-it feels so fucking good.” You cried head dropping back against the stall door as you felt that familiar feeling in your lower stomach for the second time tonight.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you clenching around his fingers wishing it was his cock but that was for later, right now was about making you come all over his fingers.

He sped up his movements shaking off your hand that tried to pushed his away as he continued through your high basking in the way you sobbed his name and how gorgeous you looked shaking with pleasure.

Lando watched as you caught your breath, eyes clenched shut as your body regained its place on earth and your legs settled down.

Opening your eyes you were met with Lando sucking greedly on his fingers, a deep groan escaping the man’s throat at the taste of you.

The sight itself had a whimper falling from you, the look your boyfriend shot you anything but innocent as he slowly sunk to his knees before you.

“Lando I don’t think I can go again so fast.” You panted.

While the scene below you was one you’d very rarely turn down your body was still reeling from the orgasm and alcohol in your system didn’t help.

“Just one more baby, need to taste you.” He purred his nose running along the inside of your thigh where some of your juices and cum had ran.

“O-okay” you nodded and that’s all the brunette needed before he was diving in.

He tossed one of your legs over his shoulder, his nose positioned perfectly against your clit as his tongue ran through your dripping folds.

The two of you had truly forgotten your surroundings until the bathroom door had opened the sound of people entering startling you but Lando could give two fucks.

His only worry was making you cum in his mouth, his tongue worked in overtime tracing his name and signature number ‘4’ over and over before he’d go back to slurping you like he was a dehydrated man.

Your fingers tangled in his hair sending vibrations through your body as he grunted into your cunt, a hand flying to your mount to keep yourself quiet as the feeling added to your building orgasm.

Thankfully the people didn’t stay long and you were able to let out a cry of pleasure as Lando pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to hit, your fingers that were tangled in Lando’s hair pulling him impossibly closer as your hips grounded against his face to chase your high.

“Lando!” You cried as your third orgasm ripped through your body.

However the man below you didn’t let up just yet, his tongue sped up as he drunk you in and moaned as the taste of you filled his mouth.

When you finally managed to push his head away he was panting and red, his nose, lips, and chin drenched in you.

You blushed at the sight and you cursed yourself for the way your cunt clenched as he traced a finger around his face to get as much of your juices that he could before sucking them off.

He smiled down at your panting form, reaching to fix your dress and hair he gave you a sweet kiss.

“You taste absolutely Devine.”

The fourth and final came when you two finally returned to the hotel room, stumbling drunkenly from the elevator into your suite that Hilton had provided Lando with this weekend.

Your lips never left one another until Lando pushed you onto the king size bed, fumbling with his belt buckle as his drunk mind did its best to operate and get it undone.

You giggled as you pulled your dress off waiting and watching Lando as he finally got his cock free from his jeans and boxers.

There was nothing sensual or intimate about this but neither of you cared, Lando climbing over your body wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his time sliding his cock in slowly, even in his drunken state knowing you needed a second to adjust to his length.

Once you gave him the green light his thrusts were slow and sloppy but still felt so fucking good, the sensitivity from the orgasms in the bathroom was present but your drunken mind seemed to not care as you told Lando to speed up.

He did as you asked, arms caging you in below him as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and placed kisses all around.

Your nails scratched down his back as the pleasure filled both of your bodies, shared moans filling the room as both of your orgasms were fast approaching.

“So fucking tight.” He grunted in your ear his thrusts picking up slightly as he chased his first orgasm of the long night.

You whimpered below him as his cock hit that sweet spot over and over never missing, the added pleasure of his warm lips against your skin and feeling him so close had your body in overdrive.

You two finally came together, sharing a mutual moan as he came deep inside of you, and you came all over his thick cock.

Neither of your tired bodies bothering to move from your spots as the early nerves of the day mixed with the evenings celebrations finally caught up to the both of you.

You groaned at the sunlight coming through the room attempting to roll over and away from the blinding light before being stopping by a heavy mass on top of you.

Blinking open your eyes you were confused to find Lando sound asleep on your boobs for a moment until last nights memories hit you hard.

You blushed as you remembered how the two of you ended up here and judging by the throbbing member between your legs a certain someone was having the same recollection.

“You awake?” You rasped.

“Sadly” he groaned.

“We need to shower, like immediately.” You said.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Lando nodded going to get up forgetting you two were still connected for a moment causing a high moan to come from you.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” He apologized sliding out slowly before disappearing to go get the shower started.

He came back a few minutes later naked, sliding his arms under you he picked you up placing a gentle kiss to your head before placing you in the shower, climbing in behind you.

You two washed each other up, cuddling close under the hot water as the hangovers began to hit hard.

“So..what was that last night.” You smirked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“The four different orgasms?”

“Oh” he smirked.

“Well I had four wins and I felt like you deserved to have four of your own rewards as well.” He shrugged.

“You’re so stupid.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

“Oh please you loved it.” He scoffed.

And you truly couldn’t argue with that one.

#lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando x reader #lando norris #formula one smut #formula one fluff #formula one fic #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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rmview · 2 months ago

Text

accidentally sending a nude, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — what happens when the stray kids boys accidentally send you an inappropriate picture!

contents — crack, flirting, suggestive.

bang ⁺ chan

bang chan was known for being responsible and composed, but even the most reliable people had their moments. he had been working late, distractedly multitasking between responding to texts from the members, fans, and — most nerve-wracking of all — you.

you two had been flirting back and forth for weeks, and tonight was no different. your witty banter put him in a good mood, and before he knew it, he was sending a selfie from the gym, shirt drenched in sweat.

but in his rush, he didn’t notice that the picture he sent wasn’t the one he intended. instead of the gym selfie, it was an older picture—one of him just out of the shower, shirtless, with a towel slung dangerously low on his hips.

seconds later, he realized his mistake.

his heart stopped.

“oh my god,” he muttered, staring at his phone in horror as the “read” indicator popped up. his mind raced. should he delete the message? send a follow-up explanation? throw his phone into the nearest body of water?

before he could do anything, your reply came through.

...well, that’s not what i expected, but i’m not complaining.

his face turned a deep shade of red as he ran a hand through his hair, groaning in embarrassment.

“i am so sorry,” he quickly typed, his thumbs trembling as he sent the message. “that was not meant for you. i was trying to send a gym selfie. please ignore that. oh my god, i’m mortified.”

you replied almost immediately.

relax, chan. it’s not like i haven’t imagined you looking like that anyway. 😉

his jaw dropped. was this flirting? were you actually flirting back after he’d just humiliated himself?

“wait… really?” he replied, cautious yet intrigued.

really. but next time, make sure you send the right picture.

chan exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he smiled at the screen. “noted,” he typed back, still mortified but secretly thrilled. maybe his mistake wasn’t such a disaster after all.

felix ⁺

felix was a bit of a perfectionist, especially when it came to interactions with you. he’d spent weeks carefully navigating the line between friendly and flirty, hoping to gauge your interest without coming on too strong.

so when he accidentally sent that picture, he nearly dropped his phone in panic.

he’d just finished a workout and taken a picture to check his progress — a mirror selfie of him shirtless, muscles taut, and a playful smirk on his face. he’d meant to send it to chan, but somehow, it ended up in your chat.

“no, no, no, no!” felix exclaimed, his freckles standing out against the sudden flush of his cheeks.

he stared at the screen in horror, the little “delivered” icon taunting him.

your reply came faster than he expected.

wow… nice progress, felix. 👀

he froze. were you teasing him? he wasn’t sure if he should laugh, apologize, or crawl under a rock. finally, he decided to address it head-on.

“i am so sorry!” he typed furiously. “that was not meant for you. please ignore it. i’m mortified.”

you replied with a laughing emoji.

it’s fine. honestly, i didn’t know you were this fit. guess i’ve been missing out.

felix’s heart skipped a beat. was that… interest?

“well… thanks, i guess?” he replied, still unsure how to handle the situation. “but seriously, i didn’t mean to send that. i’m usually more careful.”

well, i’m glad you weren’t this time.

felix smiled at your cheeky response despite himself. maybe his mistake wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

lee ⁺ know

lee know had always been careful about boundaries. he enjoyed teasing you and keeping things light, but he never pushed too far. that’s why, when he realized he’d sent the wrong picture, he felt a wave of panic unlike anything he’d experienced before.

the picture wasn’t obscene, but it was suggestive — a shirtless shot of him lounging in bed, his sweatpants hanging low, with a hint of his toned stomach on full display. he’d taken it to mess around with hyunjin but somehow sent it to you instead.

his phone buzzed immediately.

...well, this is a surprise.

lee know stared at your message, his ears turning red as he groaned, tossing his phone onto the couch. “i’m such an idiot,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

after a minute of debating whether to respond, he finally picked up his phone.

“that was not for you,” he typed, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “sorry about that. just… forget you saw it.”

your reply came swiftly.

forget it? why would i? you look good, minho. 😏

his heart skipped a beat. “are you teasing me right now?” he replied, his confidence creeping back in.

maybe... or maybe i’m just being honest.

lee know smirked at the screen, his embarrassment fading. “well, if honesty is what we’re doing, then maybe i should admit that i don’t mind you seeing it.”

“good,” you replied. “because i didn’t mind seeing it either.”

for the first time that evening, lee know relaxed, realizing that his mistake might just have opened a door he hadn’t been brave enough to walk through himself.

hyun ⁺ jin

hyunjin had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and his interactions with you reflected that. he adored teasing you with his flirtatious comments and playful winks, but he never imagined crossing a line — until tonight.

he was sitting in his art room, surrounded by scattered sketches, when he decided to take a break. swept up in a moment of self-appreciation, he snapped a quick mirror selfie to show off his post-dance practice glow — shirtless, slightly tousled hair, and his sweatpants riding dangerously low. he sent it off to his group chat with the caption, “behold: the main character.”

or so he thought.

when he saw your name at the top of the chat instead, his heart plummeted.

“no, no, no…” he whispered, fumbling with his phone. his fingers hovered over the “unsend” button, but it was too late — your message popped up almost instantly.

well, that’s something i wasn’t expecting tonight. 👀

hyunjin’s face turned crimson, and he buried his head in his hands. his mind raced with what to say, every option feeling inadequate. finally, he mustered a response.

“its not what it looks like,” he typed, his embarrassment palpable even through the screen. “i meant to send it to the group chat. i’m so sorry, seriously.”

your reply came faster than he anticipated.

aw, don’t be embarrassed, hyunjin. you look… good. really good.

he froze, rereading your message. was this real? were you flirting back?

“wait… are you being serious right now?” he asked hesitantly.

completely serious. but if you’re this shy over a picture, i can’t imagine how you’d react if i saw you in person like this.

hyunjin let out a breathy laugh, his embarrassment melting into nervous excitement. “you’re not making this easier, you know,” he replied.

who said i’m trying to make it easier?

he leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips at your teasing response. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

don’t pretend you don’t love it.

hyunjin shook his head, his heart pounding. what started as a mortifying mistake was quickly turning into the most exhilarating conversation he’d ever had with you.

i.n ⁺

jeongin prided himself on being composed despite his age, but tonight, all that confidence vanished in an instant. he’d been lounging on his bed after practice, casually snapping a picture to capture the golden glow of the setting sun through his window.

the photo was innocent enough, or so he thought — a relaxed pose, shirtless, with the blanket barely covering his hips. it was meant for seungmin, who’d jokingly challenged him to “prove” he was resting properly.

but in his sleepy haze, jeongin accidentally sent it to you instead.

he realized his mistake almost immediately when your name popped up with a notification. his stomach dropped, and panic set in.

your message arrived seconds later:

uh… is this the kind of ‘resting’ you meant to show me? 😳

jeongin groaned, burying his face in his pillow. “oh my god, i’m an idiot,” he muttered. he typed back as quickly as his trembling hands allowed.

“i am so sorry. that was not meant for you. please, just delete it and pretend this never happened.”

you replied almost immediately, and his heart raced as he opened your message.

delete it? why would i do that when it’s such a nice view?

his mouth fell open, a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief coursing through him. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or crawl under his blanket and never come out.

“are you seriously teasing me right now?” he finally typed, his cheeks burning.

maybe... but can you blame me? you’re not exactly making it easy to ignore.

jeongin let out a nervous chuckle, shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

i know.

jeongin sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his face. while the initial shock of his mistake lingered, he couldn’t deny that your reaction made it worth the embarrassment.

han ⁺

han had always been impulsive, and that trait extended to his texting habits. he’d just finished a late-night studio session and decided to take a mirror selfie to show off his new haircut. the picture wasn’t inappropriate, but it was suggestive — he was shirtless, his hair slightly damp from a shower, with a cheeky grin on his face.

he meant to send it to chan, but in his half-asleep state, he sent it to you instead.

it wasn’t until your message came through that he realized his mistake.

right in front of my salad? 🤨

han’s eyes widened, and he sat up so fast he nearly knocked over his coffee mug. “oh no,” he muttered, his hands shaking as he typed back.

“omg, i’m so sorry! that was not meant for you! i was trying to send it to chan. please just forget you saw it.”

your reply came a moment later:

why? it was a nice picture. you should send me more.

han’s jaw dropped, his mind racing. was this really happening? were you actually flirting with him?

“wait, are you serious right now?” he replied cautiously.

very serious. you look good, han. don’t be so shy about it.

his face turned red, but a smile crept onto his lips. “i’m not shy!” he typed back defensively.

sure, you’re not...

han let out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re dangerous, you know that?”

says the guy with his tiddies out for the world to see. wait, i wonder how much i can sell this for on ebay...

he flushed and sighed, leaning back in his chair. what started as a mortifying mistake was quickly becoming the most crack-filled interaction he’d ever had with you. maybe his impulsiveness wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

seung ⁺ min

seungmin was always known for his sharp wit and calm demeanor, rarely letting things rattle him. but tonight, that composure was nowhere to be found.

after a long day, he decided to respond to a group chat message with a selfie he’d taken earlier — a casual, post-workout shot that showed him in a tank top, his hair slightly messy, and his usual confident smirk. the picture wasn’t provocative, but it was undeniably attractive.

except he didn’t send it to the group chat. he sent it to you.

seungmin froze as he realized what he had done. his usual sharp mind went blank, replaced by a surge of panic. before he could even think of a way to delete it, your reply came through.

well, i wasn’t expecting this, but i’m not complaining. 😏

he stared at your message, his ears turning red as he tried to come up with a response. this wasn’t like him at all — how could he make such a mistake?

“uh, that wasn’t meant for you,” he finally typed, his thumbs trembling slightly. “i was trying to send it to the group chat. my bad.”

your reply came almost instantly.

no need to apologize, bbg. honestly, it’s nice to see this side of you. you look good, seungmin.

his jaw clenched as he reread your words. you were complimenting him?

“i didn’t mean for you to see it,” he replied quickly. “but… thanks, i guess?”

why so shy all of a sudden? i didn’t think you’d get flustered this easily.

“i’m not flustered,” he replied, though your teasing and his red face told a different story.

sure you’re not. but for what it’s worth, you’ve definitely made my night.

seungmin let out a small, awkward laugh, his confidence slowly returning. “well, i’m glad my mistake could entertain you,” he replied.

it’s more… eye-opening, than entertaining. although my rose toy would disagree.

seungmin choked, rereading your words. maybe this wasn’t the disaster he thought it was.

chang ⁺ bin

changbin was naturally confident, his playful energy making him the life of any room. but even he wasn’t immune to moments of pure, unfiltered embarrassment — like the one he was having now.

it started innocently enough: he’d taken a mirror selfie at the gym to show off his progress, flexing his biceps with a grin that screamed, “look at me, i’m unstoppable.” it was meant for chan, who’d been teasing him about skipping arm day.

but in his haste, changbin accidentally sent the picture to you.

the moment he realized his mistake, his stomach dropped. “oh no,” he muttered, staring at the screen in horror.

your reply came faster than he could process.

wow, changbin… showing off for me now? 👀

he groaned, his confidence taking a nosedive. he quickly typed back, “that was not meant for you. i was trying to send it to chan. please ignore it!”

you didn’t ignore it. instead, you replied,

why would you send it to him? and why should i ignore it? you look amazing honestly, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.

changbin blinked, your words catching him off guard. were you… complimenting him?

“wait… are you kidding me?” he replied cautiously.

of course not, i mean, if you’re gonna send me pictures like this, don’t blame me for appreciating them.

changbin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “well, i wasn’t exactly trying to impress you, but… thanks, i guess?”

who said you didn’t impress me?

his heart skipped a beat at your tease, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “i guess if you’re not mad, i shouldn’t be so worried,” he typed, his confidence returning.

not mad at all. in fact, feel free to send more anytime.

changbin laughed out loud, shaking his head. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

and you love it.

“maybe i do,” he replied, surprising even himself with his boldness.

what started as an embarrassing mistake had suddenly become one of the most fun conversations he’d ever had with you.

notes: hoez in the house ( my smut fic is taking forever to finish :( )

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rafescvntyclubgf · 29 days ago

Text

𝓕𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂

🇹🇭🇪 🇵🇪🇳🇦🇹🇱🇾 🇧🇴🇽

𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝐇𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲!𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐇𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲!𝐉𝐉 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙹𝙹 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕.

cw | smut, swearing, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, unprotected p in v, choking, fingering, squirting, fighting, mentions of blood, oral (male receiving simultaneously), threesome (<- rafe and jj don't kiss - sorry 💋), anal, spanking shower sex, name-calling

𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓻: 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓮𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂 𝓼𝓸 𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮-𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 💕🩷

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The air at the rink was crisp, carrying the faint scent of ice and sweat. Rafe stands on the opposite side of the boards, his helmet hanging loose from the blade of his hockey stick. His eyes stay locked on the beautiful figure gliding effortlessly across the rink.

You move gracefully, shifting like water, making everything else disappear. You leap and bend, turning like a top—fiercely athletic, leaving him in awe.

He couldn’t look away, not even if he wanted to.

The sound of your blades carve into the ice, rhythmically, unlike his own. It wasn’t just your skill that had him in a daze. It was your sheer focus, the ease with which you did the effortful, effortlessly. It was how you smiled when you landed a jump he couldn’t even begin to compute.

“Holy shit…”

“I know, right?” Rafe responds, JJ’s words hitting him like a slap. He blinks his blue eyes a few times, his head snapping to the left. His teammate stands next to him, his chin resting lazily on the butt of his stick, staring at the same figure skater with addled eyes. Rafe exhales, realizing he’s been holding his breath. He drags his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “Fuck, man. She’s somethin’ else, huh?”

JJ doesn’t respond, too consumed with watching you. Your body turns into a triple toe loop in the air, executing it flawlessly. Rafe looks back at you, feeling a strange mix of admiration and the sting of something else as he catches onto JJ’s mutual desire for you.

“No way she goes here–” JJ mumbles dreamily.

“Nah, I haven’t seen her around campus,” Rafe replies, his voice a little tighter now. He follows your movements on the ice, eyes scanning the sheet, knowing you’d be stepping off any second—his pulse quickens, hands clammy inside his gloves.

The door swings open beside them; a few of their teammates spill onto the ice before you can even get off. They lose you in the crowd, looking around big bodies as they move toward the door themselves.

When the boys fan out of the ice, the skater is gone. Rafe’s eyes scan the arena, catching JJ's search as well, making him more frantic. “Who are you lookin’ for, bud?” Rafe snips, making JJ scoff in disgust.

“Nobody,” JJ answers, letting his lips curl in a smirk.

“You’re such a bitch, dude,” Rafe cracks disgustedly, shoving JJ against the boards.

“I’m a bitch…” He points his gloved hand at his chest, cocking an eyebrow at Rafe. “Comin’ from you, that means shit,” Maybank laughs as he shakes his head.

“The fuck does that mean?” He asks as he slashes him tauntingly with his stick, making JJ throw a punch, nailing Rafe’s arm.

“You know exactly what that means–” JJ's voice trails off as he watches you round the arch of the rink, walking toward the two of them, skimming through your phone. You look up, smiling at the two of them.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, but the words get lost somewhere between his brain and tongue. JJ steps forward, tripping slightly on his own skate blade, muttering a rushed, “Uh, hey,” before Rafe can get a word in.

“Hi,” you giggle and tilt your head slightly in amusement, looking up at the two men in passing.

Rafe clears his throat, forcing himself to recover, catching your attention. You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes again. “That was… Umm. What you were doing out there was amazing,” he praises.

“Yeah, seriously,” JJ adds a little louder, not to be outdone. “Olympic level, shit. You’re probably the best skater I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” Rafe’s eyes narrow on JJ before returning to you. “I couldn’t do that if I tried.”

Your cheeks warm up at their sweet words. You turn toward them, taking a step closer, making them both blush. “Thank you–” You drag out the word, hoping they’ll fill in the blank with their names.

The names come out in a jumbled mess as the two boys speak over the top of each other. JJ slaps Rafe in the gut with his glove annoyedly, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Rafe Cameron,” Rafe repeats himself with a smile.

“I’m JJ,” he jumps in. “JJ Maybank. And you are?”

You introduce yourself, the sound of your name leaving your lips seemingly making the burly boys swoon. Rafe’s pulse quickens as he watches you smile up at his teammate. “Do you skate here often?” Rafe asks.

“No,” you shake your head and smile, “I go to Harvard… They didn’t have any ice time–”

“Harvard?” JJ questions.

“Mhmm… Just borrowing your ice—”

“You busy tomorrow, sweetheart,” Rafe cuts in, catching you off guard. JJ’s lips tightened, brows furrowing as he looked over at his teammate, frustrated with the forwardness he wished he had at that moment. “We have a game if you want to come. I can put some tickets aside for you.”

“Your game?”

“Yeah,” they both say simultaneously, causing them both to roll their eyes in frustration with each other.

“It’d be awesome to have you there,” JJ smiles as he turns back on the charm.

Their coach's whistle rips through the area, tenseing them both. “Cameron; Maybank. Ice, now!”

“I’ll think about it,” you smile as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, still smitten despite their awkward delivery. You walk away from the two, your figure skating skirt teasing them with each step. The two boys stand back in a daze, watching you until you fall out of sight.

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉

“So,” JJ asks, breaking the silence as he tosses a tennis ball lazily, catching it in his hand as he feigns nonchalance. “What’s the move here?”

Rafe flicks his wrist, stickhandling the ball on the carpet as he does the same. Rafe chuckles and shakes his head before looking over at JJ. “You mean my move, yeah?”

JJ snorts in annoyance. “Didn’t say that. Fix your fuckin’ ears, bud.”

“Why is this complicated, huh? I walked out of the locker room first. I saw her first–”

“By a second,” JJ mumbles.

“And?” Rafe asks as his annoyance builds, his stick blade snapping against the puck a little harder.

“Calm the fuck down, Cameron,” JJ taunts as he throws the tennis ball across the room, whizzing by Rafe’s head, making him flinch before hitting the wall, bouncing back to him.

The boys fall silent, focusing on their distractions in hand, trying to mind-read what the other is thinking.

Rafe drops his stick, plopping down on the couch across from JJ when he sees him take out his phone, doing the same himself— he watches as JJ scrolls aimlessly, with a suspiciously focused expression.

Rafe studies your feed–a mix of professional skating shots, pictures at your university, and sexy shots with your friends from your nights out in Boston. He couldn’t stop— each new photo made you seem perfect.

“You’re stalkin’ her profile, you dog,” JJ mumbles, his eyes still locked on his phone.

“Nah…”

“Nah…” JJ mimics Rafe’s tone, his eyes shooting to him and then back to his phone. “Don’t even try to lie. You got that stupid fuckin’ little look on your face.”

“Fine. Maybe. But you can’t tell me you’re not doin’ the exact same thing.”

JJ shrugs, challenging Rafe with his glare. “At least I own it.”

They sit in silence for another moment, the tension building between them until one breaks again. “She didn’t accept my friend request…” Rafe mutters, his voice just above a whisper.

“Same.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know it’s me–”

JJ cackles and grabs the bill of his hat, pulling it over his face in exhaustion with Rafe. “How many Rafes do you know, man?” JJ sneers before letting out a sleepy yawn. “Stupid fucking bitch ass kook ass name,” JJ grumbles just above a whisper.

“You good?” Rafe laughs.

“Never better, Rafe.”

Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance, continuing to flip through your account. “We don’t even know if she’s comin’...”

“True… You DM her?”

“No,” Rafe says firmly, shooting JJ a side-eye. “Did you?”

“Nope,” JJ’s reply comes out quick and unreadable.

“You’re lyin’,” Rafe scoffs.

“You’re projecting.”

“Big word for you, Maybank,” Rafe chuckles cruelly.

And the truth is, they’re both dying to text you. They knew it was risky—that it would come off as desperate at the very least… as if they weren’t.

Rafe taps his thumbs against the edges of his phone, nerves rising. Fuck it, he thinks as he opens Messenger anyways, shooting his shot.

Rafe: hey its rafe. Just wanted to say it was really nice meeting you earlier. I’m just wondering if you give lessons? Askin for a friend.

He hits send before he can think about it anymore, throwing his head back in instant regret, wishing he would have said something else.

Across the room, JJ’s doing the same thing.

Hey, it’s JJ. I hope you’re havin a great night. I don’t think we mentioned it but the game starts at 8 tomorrow if you're still thinking about it. Hope you can make it

Both boys sit back in their respective spots, trying to act casual. “So,” JJ hums after a moment, turning his head to watch TV, “what are you workin’ on over there?”

Rafe throws his hand behind his head, lounging a little more into the couch. “Doin’ the discussion board for English–”

“Fuckkk,” JJ groans as he picks up his phone, doing the same. ‘Same’, meaning triple-checking to see if you responded to his message or not.

His eyes widened on the screen as he sees the announcement for one new message.

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐ 𝓀𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓎 𝓇𝒾𝓃𝓀

The buzz of the game is electric–a sea of maroon and gold–all packed in the bleachers. The student section’s alive with fans, but Rafe only has eyes for one person. You were there, just like you said you’d be, casually dressed in a sweater and jeans, and he swears he’s never seen anyone more beautiful.

Rafe skates onto the ice for warm-ups, forcing himself to focus, but it’s useless. His eyes drift from the game to you. You smile at him, making his heart skip a beat.

“Goddamn, dude,” JJ snaps as the boys nearly collide, his tone teasing but laced with venom nonetheless. “Watch where you're goin’, huh?”

“Please…” Rafe huffs.

“Woah… Look who’s here,” JJ smiles, pointing at her playfully like it was some kind of personal victory.

Rafe’s grip on his stick tightens. He glances toward you again, catching the way you giggle and smile at your friend, hoping you’re saying something about him.

When Rafe turns back to JJ, he sees the same thing mirrored in his teammate’s face. The boys stand there for a moment, the sounds of pucks hitting the boards and teammates shouting fades into the background.

“We’ve got a game to play, Maybank. Focus on that, yeah?”

“Sure, Cameron. You first, huh?” JJ chirps as he passes the puck to Rafe a little harder than usual.

Rafe glares at him, but their coach’s whistle slices through the air before he can retort.

They skate to their positions, consciously trying not to look at you. The first puck drops, both boys know one thing: the competition on the ice isn't the only battle tonight.

The situation took its toll on both; Rafe's focus was broken each time he caught a glimpse of you; meanwhile, JJ’s game was nothing short of reckless in an attempt to impress you. Until it finally paid off, JJ gave the Eagles a 1-0 lead 54 seconds into the third period with a power-play goal, scoring on his own rebound.

The student section erupts with cheers. Rafe glances at the stands, watching you cheer, banging your gloves against the glass, following JJ as he celebrates with his team, feeling a flare of jealousy burn in his chest.

After that, Rafe played like a man possessed: sharp passes, clean footwork, calculated shots until he scored a goal of his own. Of course, the celebration happened against the boards right in front of the student section— Rafe riding that high until the last possible second.

During the third period, everything came to a head. The teams were playing more aggressively, post-whistle trash talk started to become a little more targeted.

Rafe and JJ’s chemistry, usually the glue holding the team together, began to crack. Missed passes, botched plays, and a growing animosity between them became impossible to ignore.

“Rafe! JJ! Pull it together!” The coach screams from the bench, red-faced and furious.

The rival team starts to notice, too.

One of their forwards, leaning on his stick during faceoff, smirks, “What’s the matter, boys? Trouble in paradise?”

Rafe’s mitts tighten around his stick, his blood boiling at the comment and the fact that he let it get this bad.

“Fuck off—”

“Saw you two bitchin’ at each other. What, you fighting over her?” He nods toward the stands. “Pretty little thing.”

The puck drops, and the action starts again, Rafe quickly scoring on a power-play goal from the slot, adding another point to the board.

Before he can celebrate, he gets shoved from the back, sending both teams into a frenzy. Rafe drops his gloves first, lunging at the forward, his fist connecting with his jaw. JJ was right there with him, shoving a rival defenseman to the ice, yelling something incoherent as the refs blow their whistles, trying to pry the teams apart.

The defensemen shoves JJ, sending him back, knocking Rafe in the process. “The fuck are you doing?” Rafe shouts at JJ.

“Me? What are you doing?” JJ fires back, getting in Rafe’s face. “You’ve been skating like shit all night!”

“You’re the one showboating, bitch!” Rafe shoves JJ back; Maybank uses the contact to send the two of them to the ice. The crowd gasps, and the opposing team watches on in confusion as the coach loses his shit from the bench until the two get ripped apart.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” JJ hisses, jerking his arm free from Rafe's grip.

“I’m embarrassing myself? You hit me first!”

“I TRIPPED,” JJ snaps.

“Un-fuckin-likely,” Rafe spits as the two boys get thrown into the penalty box.

They sit there in silence, glaring at each other before one of the boys from the other team skates by, tapping on the glass with a smirk.

“Yo, what’s her name, boys?”

Rafe bites down on the finger of his glove, pulling it off, giving him the finger as he skates back to the center line.

“This is all your fuckin’ fault,” Rafe mutters, his voice low but sharp as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“My fault?” JJ shoots back, kicking out his skates as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Not my fault you can't find the fuckin’ goal, Rafe”

Rafe snorts and laughs. “Oh? You hogged the fuckin’ puck every chance you got just to show off for her.”

JJ laughs bitterly. “At least I have somethin’ to show off. Got two goals, bitch. You got one.”

“I got two, too, you dumb fuck. Is you’re head that far up your ass?”

JJ laughs wickedly, letting his head fall against the glass. “You’re easily forgettable, man. My bad-”

“Check your fuckin’ ego, bitch. We can go round two in here.” Rafe’s stomach drops, JJ’s quickly doing the same. “Wha-What the fuck?” Rafe stammers. “She’s leaving?”

JJ lets out a frustrated sigh. “Yup. And it’s on you, asshole…” He mumbles as the ref skates over, opening the door.

“Me? Maybe if you hadn’t been such a jealous prick—”

“You’re the one who couldn’t handle a little competition!” JJ snarls, cutting Rafe short as they step back onto the ice. Rafe pokes out his stick, tripping JJ slightly as he skates back toward the bench. “Do that again. I fuckin’ dare you,” JJ hisses.

“Calm down,” the ref warns as he skates between them, cutting the tension for a moment.

“I’m going after her,” JJ mumbles as he crashes down on the bench.

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “Good luck with that. You don’t even know where she lives.”

JJ looks across the way, smiling to himself. “Actually, I do.”

“What?”

“She gave me her address last night,” JJ answers smugly, elbowing Rafe tauntingly.

“Well, joke’s on you, pussy. She gave it to me, too,” Rafe smiles that same devilish smile, elbowing him back a little harder making JJ hiss out a sharp breath.

“Game on, Cameron.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

“Hopefully, that beaters faster than your skatin’, bitch!” Rafe scoffs as he shoves open the arena door.

“Says the guy who gets lost in a fuckin’ parking lot. Good luck finding her place first, dumb fuck,” JJ fires back before pushing past Rafe, sprinting to his Bronco.

“Fuck,” Rafe huffs, not prepared for a foot race, his dress shoes pounding against the asphalt as he closes the gap between him and his Audi.

Rafe slams his car door shut, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he peels out of the parking lot. It’s a short drive, only a few blocks, but it feels like forever. His ringed fingers twist around the leather steering wheel, anger rising with every red light he hits.

He pulls into the parking lot, muscles tightening as he hears JJ’s SUV screech to a stop; he doesn't even need to look back to know the race isn’t over. Rafe charges to the front door, tearing it open before running to the elevator, rapidly pushing his finger against the up button.

“Ohhh fuck you,” JJ groans as the elevator shuts just before he can reach it, settling for running up the stairwell instead. The elevator crawls upward. Rafe pulls the door the rest of the way open impatiently before sprinting down the hall, watching as JJ barrels toward him in the other direction.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” Rafe growls, his voice low and lethal.

“Out of my way,” JJ snaps, shoving Rafe’s shoulder as he reaches the door.

“Oh, hell fuckin’ no,” Rafe shoots back, grabbing JJ by the arm.

The shoving turned into grappling, the boys wrestling to the floor. “I was here first!” Rafe grunts, trying to pin JJ against the ground.

“Like hell you were!” JJ barks, shoving the bigger boy off him.

The noise echoes through the hallway—shoes scraping, muffled swears, and the occasional thud, so chaotic you hear it from the other end of the door.

Both boys freeze mid-struggle, their hands still gripping each other’s suit jackets when you open the door. They turn to you, seeing you standing there wide-eyed, dressed in a satin robe, stunned and silent.

“Uh…” JJ starts, but his voice cracks as he struggles to his feet.

“We–Umm. We just…” Rafe stammers, releasing JJ as he stands up, combing his messy hair back as JJ fixes his tie.

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest, lips twitching as you fight back a smile. “That was fast,” you say, your voice light and teasing. “You both smell like hockey, you know?”

Their cheeks flush in embarrassment. Rafe hangs his head and nods as JJ looks away–the boys trying their best to collect themselves.

Rafe lifts his head, his pretty blue eyes resting on yours, replaying your words before his face lights up. “You… were waiting?” Rafe asks, his words still breathless from the struggle.

You nod, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah. I figured you’d both get here eventually. Though I wasn’t expecting this.” You giggle, gesturing to their sweat-soaked bodies and disheveled game-day suits.

JJ scratches the back of his neck, glancing at Rafe before looking back at you. “We just… We both just want to–”

“Talk,” Rafe adds, quickly cutting JJ off.

“Talk?” You ask as you quirk an eyebrow. “You just wanted to talk to me?”

Rafe and JJ exchange a look, suddenly at a loss for words. You sigh, stepping back to open the door wider. “Let’s talk then...”

The door closes behind them; Rafe and JJ shuffle in awkwardly. Your space is cozy–warm lighting, a comfy couch, and the faint scent of a vanilla candle wafting through the air.

“So,” you ask as you sit down on the couch. Your robe falls open slightly, showing off your upper thigh, the top swooping low, giving them just a tease of cleavage. Rafe’s eyes fall to a lusty haze, JJ’s lashes fluttering as he swallows thickly. “What’s going on, boys,” you ask through a half-laugh. “What was that about?” You gesture toward the hallway.

“It’s because of you,” JJ says bluntly, though his tone softened. “We both… like you.”

“Both of you?” You ask with a smile.

“I mean… You were talking to us both,” JJ sulks under his breath. “‘Course we do—”

“Look,” Rafe says, “I think we both got carried away. But the thing is… I’ve never met anyone like you.”

JJ nods in agreement. “Same. You’re incredible. I just didn’t expect him to get in the way,” JJ gestures toward Rafe, letting his annoyance bleed through.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mumbles. “We both know who saw her first—”

“You two are impossible,” you giggle. “I mean, I knew you were competitive, but this?” You wrinkle your nose teasingly. “Did I mention you both stink?”

Rafe winced. “Sorry about that, sweetheart.”

JJ looks at you sheepishly. “Yeah… sorry, pretty.”

“Mhmm…” You hum. “And you,” you whisper as you stand up from the couch, walking over to Rafe, watching as his breath catches in his chest. You run your thumb along your tongue before smudging the little bit of blood off his gashed cheek. “You're bleeding. Did you know that?”

He shakes his head ‘no’ and bites his lip, looking down at you with a smile. “Here’s the thing,” you say, your voice quiet as you lean closer. “I didn’t want to pick between you.” You keep your eyes set on Rafe’s as you reach over, grabbing JJ by his suit jacket and pulling him closer.

The boys blink, their heads tilting slightly as their brain plays catch up with the words leaving your lips. “What?” They mumble in unison.

“I like both of you,” you whisper. “I don’t think I could choose. At least… not right now. Are you gonna make me?” You tease.

“N-No—” JJ stammers

“No. Fuck no,” Rafe pushes out the reply JJ’s too flustered to get out himself.

“—But you two just wanted to talk, huh?” You flirter as your fingers toy with the satin bow at your waist, tugging at it.

“Absolutely not,” JJ blurts. His jaw falls slack as the delicate material falls to a puddle at your feet. Rafe and JJ exchange glances, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. “Holy shit, you're serious…” JJ’s voice comes out needy and hoarse.

Rafe let out a slow breath, his mind racing as his eyes fall down your body.

You take Rafe by surprise, pressing your lips against his. As soon as you do, he’s fighting off his suit jacket between messy kisses, the two of you working on the buttons of his dress shirt.

Rafe smiles against your lips as his shirt falls to the floor, quickly pulling you closer, pushing his skin on yours.

You reach over, grabbing JJ by his tie, pushing Rafe back slightly, and just as you turn, JJ’s mouth finds yours. Your fingers scratch into JJ’s damp hair, tugging him closer as he tilts his head, letting his tongue slip inside your mouth as Rafe works on his pants.

Rafe pulls down his boxers and hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you off JJ’s lips and back onto his. His tongue dips in your mouth before sucking off yours. Rafe slows down slightly, letting the rough pad of his finger circle your nipple, making you whimper against his lips.

JJ steps closer, his hard cock brushing against your thigh; his lips find your neck, sucking down harshly as your tongue swirls with Rafe’s.

“Shower... Now,” you mumble as you pull away from Rafe, pressing a kiss against JJ’s lips next.

“Yeah, Princess?” JJ asks, but before he can snatch you away, Rafe takes you into his big arms, picking you up off your feet.

“Start the shower, Maybank,” Rafe hums smugly against your lips as he gets you to himself for a minute. JJ scoffs, rolling his eyes before heading toward the open bathroom door. You scratch your nails into Rafe’s hair as he deepens the kiss, rolling your body into him, feeling your wetness transfer to his hot skin as JJ turns on the shower.

“Hurry the fuck up, man,” JJ mutters as Rafe saunters over, taking his time with you. “Set her down,” JJ snips as the two of you pass through the threshold into the bathroom, making Rafe chuckle darkly–heat already swirling around, the sounds of water pouring out the head and panting breaths filling the small room from your kiss.

Rafe pulls back, looking at you half-lidded, the pupils of his blue eyes blown with lust as he mumbles a simple. “No,” to JJ with a look on his face lets you know he means it.

You lean in, brushing your soft lips against his. “This isn’t gonna work if you don’t share,” you whisper.

“Do I have to,” Rafe hums.

“Yes, you fuckin’ have to,” JJ answers for you, his brows pinched together in disgust.

“I’m listenin’ to you. I'm not listenin’ to him,” Rafe replies as he steps with you into your walk-in shower.

“Share,” you chuckle breathily. Rafe sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, setting you down on the cool tile floor.

You shiver from the chill as you adjust to the temperature; Rafe and JJ’s hands are all over you fast. They alternate between kissing your lips and kissing your neck, handing you back and forth as your hands run down their broad chests, dipping into the divots of their cut abs.

You pull away from their lips, reaching over for the soap. The boys do the same, their slick hands gliding over your curves with ease–toying with your tits, squeezing your ass, teasing your inner thighs, both too hesitant to play with your pussy just yet.

That all changes when your fingers wrap around her cocks, pulling to the tip, making low moans rumble in their throats. Their hands quickly bump into each other, fumbling to get to your pussy first. Rafe smiles against your lips as he takes the win, circling your clit. You gasp against his lip as JJ slaps your ass.

“Co’mere,” JJ hums, beckoning you off Rafe’s lips and onto his. JJ’s hand sneaks between your ass checks, the tip of his finger rubbing over the tight rim of your ass as Rafe stuffs two long fingers in your pussy. Rafe rolls his thumb on your clit, curling his fingers in your soaked pussy.

Your thighs start to tremble uncontrollably, breathing a little quicker as Rafe’s skilled fingers work on you.

Your moan bounces off the wall as Rafe pushes a third finger inside you, quickly sending you over the edge. Your body flutters around his thick digits as you come undone.

He slips his fingers out of your slick cunt, bringing them to his lips before sucking them clean.

“Holy shit,” JJ mumbles in disbelief as his pretty blue eyes follow you to your knees. Rafe looks down at you as well, breathing heavily, his muscular chest heaving with every deep breath.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you look up at them through wet lashes, your fingers ghosting up the bottom of their dicks to the tip just like you did before, this time just inches from your lips, making them both take a step closer in anticipation.

“Is this okay?” Rafe laughs as he repeats your words, his long, thick cock throbbing in your hand.

“Mhmm,” you whisper as you lean closer to him, letting your tongue flick up his fat tip, catching a bead of precum before it can get washed away.

“Fucking perfect, princess,” he mumbles as his lips part, mimicking your own. He belts his large fist in your hair, pulling you closer. You wrap your lips around his tip, making his muscles flex as you take more and more. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Rafe praises as you gag on as much as much of him as you can get.

You bob a few times back and forth on his length as your other hand palms JJ’s balls, rolling them in your slight hand.

You push away, turning your head toward JJ, before wrapping your lips around him. Your hand continues to stroke Rafe’s cock, drawing out deep moans from them both. You curve your tongue around the bottom of JJ’s dick, tracing to the tip before swirling around his crown, making him clutch the tile wall for support.

Rafe grabs your wet hair, pulling you back to him, thrusting into your mouth, causing tears to spring in your eyes, the water from the shower quickly carrying them away as JJ fucks your fist with the same vigor.

Their moans and breathing get louder and heavier, the two men moving closer until you're practically bouncing between the two of them: stroking, sucking, swirling, kissing, until they’re both mumbling orders telling you to open wide.

You lay out your pretty pink tongue–ropes of pearly white cum quickly panting your face and tongue as they finish in succession; one after the other.

The boys breathe heavily, heads thrown back to the ceiling as the water washes away the rest of the mess on your face, you, swallowing the rest.

“Goddamn,” JJ groans in satisfaction as he helps you to your feet, quickly pulling you into a tender kiss. Rafe fingers lace in yours, tugging you to him for the same.

“What do you want from us, baby?” Rafe asks.

His tongue slides against yours as his large hand traces between your thighs, cupping your pussy in his big hand, making you whimper against his soft lips.

“Fuck, Rafe…”

“You make such pretty sounds, princess,” he whispers as JJ cuts off the water.

“I want both of you,” you smile against his lips.

“Yeah… I can feel that,” Rafe chuckles deeply, feeling the silky wetness of your arousal on his fingers. “What do you want, pretty?”

“Yeah, princess,” JJ murmurs as he walks behind you, finding the sweet spot on your neck as his large hands grab your hips. You giggle breathily as the two boys sandwich you together; the heat of their big bodies keeping you warm. “How do you want us?”

“Just like this…” You whisper against Rafe’s lip as you arch your back slightly, pressing your ass into JJ’s hard cock.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks with an airly rasp, speaking to you like he’s living in a dream. “You want me to cum in your pussy?”

“Mhmm–” You mumble. “I want you to cum in my pussy. And you,” you whisper as you reach your hand back, hooking around the JJ’s neck, kissing him over your shoulder. “I want you to fill my ass—”

“—Holy fuckin’ shit,” JJ mumbles under his breath, riding the same high as Rafe.

“Corner of the bed; I’m gonna ride Rafe. And you’re gonna take care of me. Think you can do that, baby?” You ask JJ as your lips brush against his.

“I can do whatever you want, princess,” JJ mumbles as he pulls you into his arms this time, lifting you off your feet.

The three of you move into the bedroom; Rafe reaches for you fast, doing exactly what he’s told.

You straddle his lap, grinding your slick cunt against him as you kiss him deeply.

You jump and squeak as JJ’s large hand cracks down on your ass again, spanking your bare skin hard enough to leave behind a stinging heat that has you aching to be filled.

JJ rubs his large hand over it, soothing the pain as you circle your hips on top of Rafe, driving him insane.

You push Rafe to his back, the man quickly grabbing your wrist, taking your fingers in his mouth, biting and sucking as JJ bends you over slightly, thumbing over your taunt hole just like before, running a line of spit down on your body.

You reach between your thighs, clutching Rafe’s thick cock in your fist, stroking as your lips meet his.

JJ taps his swollen tip against your ass before gliding his dick through your soaked slit, using your slick as lube.

You trace Rafe’s velvety tip around your drooling hole as Rafe looks between your legs, eyes dazed as your pussy swallows him whole. “So fucking wet,” he moans through panting breaths, your eyes fluttering shut as you take him all.

Your nails sink into Rafe’s muscular chest, breasts moving with you as you bounce on his cock. Rafe bites his bottom lip between his teeth, trying his best to keep his eyes on you, fighting to keep them from rolling back.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe mumbles–his voice fucked-out and hoarse–muscular body glistening from the shower still. He raises his hand, pressing it against your stomach, feeling himself work in and out before letting his hand fall lower.

You gasp and moan as his thumb finds your clit, rolling on top as JJ pushes his girthy tip into your tight hole.

“Sh-Shit,” you whimper, feeling your eyes glass with tears at the burn and the stretch, the men pushing your body to the limit.

Rafe wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you down to his lips as JJ spits on what’s left of his cock before gliding the rest of the way in as Rafe swallows your moans and cries.

Your body trembles in Rafe’s arms as you adjust to two men, filling you fully. “You okay, princess?” Rafe asks softly against your lips.

“Mhmm… So fucking good, baby,” you hum, feeling him smile against your lips.

“You like me better,” he breathes, his voice barely heard over your panting breaths and JJ’s. “Don’t you, pretty?”

“Are you gonna tell on me?” You whisper.

“Maybe,” he smiles as he grabs hold of your hips, lifting you slightly before fucking up into your pussy nice and slow.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you mouth as you look down at him. He shrugs teasingly, looking at the space between you, watching the way your wet pussy drips down his rock-hard shaft, running down his balls onto the mattress below.

“Mine,” he mouths back smugly, making you smile; JJ’s none the wiser.

JJ starts to stroke nice and slow, too, wrapping his hands around your body, taking two fistfuls of tits.

The two boys start to move in and out, hitting all the right spots, your pleasure so strong you feel like you could pass out.

Rafe drives his heels into the floor, throwing his hips up into you again and again, the angle making your toes curl, your hands reaching up to grasp JJ’s wrists for support.

“So fuckin’ tight,” JJ mumbles, warm against your neck. He snaps his hips. His toned body clapping against your ass with each stroke, making your vision blur.

The sounds of your pleasure fill the room as they keep a brutal pace, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Your eyes slam shut; body unable to take much more. Rafe grabs your wrists, forcing your hands onto his chest again. He reaches up, gripping your cheeks with a single hand, making your heavy eyes lift open on his.

“I know you’re gonna cum, baby. So am I. Cum with me,” he mutters as their movements get messier and rougher.

“Fuck,” you scream as your body gives way, pussy gushing and pulsing around Rafe’s throbbing length, your climax pulls the boys with it, the two cumming hard, filling both holes to the brim.

You tumble down on the bed, falling into Rafe’s arms as JJ clutches your hips tightly, pushing himself as deep as he can go.

Rafe turns your cheek, lifting your lips to his for a gentle kiss, the two of you breathe heavily together as the three of you come down from your highs.

Rafe smiles in satisfaction, burying himself in your neck, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re mine, princess.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

dividers | @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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pucksandpower · 8 months ago

Text

Baby Steps

Charles Leclerc x single mother!Reader

Summary: you are barely staying afloat, desperately trying to wrap your mind around your impending motherhood while juggling being a press officer for Scuderia Ferrari … Charles shows you that you don’t have to do it alone

Warnings: pregnancy, family abandonment, and harassment

You grip the edges of the trash can tightly as your stomach lurches again. The half-digested remains of your breakfast spill into the plastic liner with a sickening splatter. Straightening up slowly, you take a few deep breaths and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. The smell rising from the can makes your stomach roll threateningly once more.

Turning away quickly, you lean against the side of the Ferrari motorhome, eyes closed. The sun beats down relentlessly, and you can feel sweat beading at your hairline.

This “morning” sickness is no joke — it seems to strike at all hours of the day. You thought you had gotten away with a quick breakfast break an hour ago when Carlos was in a team briefing, but apparently not.

Footsteps on the gravel make you open your eyes. You pray it’s not a member of the press, or, god forbid, Carlos. The last thing you need is a photo of the Ferrari press officer tossing her cookies behind the paddock. But no, it’s Charles Leclerc striding towards you, his brow furrowed.

You straighten up and attempt nonchalance. “Good morning, Charles.”

He slows, glancing between you and the extremely obvious trash can of vomit. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you say breezily. “Just a bit of food poisoning, I think. Had a questionable chicken salad for dinner yesterday.”

You notice Charles is wearing a soft grey t-shirt and track pants, his hair damp from the shower. He must have just finished with physiotherapy. He looks so effortlessly handsome, it’s frankly unfair. You suddenly feel acutely aware of the sheen of sweat on your face and your limbs heavy with fatigue.

Charles’ face remains creased in concern. “Food poisoning? Have you been to the medical center?”

You wave a hand. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just 24 hours of hell before I’m back to normal.” You attempt a smile, but have to grab the trash can again as the smell from it hits you like a wave.

Charles springs forward and grabs your arm as you retch miserably. “Whoa, take it easy,” he says, supporting you until the heaving subsides.

You stay hunched over, breathing hard. The world is spinning a little. You hear Charles say firmly, “Okay, come with me. Let’s get you sat down.”

He keeps a hand under your arm and leads you into the blessedly cool motorhome. The rich scent of coffee fills the interior, reminding you that you haven’t managed to keep any food down today. You sink gratefully onto a padded bench at one of the tables.

Charles sits opposite you, his green eyes studying you intently. “When did the sickness start?”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. The jig is up. “About four weeks ago,” you mutter.

Understanding dawns on Charles’ face. “Oh. Oh!” His eyes flick down to your still-flat stomach. “So you’re ...”

“Pregnant. Yes.” You drop your head into your hands.

“Well, hey, congratulations,” says Charles gently. “That’s really exciting.”

You huff out something between a sob and a laugh. “Exciting? More like a nightmare!” You run your fingers back through your hair and look desperately at Charles. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even Carlos. I can’t risk anyone finding out about this. If I lose this job ...”

Charles’ brows draw together again. “Why would you lose your job? You’re Carlos’ press officer. I’m sure he’d be thrilled for you.”

You shake your head rapidly. “No, no way. I can’t take time off. The season just started! Carlos needs me, I organize everything for him. The travel, the events, the media, everything!” You bite your lip anxiously. “Maybe … maybe after the baby comes, I can figure something out. But I have to keep this quiet until then. Please.”

Charles reaches over and lays a hand on your arm. His touch is gentle but firm. “Y/N. Working yourself into the ground won’t be good for you or the baby. Have you thought about taking a sabbatical? Just a few months to rest, focus on yourself.”

Panic flares in your chest. “No! No, I can’t.” Your breathing quickens. “You don’t understand — I have no one else. No partner. No family. This job is everything. If I lose it ...” You trail off, trying to blink back the sting of tears.

Charles is silent for a long moment. Then he says, “Okay. I understand this is your decision. And I promise I won’t tell Carlos or anyone else.” He hesitates. “But Y/N, please take care of yourself. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

You nod jerkily and avoid his earnest gaze. With a shaky breath, you push yourself to your feet. The motorhome tilts sickeningly for a second.

Charles rises too, watching you with concern. “Will you be alright?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. You start to head deeper into the motorhome, desperate to lie down before the nausea returns.

“Y/N,” Charles calls after you softly. You pause, glancing back. “Congratulations again. You’re going to be a wonderful mother.” He gives you a small, warm smile.

You swallow hard. “Thank you, Charles,” you whisper. Then you turn and continue on unsteadily, one hand braced against the wall.

You make it to the small office that passes for your private quarters on race weekends. Collapsing onto the ergonomic desk chair, you stare up at the ceiling and place a hand over your still-flat belly.

A baby.

Your baby.

Fear and wonder tangle inside you.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you know a hand is gently shaking your shoulder. You jerk awake to find Carlos standing over you, his eyebrows drawn with concern.

“Y/N? Are you ill?”

You stand up too quickly and immediately regret it as the room spins. Carlos grabs your shoulder to steady you.

“I’m fine,” you say hoarsely. “Just needed a quick nap.”

Carlos frowns, clearly unconvinced. “Charles said you were throwing up outside. That you have food poisoning?”

You make a mental note to kill Charles later. “Uh, yeah. Bad chicken salad, I think. But I’ll be okay.” You attempt a reassuring smile.

Carlos sits down on the edge of your desk, watching you closely. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell? You know you don’t have to worry about me, I can look after myself for one day.” His dark brown eyes are filled with worry.

Guilt twists your gut. Carlos has always been extraordinarily kind and thoughtful, a rarity in the high stakes world of Formula 1. You hate lying to him.

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just didn’t want to let you down. But you’re right, I should have said something. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head immediately. “No, don’t be sorry. Just focus on feeling better, yes? Take tomorrow off too. I order you to rest,” he adds with a small grin.

You smile weakly back. “Okay, boss.”

Carlos stands and gestures to the tiny table bolted to the wall. “I brought you some tea and crackers. Hopefully you can keep it down.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate you checking on me.”

He smiles. “Of course. Feel better, Y/N.” With a last lingering look of concern, he turns and leaves you in peace.

You look at the steaming tea and crackers and feel tears prick your eyes again. Carlos is a good man. Too good, probably, for the pragmatic demands of Formula 1. You know you should tell him about the pregnancy. But the thought of losing your place here, on this team, fills you with dread.

This high stakes world of racing is all you’ve known for the past three years. You can’t imagine life outside the bubble of the paddock, away from the adrenaline and pressure. Away from the team. Away from Carlos. Away from Charles.

With a deep breath, you sit up straight and tear open the crackers. You need to think about this rationally. Maybe Charles is right and you do need to slow down eventually. But for now, for the next few months at least, you have to keep going like nothing has changed.

You place a hand on your stomach as you nibble a cracker. “It’s gonna be okay, little one,” you whisper. “We’ll figure this out.”

***

The smell of coffee turns your stomach these days, but you still make your way blearily to the breakfast buffet each morning. Carlos is an early riser, and you need to be available whenever he is ready to start the day. You scan the offerings, deciding toast is the safest option, and reach for a couple of dry slices.

“Oh, Y/N!”

You turn to see Charles holding out a pre-packaged parfait cup. “I grabbed an extra yogurt by mistake. Do you want it?”

You hesitate. Your first instinct is suspicion — this is the third time this week Charles has “accidentally” had an extra snack to offer you. But the yogurt does look appealing ...

“Sure, thanks,” you say, taking the cup from him. Charles shoots you a smile before grabbing a plate and continuing down the buffet.

You sit down next to Carlos with your toast and yogurt. He glances up from his phone. “Morning. Feeling better today?”

You nod, mouth full. In truth, the nausea has continued, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it from Carlos and powered through.

Charles joins you both a few minutes later, greeted by Carlos with a fist bump. You peel open your yogurt while half-listening to the two men discuss the upcoming practices.

The sweet, fruity parfait is cool and soothing on your sensitive stomach. You find yourself polishing it off in record time. As you scrape the last bit of yogurt from the bottom, you realize Charles is watching you.

“Good?” He asks.

You lick the plastic spoon clean before answering. “Yeah, really hit the spot, thanks.”

Charles’ eyes crinkle with a smile. “No problem. I’ll try to grab two tomorrow.”

You feel your smile grow fixed. This is getting ridiculous. Charles Leclerc does not care this much about your yogurt preferences. He’s up to something.

Over the next week, Charles’ thoughtfulness continues. A cold bottle of water when you’re looking hot and tired. A sandwich from a local bakery when you missed lunch. Your favorite chocolate bar when you mention a craving in passing. Always with an innocent smile, as if he’s not playing Superman to your pretend Lois Lane.

It all comes to a head on race day. You’re in the scorching sun on the grid, already feeling the fatigue of the hectic weekend. Carlos is doing his pre-race routine, so your attention has lapsed. Suddenly a blessedly cold bottle of water appears in front of your face. You look up to see Charles grinning down at you.

“Stay hydrated,” he says with a wink.

That does it. “Okay, enough!” You snap, smacking the water bottle away. It falls to the ground with a thud, water glugging out.

Charles’ eyes go wide with shock. “Y/N?”

Grabbing his arm, you pull Charles several steps away from eavesdropping mechanics. “Why are you doing this?” You hiss. “I don’t need you to baby me!”

“What?” Charles looks completely bewildered. “I’m just trying to help-”

“Well, stop,” you interrupt sharply. The hurt on Charles’ face makes you falter, but you press on. “I don’t need your pity. I’m fine.”

“Pity?” Charles frowns. “It’s not pity, Y/N. I care about you.” He places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re always taking care of everyone around you. Now you need someone to take care of you too.”

His kind words hit you like a gut punch. Oh God, the stupid hormones! You feel hot tears spring to your eyes.

Charles’ alarmed expression softens. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you ...” He pulls you into a hug. One hand smoothes your hair while the other rubs comforting circles on your back.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmurs. You cling to him, embarrassed by your raw emotional response but unable to stop the tears.

After a minute the wave passes. You pull back, wiping your eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Nothing is wrong with you. But I understand this is a difficult time.” His expression turns serious. “If you ever need anything, please ask me. I’m here for you.”

Looking up into Charles’ earnest green eyes, you feel a rush of gratitude. Whatever awkwardness lingers between you has evaporated. Charles is a true friend.

You squeeze his hand. “Thank you. That means a lot.” Glancing around, you notice some odd looks from passing crew members. “We should probably get back to work before people think there’s a full-blown soap opera going on over here.”

Charles grins. “Agreed. But this conversation isn’t over. Dinner tonight in my room?” He raises an eyebrow.

You laugh, blinking away the last dampness from your eyes. “It’s a date.”

***

You smooth your hands down your dress as you approach Charles’ hotel suite, suddenly feeling nervous. You’ve been in drivers’ rooms countless times for work, but this feels different. More intimate.

You take a steadying breath and knock. Charles opens the door, looking unfairly handsome in a crisp button down shirt.

“Y/N! Come in.” He steps back to allow you inside.

The suite is spacious and modern, with floor to ceiling windows along one wall looking out over the glittering city. Charles leads you through the living area to a set of glass doors. “I thought we could eat out on the balcony,” he explains, opening the doors with a flourish. “The fresh air will be good for you and baby.”

You step outside and have to stifle a gasp. A small table is elegantly set for two, a vase of flowers in the center. String lights twinkle overhead. “Charles, this is beautiful!”

He looks pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” Pulling out a chair, he gestures for you to sit.

As he takes the seat opposite you, you notice several covered dishes on the table. Charles sees you looking and smiles a bit sheepishly. “I, uh, called my mother earlier.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Charles rubs the back of his neck. “I asked her what foods she craved when she was pregnant with me and my brother. So I ordered a bunch of that from room service, in hopes there might be something you’d like.”

A lump forms in your throat. You reach over and squeeze his hand. “Charles, that is so incredibly thoughtful.”

Pink tinges his tanned cheeks. “Of course. I want to take care of you.”

You chat comfortably over food and Charles’ excellent choice of wine for you — sparkling grape juice. He relaxes as you praise the chicken and melon he ordered.

When you sit back contentedly, Charles fixes you with a thoughtful look. “So, do you know how far along you are?”

You hesitate. “About three months now.”

He nods. “And have you been to a doctor yet?”

Your fingers find a groove in the wooden table to trace. “Not yet.” At his surprised look, you add defensively, “I’ve just been so busy with work. But I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Still, you should make an appointment soon. Just to be safe.” Charles’ tone is gentle.

You nod without meeting his eye. An uncomfortable beat passes.

“Do you ...” Charles pauses delicately. “Forgive me, but … do you know who the father is?”

Your cheeks flame. You stand abruptly, walking over to the balcony railing. After a moment Charles joins you, leaning on the rail at your side.

“I’m sorry, that was too personal,” he says quietly.

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I just ...” You glance up at him. “He’s no longer in my life.” You look away, a lump in your throat.

Charles doesn’t ask anything more, just moves closer in a gesture of silent support. You stand together breathing in the night air. The twinkling city sprawls before you. For a moment, the future doesn’t feel quite so frightening.

Eventually you stifle a yawn behind your hand. Charles glances over. “You must be exhausted. I should let you get to bed.”

You smile gratefully. He walks you to the door of the suite. Pausing, you stand on tiptoes and kiss Charles lightly on the cheek. “Thank you again for dinner. For everything.”

His eyes shine as he gazes down at you. “Of course. Sweet dreams, Y/N. And ...” He brushes a feather-light touch over your belly. “Sweet dreams to you too, little one.”

You feel your heart melt just a little. With a last smile, you head down the hall to the elevators. As the doors slide closed, you catch one last glimpse of Charles watching after you.

Back in your smaller, blander room, you change for bed in a happy haze. Sliding between cool sheets, you let out a contented sigh. Tonight was lovely. Charles’ thoughtfulness reminds you there are still good people in the world. For the first time in weeks, you feel a spark of hope.

You drift off to sleep with a hand resting gently on your belly. Everything seems less frightening now that you aren’t alone. Whatever happens next, you and your baby will get through it together.

***

The buzz of the media pen is giving you a headache today. Or maybe that’s just the pregnancy. You blink heavily, trying to focus on Carlos speaking into the microphone in front of you. You hit record on your phone as he answers the first question. It’s your job to capture every word to ensure he’s not misrepresented later.

The reporter’s voice fades in and out. You sway slightly, shaking your head. Just need some fresh air. You take a step away from the crowd, vision blurring at the edges. Dark spots dance across your eyes. The concrete floor rushes up to meet you-

“Y/N!”

Strong hands grab your shoulders, slowing your collapse. Your head spins as you try to make sense of it.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Charles’ worried face swims into view above you. You part your lips but no words come out.

There’s loud commotion around you now. You feel yourself being shifted, lifted. Snatches of Charles’ voice pierce through the fog.

“She’s pregnant ... get help ... ambulance ...”

You try to cling to consciousness but it’s like grasping at smoke. The world goes dark.

When you resurface, it’s to antiseptic white walls and a steady beeping. Hospital. An IV pulls at your arm as you shift.

“Y/N?” Charles appears at your side, relief breaking across his face. “Thank God. You’re awake.”

Before you can respond, he’s disappeared again, calling for a doctor. You try to push yourself more upright but your limbs feel like lead.

A brisk older woman in a white coat enters, glancing at the monitor beside your bed. “Good to see you awake, Miss Y/L/N. You gave us quite a scare.”

“What happened?” Your voice comes out hoarse.

“You fainted from low blood pressure. A common issue in pregnancy, but yours seems to be more severe.” The doctor flips through your chart with a frown.

Charles stands anxiously at the foot of the bed. “But she’ll be alright now?”

The doctor hesitates. “I’m recommending complete pelvic rest and limited activity for the remainder of the pregnancy. Strictly no standing or walking for prolonged periods.” She pins you with a sharp look. “And if your blood pressure drops again, we’ll have no choice but to put you on full bed rest.”

Your stomach drops through the floor. “What? No, I can’t! I have to keep working, I-”

“Y/N.” Charles’ voice stops your panicked rambling. His face is lined with concern as he takes your hand. “Your health is what matters most.”

The doctor nods briskly. “Precisely. No job is worth risking your or your baby’s safety.” With a final warning look, she departs.

The moment she leaves, you burst into tears. Harsh, gasping sobs wrack your frame. This is a disaster. Without being able to stand or walk for long stretches, you’re useless to the team. You’ll be fired for sure. And then what will you do? You have no one, no other skills-

Warm, strong arms wrap around you as you weep. Charles cradles you against his chest, making low soothing sounds.

“Shh, it’s going to be alright,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “We’ll figure this out.”

You clutch fistfuls of his shirt, burying your face in the soft cotton. The steady thump of his heartbeat slowly calms your hysteria.

When the tears finally subside, Charles eases you gently back against the pillows. His thumbs brush away the moisture from your cheeks.

“I know you’re scared,” he says quietly. “But I promise, I will do everything I can to help you. We are in this together now.”

His green eyes radiate such sincerity, you feel some of the panic and despair lift. You cling tightly to his hand, anchoring yourself to him like he’s a rock in a stormy sea.

***

You pick listlessly at the greyish meat and mushy vegetables on your hospital dinner tray. At least Charles had the foresight to sneak in some contraband snacks earlier — you polish off the last crumbs of the cookies he brought, wishing futilely for something more appetizing.

A knock at the door precedes Charles peeking in. “Hungry for something better than hospital food?” He holds up a paper takeout bag and shakes it enticingly.

You brighten immediately. “Charles, you’re my hero.”

He laughs and enters, pulling a table over your lap to serve as a makeshift dining surface. Soon plastic containers of pasta, salad, and fresh bread are opened, the savory scents making your mouth water.

Charles watches fondly as you tuck in. “I wasn’t sure what you’d feel up to eating. But who doesn’t like Italian food?”

You make a noise of emphatic agreement through your full mouth. Charles chuckles.

When you finally surface for air, he clears his throat. “So I was thinking ...” Charles busies himself folding and refolding your napkin. “My apartment in Monaco is pretty big for just me. And it has a guest room that’s just sitting empty.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to go on.

“Well ...” Charles rubs the back of his neck. “I thought maybe when you’re discharged, you could come stay with me for a while. So I can make sure you’re not overexerting yourself.”

You frown slightly. “Oh. That’s really kind, but I’ll be fine once I’m out of here.”

“Will you?” Charles levels you with a knowing look. “No offense, but you’re not exactly the best at asking for help when you need it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but can’t really argue with that.

“Let me do this for you. For my own peace of mind too,” Charles implores gently. He takes your hand, blue eyes full of sincerity. “Please?”

Looking into his earnest face, you feel your weak resistance faltering. Still ... “I don’t want to be a burden,” you mumble half-heartedly.

Charles squeezes your hand. “You could never be. I care about you, Y/N.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles. “I want to take care of you and the baby.”

The warmth in his voice melts away the last of your reluctance. And honestly, the prospect of having Charles doting on you is far preferable to being alone in your small, dreary apartment.

You meet his hopeful gaze. “Okay. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then … I accept your kind offer.”

Charles’ answering smile rivals the sun. “Yeah? Oh, that’s fantastic!” He sweeps you into an enthusiastic but gentle hug. You cling to him, feeling the nervous knot that’s been your constant companion for weeks finally start to loosen. Everything will work out.

That night as Charles is leaving, you call his name softly. He pauses, one hand on the door.

You twist your fingers in the blanket, suddenly shy. “I just wanted to say … thank you. For everything. I’ll find a way to repay you someday, I promise.”

Charles’ expression softens. He comes back and squeezes your hand. “You don’t owe me anything. Just focus on yourself and that little one.” He strokes a finger over your belly. “That’s all the repayment I need.”

With a last smile, he slips out, leaving you to fall asleep with a heart full of gratitude and growing affection for your kind rescuer.

***

You smooth your hands nervously over your dress as you approach Fred Vasseur’s office. This is it. Time to tell your boss that you’ll be leaving him in the lurch smack dab in the middle of the season.

Charles gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It will be okay. Just explain the situation.”

You take a deep breath and nod. Charles opens the door and gestures for you to enter first.

Fred rises from behind his desk, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/N, Charles. What can I do for you?” His gaze darts between you curiously.

Your mouth goes dry. Charles gently guides you to sit in one of the chairs facing Fred, taking the other himself.

“Y/N has something she needs to discuss with you,” Charles begins calmly. “I’m here for moral support.”

Fred’s eyebrows raise but he nods for you to go on. Your hands twist together in your lap.

“Well, I ...” You have to pause and swallow hard. “I recently learned that I’m pregnant. And I’ve developed some, uh, complications that mean I can’t travel or be on my feet much.”

Fred’s eyebrows climb higher. “I … see. Congratulations?” He still looks perplexed.

Charles jumps in. “What she’s trying to say is, she needs to take a leave of absence. Doctor’s orders.”

“Ah.” Understanding settles on Fred’s face. He turns back to you. “I’m very sorry to hear you’re unwell. Of course health must come first.”

You feel yourself relax slightly. “So I can take a sabbatical? My job will still be here when I’m able to return?”

“Absolutely.” Fred nods. “You’ve been invaluable to our team. Your role will be waiting whenever you’re ready.”

You could cry with relief. “Oh, thank you! That means the world.”

Fred smiles kindly. “Think nothing of it. Focus on your health and that baby. We’ll manage in the meantime.”

Charles reaches over to clasp your hand supportively. “Is there anything else she needs to know before starting her leave?”

Fred considers this. “Y/N will have full pay during sabbatical, of course. And keep me posted on any support you require — medical, household, anything at all.”

You clutch Charles’ hand, too overwhelmed to speak. He smiles. “Very generous. We appreciate that greatly.”

After finalizing a few details, you both stand. Fred comes around the desk to shake your hand. “Best of luck with everything. Let me know if you need absolutely anything.”

You whisper a heartfelt thank you before allowing Charles to guide you out. Safely in the hallway, you turn and fling your arms around him.

“Charles, thank you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

His strong arms come around you, cradling you close. “Of course, Y/N. I meant what I said — I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

You cling to each other for a long moment, his steadfast support washing away your lingering fears. As long as Charles is with you, you know everything will work out just fine.

***

You fidget in the generic mint-colored exam room, paper crinkling beneath you as you perch on the edge of the table. Charles sits in a nearby chair, scrolling through his phone, the picture of calm. You wish you shared his zen attitude.

A brisk knock precedes the door swinging open. A smiling older woman enters, glancing down at her chart.

“Y/N? I’m Dr. Boucher, nice to meet you.” Her smile widens as she looks between you and Charles. “And you must be the dad! Wonderful.”

Your mouth drops open to correct her, but Charles beats you to it. “That’s right, thank you,” he says easily, standing to shake the doctor’s hand.

You snap your mouth shut, eyes widening. But the doctor has already moved on, washing her hands at the sink.

“Now then, let’s take a look at this baby, shall we?” She pats the exam table.

You lie back, hiking up your shirt to expose your belly. The cool gel makes you shiver as the doctor smears it over your skin. She places the ultrasound wand low on your abdomen and moves it slowly.

The screen blooms to life, blurred black and white shifting until a shape emerges — a tiny profile, curled arms and legs distinct. You gasp softly. There’s your baby.

Dr. Boucher smiles. “There we are. Looks to be about 16 weeks along. Growing beautifully.”

You can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. Your throat feels tight. After so many weeks of secrecy and fear, this precious little life finally seems real.

“And there’s the heartbeat.” The doctor turns up the volume, and a rapid thumping fills the room. “Nice and strong.”

Tears spill over your cheeks before you can stop them. A glance over shows Charles watching the monitor intently, green eyes shiny with emotion. He reaches for your hand, gripping tightly.

When the appointment ends, you both exit the office in a daze. As you walk down the street to Charles’ car, he turns to you.

“That was … incredible,” he says softly. “Seeing your baby for the first time ...” He trails off, at a loss for words.

You lift his hand and press a kiss to the back, hoping he understands the depth of your gratitude. Charles smiles tenderly in return.

Safely home in Charles’ plush apartment, you curl up together on the sofa with mugs of tea to continue gazing at the ultrasound photos. Charles slips an arm around your shoulders, his thumb idly stroking your arm as you chatter excitedly about preparing a nursery.

This moment, here with Charles, your child’s heartbeat still echoing in your ears … it’s the closest thing to pure joy you’ve ever known. The future finally feels bright with hope. You lean into Charles’ warmth and send up a silent prayer of thanks for this man and the new life he’s given back to you.

***

You curl deeper into the plush couch in Charles’ apartment, cradling your mug of tea. Rain patters against the windows overlooking Monaco’s glittering harbor. The cozy scene makes you feel safe enough to finally open up.

“Charles?”

He glances over from where he’s poking at the fire. “Hmm?”

You twist your fingers together nervously. “There’s more I should tell you. About how I got pregnant.”

Charles rises and comes to sit beside you, face open and attentive. Taking a deep breath, you begin.

“It happened last winter, during the off-season. I went back home to Italy for a while, to the little town outside Milan where my family lives.”

You stare into your tea, remembering. “There was a man vacationing there, from Rome. Dario. We met in a cafe and just … clicked. He was handsome, charming, a perfect gentleman.” Your lips twist wryly. “Or so I thought.”

Charles remains quiet, letting you gather the words.

“We spent every day together for two weeks. Took long walks, went on romantic dinners. When it was time for him to leave, we ...” You trail off, face warming.

“You made love,” Charles supplies gently. You nod, still not meeting his eyes.

“I thought it meant as much to him as to me. But after he went back to Rome, his texts and calls slowly stopped. And then I found out why.”

Your voice drops to a pained whisper. “He was married. His ‘business trip’ was just a chance to fool around. When his wife saw my texts on his phone … it exploded. And then my family found out about the affair.”

Finally you lift your head. Charles’ face is lined with compassion. “They disowned me. Called me a fool and a harlot. It didn’t matter that I was lied to — as far as they’re concerned, I brought shame upon our family.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Charles immediately pulls you into his arms. You cling to him, crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “You did nothing wrong. This Dario took advantage of you, and your family should have supported you.”

Charles holds you until the storm of tears passes. When you finally pull back, he cups your face in both hands, brushing away the lingering moisture with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says softly. “I know that wasn’t easy. You’re so incredibly strong.”

Leaning forward, he places a tender kiss on your forehead. Then his palms slide down to cradle your rounded belly.

“I’ve got you now,” Charles murmurs. “Both of you. You’ll never be alone again.”

Nestled in his lap, you close your eyes and just breathe. The remnants of hurt and betrayal wash away, replaced by the safety of Charles’ embrace. Whatever comes next, you have found your sanctuary here, with him.

***

You wander through the apartment looking for Charles, one hand braced on your lower back. Your belly has popped noticeably in the last couple weeks, throwing your balance off.

Not finding Charles in any of the usual spots, you head down the hall towards the spare bedroom. When you push open the door, your jaw drops.

The room has been completely transformed. Bright sunshine spills through the windows onto whitewashed walls. A plush rug covers the hardwood floor. In one corner sits a fully assembled crib, stuffed animals piled inside.

Charles stands back to admire his work, shirtsleeves rolled up and hair adorably mussed. He turns when you gasp softly.

“Y/N! I wanted to surprise you.” His grin falters. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? Charles, I love it!” You blink back happy tears, wandering further inside. Charles’ face lights up.

“I wasn’t sure what color to paint, so I left the walls white for now,” he explains, coming over to slip an arm around you.

You lean into him, gazing around. “It’s perfect. Our baby is so lucky to have you.”

Pink tinges Charles’ cheeks. He kisses the top of your head. “I’m the lucky one.”

You decide on a pale green for the walls. Charles immediately fetches paint supplies, but hovers anxiously as you start rolling color onto the first wall.

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” He eyes your protruding stomach. “The fumes can’t be good ...”

You wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine! Here-” You dip a roller in paint and offer it out. “Make yourself useful instead of worrying.”

Charles accepts the roller reluctantly. Soon you’re both working side by side. Charles takes on the higher parts of the walls that you can’t comfortably reach anymore.

Humming under your breath, you step back to critique your work so far. As you do, your foot catches on the paint tray and you stumble. Charles reaches out to steady you, but not before a fat drop of paint lands on his cheek.

“Oops!” You clap a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh at the green splotch on his tanned skin.

Charles narrows his eyes in mock indignation. “You think that’s funny, do you?” Before you can react, he flicks his loaded paintbrush at you, spattering your shirt.

You gasp in delighted outrage. “Oh, it is on!” Grabbing your roller, you swipe it down his arm.

Charles lets out a laugh of surprise. Soon paint is flying from both directions. You run around each other, giggling and slipping on the drops coating the floor.

Finally Charles catches you gently by the waist. You’re both absolutely covered in pale green, sides aching from laughter. Your faces are inches apart, smiles fading into something more tender.

Slowly, Charles leans in and presses his lips to yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. You melt against him, hands coming up to cradle his jaw.

When you finally part, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he confesses, a little breathless.

You smile, heart soaring. “What took you so long?”

His answering grin outshines the sun. There, surrounded by dreams of the future, you share another lingering kiss.

***

You settle back against the mountain of pillows, trying to find a comfortable position for your unwieldy body. At nearly 8 months along now, your belly feels impossibly huge. Luckily Charles’ plush bed offers plenty of space to sprawl.

Speaking of Charles, he appears in the doorway holding a bottle. “Ready for your massage?”

You eye the bottle of oil eagerly. The stretch marks crisscrossing your stomach have been itchy and tight. “Yes please.”

Charles props up pillows behind you so you’re half-reclining. Then he drizzles some of the oil into his palms, warming it up before smoothing his hands over your bump.

You sigh in bliss at his gentle but firm touch. The fragrant oil soothes and softens your irritated skin. Under Charles’ ministrations, the discomfort slowly ebbs away.

His strong hands glide over every inch, easing out the aches and pains. As Charles works, he murmurs to your belly. “There you go, little one. We’re going to make your home nice and cozy.”

Your heart clenches at the tender scene. Even after all these months of living together, it still sometimes hits you how domestic this is. Sharing a home, sharing a bed … it’s everything you secretly longed for but never expected to have. A real family.

You trail your fingers through Charles’ soft waves. His eyes lift to meet yours, soft with affection. The look on his face steals your breath — pure adoration, like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

“I love you.” The words slip out unbidden. Charles’ hands still. For a heartbeat, you’re afraid you’ve said too much.

But then he surges up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “I love you too,” Charles whispers fiercely when you finally break apart, both panting. “So much.”

He seals his words with another drugging kiss. Your hands clutch him close, heart near bursting with joy.

Suddenly Charles breaks the kiss with a gasp. His wide eyes dart down. “Did you feel that?”

You start to shake your head no, distracted by the sensation of his calloused hands massaging your belly, but then you feel it — a distinct thump against your insides. Your baby shifting and kicking.

Charles’ face lights up. “There it is again!” He laughs in wonder. “The little one is saying hello.”

Happy tears blur your vision. Charles presses a delighted kiss to your stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you,” he whispers tenderly.

Through your tears, you smile at the man you love. The one who gave you and your child a home when you had nothing. However you got here, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

A dull ache starts low in your back as you crawl into bed. You shift and stretch, trying to get comfortable, but can’t seem to. Charles notices your restlessness.

“Alright?” He murmurs sleepily, rolling over to rub your back.

You nod. “Yeah, just some back pain today.” Probably from lugging around this massive belly.

Charles makes soothing noises and continues massaging you until he drifts off. You finally manage to doze too.

Sometime in the night, you jerk awake. The sheets under you are soaked. For one confused moment you think you wet the bed. But then it hits you.

Your water broke.

“Charles!” You shake his shoulder urgently.

He comes awake with a snort. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

“It’s time! The baby-” You break off with a hiss as the first real contraction clenches your belly.

That wakes Charles up fully. “The baby? It’s coming?” He practically falls out of bed, all long limbs flailing.

You have to stifle an inappropriate giggle at his panic. “Yes, so we should-” Your instructions die as Charles sprints from the room. Alright then.

You shake your head in amusement and heave yourself to your feet, one hand braced on your lower back. Waddling slowly after Charles, you find him hyperactively rushing around the living room, tossing items randomly into your hospital bag.

“Okay, let’s go!” He grabs the overflowing bag and dashes out the front door. You stare after him in disbelief then lower yourself carefully onto the couch to wait.

Not thirty seconds later, Charles comes barreling back inside. “Oh God, I forgot you!”

You have to laugh at the panic on his face. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Looking marginally calmer, he helps you up, frantically gathering your bag in one hand while keeping the other wrapped around you.

You lean your weight on him during the next contraction, breathing through it. “It’s okay. But we should really go now.”

Charles practically carries you down to the garage and bundles you into his Ferrari in record time. He drives well over the speed limit, one hand clutching yours the whole way.

At the hospital, Charles refuses to leave your side even for a second. He holds the gas and air for you to breathe during contractions, whispering how strong and amazing you are.

When the time comes to push, the pain is unimaginable. You nearly give up, sobbing that you can’t do this. But Charles is there, guiding you through it, telling you that you absolutely can. And with one final scream, your son enters the world.

The shrill cry is the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Charles cuts the cord with trembling hands. Then the nurse lays your wailing, squirmy son on your chest.

You press kisses to his downy head, tears of joy streaming down your face. Charles gazes at you both with pure reverence.

“His name is Matteo Charles,” you whisper. Charles lets out a choked sob at the middle name.

Too soon, the nurses take Matteo for cleaning and checks. One asks Charles if he’d like to hold him. Charles looks to you questioningly, and you nod through your exhaustion.

Charles settles into a chair, shirtless, and Matteo is laid on his bare chest. Charles strokes a gentle finger over Matteo’s cheek, seemingly enraptured.

“Thank you,” he rasps to you. “For our beautiful boy. Thank you, mon amour.”

This is everything you never knew you needed — a family, a home, and an overflowing love you once thought would forever be lost to you. But you’ve found it now, here in this room, together.

***

The sharp cries jolt you from sleep. With a groan, you roll out of the warm circle of Charles’ arms. Your body still aches and protests as you make your way to the nursery in the dark.

Picking up little Matteo, you carry him to the rocker and situate him at your breast. He latches on eagerly, cries fading to soft snuffles.

Charles appears in the doorway, hair adorably mussed. “Everything okay?” He asks through a yawn.

“We’re good now.” You smile tiredly down at your nursing son. His downy hair and scrunched features are all you — you find yourself thankful that there is barely any indication that his biological father even participated in making him.

Charles comes to perch on the ottoman, watching Matteo. “I can’t believe he’s really here,” he murmurs. “Our son.”

Pride swells in your chest. Charles has fully embraced his role as Matteo’s father, as naturally as breathing.

When Matteo finishes eating, Charles takes him to gently pat his back while you right your nightgown. He kisses your son’s head when Matteo lets out a tiny burp.

Back in bed, you curl into Charles with Matteo nestled safely between you. Charles has a race this weekend, his first since the birth. The thought of him leaving fills you with anxiety.

In the morning, Charles confirms your fears. “I’ll just tell Fred I’m not coming this weekend,” he says casually over breakfast. “The team will manage without me. One of the reserve drivers can take over for a few days.”

Your head jerks up. “What? No, Charles, you have to race.”

“But I don’t want to leave you two!” Charles gestures helplessly to where Matteo snoozes in a bouncer.

You catch Charles’ hand. “This is your dream. Matteo and I will be right here cheering you on when you get back.”

Charles wavers. You soften your voice. “It’s only for a little while. We’ll be okay.”

Finally he nods reluctantly. You know how hard this is for him — but Charles was born to race. You won’t let him give that up.

The morning Charles is set to fly out, he clings to you and Matteo like a second skin. You practically have to peel him off at airport security.

“I’ll be back so soon,” he whispers fiercely. One last kiss, and then he’s gone.

The apartment feels empty and too quiet. But you fill the time singing and playing with Matteo, keeping yourself busy until the race.

You and Matteo cuddle close on the couch to watch Charles zoom around the track. Your heart swells with love and pride seeing your man do what he was meant to.

When Charles wins, he shouts his ecstatic thanks to you and Matteo over the team radio. The podium champagne gets sprayed directly into the camera for you.

Finally Charles is home, sweeping you and Matteo into his arms. “I love you both so much,” he murmurs in wonder. You whisper it right back, nestled safe in the arms of your little family.

***

The energy in the Albert Park paddock is electric as teams prepare for the first race of the 2025 season. You feel a thrill just being back, Matteo cooing happily in your arms. At nearly six months old now, he’s ready for his first race.

Charles bounces on his toes, unable to contain his excitement. “Are you ready to see Papa race, Matteo?” He tickles Matteo’s belly, eliciting bubbly giggles.

You head first to the Ferrari garage, where the mechanics crowd around eagerly to fawn over Matteo. Lewis gives you a careful hug, peering curiously at the baby.

“Lewis, meet Matteo,” Charles says proudly. At Lewis’ questioning look, he adds “My son.” The way he says it brooks no argument.

Lewis’ eyes widen slightly but he just smiles. “Hi Matteo!” He offers a finger for Matteo to grip.

Fred comes over next, cooing over how much Matteo has grown. You enjoy the familial atmosphere, everyone fussing over your boy. Matteo basks in the attention.

Charles takes him down to the front of the garage to watch the crews work on the cars. He points out parts of the sleek machines, explaining them seriously to Matteo as if he understands. Matteo just gazes adoringly up at his Papa.

When Charles finally straps into the car for practice, you have ear muffs ready for Matteo’s sensitive ears. Charles blows kisses to you both before pulling on his helmet. Matteo squeals and waves his little fist as the car roars out.

In the hotel that night, you set Matteo on the bed while Charles showers. Stripped down to his diaper, your son kicks his chubby legs excitedly.

Charles emerges in comfy clothes, his hair still damp, and laughs at Matteo’s antics. “Alright, my little race car driver, time for bed.”

He tickles Matteo’s tummy as he puts on a fresh diaper and snaps up his pajamas. Then Charles cradles Matteo close, humming softly as he sways back and forth to soothe him. Your heart clenches at the tender scene.

Once Matteo is deeply asleep, Charles lays him gently in the travel crib. He turns to you with a soft smile. “I can’t imagine life without him now.”

You slip your arms around Charles from behind. “He loves his Papa so much already. Your biggest fan.”

Charles covers your hands with his, gazing at Matteo. “I’m going to win tomorrow for him.”

And he does. On the podium, Charles looks down to where you cradle Matteo in one arm, and gently showers you with champagne. Matteo’s delighted laughter is the sweetest sound.

This is everything you’ve ever wanted.

***

The energetic buzz of the Italian Grand Prix washes over you as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles, your son cradled safely in his arms. At nearly a year old now, Matteo is fascinated by the vivid colors and cacophony of sounds surrounding him.

Charles playfully bounces Matteo as you weave through the crowded walkways, pointing out the sights and sounds. “Look Matteo, there’s the cars! Vroom vroom!” Charles mimics the roar of an engine. Matteo’s delighted giggle melts your heart. You can’t help but grin, chest swelling with love and pride for your little family.

You’ve just about reached the looming Ferrari motorhome when an absolutely venomous female voice shrieks out, “You!”

Every muscle in your body instantly tenses. You freeze mid-step, heart lurching into your throat. Whipping your head around, you see an immaculately dressed woman barreling directly towards you, her face mottled an ugly shade of rage-induced crimson.

“You disgusting harlot!” The woman spits with unrestrained fury. “You filthy whore!”

Stunned, you instinctively take a faltering step backwards, nearly stumbling. Charles’ strong arm immediately wraps protectively around you and Matteo, steadying you. His body angles partly in front of yours and Matteo’s smaller form, shielding you both on pure instinct.

The deranged woman continues her tirade, advancing until she’s nearly screaming in your face. “Oh, I know exactly who you are, you reprehensible little homewrecker!”

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, a ghost from your past suddenly materializes behind the enraged woman. A man you hoped to never lay eyes on again.

His eyes blow wide at the sight of you, Charles, and the infant cradled against Charles’ chest.

The woman — his wife, you realize with dawning horror — grabs viciously onto his arm, her razor-sharp nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped gouges. “Just look at her!” She shrieks, spit flying from her mouth. “Parading that little bastard child around like it’s something to be proud of!” She violently thrusts her finger towards Matteo, still safely ensconced in Charles’ embrace.

Your son, sensing the onslaught of hostile energy, immediately begins wailing in distress. You instinctively reach out to take him from Charles, desperate to comfort your frightened boy. But Charles subtly shifts his stance, moving further out of her reach, as he focuses intently on gently bouncing and shushing Matteo in an attempt to calm him.

Matteo’s biological father simply stares, slack-jawed, at the sobbing infant. The gears visibly turn in his head. “Is that ...” he chokes out, “Is he … mine?”

“No.” Charles’ immediate response is biting and unequivocal. He clutches Matteo tighter to his chest. “Matteo is my son.” Though his voice remains steady, you can see a muscle in his jaw ticking from the effort of holding back more heated words.

But Dario clearly does not accept this response. His eyes narrow calculatingly as he continues scrutinizing the wailing baby. Behind him, his unhinged wife keeps up her tirade of slurs and accusations, whipping the gathering crowd into greater frenzy.

You feel lightheaded, paralyzed. This is a living nightmare. Distantly you are aware of camera phones pointed your way, capturing every wretched moment. Charles seems to realize the same, his handsome face darkening with rage.

With frightening efficiency, Charles strides directly over to the nearest paddock security officers and has a brief, terse exchange. Moments later, two bulky guards firmly take hold of the still-screaming woman and shellshocked man, forcefully escorting them away. The crowd reluctantly disperses, murmuring.

Charles immediately returns to envelope you and Matteo in a fiercely protective embrace. “It’s alright now, you’re both safe,” he soothes, though his rapid heartbeat belies his calm words. Matteo’s panicked sobs have faded to tiny hiccups against Charles’ neck.

The rest of the chaotic day passes in a blur. Much later, in the privacy of your hotel room, Charles reveals that he pulled every string and called in every favor necessary to have Dario and his deranged wife permanently blacklisted from all Formula 1 events.

His voice shakes with quiet rage as he describes how close security came to needing to restrain him physically.

Finally he takes your face so very gently in his hands. “I promise you, I will do anything and everything to protect our family. You and Matteo are my entire world. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I’m breathing.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, you collapse against his solid chest. Charles’ strong arms anchor you in place as you cling to him. He continues murmuring fervent assurances, pressing kisses to your hair.

Despite the ugliness of the day, you know with utter certainty Charles will shield you and Matteo from the darkness of your past. Your family is still perfection in your eyes.

***

“Papa, I wanna be a race car driver like you when I grow up!”

Your five-year-old son looks up at Charles with big, adoring eyes as he makes this pronouncement over breakfast one morning.

Charles freezes with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. He slowly sets it down, gazing at Matteo with surprise and pride. “You do?”

Matteo bobs his curly head eagerly. “Yeah! I wanna drive fast cars and win like you! Can you teach me?”

Charles melts, ruffling Matteo’s hair. “Of course, buddy. We’ll have to convince your maman first though.” He shoots you a meaningful look.

You shift uncertainly. Of course you want to encourage Matteo’s interests, but motorsport is dangerous ...

Charles seems to sense your hesitation. “Why don’t you think about it, mon amour? No need to decide yet.” He winks at Matteo, who grins in excitement.

Over the next few days, your two boys put on a full court press to sway you. Charles points out safety advances in karting and helps Matteo make adorable PowerPoint slides with photos of your son in race helmets. They both unleash heartbreaking puppy dog eyes.

Finally you cave. “Alright!” You laugh, holding up your hands in surrender. “You can start teaching him the basics.”

Matteo and Charles high-five so hard it makes a cracking sound. “Yesss!” Charles pumps his fists while Matteo dances in glee. Seeing their matching enthusiasm melts away the last of your reluctance. Your little daredevil was born for this.

The next weekend, Charles takes Matteo to a racetrack an hour outside the city. It’s just a small circuit, but Matteo gazes around with wide eyes, gripping Charles’ hand tightly.

Charles shows him the karts and safety gear, patiently explaining how everything works. Then it’s time. Charles helps strap Matteo into a kart made for kids, snugging his helmet gently under the chin.

“Ready, mon petit champion?”

Matteo gives him a thumbs up, practically vibrating with excitement. Charles grins and drops the visor down. “Alright! Let’s do this!”

He gives Matteo a little push to get the kart rolling onto the track. Your son quickly gets the hang of working the gas and brakes. Charles jogs alongside, gesturing and calling out instructions.

Gradually he lets Matteo take full control. Your little boy zips around the course, hair blowing out the back of his helmet. His delighted laughter echoes around the circuit.

Watching from the sidelines, Charles records it all on his phone, face alight with joy and pride. “That’s it Matteo, you’re doing amazing!” He cheers.

This is only the beginning. But seeing the utter bliss on both their faces, you know Matteo has chosen the right path. The Leclerc legacy will live on.

***

“I’m here in the pit lane with Charles Leclerc on the momentous day his son, Matteo Leclerc, makes his highly anticipated debut with Scuderia Ferrari. Charles, you must be incredibly proud right now.”

The Sky Sports reporter holds her mic out to Charles as he stands, beaming, in front of the scarlet Ferrari garage. Charles nods, looking slightly choked up.

“Incredibly proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he replies earnestly. “This has been Matteo’s dream since he was just a little boy. To see him achieve it, to be standing here watching him drive for the team I devoted my life to … it’s indescribable.”

Charles pauses, glancing over fondly at where you stand with Matteo, straightening your son’s helmet and race suit.

“His mother and I, we’ve worried and experienced every up and down along the way with him. But Matteo has worked so hard for this, never gave up even when it seemed impossible. He more than deserves today.”

The reporter smiles. “And his last name isn’t the only way he takes after you. Matteo is widely considered your protégé after you mentored him through the junior ranks.”

“I taught him everything I could,” Charles acknowledges. “But his talent and dedication are all his own. Matteo is his own man now. I can’t wait to see how high he continues to climb.”

“Any advice you’ve given him before his first race with Ferrari?”

Charles chuckles. “Just to enjoy every second. This only comes around once.” He looks off into the distance, eyes crinkling nostalgically.

“Still seems like yesterday I was in his shoes for my own Ferrari debut. I’ll never forget that feeling.”

The reporter wraps up the interview and Charles makes his way over to where you and 21-year-old Matteo are embracing. Charles’ eyes shine with unshed tears as he clasps arms with his son.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles says hoarsely. “Your mother and I both. Now go show the world what you can do.”

Matteo’s answering smile is blinding. “I’ll make you proud, Papa.”

He hugs you tight, then pulls on his helmet and strides confidently to his waiting Ferrari. The mechanics cheer as the car roars to life and Matteo peels out onto the track, on the cusp of achieving his lifelong dream.

You cling to Charles’ side, waving tearfully. “Our little boy,” you whisper in awe.

Charles wraps an arm around you, never taking his eyes off the bright red car. “He’s all grown up. But he’ll always be our son.”

No matter how high Matteo climbs, Charles knows he will always remain his sweet little boy — the bright-eyed child you and Charles raised with love.

His greatest source of pride and joy as the future beckons brightly, another generation of Leclercs carrying the hopes of Ferrari forward.

3K notes · View notes

thargelalia · 3 months ago

Text

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?”

“Yes.”

“…is it something I did?”

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?”

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face.

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood.

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side.

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM.

A five hour nap. Nice.

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen.

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.”

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him.

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful.

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice.

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter.

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home.

Isn’t that so cute?

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy.

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.”

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.”

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely.

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow.

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes. “You think I only read fiction?”

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?”

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?”

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital.

Two, he knows you worry about his safety.

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home.

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other.

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring.

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth.

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.”

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.”

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder.

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.”

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement.

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy.

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments.

Especially not to the most precious person of his life.

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging.

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul.

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out.

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt.

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace.

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?”

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…”

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.”

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.”

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.”

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.”

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.”

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.”

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well.

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner.

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly.

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

#this is totally self-indulgent btw #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfic #jason todd x y/n #dc imagine #red hood fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfiction

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oncasette · 4 months ago

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𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: 1.1k

Your head is spinning. You must be dreaming. There’s no way you’re actually kissing your best friend right now, not quite sure if he’s still your best friend at that moment or not, but not caring enough to pull back and check.

or the one where jj spills his feelings for his best friend.

a/n: i haven't seen s4 and i don't know if i'm going to, but here's this jj fic since i was feeling up for it? question mark? it's all fluff.

masterlist

“Done in there?” JJ calls from where he’s no doubt spread out on your bed. You can’t help the small laugh that trickles out of you as you open the door, still facing the mirror as you finish up your skincare routine. In the corner of the mirror, you catch JJ’s reflection fiddling with a lighter.

“Don’t burn down my bedroom,” you say. He looks up at you, catching your gaze in the mirror. He flips the spark wheel. A small flame erupts, already being bullied down by the high setting on your ceiling fan.

“What? Don’t trust me?” he smirks.

“Not even a bit,” you chirp, setting all of your creams and oils back into your medicine cabinet.

He sets the lighter down on your nightstand.

“Comfy?” you giggle, watching as he snuggles down further under your plush duvet. You’re glad you made him change, not sure you’d ever get the dirt and sweat from his clothes out of your sheets. He nods, humming. You feel his eyes tracking your movements as you shut the bathroom light off and slide under the covers beside him. It’s almost instantaneous that JJ molds to your side, pushing up your arm in order to lay his head against your shoulder, nose in your neck. You do your best to ignore the way your stomach flutters a bit.

JJ had always been touchy with you. You like to think that he does it with everyone, that that was just his nature. You’d seen him sling an arm around Pope at the Boneyard, tug Kiara into a hug, spin her around, even, kiss John B on the cheek in some of his more emphatic moments. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he was with you. The lingering touches, the snuggling, the sleepovers, the kisses against your temple. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been out on the HMS without him putting his hat on you. It’s friendly enough for you to brush off, for the most part. For you to push it all down and justify his actions when the rest of the pogues prod you for information.

It’s moments like this, though–alone, away from prying eyes–that you allow yourself to pretend. Just a little.

You bring up a hand to his hair and run the tips of your nails across his scalp. He purrs, curling closer into you and you feel his eyelashes brush your skin as his eyes close.

“‘S it raining?” he mumbles into you. His hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for the hand not currently in his hair. Slowly, nearly leaving goosebumps beneath his fingers, he intertwines his fingers with yours. There’s no way this is platonic. Right? Your brain screams at you.

“What?” you hum, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Rain. From the sky. Outside.”

You look at the window.

“Yeah. Yeah, J, it’s raining.”

He smiles, kissing the skin already beneath his lips. That’s new.

“I like the rain,” he chirps, voice surprisingly drowsy for how energetic he’d been before you’d left for your shower.

“Do you?”

He nods, humming. “Makes everything slow down a bit.”

“I didn’t think you liked slowing down,” you say, your fingers moving down from his hair to ghost over his back.

“I like slowing down when I’m with you,” he shrugs. You feel him shudder slightly when your nails gently scrape across his shoulder blades. “Plus, I look sexy when I’m all drenched like that.”

You snort and smack him on the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” he scoffs, head snapping up to glare at you pitifully.

“Smug bastard,” you laugh. He winks as his lips curl into a fittingly smug smirk.

“You love it,” he says. His hand squeezes yours, still held tight in his grasp. You don’t respond in words, instead opting to squeeze his hand back. You feel his heart rate jump against your ribs. His eyes flicker between yours. The smirk slowly drops into something a little less cocky. Something a little softer. Warmer. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. It’s only when his gaze moves down to your lips that your own breath stutters. That definitely can’t be platonic.

He whispers your name so quietly you almost don’t hear it. You probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so close.

“I think I love you,” he says. What.

“I love you, too, J,” you say, pasting on your friendliest voice to try and ignore the way his breath is now fanning over your face. He smells like the gum he’d stolen from your car.

“No, I mean…” he clamps his eyes shut. “I do love you, like that, like a friend. Of course I do, you’re my best friend-”

“John B’s your best friend,” you cut him off, because there’s no way this is actually happening.

“Listen, just… I,” he drops his head against your sternum, frustration seeming to roll off of him in waves.

“I’m sorry, I’m listening,” you say softly.

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” he grunts.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Pretending.

“Pretending?” you ask, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his gaze back up to yours. You smile softly at the way he nuzzles into your palm.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he asks. His eyes are closed, his nose pressed against your thumb. “I thought I was being obvious.”

You need more than these clipped comments. Stupidly, something deeper in the back of your mind can’t settle for even the chance of you misconstruing this. Of being wrong.

“Obvious about what, J?”

“I already told you,” he whispers. He just barely kisses the pad of your thumb.

“Tell me again,” you beg, holding your breath.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Good,” you hiccup.

“Good? That’s all you have to say? I’m pouring my heart out here, baby,” he huffs and your heart nearly stops altogether. A bewildered giggle slips out of you.

“That’s good because I… uh,” you swallow. “I love you, too.”

He doesn’t answer this time. He slides up the last couple of inches to press his lips against yours. His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, bringing your mouth even harder against his. His other hand squeezes yours for dear life.

You’d kissed him before. On New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight. But, that had been a quick, chaste peck between friends and you’d been able to blame the fireworks behind your eyelids on the holiday, and this. This was different. Much, much different. There were sparks tingling down to the tips of your toes. You pull back when you can no longer justify ignoring your need for oxygen and nearly whine when JJ chases your lips.

“I’m in love with you.” His voice is hoarse.

“You said that,” you giggle, brain still a little hazy.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to get me to stop saying it now,” he says. His body weight is almost fully pressed onto you as he ducks his head to place short kisses against your neck. Your fingers find his hair again, combing through the silky strands. You mentally thank him for stealing your shampoo.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic

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starsinthesky5 · 3 months ago

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make me juno* || joe burrow x reader

description: he loves you right and he wants your touch for life too. you realize one of you is cute, but two though? you just might let him make you juno ;)

a/n: surprise! felt the urge to write this so here we are. ALSO, I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE I SAW JUNO PREFORMED LIVE. LIKE BITCH. I CANT.

i hope this doesn’t suck lol. i’ve been in a slump lately and i feel so bad for keeping everyone waiting like this ;(

warnings: SMUT. it’s alot. ALOT. & language. MDNI

word count: 16.1 k

taglist (comment and ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeys-babe @joeyb1989 @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87

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“God, he looks so hot when he gets out of the shower,” you murmured under your breath, feeling a rush of heat rise from your toes to your head. “If he just grabbed me by the hips and threw me underneath him, pressed that mouth against my ear…put that hand on my stomach, holding me in place like I’m his entire world…oh god I would–…,” you daydreamed. Your breath hitched at the thought and your eyes screwed shut from the images you were seeing, it was almost too much, the way just the sight of him could set your mind and body on fire.

And then you heard his voice, soft and teasing. “You okay over there?” he asked you because of how quiet you had been since he came out of the bathroom.

You opened them a few seconds later, your cheeks red because you thought he caught you red-handed but when you glanced over at the cause of your friskiness–your husband–he was innocently sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to you. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends and a few stray water droplets clung to his golden skin as he squeezed out the final dab of his favorite lotion–cucumber scented, something you put him on–and began massaging it into his collarbone. He looked so relaxed and at peace, but your mind was far from the leisurely place he was likely in. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to share the idea that had been swirling in your head all evening since he came home from practice.

When he first walked in with that Bengals beanie on his head, those gray sweats hanging low around his waist, and that adorable baby pink Nike sweatshirt clinging to his frame, you nearly fainted. How could he look so adorable yet so sexy at the same time? Like he was one second away from holding a little baby in his arms or one second away from putting a baby inside of you.

You were already teetering on the edge, your hormones wreaking havoc inside you after he left you high and dry this morning, so his post-practice look made it much worse. He’d skipped out on a quick, pre-practice rendezvous, leaving your needs painfully unmet. What started as a soft, gentle good morning kiss quickly shifted to a sloppy, breathless makeout session, his hands pulled you closer as you begged for his touch–or anything–to bring relief to the ache in between your thighs. But his multiple alarms had other plans.

So as he made his swift exit, you were left to fend for yourself. There were several things you could have done while he was away to experience that delicious ecstasy coursing through your veins. However, you rarely took matters into your own hands because you didn’t want to take away Joe’s right to see you reach that blissful state—the one he was responsible for inducing for the rest of his life ever since he slipped that beautiful diamond ring onto your finger. He prided himself when it came to bringing you to that heavenly place, so you never wanted to strip him of his right. It was the way he carefully watched your every reaction to know what you liked and didn’t like, his focus persistent, as if your pleasure was his biggest accomplishment. It was his right, his privilege, to unravel you in that way.

So, you did your best to push those heated thoughts to the back of your mind, even if they lingered long enough to leave you flustered for the rest of the day. And it felt like every little thing was working against you; the graze of your clothing against your skin, the way your mind would wander back to the last time his hands were on you, and even the painfully innocent texts from him that asked how your day was going.

You were so fucking horny and there was nothing you could do about it.

And then when you saw him once he came home from practice, those hormones went into overdrive fast. It’s as if every sense was heightened. Every time his fingers would graze over your clothed shoulder, you felt like ripping your clothes off. Whenever his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than usual, you felt like pouncing onto him. Every time he curled up on the couch to work on the pac-man arcade Lego set you bought him, you daydreamed about him building a Lego set with his little one, his child, your baby…one day.

Those daydreams had become quite frequent, to be honest.

You and Joe had been married for a little over a year now, and married life was everything you had dreamed of. Maybe even more. It still felt as though you two were dating because the spark between you hadn’t dulled; it only deepened. Everything about your life as husband and wife felt easy, natural, and light, almost as if you two were perfectly in sync.

Your home became a safe space filled with reminders of your love; framed photos from your honeymoon lining the walls, the scent of his cologne lingering on all your clothes and blankets, and a daily habit of finding tiny notes he left for you in the most random places. It was like living in your own little bubble of love, unbothered by the chaos of the outside world. Those evenings when you’d lounge together on the couch, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder as you watched the latest episode of some trashy reality TV show, were your favorites. Those nights when you’d cook together, teasing each other about who was better at chopping the vegetables, which would eventually turn into a food fight because neither of you would admit defeat, was maximum domestic bliss for you. And other nights, when you’d order takeout and slow dance in the kitchen, barefoot and carefree to “Enchanted” by Taylor Swift, reassured you that you made the right choice by saying yes to spending forever with your favorite person in the entire world.

Everything was perfect with just the two of you, yet in those quiet moments when you caught Joe’s soft gaze lingering on a family, or the way he playfully messed up your nephew’s hair, or like earlier, when he’d come home looking like he was coming home to his wife and baby, you couldn’t help but wonder what life would look like if it was the three of you.

The thought came unprovoked sometimes, like when you’d be in the grocery store, lost in thought imagining the faint pitter-patter of tiny feet across the hardwood floors because you walked past the baby clothes, or picturing Joe cradling a baby in his strong arms because you saw his teammates doing so with their families. You wondered what it would be like to have your own little one–a perfect blend of the two of you.

There was no rush, of course. Life with Joe felt full and beautiful just the way it was–just the two of you and football, a rhythm you’d fallen into easily and had been dancing to since LSU. But lately, the thoughts of Joe talking to your baby bump had become more common and it made your heart ache in the best way. You could almost imagine waking up in the morning to his cheek pressed against your belly, whispering promises to his little tiger who was growing inside of you. It felt so vivid, so real, that it left you breathless.

You had talked about wanting kids together before you got engaged and you two were on the same page about all of it, like you were about everything else in your relationship. But the one thing you had never talked about was when.

The idea of Joe as a father made you want to kick your feet back and forth like a little girl; the image, the idea of it, was absolutely adorable and tooth-rottingly sweet. You wanted to see his hands, the ones that clung to you, cradling a tiny bundle of joy that you both created through your love for one another. You wanted to hear his adorable little laugh as he played peekaboo or watch his face light up the face time your baby wrapped their little fingers around his.

You knew it wasn’t about if, only when. You wanted it, him, and everything that future could hold so badly that it made you ache in ways you couldn’t even put into words. He was your home, your safe place, your everything. Joe had this way of filling every corner of your heart, making you feel so cherished and complete, and the thought of sharing that love with your child was overwhelming in the most beautiful way. You adored him more than you thought it was possible to adore anyone. You had no doubt he’d make the best father and the way he cared for you, for the people he loved, was proof enough.

You needed this with him. God, you’d do anything to have it with him.

“...Joe?” you finally said, snapping out of your thoughts.

He turned around slightly to look at you, placing the bottle of lotion to the side and raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”.

You felt a wave of nervousness come over you, but you were already too lost in those thoughts to go back. “Here goes nothing,” you thought as you flipped onto your back, your head leaning against the bed frame as you held your phone close to your chest, “...H- Have you ever thought about…spicing things up a little?” you asked, your voice so faint and gentle, almost trying to sound innocent.

Joe tilted his head in confusion, “Spicing things…up?” he echoed. “What do you mean?” he added with a small chuckle.

You felt your heartbeat increase, your breathing deepening, and your palms becoming sweatier by the second. You sat up, still clutching your phone, “Like new…positions? I- I was doing some late-night research,” you said, trying to remain casual but you couldn’t help but wince at the burning sensation in your cheeks.

Joe’s lips shifted into a smirk as he turned to face you fully, his gray sweatpants hanging loosely around his waist and his bare chest basically an open invitation for you to mark him up. “Late-night research, huh? Even late at night, you’re thinking 'bout me?” he wiggled his eyebrows and said. “What exactly did you find?” he chuckled.

You quickly unlocked your phone and pulled up the image you had saved earlier–a diagram of a particularly intricate position that had you on edge for the past few hours because of the mental image it gave you. “Have you ever tried, this one?” you asked, holding your phone out to him.

Joe’s eyebrows shot up as he studied the screen, “Wowwww,” he said, dragging it out with a giggle. “This looks… ambitious,”.

You broke out into a laugh, sitting up on your knees and moving closer to him, “You mean to tell me, Mr. Quarterback doesn’t think he can handle it?” you teased.

His eyes snapped up to yours, a playful yet challenging sparkle in them, “Oh, I can handle it,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “But can you?”.

You eyed him up and down for a second, feeling the heat in your belly grow with each glance at the little happy trail below his belly button which led to what you were craving. “Don’t underestimate your wife, Burrow. She’s got moves,” you said, running your hand up his muscular chest, your ruby-red nails leaving light scratches as you inched toward his neck.

“Oh, does she now?” he smiled, moving closer to you.

“Yes, she does. Maybe you should let her show you?” you whispered, moving closer to him, your lips planting a few light kisses along his jaw to finish your sentence.

Joe pulled back, meeting your tell-tale eyes to see if you were serious, and the unwavering fire behind them told him you were. He grabbed your phone from your hand, setting it down on the nightstand, his grin widening, “Alright, challenge accepted. But don’t get mad if this turns into an Olympic-level workout,”.

“Gotta go for the gold, baby,” you winked. “We’re too skilled to back down,”.

—

A little later, the two of you were naked and sprawled across the bed, Joe holding the phone up for reference as you tried to untangle yourselves from the failed first attempt at the intimate position. “Wait,” he said, squinting at the screen. “Is your leg supposed to go over my shoulder or–,”.

“Your leg!” you cut him off, giggling as you pointed to the diagram. “It’s definitely your leg! But wait, I think we have it all wrong because no leg needs to go over a shoulder. Is the photo upside down?”. You were even unsure of it yourself, you never really switched it up like this in the bedroom so this was equally as hilarious as intimidating.

Joe groaned as he dropped his head, then flopped onto his back dramatically, “This is starting to feel like a TikTok challenge, babe. Sex should not be this difficult,”.

You grabbed the pillow from underneath your head and whacked him with it as giggles fell from your lips, “You’re the one who said you could handle it!”.

He caught the pillow, tossing it to the side as he rolled back toward you, “I know, but whoever made these positions clearly is against getting laid because half the time would get wasted just figuring out whose leg goes where. Maybe we should just stick to what we do best? That always works best for us and things…things are already super spicy whenever you end up underneath me, why try to change it?” he winked as his smile softened.

“You’re probably right. I don’t feel like being more sore than usual for no reason and that looks like something that’d make me pull a leg muscle or two,” you laughed.

“You still up for it? Or did you just want to do something different tonight and you’re over it now,” he asked, pushing a few strands of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to push you into doing something if you weren’t feeling it anymore, he only cared about your pleasure and he was worried that not being able to figure this out would put a dent in your high.

“Oh, yes,” you groaned, waving away his worries. “I’ve been about 5 seconds away from letting go ever since you left me high and dry this morning,” the words falling out of your mouth instantly with no shame or hesitation.

Joe’s face dropped slightly, “Sorry about that,”. He really did feel bad for leaving you this morning, but he knew better than to be late to today’s practice. The day before, you woke up similarly, except Joe’s head was stuffed in between your thighs for ten minutes before he held you on top of him for another twenty. The extra thirty minutes in bed–although blissful and oh-so-delicious–caused him to be the last one in the facility and the last one to get to the morning meeting, and everyone was on his ass about it. Especially, because of that pretty golden tattoo you left on his neck that he forgot to cover up.

“Damn, Joe. Ever since you got married it’s like you became even more pussy whipped than you were before,” Ja’marr teased.

“God Damn, Joe. Give Y/N a break before she starts sleeping in the guestroom. She’s probably tired of your ass,” Tee laughed, earning a chuckle from Ja’marr.

“Listen, son. I know being young and in love and newly married is…uh…exciting and…*cough*...thrilling..but you have a job and as the team leader, it doesn’t look good to walk in here with your shirt on backward and those marks on your neck. Bad example for the guys,” Zac awkwardly whispered to him.

“Ah,” you interjected, pushing a finger to his pink, plump lips. “I’m not mad. I’m just so fucking horny and the way you looked when you came home plus the way you looked after your shower made it worse,”.

He wishes he could show this to them right now. It would be the perfect, “Loserrrrr” moment for him to tease his guys about. You would and could never get tired of him, or this.

He raised an eyebrow at your cheeky confession, “Really?”.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I don’t care how we do it, I just want you,” you said softly, your hand shifting into his hair as you pushed him closer to you, close enough to press your lips against his.

Joe melted into your lips the moment they collided, his hands naturally found your hips, gripping them firmly, pulling you to him as if he couldn’t bear to let go. In one swift motion, his body shifted and he was on top of you again. His movements were unhurried but filled with a desperate kind of tenderness that made your heart race. He wanted you just as badly, if not more. Ever since he slid that gorgeous ring onto your finger, something in him shifted. Joe had always been obsessed with you, but now? Now, it was like he literally couldn’t function without you. Just one glance at your face, whether you were freshly awake with a bedhead or dressed up for a night out, his composure would crumble. You’d catch him staring at you every so often, his eyes dark and filled with lust, and before you knew it, you were pushed against the closest surface and his name was falling from your lips over and over.

It didn’t take much to push him over the edge, the mere sound of your laugh and the curve of your smile were enough to drive him crazy. Joe might have been many things, but with you? He was a man utterly and unapologetically consumed by love, and by you.

“Just hold me and explore me, baby. Stick to what you do best, that’s more than enough,” you murmured between kisses, your voice soft and laced with affection. His lips stilled for a second as he absorbed your words, and when his eyes met yours, they were filled with a familiar promise of love and devotion. Without breaking the kiss, his hand reached back for the white sheets, tugging them over the two of you.

You felt his thick erection slide against your slick folds, each slip and slide sending a flutter throughout your belly, the sensation prompting you to pull away. “Please,” you hissed, “I need it,”.

“I know, baby,” he chuckled, pushing your lips back to his as he pressed you further back into the cloud-like bed. “You’re so wet…wonder what got you like this,”.

“You,” you whimpered, feeling his lips slide along your jawline, then to that spot on your neck that he loved, and then anywhere they could go to hear your pretty, soft, open-mouthed moans. “J- Joe,” you whispered, feeling him position his cock right at your entrance while he suckled on the spot below your ear.

“Hold on for me,” he groaned, then pushed into your warm, dripping core in one strong movement.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, fingers digging into his taut muscles as you clung to him with everything you had.

His body moved against yours with a fast, frantic need, every thrust igniting a fire that burned hotter with each second. His rhythm was raw and relentless as if he couldn’t bear to have an inch of space between you. The sound of your bodies moving together, skin against skin, became a beautiful, intimate soundtrack as he pushed into you with a force that stole your breath. The way his eyes were glued to yours and how his arms caged you in, creating a safe yet electrifying cocoon, was another thing that you loved about him. He focused all of his attention on you at all times, it felt like you were the only thing in his world.

“Tell me I’m the only one, baby,” you whimpered, your voice cracking as his cock grazed that perfect, sensitive spot inside you with every snap of his hips.

His breath was hot and rough against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Oh, fuck, baby…fuck, yeah…you’re the only one,” he moaned, his voice low and strained with pleasure. “The. only. one. who. has. me. like. this.” his words were punctuated by the unwavering rhythm of his thrusts, each one powerful and deliberate, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Just like that, baby,” you whimpered. The way your walls clenched around him made his head fall to your shoulder, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself deeper. “So good for me, angel,” he groaned, his voice turning into a low growl as he thrusted harder, his movements exact yet full of raw desperation. Every push and pull of his body against yours sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, your senses completely overwhelmed by him.

Another moan escaped your lips, louder this time, as his pace quickened. “Oh, oh…oh, fuck, Joey. I can’t…,” you cried out, your nails digging into his back, your entire body trembling beneath him.

“Yes, you can,” he rasped, his hand sliding down your body and gripping your thigh, pulling it higher around his waist to angle you even closer to him. The shift made his cock hit even deeper, and your cry of pleasure turned into a near scream as he drove into you relentlessly, chasing both of your releases.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gritted out, his forehead pressed against yours as his hips snapped against you with a rhythm that left no room to think–only to feel. “You’re mine, angel. All mine,”.

The way he claimed you, the way he adored you, held you, and explored you, the way his body pressed against yours so completely, was intoxicating. The sound of his deep groans, the slap of your bodies meeting, and the way his hand slid up your waist to cup your face was too much, and yet, not enough. “I’m so close, baby,” you whimpered, your legs shaking as you clung to him, overwhelmed by the mere passion in his voice.

“Let go for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours as his thrusts became harder, deeper, his movements rough yet perfectly attuned to your body. “I’ve got you, angel. Let go. I’m right here,”.

And with one final thrust, his body pressed against yours, the band in your belly shattered, your cries of pleasure filling the room as waves of satisfaction crashed over you. “Joe…oh my god! Joe!” you moaned, panting as the aftermath of your high vibrated throughout your body. “You feel…you feel so- so good, fuck. Joe,”.

Joe’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his release, his groans getting louder and more uneven in your ear. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten, his body tensing against yours. “Baby, fuck, I’m so close,” he groaned, his voice strained with need. But then, his hips faltered for just a moment as the realization hit him. “Shit…I forgot the condom,” he muttered breathlessly, his thrusts slowing slightly. “I’ll pull out, I swear–,”.

His words barely registered in your brain as they were drowned out by the heat building inside you and the idea that suddenly sparked in your mind. Your heart raced, but not from nerves–it was something else. A lightbulb moment. This could be the start of what you’d been wanting, what you’d been dreaming of for so long. This could be a way to have that conversation with him later…maybe even act on it before talking about it…

“No,” you murmured, your voice trembling but stable enough to catch his attention. “Don’t pull out, Joe. It’s okay,”.

Joe rarely ever came inside of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was more so that back then, having a kid in college or while he was trying to make a name for himself in the NFL wasn’t exactly ideal. You both had sex like this a lot, raw and with no barriers, but he found other spots to push out his release other than being inside of you. So right now, when you said that you wanted him to come inside of you, he was slightly confused.

His eyes widened, his movements stuttering as he processed what you said. “Baby…you’re not on anything,” he said hesitantly, his forehead pressing against yours. There was a twinge of uncertainty in his voice, even though his body was trembling with need, his will hanging by a thread. “Are you sure?”.

You nodded, your hands sliding up his back to hold him closer, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “It’s okay, Joey,”.

Maybe he would take the hint? That you weren’t just saying this because you were too caught up in the lust to think straight, but that you actually wanted this…wanted more than this.

His breathing hitched, and for a moment, he looked as though he was going to argue. But the way you gazed up at him, your words full of love and comfort, completely untangled him. His hesitation melted away, replaced by an overwhelming desire and trust. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips snapping back into rhythm, harder and more desperate this time. “You’re gonna kill me, baby…fuck, I can’t hold it,” he growled, his thrusts turning frantic as he buried himself deeper, chasing his release.

You moaned loudly, the intensity of his movements sending you spiraling into pleasure once again. The thought of him spilling into you, of this moment potentially being the start of something new, pushed you over the edge. “Do it, Joey,” you urged breathlessly. “I want you to. Please. Give it to me, baby.”

With a choked groan, he finally let go, his body tensing as he gave in. “Oh, fuck,” he growled, his hips jerking erratically as he came inside you, his release hot and overwhelming as he pressed himself as deeply as he could, holding you tightly as he rode out his climax. His breaths were shaky as he came down, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Shit, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of disbelief. “I can’t believe we just…,”.

You smiled, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your tone soft and reassuring. “I’m okay. You’re okay,”.

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any doubt, but all he found was love and certainty. Slowly, a smile broke through his post-climax fog, and he leaned in to kiss you tenderly. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured against your lips.

“No, you are,” you smiled, leaning back in and dropping two kisses on his lips.

—

A little later, the two of you lay tangled together under the sheets. You both were a little too wrung out to do anything else, so you decided to stay like this. His hand slid up and down your side, his touch as usual, soft and comforting, but your mind was moving at the speed of light.

He hadn’t said a word.

You kind of expect him to bring it up, maybe even tease you about the heat of the moment, or tell you how he felt about it. Instead, he seemed so relaxed and at peace, especially with how his head was resting in the crook of your neck as if nothing unusual happened.

You felt the urge to say something, but how? You couldn’t just blurt it out, “That might get me pregnant and I want that, but do you want that?”. So, you decided to test the waters.

“That was… intense,” you mumbled, your voice laced with coolness as your fingers traced shapes on his bare back.

“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, pressing a wet, lazy kiss to your shoulder. “You drive me fucking crazy, Y/N,”.

“I love him. God, I love him,” you thought to yourself, but your mind was still stuck on it. “I mean…we don’t usually…,” you trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint.

“We don’t usually what?” he asked while propping himself on his elbow to look at you, his tone giving away that he really was clueless.

Your cheeks felt like they turned red again as you hesitated to answer his question. You took a deep breath, “You know, we usually never…skip the condom,” you said, your voice soft as you searched his face for a reaction.

Joe blinked, and for a second you saw a spark behind his eyes, but then it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He shrugged slightly, “I guess we got caught up in the moment, huh?” he said casually, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You bit your lip, trying to hide your disappointment. He wasn’t getting it. Either that, or he wasn’t ready to go there, and you definitely did not want to push. Maybe now wasn’t the right time to bring it up?

“Yeah,” you murmured, forcing a smile as you ran your fingers through his messy hair. “Caught up in a moment,”.

He dropped another kiss on your lips and mumbled an ‘i love you’ before settling back beside you, his arm draping over your waist as his eyes fluttered shut. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind swirling with a million thoughts. “Maybe I should let it go for tonight. He must be tired,” you thought, letting out a breath as you relaxed against him.

But as you lay there, another idea formed. If your adorably clueless husband isn’t going to bring it up, maybe you’d start dropping hints–little comments here and there, planting the seed in his mind like he did inside of you. He was the smartest person you knew, but when it came to subtlety, he sometimes needed to help.

You smiled to yourself, already thinking of ideas on how to ease the idea into his mind. But for now, you let it go and allowed his steady breathing to soothe you to sleep.

A few days later – Bengals Bye Week Day 1

The living room was calm, the soft light of the TV cast a gentle glow over the room as the quiet pitter-patter of the rain added to the comforting ambiance. Joe was sitting next to you on the couch, one of his arms lazily resting around your shoulder as your legs were stretched out in front of him. You were as usual, curled up next to him, the large hoodie you stole from his closet hiding most of your body as a fluffy Bengals blanket covered you both to protect you from the cool winter air. Your eyes fell to the coffee table in front of you, half-empty pizza boxes and freshly popped popcorn scattered across the surface, a reminder of the cozy night you two were having today during night one of the Bengal’s Bye-Week.

The movie on the TV was a cheesy rom-com, clearly your choice since your husband would’ve picked and preferred some action movie that you would’ve been too lazy to focus on. Rom-coms were perfect for cozy nights because you didn’t really need to put all of your focus on what was happening. However, this time, you were glued to the screen. There was a little family moment playing right now–a dad chasing his toddler around the living room and swooping them into their arms as their laughter filled the room. It was a classic scene that had been done a million times before in the movies, but this time, something about it made your heart swell with a familiar ache.

You shifted slightly, reaching to the side table to grab your water glass to take a small sip, the dad’s laughter in the movie echoing through the room, and without thinking twice, you blurted, “You’d make a hot dad, you know that?”.

Your cheeks instantly heated up, “Oh, shit,” you quickly thought after you said that. “Where the hell did that come from? I thought I was easing him into this…talk about subtle”.

Joe, who had been scrolling through his camera roll for a few minutes to find a photo of a pair of shoes he wanted to show you, froze mid-swipe, his eyes darting to you and then to the TV screen. “W- what?” he sputtered, confused and dazed like a deer in headlights by what you had just said.

“Play it cool, Y/N. You said it, no going back now,”. You took a sip of the cool beverage, then laughed, “You good there, Burrow?” you teased, watching as his cheeks turned a shade of red you knew he didn’t like to admit. He always has that adorable blush on his face when you say something about his physique. He knew he was gifted in the looks department, but he was never one to say it out loud himself. Another reason for this blush was what you said after that.

The word dad.

“What did you just say?” he muttered, a playful twinkle in his eyes as the redness spread to his ears, not being able to believe what you just said.

You grinned, “I said, you’d make a hot dad. I mean, look at you. You’re already so good with kids and I bet you’d be the one to carry one around in a baby carrier, all rugged and sexy,”.

Joe’s brows furrowed as a smile threatened to tug at the corner of his lips. He leaned back against the couch, returning to the position he was in before, “You’re insane,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he laughed at your “joke”.

“Please,” you raised an eyebrow and said, “You’ve got major ‘dad energy’,”.

“Dad energy?” he snorted, the crinkles around his baby blues at full display, “I can’t believe you just said that,”. His hand traveled to your thigh underneath the cozy blanket, giving it a gentle squeeze that matched the tone of his voice despite the fact he was brushing off what you were saying as if it was a silly joke–which it wasn’t.

“Um, why not?” you asked innocently. “It’s a compliment, babe. You’d be the guy, the one who’s always there for his family. The fun, loving dad who’d give anything to make sure his kid knows they’re loved. That’s so hot,”.

He stayed quiet for a few seconds while his gaze lingered on you, the mood shifted as if he was processing something. “You really think that?” he asked, his voice quieter, the playful teasing gone.

You nodded, “I do. You have this…calm about you, you know? Like your life is so chaotic but no matter what, you make room for those little moments, the ones that matter most. You hardly get overwhelmed and manage to give everything your 110%,”.

There was a longer pause this time, the only sound in the room being the faint background noise of the movie. Finally, he let out a soft exhale, his eyes moving down to your lips for a moment before moving back to yours. “You’re making me blush,” he said, almost a little shyly.

“Good,” you teased, leaning in just enough so your noses brushed, “I’m not done yet,”.

Joe raised an eyebrow at your answer, “What, you going to tell me I look like I’d be good at changing diapers next?”.

You laughed, the nature of the conversation was serious but the little jokes and playfulness added a lighter touch to it. You leaned in a little closer so that your lips were just an inch from his, “You kidding?” you whispered, “I think you’d be amazing at everything, Joey. Not just dad stuff. Everything,”.

Joe’s breath hitched, and before he could say something, you kissed him softly, just enough to make your point clear. When you pulled back, his hands moved to the back of your neck to pull you back in, this time with more urgency. “Alright,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’ve got me now but don’t go giving me too many ideas, or I might start thinking you’re serious about this,”.

You grinned, feeling the heat between you both rise, particularly in your belly. “Who says I’m not serious?” you thought as you pushed your lips against his again.

Two days later - Bengals Thanksgiving Dinner

The air buzzed with energy as the dinner unfolded in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the room. Families mingled with players, and the mood was warm and festive. You had so much to be thankful for, but the thing you were most thankful for was the man beside you who hadn’t left your side since you got here.

Joe was his usual charming self, offering warm smiles and handshakes to everyone who approached. He was the star of the show as usual, but even in a crowded room, he had a way of making you feel like the only person in his world.

Joe loved you right.

Even when his life demanded so much from him, he never let you feel like you were anything less than his top priority. Whether he was drowning in the chaos of the football season or navigating the plethora of public appearances, he had a way of grounding you, making sure you knew you were the center of his galaxy.

He always paid attention, even when you thought he wasn’t. If his eyes were glued to game film, he’d still reach over and rest a hand on your leg, his thumb would be rubbing little circles as if he was saying ‘I’m here with you’. If he was caught up in a conversation, he’d make sure to check in with you through a quick glance or a wink, a silent acknowledgment that he was thinking of you.

Joe didn’t just love you; he made loving you feel like the easiest thing in the world.

If you were tired, he’d insist on carrying you to bed, no matter how much you resisted. If you were upset, he wouldn’t rest until he made you laugh again. And even on days he had nothing left to give, he’d still find a way to make you feel seen–a quick kiss on your forehead, a few ‘i love you’s’, or the way he’d hold you just a little tighter at night.

“You’re my everything,” he’d tell you, his voice steady and sure like it was the most obvious truth in the world. And you believed him. Because Joe had a way of showing his love in the little things, the quiet gestures that spoke louder than words ever could.

And tonight was another example. He was the center of attention and had everyone approaching him for conversations, oftentimes overlooking you. But he made sure to rope you into the conversation each time, to hold you by your hip and keep you against his chest, and to constantly keep his attention on you whenever he had a free moment.

Currently, you stood close to Joe as usual, your fingers loosely entwined with his as you both sipped on your drinks and soaked in the atmosphere. Not far from where you were, Evan McPherson sat on a plush couch, bouncing his baby girl on his knee. Merritt was all smiley and giggly, her tiny fists pumping in excitement as she watched the world around her.

“Having fun?” Joe murmured, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You turned to him with a soft smile, “I am,” you smiled, your gaze lingering on his baby blues. “What about you?”.

His lips curved into a familiar, boyish grin that made your heart flutter every time. “When I’m with you? Always,” he said simply, though his sincerity shone through every word.

Before you could respond, your attention moved to Merritt when Evan leaned down, letting her waddle on her tiny, unstable feet toward Joe. “Looks like another girl has eyes for you, Joey,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with a grin.

Joe laughed softly, setting his drink on the table as he crouched down to meet her at eye level. “Hey there, little lady,” he said gently, his voice soft in a way that melted your heart instantly. He reached out a hand, and instantly, her tiny fingers latched onto his index finger, gripping it tightly like it was the most important thing in the world.

Your eyes lit up with a kind of sparkle that said a thousand words, and your heart swelled with warmth at the sigh of Joe, utterly fascinated by the innocent gesture. “Wow, she’s got quite the grip,” Joe said, his eyes twinkling as he gave her hand a little shake, earning a blubbering laugh from the little baby. “She been spending time in the receiver room?” he joked.

Evan laughed, “Ja’marr better watch out,”.

You crouched down to where Joe was, leaning closer so that your words were just for him, “Look,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “She knows you’ve got dad vibes,”.

Hello, hint number two.

Joe turned to you, both eyebrows raised in surprise as a blush crept up on his face, “Dad vibes?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your eyes darting between him and the baby still clutching his finger. “She can sense it. It’s a thing, you know,” you nodded, trying to sound credible so that another hint would be dropped.

Joe chuckled, shaking his head but not pulling his hand from Merritts. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his eyes filled with a kind of soft love that you’d never seen before.

Was this the look he’d have in his eyes when his own baby would be holding his finger like that?

“Oh my god. Please. PLEASE,” you thought to yourself, feeling an overwhelming amount of fluffy thoughts fill your mind. Would his baby cling to his finger like that while they walked? Would his baby laugh like that at his adorable faces and jokes? Would his baby look at their daddy with that same look of love?

You were so far gone thinking about Joe and your future baby that you didn’t even realize that you were mumbling lyrics to the song you’d heard earlier on the drive over to the event. “You make me wanna make you fall in love…,”.

It was exactly how you felt watching Joe. He made you want everything–a family, a future, a life filled with moments like these.

Joe glanced over at you, catching the dreamy look in your eyes. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice quiet and curious.

“Hmm?” you blinked, realizing you’d been caught humming.

“You were singing something,” he said, his lips shifting into that little half-smile that always made your knees weak.

You hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice was soft and a little shy, “It’s just a song. Made me think of you,”.

His smile widened as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’ve got that look again,” he murmured.

“What look?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as he smirked.

“The one where you’re plotting something,” he teased. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”.

You shook your head, holding back a grin. “Nothing,” you said, your voice light but your heart full. “Anyway, I know what I’m talking about,” you teased, giving him a cheeky grin. “She can feel the vibes,”.

His attention shifted back to Merritt, who had started babbling as if she was trying to have a full-blown conversation with him. And Joe being the sweetheart he is, started playing along by nodding and murmuring things that made her giggle even harder. Watching him like this, so natural and soft, made you want to scream. The image of him holding your baby like this flickered in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had the same image and feeling tugged at his heart.

After conversing with Joe, Merritt was eventually scooped up by Evan, and she whined in protest as her grip on Joe’s finger was forced loose. “Sorry, bud. Looks like you’ve got competition,” Joe joked, earning another giggle from Merritt.

“She’ll stop when I bribe her with a slice of the pumpkin pie that Y/N brought,” Evan smiled, glancing back as he heard Gracie call out for him. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Husband duties call,” he waved before walking back to his wife.

Joe straightened up, brushing off his knees as he turned back to you, “Dad vibes, huh?” he said again, this time with a little smirk.

You shrugged, trying to keep it cool despite the butterflies in your belly. “Just saying. She didn’t grab my finger like that,”.

Joe laughed, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulled you closer. “Guess I’ve got the magic touch,” he teased, a softness in his voice but there was also a flicker of something unspoken lingering between you.

Maybe, just maybe…the seeds had started to plant in his mind.

The next night - Home

You both lay intertwined in the afterglow of your highs, his body pressed close against yours as you watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. You both were still trying to catch your breath, a comfortable silence developing between you. You turned your head up to look at him, your lips morphing into a teasing smile as you traced a finger along his chest. “Mm, I like the way you fit,” you lazily murmured the sexual innuendo, your voice soft and teasing as you slid your fingers down his chest.

Joe raised an eyebrow, intrigued by what you were talking about. “Fit, huh?” he chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk. “I could say the same about you, babe. You were made for me,”.

You shrugged, a sly grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to kiss him. “I mean, it’s not like I have to tell your hot ass a thing,” you said between kisses, “Yeah, you just get it,” you nodded.

Joe’s eyes darkened with a familiar hunger, the kind that always seemed to fire up when you whispered little things like that. “Get what?” he asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy from the countless times he groaned and moaned your name just a few minutes ago.

You trailed your hand over his body, your touch slow, purposeful, as you let the words fall from your lips. “The whole package, babe,” you smirked, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so hot and you know it and you have the full package–the brains, the looks, the athletic ability, the sweetness. Damn, I like the way you fit, god bless your dad’s genetics,”.

He laughed again, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a twinkle that told you he was just as aware of the subtle comment as you were. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you forward for another kiss. “I guess your dad did something right, too,” he teased, laughing at your silly comments, his lips brushing over yours as he moved to kiss your jawline.

“I’m serious, Joey,” you said as he pressed light kisses around your face. “You’re so sexy and I just…ugh. It hurts,” you whined.

He pulled his face up from your neck, a confused grin on his face, “...You..alright?” he carefully asked.

“More than alright,” you breathed out with an almost drunken lovesick look on your face. “I’m just so in love with you,”.

Joe smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your puffy lips, “And I’m just sooooo in love with you too, wifey. More than I can ever put into words or physically show. You’re the best thing in my life and fuck, I’m obsessed with every part of you,”.

"You know,” you murmured, your lips curling into a soft smile as you gazed up at him. “I think I really like this version of you,”.

His brow arched, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Oh, yeah? And what version is that?”.

“This one,” you said, your fingers gliding down to brush his jawline. “The one who looks at me like I hung the stars. The one who can’t stop touching me, even when he’s half-asleep,”.

Joe chuckled, his warm laughter grumbling against your chest as he pulled you closer. “Can you blame me? Look at what I get to wake up to every day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You make it way too easy to fall for you all over again,”.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest. His lips, once again, moved down to your cheek, then your jaw, planting soft, lingering kisses that made your skin tingle.

“You’re such a sweet talker,” you teased, your voice light and playful as you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Only for you, angel,” he replied, his lips now hovering just above yours, his breath warm and intoxicating. He kissed you then, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you ended and he began. When he finally pulled back, his hand moved to rest on your lower belly, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the soft skin there. The touch made your breath hitch slightly, a quiet spark of excitement lighting up inside you because of where his hand was.

“You’re gonna spoil me,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection as you reached up to brush a stray curl from his face.

Joe’s smile softened, his blue eyes locked onto yours. “You deserve to be spoiled,” he said simply, his tone full of confidence.

Your heart swelled, and before you could think twice, you let the words slip out, casual and subtle. “Well, you better not forget that when you’re the future father of my children,”.

Joe froze for a moment, his hand stilling on your stomach as his eyes widened slightly. “What’d you say?” he asked, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

You smiled, pretending like nothing happened as you leaned up to kiss his jawline. “I said you’re good at spoiling me,” you replied, your tone light and innocent, as if you hadn’t just dropped a hint that made your heart race.

Joe narrowed his eyes playfully, clearly catching the change in your tone but deciding not to push it. Instead, he smirked, his lips twisting into that familiar mischievous grin that always made your stomach flip. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips trailing down your neck. “Because I plan to keep doing it. Forever,”.

And as his kisses deepened and his hands roamed, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Another subtle hint was planted and there were many more to come.

You wondered if he was starting to catch on…It’s not like you had been giving the dad-and-baby talk a break…

A few nights later - Dinner at Home

The faint sounds of the music filled the kitchen as you and Joe sat at the table you’d set up for dinner. Plates of half-finished food sat between you, but the focus wasn’t on eating anymore. It was on the way Joe kept leaning closer to you, stealing kisses between bites, and the way his adorable laugh filled the air every time you tried to swat him away.

You’d set your playlist to shuffle earlier, but when Sabrina Carpenter’s “Juno” started to play, you couldn’t help but grin. “Perfect timing for another hint,” you thought to yourself. The beat was light and playful, the melody so addictive it became hard for you to sit in your seat. You quickly got up from your chair and grabbed your untouched spoon to use as a microphone, twirling around the kitchen as you mouthed the words to yourself while you watched Joe. He was now sipping on his drink and watching you with curiosity, but also amused at the pop-star-like show you were putting on.

“I know you want my touch for life, If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno. You know I just might let you lock me down tonight. One of me is cute, but two, though? Give it to me, baby. You make me wanna make you fall in love,” you sang, pointing straight to Joe as your beautiful voice echoed through the house.

Joe’s eyebrows shot up, his form pausing mid-air as a slow, knowing smirk face spread across his face. He leaned back in his chair, comfortably crossing his arms, and his baby blues sparked with wonder. “Oh, really?” he said, his tone laced with intrigue. “You might let me make you Juno, huh?”.

You blinked innocently, but the blush on your cheeks gave you away, “It’s just a song,” you replied casually.

“Mmhm,” he nodded slowly, clearly not convinced. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table as his grin widened. “Seems like a pretty specific song to sing along to while staring right at me, don’t you think?”.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool even as your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. “It’s a catchy song, Joey. Don’t flatter yourself,” you said while slipping back into your seat.

“Oh, I’m flattered,” he teased, his smirk turning devilish as he leaned closer, his voice dropping lower. “So, what’s the deal, huh? You trying to tell me something?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you shoved a piece of bread into your mouth to avoid answering. But Joe wasn’t letting it go. He reached out, gently tugging your hand away from your mouth, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“Come on, angel,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “You don’t just drop a line like that without explaining yourself,”.

Your cheeks burned as you finally met his gaze, the warmth in his expression melting your resolve. “Maybe I just like the idea,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe raised an eyebrow at your confession. “The idea, huh?” he repeated, his hand traveling down to your thigh. “And what idea is that, babe?”.

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his ear, your voice a soft, sultry whisper. “Guess you’ll have to keep loving me right to find out,” you teased, pulling back with a wink that left him grinning.

The next morning

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows as you sat on the counter, scrolling through the notifications on your phone while Joe leaned against the kitchen island, sipping his post-workout smoothie. He had just come out from the gym, his hair still damp from his quick rinse-off, and wearing one of those fitted shirts that hugged his chest and shoulders just right. The sight of him standing there, effortlessly attractive and completely unaware of how sexy he looked, made you feel lightheaded.

“Literally fuck me. He looks so sexy and daddy right now,” you thought to yourself, feeling your panties dampen at the thoughts filling your head. “I swear to god, he better get these hints fast. I’m so ready to be the mother of his beautiful children,”.

Your staring wasn’t exactly…unnoticeable either. You were practically drooling at him when he looked up from his smoothie. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, his brow rising as he questioned your motive.

You smirked, holding your phone up and sneakily snapping a photo of him before he could notice, “No reason,” you replied, trying to hide your true feelings by sounding soft.

Joe rolled his eyes and shook his head, wearing an almost bashful expression; however, that didn't stop you from sending the photo of the man who was hotter than the sun to your group chat.

you: guys…tell me this man isn’t giving “sexy future dad vibes” right now.

maya: girl, STOP. he looks like he’d change diapers and still have the energy to fix the sink or something.

lacy: i swear he’s the type to pull out the “dad voice” for bedtime stories and have the kids begging for more.

emma: not even kidding, he’d probably rock a baby carrier like a runway model. wait..he basically is after that vogue thing. damn, y/n…you really got the whole package with joe

you: stoppppp, i’m blushing.

lacy: oh, YOU’RE blushing? meanwhile, we’re all over here swooning by just thinking about little joe and y/n babies

maya: dead serious, if you don’t have his baby, i’m applying for the job (im kidding. james would kill me)

emma: same. like, does he have a brother?

you: calm downnn. he’s mine.

lacy: we know. we’re just living vicariously through you.

emma: no joke, though. aand i bet he’s already thought about it…you should ask him

maya: yeah, casually drop it during pillow talk. like, “hey babe, how do you feel about onesies?”

lacy: LMAO. or say, “you’d look so hot holding our baby. thoughts?”

you: …well, I may or may not have *just* said something like that a few nights ago

maya: OMG, WHAT DID HE SAY?

you: i acted like i didn’t say anything and he didn’t ask…just joey being beautifully clueless as usual ;)

emma: LOL. iconic.

lacy: he’s probably in the bathroom googling “how to be the hottest dad alive” right now

maya: he’s already got that title on lock, y/n you just gotta make it official

you: you guys are insane. but also not wrong

lacy: we live to hype you up. now go make him earn that sexy future dad title

emma: and then report back. details, queen. detailssss

maya: high five for locking that down, y/n :) you seriously won at life and just know im waiting for the pregnancy reveal…get to it.

lacy: mhm. i want to be called auntie lacy NOWW

You couldn’t control your laughter, the sound vibrating through your chest and bubbling out of you in uncontrollable waves as you read your friends’ ridiculous–yet accurate–texts. Eventually, Joe noticed your behavior as it was pretty hard to ignore. “What’s so funny?” he asked as he set his smoothie down, then slowly approached you.

“Nothing!” you chirped, holding your phone to your chest to hide the incriminating messages.

“Oh, it’s something,” he replied, his hands landing on either side of you on the counter to cage you in. He leaned in close, his hot breath hitting your lips as he mumbled, “Come on, angel. Spill,”.

You were still giggling at the situation, practically loopy from all the laughing and teasing, which prompted you to give in. “Fine, I may have told my friends that you’d look hot holding a baby…and that you give off sexy future dad vibes. There also may or may not be a photo of you involved,”.

Joe froze for a second, then leaned back and blinked at you in disbelief. “You sent that…to your friends?”.

“Hey! They agreed with me,” you defended, holding up your phone to show him the texts.

He scrolled through the text thread, his ears getting redder and redder with each tease from your friends. Once he reached the end, his jaw was on the floor and it almost looked as if he was fighting a smile. “Seriously?”.

“What?” you grinned unapologetically. “It’s true!”.

He let out a bashful whine, sliding a hand down his face though the playful twinkle in his eyes showed you he was enjoying this. “You objectified me to your friends,”.

You laughed, “Sorry if you feel objectified,” while sliding your hands to his chest. “But I mean…come on. Look at you,” you added with a kiss to his jaw. “It’s the truth, Joey. Can’t help myself. Hormones are high,”.

He let out a throaty laugh, shaking his head, “Hormones, huh?” his hands slipping to your waist as your legs opened to accommodate his large body. “You know…I could do something about that,”.

Your breath hitched as you felt his crotch against yours, another rush of heat radiating through your body, “Could you now?” you challenged as your fingers played with his shirt.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his lips brushing your ear before he dropped a soft kiss to the corner. “But first,” he said, suddenly pulling away and raising his hand with a goofy smile. “Your friends high-fived you for this…Where the hell is mine? I think I deserve to be recognized for locking down the sexy, breathtakingly gorgeous, angelic woman in front of me,”.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you looked at him with that look again–the dreamy one that spoke a thousand words. “I love you,” you breathed out without realizing it because you were so caught up in his ocean-blue eyes to the point where it felt like everything around you had faded away.

He chuckled, “I love you a lot more,” while earning a high five from you.

“There. Happy now?” you said while batting your lashes at him.

“Mmm. Not yet,” he replied, his grin turning devilish as he quickly hooked his strong arm around your waist and lifted you off the counter, then spinning you around until your back pressed against the cool surface of the island. “But I’ve got some ideas on how to fix that,” he mumbled, his voice laced with heat.

“Joe,” you breathlessly whispered, feeling the cool countertop against your back but all you could focus on was his tight grip on your waist, the warmth of his body, and the heated look in his eyes.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Me?” you teased breathlessly, your fingers curling into his shirt to pull him back in. “You’re the one that has his hormonal wife sprawled out on the kitchen counter right now. Who knows what you’re about to do,”.

Joe chuckled, his lips grazing your jawline as he kissed his way down to your neck. “You started it, babe,” he muttered against you, his teeth nipping the soft skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. “And now I’m gonna finish it,”. His hands slid down to your thighs, each squeeze and scratch drawing a gasp from your lips, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he settled between them. His lips found yours again, this time more ravenous, more demanding, as his hands roamed over your body.

“Joe,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your throat and over the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his hands sliding beneath your shirt to grip your hips again, his thumbs pressing into your skin.

“You,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your hips arching toward him as heat pooled in your belly. “I want you,”.

That was all the encouragement he needed. In a blur of movement, your clothes were tossed, his shirt quickly joining the pile on the floor. The cool air hit your skin, but Joe’s heated gaze and the way his hands stroked your body made you forget everything else. He trailed kisses down your stomach, his lips lingering for a moment as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider. His mouth met yours again as he positioned himself, the thick tip of his cock brushing against your slick folds, drawing a whimper from your lips. “Joey, please,”.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice laced with desire as he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

A gasp escaped you, your hands clutching his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts deep and calculated. The cool surface of the island under you countered deliciously with the heat of his body as he set a tempo that had you melting beneath him.“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he picked up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the kitchen. “You feel so good,”.

“Joe,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he hit just the right spot, over and over, pulling a string of frantic moans from your lips. “Oh. My. God,”.

His hands moved to your hips again, holding you firmly in place as he pounded into you, his pace showing no sign of mercy. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through your tired body, building higher and higher until you felt like you might shatter. “So tight,” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear as he pushed himself deeper. “So fucking perfect for me,”.

Normally you’d be fully against doing this in the kitchen, especially this bright and early in the morning. But you weren’t lying when you said that the hormones were high. He looked like an absolute god and you just wanted him to take you to heaven right then and there. He made you so insatiable, losing all forms of decency and innocence.

And you fucking loved it.

He moaned again, his hips snapping harder and harder into your soaking core, “I’m so…so close,” he breathed out, his voice strained from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. His hand slipped between your sweaty bodies, his fingers finding your clit as he circled the bundle of nerves with practiced ease.

“Fuck, Joe. Oh…fuck!” you screamed, the pleasure hitting you like a tidal wave as your body arched into his. Your walls clenched his thick cock, causing a guttural moan from his lips as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back for support.

The sight of you reaching your high under him, the way your body shook, and the sound of his name on your lips, was all it took to send him over the edge after you.

“On me, Joey,” you whispered, your voice laced with need. “I want to see it, on me. Mark your territory,”.

The raw need in your voice sent a jolt of electricity through him, his jaw clenching as he groaned deeply. “Fuck..you drive me crazy,” he muttered, pulling out at the last second, his hand wrapping around himself, his motions desperate and fast.

And with a final moan, he gave in, his release spilling out in thick, hot streams across your soft belly, painting your skin and claiming you as you asked. “Oh…,” you moaned at the sight of his pearly cum spilled out on your belly. The slickness against your skin made you hiss, and the sight of it pushed you into a whole other world.

His body trembled with the force of his release, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he caught his breath. "Holy shit, babe. I can't get enough of you," he panted as you slowly rubbed his back to help him down from his high.

"Me too, Joey," you lazily chuckled, panting as you stared up at the ceiling, basking in the afterglow of what felt like being brought to the gates of heaven.

For a few minutes, the room was filled with the sounds of labored breaths, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and satisfaction. Joe used his other hand to reach for a towel nearby as his breathing steadied out, and then he carefully cleaned you up.

His touch was so soft and gentle, each wipe of the towel over your skin was filled with care and attention, and it made your heart explode. Watching him like this, so attentive and loving even after the dirtiest moments, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of satisfaction.

You really deserved to be high-fived for locking him down.

“Future dad vibes,” you teased under your breath.

“Hm?” he hummed, brows furrowed as he glanced up at you.

“Ohhh, nothing,” you sang, grinning mischievously.

His eyes narrowed in suspicious, placing the towel to the side and leaning over you again. His eyes pinned you with a soft, curious look. “You’ve got that look in your eyes again,” he said. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”.

“Just the usual thoughts,” you smiled, “Like how lucky I am to have you,”.

His face softened, his hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, “I’m the lucky one, mama,” he said, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was intoxicating.

Mama?

“Oh my god? Is he catching on?” you thought to yourself as you smiled into the kiss. You quickly pulled away, “Did you just…call me mama?” you asked, trying to keep your cool as you stared into his captivating eyes.

Joe leaned back, a little sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “Uhhh…maybe?” he said, his voice a little casual but also a little…nervous? “I don’t know…it just felt right,”.

It’s a sign. A sign from the universe.

He had to be catching on…right?

You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned up to him. “Well, it’s cute,”.

“Cute, huh?” he murmured, pulling you closer. “You like it, mama. I can tell,”.

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname again. The thought of how close you were to that becoming a reality filled your body with the most extraordinary feeling. “...Maybe,” you responded with that dreamy look in your eyes again.

A week later - Friday Night

The two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by takeout containers and half-empty bottles of sparkling water. Today was a rest day for Joe as he was playing Monday Night Football this week, so you decided to take it easy and have a little date night at home. Back in college, a lot of your date nights looked like this because you both preferred comfort over glitz and glamor. You just needed each other, some good takeout, and an entertaining movie, and you were set.

You two did simplicity better than any other couple. For you, the extravagant dates and expensive gifts didn’t matter nearly as much as the way Joe made you laugh with his dry humor, how he’d shower you with kisses after a long day, and just those little moments your hopelessly romantic heart craved.

The way he looked at you right now, all cozy on the floor, served as a reminder of how lucky you were to have built a life where you could just be.

Joe had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you both were settled on the plush rug, laughing over another silly rom-com you’d picked out. The soft hum of the TV was barely audible over the few crunches of takeout and the shared laughter between you two. He had one hand lazily reaching for another spring roll, while the other gently ran up and down your arm, his thumb brushing your skin in slow strokes. “I don’t know why we ever do anything else,” Joe murmured with a lazy smile, taking another bite of his food before glancing at you. His eyes were warm like he’d never want to be anywhere else in the world but here, with you. “This is perfect”.

You grinned, stretching out next to him and letting your fingers trace the outline of his chest through his soft, Bengals t-shirt. “I don’t know either,” you teased, your voice light and playful. “I could definitely get used to this for, like, forever,”.

Joe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he caught your gaze. “Forever, huh?” He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as his lips brushed softly over your temple. “You sayin’ you’d be okay with being stuck with me for the rest of your life?”.

You giggled, the sound soft and genuine, as you pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I mean, you did already put the ring on my finger and say your vows at the altar….but yeah,” you smiled. “Just you, me, some food, and our couch... maybe some babies one day,”.

Here we go. Final hint. This has to work.

You had been dropping hints almost every day for the past week and a half, there was no way he was that oblivious, right? As each day passed, you got more and more restless. You just wanted him to get what you were implying and make it happen. It was that simple.

You wanted him to make you Juno.

It may have just been a cute little song you had been obsessed with lately, but Sabrina really spoke to your heart with every lyric. The way the song casually danced around love, intimacy, infatuation, and that perfect type of connection–it made you think about your own future, what it could be, and how, deep down, you felt ready. You were already so in love with Joe, and that love was only growing stronger. The thought of starting a family, of being his partner in something even more beautiful, was controlling all your thoughts.

Joe’s hand paused on your arm for a second, and you could feel the shift in his energy. His gaze, once playful, turned thoughtful as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “You’ve been talking about that a lot lately,” he murmured, a hint of something deeper in his voice. “Having babies?”.

“Oh my god,” you thought, your heart racing in your chest. This was it. He was finally catching on.

You bit your lip, feeling nervous but trying to keep your cool. “Maybe,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. Your voice suddenly became more stable as you continued, “I think about it a lot. About us...and a future,” you paused, watching his reaction. “You, me, and…a little one,”.

His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb grazing your cheek in that comforting way he always did when he was about to say something important. “I think about it too,” he said, his voice low and steady, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. “I think I’ve always wanted that. Wanted to be a father. With you,”.

“Oh my GOD,” the voice in your head was screaming with excitement.

He wanted it too.

You blinked in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at the honesty in his voice. He continued, his eyes locking with yours, the gravity there too clear to ignore. “I watch the way you are with kids. The way your vibrant laugh fills up the room when you’re spinning my niece around at a family gathering. The way your whole face lights up when a baby looks at you and waves,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I see how natural you are, how much love you give to them, and it just...makes me want that. I want to give that to you, to build that with you,”.

A warm flush crept across your cheeks, but your heart swelled with tenderness. He wasn’t just saying these words–he was feeling them, and it made everything feel even more real.

He sighed softly, his gaze softening as he spoke again, his voice heavy with something deeper now. “I’ve always wanted this, but I didn’t want to pressure you. I didn’t want you to feel like I was rushing you into something before you were ready. But I see the way you look at them, and I can’t ignore it. It’s like…everything inside me knows that you’re the one. The woman of my dreams. My wife, obviously, since I married you,” he said with a laugh, earning one from you too. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never wanted anything more than to be a father with you by my side,”.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, and you were overwhelmed by the love and sincerity in his voice. He wanted this with you, too. He didn’t just want to create a family with anyone; he wanted to create it with you. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “Joe,” you whispered, “I want it, too. More than anything,”.

“Yeah, I know,” he laughed. “Your hints were definitely hinting,” he said with a kiss to your cheek.

You chuckled softly, wiping away the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks. Joe’s easy laugh made you feel safe, loved, and seen in a way that only he could. The weight of the moment was still heavy, but now it felt full of hope, not pressure.

“You caught on, huh?” you teased, your voice still a little shaky with emotion.

“How could I not? I think what did it was that night when you sang Juno and pointed right at me, you had that dreamy look in your eyes,”.

You beamed with excitement, “Imagine a mini version of you running around–blonde curls, big blue eyes, tiny cleats. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t be adorable,”.

Joe paused, “A mini version of me?”.

You nodded enthusiastically. “One of you is cute, but two, though? Give it to me babyyyy. Game over. The world wouldn’t be ready for a mini Joey B. I honestly think I’d give birth to your twin,”.

Joe chuckled, leaning his head back against the couch with a smirk. “You’ve really thought this through, huh? Even the fact that we’ll have a boy first?”.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning closer, your hand resting on his thigh again. “I mean, you’d be the fun, cool dad, teaching him how to throw a perfect spiral. All his friends would be so jealous because his daddy and coach is THE Joe Burrow. And me? I’d be the mom who packs the best snacks for football practice and wins everyone over with my charm. Total dream team,”.

Joe let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”.

“And you love it,” you shot back, tipping your head with a grin.

He reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I do,” he said simply, his voice dropping into that low, serious tone that always sent shivers down your spine. “And you know what?”

“What?” you asked, your heart suddenly thumping as he leaned closer.

“I think you might be onto something,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. “Two of me? Could be kind of fun,”.

Your breath hitched, your hands moving to his shoulders as his lips captured yours in a kiss that made your whole body feel lightweight. He deepened the kiss, pulling you onto his lap effortlessly, his hands settling on your waist. As you broke apart for air, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes glistening with a mix of naughtiness and love. “But you know,” he added, his voice teasing now, “Two of you wouldn’t be so bad either. Imagine how bossy and adorable that kid would be,”.

You gasped in mock offense, smacking his chest. “Excuse me! I’m not bossy–I’m assertive. I always get everything done just the way I want, and that, my gorgeous lover, is a talent everyone wants to have,”.

Joe laughed, pulling you closer. “Sure, babe. Whatever you say,” he dragged out. "But if we’re really doing this…like really doing this right now. I guess we better get started,”.

Your cheeks blushed as his hands tightened on your waist, his lips trailing down your neck. “Oh, you’re serious now?” you teased, though your voice lingered with excitement.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression soft but full of determination. “Completely fucking serious,” he said. “You ready for two of us?”.

Your answer came without hesitation, your lips finding his again as you whispered, “More than ready,”.

—

The house was still, the air filled with the quiet buzz of the night, interrupted only by the sound of Joe’s breathing and the soft creak of the floorboards beneath him. He carried you through the house as if you were weightless, his arms wrapped around you like a cocoon, your body snuggled against his warmth. He moved slowly, taking his time to bring you to the bedroom as if he was savoring every second, every beat of your hearts in sync.

When he placed you onto the bed, it felt like the world had slowed, almost stopped. He hovered above you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his gaze heavy with desire but also a tenderness that took your breath away. His lips pressed against your skin, soft at first, leaving a trail of warmth across your collarbone as he kissed his way down your neck. Each touch, each press of his lips, felt like a slow fire building inside you, the heat of his mouth sending shivers spiraling through your body.

His hands traced over your skin, following the curve of your waist before settling on your hips, pulling you closer. Everything felt like a blur and before you knew it, you both were completely bare, physically and emotionally.

His voice, was deep and soft, as he spoke against your skin. "You know, baby, if we're really going for two of me…," His words were teasing, but there was a sweetness in them, an undeniable affection. "We're going to need to take this slow. I want to feel every inch of you,".

You shivered at his words, the sensation of his breath against your neck leaving you with a rush of desire. Your fingers slid up his back, feeling the tight muscles under his skin, every inch of him hard and firm as he braced himself above you. "You think I can’t keep up?" you teased softly, your voice a little breathless from the intensity of his touch.

Joe’s lips curved into a smirk as he pulled back to look into your eyes. His blue eyes darkened as he gazed at you with such intensity it made your heart race. “Oh, I know you can,” he whispered, voice thick with desire. “But I’m not in a rush. We’re going to take our time. I want to make sure you feel everything,”.

He lowered his body again, pressing his chest against yours, his lips finding yours in a slow, soft kiss that deepened as he slowly sank into you. Every movement, every brush of his lips was purposeful, as if he was trying to tell you everything he felt with each touch, each kiss. His body moved over yours like water, slowly and fluidly as his hands slid to your hips, fingertips digging in, pulling you closer as his lips trailed down to your neck, biting softly. “You’re perfect,” he whispered against your ear. “So perfect, baby. I’m going to give you everything,”.

Joe’s hand slid between your bodies, pulling you closer as his lips found a sensitive spot on your neck. “I want to hear you, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of desire. “Tell me how much you want me,”.

You let out a soft moan as his fingers teased you with slow, deliberate strokes. Your body arched into his touch, desperate for more, your nails lightly dragging down his back. “I want you,” you breathed, your voice shaky, filled with need. “I want all of you, Joe. Please,”.

He groaned in response, pressing his body closer to yours as his lips captured yours in a deep, passionate kiss. His movements grew more urgent, his hips rocking against yours, each thrust deeper and slower, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you was overwhelming, but all you wanted was more, to feel him even closer. “God, you feel so good,” Joe whispered between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect. I’m going to take care of you, baby. Make you feel so good,”.

His rhythm was steady and deep at first, savoring every moment, each thrust building slowly as his muscles flexed with every movement. The heat between you two was growing, his breath becoming heavier as he pressed you closer, meeting your body with more urgency. “You’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you to meet his every thrust. “I can’t get enough of you. You feel incredible, baby.”

His cock grazed over your sweet spot, each push and pull causing gasps to leave your lips. “Oh, Joe…fuck…fuck me,” you moaned.

Each movement sent waves of pleasure through your body, your hands tracing his back, feeling every muscle ripple with each thrust. His pace picked up, but he kept the rhythm slow, savoring the moment, his eyes dark with desire but soft with affection. “You’re going to be so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of awe as he kissed you again. “I can’t wait to see you carrying my baby. I’ll give you everything, Y/N. Everything,”.

His words sent a rush of heat through you, your body trembling with the intensity. “Joe…I-...you feel so good. I love you, I love you so much,” you whimpered, your brain clouded with lust and love for the man above you. He shifted his position, his hands pushing your legs further apart as he deepened each thrust, his rhythm slow but powerful, pushing you to the edge with every motion. “You feel amazing…fuck- I love you,” he panted, his voice strained.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you whined, feeling his large hand on your belly.

“I know, baby. I know,” he groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder as he continued to pound into your slick core. With each movement, he drove deeper, his body moving in sync with yours, filling you completely. His hands traced every curve of your body, his lips whispering more praise, more sweet words. “You’re so perfect. So perfect for me, baby. Tell me you’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low with hunger. “Tell me you want this,”.

“Yes,” you gasped, your body shaking beneath him, the pressure building inside you. “Yes, I’m yours. All yours, Joe,”.

His pace grew faster, more urgent, his body shaking with the effort to hold back as he neared his high. “Take it all, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with emotion. “Take all of me,”.

With one final deep thrust, he jerked, his body trembling as he buried himself deep inside you. The thick band in your stomach snapped at the same time as his hot seed spurted into your core, coating your walls. His grip on your hips tightened as he whispered your name, his voice full of love, desire, and a promise that lingered in the air between you two.

—

A little while later

“You think we did it?” you asked, your voice soft, yet a playful interest lingered in your tone.

Joe chuckled lowly, his chest vibrating against your cheek as you lay in his arms. The sound was like a secret melody that only you two shared. He let his fingers glide through your hair, the gentle touch sending a calm warmth through your body. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he replied, his voice low, teasing, yet laced with affection. “But just in case… I wouldn’t mind practicing a few more times…you know…for the sake of our little team,”.

You laughed softly, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, full of joy and love. You shifted your head up slightly to look at him, catching the look in his eyes. “Oh, so now you’re eager for two of you?” you teased, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Joe tilted his head, his grin growing wider, and you saw the admiration flicker in his eyes. It made your heart skip a beat. “If they’re anything like you, how could I not be?” his voice was sincere, his words filled with warmth and something deeper, a promise that made your pulse quicken just a little.

The simple, genuine way he looked at you sent a wave of love rushing over you, and before you even realized it, your fingers were threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you leaned in for a kiss. The kiss was soft, lingering, as if you both were savoring the sweetness of this moment, the quiet intimacy between you. “Good answer, Burrow,” you murmured against his lips, your heart gushing with affection. “Let’s see if you can keep up this energy, though,”.

His grin widened, and there was a glimmer of playful challenge in his eyes as he shifted, his strong hands finding their place on your waist. Without warning, he flipped you onto your back, the sudden shift leaving you breathless, a shock of ecstasy rushing through you. His lips found yours again in an instant, the kiss more passionate, more demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel his heat, his body pressing against yours, and it sent a wave of excitement rushing through you, making everything else fade away. “Oh, don’t worry, babe,” Joe whispered between kisses, “I’ve got plenty left in the tank.”

The way he said it, the promise in his voice, made your heart race again. Everything around you faded as the moment pulled between you–soft and full of meaning. His hands slid down your body, finding your hips, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to leave. The warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, and the way you fit together perfectly made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

As he held you, the thought of what could come next–the idea of him being the father of your children–filled you with quiet excitement. This wasn’t just a brief moment. This was the beginning of something real, something you couldn’t wait to experience with him. The thought of carrying his child, of building a life together, made everything feel even more intimate, even more meaningful. You both knew this was only the start of what was to come, and that thought alone made everything feel even more precious.

And he wanted it just as bad as you.

5 Months Later

Five months later, you and Joe found yourselves navigating the world of baby shopping–something you’d never quite imagined would be this overwhelming, but here you were, standing in the middle of a store that seemed to have every possible baby item under the sun. The shelves were stacked with tiny clothes, soft toys, cribs, diapers, bottles, pacifiers, and honestly, you were starting to lose track. Your baby bump was prominent now, a constant reminder that your life was about to get a whole lot more chaotic–and you couldn’t wait.

Joe, of course, was hilariously lost in the sea of options. He stood in front of a shelf of baby pacifiers, holding up two identical ones, squinting at them as if they were the most complicated decision of his life. “Babe, I swear…they look exactly the same. Why are there so many of these?” Joe muttered, a confused frown crossing his face. “What’s the difference between a giraffe pacifier and a…regular one? Are these for actual babies or are they just toys?”.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight of him, standing there like a man on the brink of a breakdown. “Joey, they’re just pacifiers, it’s not that deep,”. You moved over and picked up the giraffe one he was holding, smiling as you handed it to him. “This one has a cute giraffe on it. Baby Burrow is going to love it,”.

He made a dramatic face, clearly trying to comprehend how pacifiers were even a thing in the first place. “Okay, but like…why so many giraffes? Can’t we just stick with one? There are a hundred versions of the same thing in here,”.

You laughed and stepped closer to him, your hand resting on your growing belly. “Welcome to parenthood, babe. The options never end,”.

Joe stared at the shelves again, now starting to feel like he might have made a huge mistake agreeing to this shopping trip. “This is… way harder than any game-winning play,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he scanned the baby aisles. “I don’t even know where to start. Look at all this stuff. Baby clothes, diapers, wipes–combo wipes–isn’t one pack enough?”.

“I can’t believe you’re comparing diapers to football plays,” you teased, giving him a playful eye roll. “But I’m starting to see it now..you’re overwhelmed. I knew this was going to happen,”.

He finally turned to you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “So, this is what you meant by making you Juno, huh?” his voice had a light, teasing edge, and you could see the twinkle in his eye as he tried to make sense of the madness.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him for a second. A slow smile spread across your face as you realized that, yes, this was your life now–the pregnancy, the baby stuff, the chaos–and it felt absolutely right. You walked over to him, shaking your head with a smile. “Exactly. You loved me right and I let you make me Juno. Congratulations,”.

Joe’s grin only grew wider as he took a step closer to you, his arms slipping around your waist and his hand resting on your bump. “Well, if I’m the cause of this, I guess that makes me the one who has to do all the heavy lifting when it comes to baby gear, huh?” he wiggled his eyebrows, trying to hide his playfulness behind mock seriousness.

“Oh, you better believe it,” you said, holding your belly with one hand while you wrapped the other around his neck. “That means carrying all the baby stuff from the car to the house. You ready for that, Burrow?”.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice suddenly taking on an overly confident tone, even though you could see his inner panic behind his eyes. “I’ll carry everything, no problem. I’m ready to be a dad,”.

You raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see how ready you are when the baby actually gets here,”.

Just as you said that, Joe leaned down to kiss you softly, a kiss that was sweet, slow, and full of promise. He pulled away after a moment, his lips twirling into a grin. “I’ll be ready, babe. You know why?” He paused for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying this moment. “Because I’m gonna be the best damn dad there ever was and I have the best damn mom by my side,”.

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. You rested your head against his chest for a moment, the soft buzz of the slightly busy store around you fading. “You’re already the best, Joe,”.

He hugged you tighter, his hand gently brushing over your bump, and then he looked at you with a soft smile. “You’re the best too, babe. And this whole baby thing? I think we’ve got this, I’m serious,”.

The two of you stood there for a moment, surrounded by aisles of tiny socks and stuffed animals, but it didn’t matter. At this moment, nothing else was more important than the two of you and the new life you were about to bring into the world. The future felt as bright as Joe’s smile, and there was no one else you’d rather do this with.

As you both walked toward the checkout with your cart full of baby things, Joe glanced down at you with that same, goofy grin that made your heart skip a beat. “Okay, maybe one more pacifier…just in case,”.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re already thinking ahead, huh? I guess we should just buy the whole store,”.

“Well,” Joe said, pulling you close as you reached the register, “We might as well start preparing for the chaos. But hey, at least we’re in this together,”.

“Always, Joe,” you said, smiling as you leaned in for another kiss. “There’s nobody else I’d rather be with right now. Nobody else I’d rather have make me juno,”.

–The End–

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #juno #sabrina carpenter #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #Spotify

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xetlynn · 3 months ago

Text

Arcane Imagines- Vander

It’s Quiet

⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUTTTT IF THERE WAS EVER SMUT

[arcane] [main page] [pt. 2]

Prompt: it’s grown so quiet since the kids have grown… (not requested, did this at my own free will. Also happy universe WITH VI because I can do that.)

Containing: thigh riding, multiple orgasms, fem!receiving oral, male!receiving oral, hike position, voyeurism, exhibitionism, praise, slight degradation.

“And that’s the last drunk of the evening.” You wipe your hands together after slamming down your rag on one of the tables you had just finished cleaning, going over to the door to turn the open sign to closed. Vander chuckles, cheering as he washes the last few glasses. You go behind the counter to join him in wiping everything down since it gets pretty sticky especially behind the bar.

“Gosh it’s been so busy these last few days.” You huff, putting your body into the scrubbing. Feeling all the sweat that drenched your back, neck and face. You felt disgusting to say the least. “Mm yeah but think about that early retirement.” He jokes causing you to laugh in response. “So true!” You perk up, glancing behind you, his eyes already locking with yours.

He places his glass down and scrummages over to you. His hands snaked around your waist. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses the back of your head. You would normally lean into his touch but the sweat that enveloped all over you. You swiftly move away from him by turning around and taking his arms off of you. “I feel gross, babe.” You shake your head at his intentions.

“How come? You look ravishing.” His eyes darken along with his voice that laced with lust. “I’m so sweaty.” You whine, walking out from the bar to sit on one of the stools. “I feel like I just got dragged through mud.” You muster out, finally getting to sit down for the first time in 12 hours that day.

“You’d still be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on covered in dirt head to toe.” He leans over the bar as you scoff, rolling your eyes at his cheesy choice of words. “It’s the truth.” He puts his hands up in defense. You sigh. “I would like a shower first.” You mumble.

He observes you as your eyes wander around the building seeing if there was anything else for you to do before the both of you chose to go home. “It’s so quiet in here.” You suddenly mention the lack of noise. “Well it’s just the two of us in here.” He shrugs his shoulders. You give him a dirty look. “I mean the fact that there’s no little Powder running around here with Ekko. No Mylo antagonizing his siblings. Claggor just being along for the ride. Violet attempting to show Mylo how to flirt.” You explain with sadness traced in your tone of voice.

“Hmph,” He snorted out a laugh remembering the children as young teenagers. “They were something.” He shakes his head. “I miss them living with us.” You pout, he groans at your words knowing what is going to be next. The both of you took the children in young. Felicia has Vi and Powder quite young. Being only 18 with little Violet and 23 with Powder.

Vander’s the same age as Felicia as you were two years younger than the both of them. You didn’t meet them until after Violet was two years old. Now Vi is 23 and Powder is 18. You are now 39 and Vander is 41.

“I’m just saying! I don’t have much time!” You exclaim, grasping at his hand, practically begging for a child. “Zaun is good, better than it ever has been. Let’s dooo ittttt.” You bounce your legs for extra effect in pleads. “Love, you’ve never wanted children of your own. Why now?” He raises his brows, now fully enclasping your hand with both of his.

Your stomach flutters at the size difference between the both of you. You could never get over it, not even with the nearly 20 years of being with one another. “I just,” you frown before continuing. “With the children being older and like I mentioned it being quiet… I want someone to depend on me again. Those sweet little eyes as they ask me to help them.” Your face grows sour, tears stinging at the brim of your eyes. “This could be my last chance to have that. And you’ve never wondered what our baby would look like?” You ask him with puppy-dog eyes. “I miss the old times. Not just with the kids.” You mutter.

“Of course I have, but if that’s how you feel, love… I’m sorry to tell you but I just can’t give you that. A baby with the way we work. And if you need someone to depend on you, I’ll be that for you. I’ll ask for more help, meaning like little things at home that I know you miss doing.” He massages your hand, kissing at it a few times. You purse out your lips, knowing he was right.

“Are you okay?” He tilts his head, a few strands of hair falling in his face. You nod your head, not verbally responding though. He lets go of your hand and joins you on the stools. “I’m sorry you’re upset, my love. I never want to see your lips fall downwards.” He pulls you onto his lap and you look into his eyes.

“I’ll be okay, I guess I’ll just have to be patient until we are blessed with grandchildren.” Your head falls against his chest, wrapping your arms around his large torso. “Hopefully that’s not anytime soon.” Vander smacks your thigh and you snicker.

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, you always loved how protective he was over your guys’ family. You feel your arousal thicken in your gut. Feeling needier.

You have to remind yourself that you need to take a shower first. That’s what you told yourself. Even though your husband definitely does not care about you being sweaty. You care.

“We could always… pretend like I’m going to give you children.” He whispers in your ear, your body tensing up. It’s like he felt your pussy flutter for him even though you both wore thick clothing and it wasn’t possible. “Mmm, that’s an idea.” You watch his thick, large hand sliding up and down the outside of your thigh. “Gonna let me do it right here, right now? Just like the old days?” He questions, he was breathing heavily down your neck causing the hairs there to stand up at the feeling.

“Remember how we’d pretend there were people still. Go behind that counter and I’d fuck you from behind as you ‘took someone’s order.’ huh?” He knows all the right buttons to push when it comes to you. He knew what you couldn’t resist. He knew how to get you riled up like no one else.

Your face was flushed as he reminded you of those moments you had before you even took the children in. That was such a long time ago you were surprised he remembered. “How ‘bout we try that out again?” He nibbles at the tip of your ear causing you to whine.

“Van- shower first. I told you.” You rub yourself against him, spite of what you were saying. “You were just saying how you miss old times… Let me help you relive a few things.” His fingers now dipping in between your legs. The seam of the jeans you wore were sitting in the right place too. It was too much.

“Please~” You moan, gripping onto his forearm that held your form. “Please what?” He asks.

“I-I need you.” You moved yourself so you were now sitting on one of his thighs. Looking right into his grey orbs. “What about that shower though?” He teases you, watching you ride against him. Only to pleasure yourself. How selfish. “Fuck the shower.” You grab him by the back of his neck, forcing him into a deep kiss.

He laughs into the kiss, amused by how turned on you got just by his words. He knew you too well.

You go to stop your hips so you could get up but he stops you. “Uh-uh, ride my leg until you cum, love.” He holds your hips down. You give him a pout. “Do it or I'll have the night end right here and we can just go to that shower and right to bed.” It was an empty threat. You knew that but listened to him nonetheless. Your pelvis planting down on him. You roll back and forth on him.

“Fuck, love. You’re so gorgeous.” He coos, getting your hair out of your face. You pant as you focus on reaching your high, hearing his words only drenching your already soaked cunt. Going right through those jeans of yours and onto his black slacks.

Your hands were grabbing onto the top of his thigh, close to his cock that twitched as it was trapped underneath his now tight pants. Just begging to be free. “I- hah!” You grunted, squeezing your thighs against his. “What is it? What do you have to say?” He inquires with a hint of mocking you.

“Mmngg, I want to kiss you!” You breathe out, eyes squeezed shut due to how determined you were to release on your husband's enormous muscled thigh.

“What’s the magic word?” His hand goes to your neck, pressing lightly. “Mean, ‘s mean,” you whimper. “Not the answer.” He tsks, bouncing his knee a little bit to throw you off. You cry out, hands flailing to his shirt. Clutching it tightly in between your fingers.

“Please let me kiss you, please! I just want to kiss my husband.” You sob, opening your eyes for him to see how much you needed it. He thinks for a moment but decides to give you what you want.

The hold on your neck only gets tighter as his lips embrace yours. He bites at your lip producing a gasp out of you so he can roughly stick his tongue in your mouth. His tongue battling against yours. You didn’t even try as he had already invaded your muzzle, exploring it like it was his home.

As you feel yourself get closer you weigh down further onto him, your hips at a lively, unyielding pace. You pull away as your attention needs to go back to your own core. His hand on your throat now gripping, helping you even more. The tension in your chest and head growing. “Fuck.” It was almost inaudible exiting past your lips.

“Mhm, you can do it. My wife is so persistent. Such a hell-bent little thing.” He purrs in your ear. “Hah! Mmm.” You groan out, holding his wrist that clutched at your pretty open neck.

And then that explosion of fireworks in your tummy at last comes. Your hole creaming, joining your arousal juices. Only wetting yours and your husbands pants

His hand breaks free from your airway, allowing you to breathe once more. You pant heavily against him. “Shit.” Your legs shake underneath you. “You have fun there?” He pokes at you, you glare up at him. “Shut up.” You spit, weakly standing up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Vander raises a brow, grabbing your waist, stopping you from crouching down. “I-I’m going to give you a blow job?” You said in more of a inquisitive tone, confused on how it’s not obvious. “I never said I was done with you.” He stands up from the stool, lifting you up with ease. You yelp from the sudden move.

He places you on the counter. “I’d like dinner first.” Even being on a tall bar counter he was still wavering over you. “Where people drink?!” You utter out, reminding him what people do on this very countertop. “I’ll clean it up. No one will ever know.” He rolls his eyes.

Before you could even argue with him his hands are back on you. You subconsciously lift your hips up helping him undress you. “Never get over the sight of this cute girl.” He compliments your pussy. Your thighs squish together, hiding yourself only to be pried back open.

Your hands were behind you to keep yourself fully propped up. “This position isn’t really comfortable, Vannie.” You mewl, the top of your tailbone was slightly hurting. “I’ll have to make this fast then won’t I?” He asks, not even looking up at your face as he sits back down. Sliding your butt as close to the edge of the counter as possible.

He adjusted the chair so he was at face level with that pretty little pussy.

His face diving in but not doing anything so he can take in your scent. Feeling like a feral animal. You would’ve been embarrassed by this if he hadn’t done it almost every day for the past 20 years. You rest your legs over his shoulders, ankles crossed over one another, trapping his head at your core.

“Stop teasing, Vander.” You sternly tell him, glaring down at him since he decided he was going to take his time. His dilated pupils lift upwards, mouth hovering over your clit. “Is that any way to talk to your dear partner who only wants to take care of you?” He asks, his facial hair tickling you down there.

You lay your back down on the cold wood. Ignoring him.

He snickers, now kitten licking at your clit. Toying with it until he hears the squelch after a few more. His tongue swirls around the nub, kissing it every now and then. His strategy was purely for his own enjoyment. Your moans filled the building, echoing and bouncing off the walls.

“Imagine we didn’t lock the door.” He comments. “Imagine someone walks in thinking we’re open. And you’re getting eaten out right in front of them.” His mouth reattaching to your cunny.

Ambushing every nerve with pleasure.

“Fuck! I ho-pe someone doesss!” Your hands go down to his hair, pulling out the bun. “Yeah, you’d like the attention.” He mumbles into you, the vibration shooting through you.

“Mhm… mhm!” Your chest jolts upwards as his tongue swipes over your sensitive spot. “I n-need your fiiingers!” You wail, playing with his hair so you have something to pull on. Not having anything else around you.

Your head was upside down off the other side of the counter. “Need ‘em where, love?” He irritatingly asks you. “I-inside! Inside!’ You squeal out, toes scrunching and your calves stretching out at the same time.

His right hand joins his mouth, entering a single digit into that drenching, achy hole.

His cock screaming to be let free now. His pre-cum drooling onto his boxers.

You clench around the single but large finger. He enters another before pumping them in and out. Curling every so often to hit that perfect spot inside. Your moans and whines keeping him going. His jaw was certainly going to be locked after this.

He says random compliments you can’t even understand against your pussy. You didn’t even care enough to hear anyways. Feeling his mouth along with his fingers abusing you.

“I- how? Fuck!” You scratch as his scalp, bringing one of your hands to your shirt, ripping the buttons off to open it. You had a few others.

You own hand kneads at your breasts. “C’mon, make me cum, make me cum!” You pant, chest heaving rapidly. “Almost there?” He watches you grope yourself. He leers gleefully. “Fuck yes!” You nod your head only to let it fall back down off the counter.

His fingers fucking your skillfully, your cunt splashing liquid on him along with the floor.

“Close ‘s close!” You grit through your teeth, rolling your hips on his face, bringing him closer to you with the back of your calf. Shoving his head onto you.

“O-ooohh… mmmm….” It hits you softer than the first time surprisingly, but your cunny still spurts into Vander’s mouth. Your thighs shake against his head, your feet dropping tiredly. “That was so good, love. So proud of you.” He kisses your soft skin, lifting your thighs off of him letting your legs fall on either side of him.

You breathe heavily, now feeling all the blood that rushed to your head from it being upside down. You sit yourself up, using your husband's shoulders to keep you from slipping forward. He undoes his belt, unbuttoning his pants to take his cock out. Still keeping his clothes up though.

“C’mere.” He huffs out a laugh, standing up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His hands are squeezing at the plush skin of your ass.

He takes you to the inside of the bar, his cockhead poked at your entrance with each step. “Tired girl?” He hums out a question. You shake your head, disagreeing. “No, want more.” You rasp out. Humping your hips downwards against his dick.

“Need you to help me first, prove how much you want me to fuck you.” He ambushes your neck with his licked lips. “I’ll do anything.” You whisper.

“Good, here comes the guy who brings our stock.” Vander smirks, your eyes widen and you drop to the ground, hiding under the counter even though he already couldn’t see you by being down there. Vander steps as close as possible to you, his chest against the wood.

His cock was free game to you. “Heyy Mick!” Vander cheerfully grins, not feeling you touch him just yet. He also knew that your pants and little panties were laid out on the ground, available for Mick to see.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mick comes into the bar with a dollie of alcohol boxes. “Where’s the wife?” He asks, coming over to the counter. “Oh, she’s a little bit under… the weather tonight.” Vander lies.

Your heart was raising at the fact that there was now another person in the bar after you had just came twice. Your view trapped in darkness besides the little bit of light that snuck past your husband's legs. His dick still sprung out for you to play with.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, another realization that your pants were where you two once were moments ago. You silently prayed that Mick didn’t notice it. Your husband’s and your guys’ stocker’s conversation was tuned out. You couldn't focus on anything that was happening.

Besides the fact that you were going to now get revenge on the person in front of you. Your hands go around his thick member. Dry rubbing him at first. You hear his hiss and you smile mischievously. Your thumb swiping across the slit covered in Vander’s own goo.

Your hands let him go, as Vander talks his shoulders dropped disappointed only momentarily before your mouth replaces where your hands once were. He bites his lip trying not to show his expressions.

Your muzzle takes him in all the way, nose almost touching his pelvic zone. You let him go before you gag, sucking on his tip. Your hand massages the base of his cock.

You hear his voice falter just a tiny bit. “Where do you want them tonight, boss?” Mick asks, talking about the boxes of glass bottles filled with booze. “Just on the counter, Claggor and Mylo are opening in the morning. Gonna have them stock up.” Vander chuckles. Doing his best not to let his voice waver in the slightest. You tried your damnedest too.

“Arighty.” Mick lifts the boxes up, continuing to talk to the owner of the bar, not knowing he was getting his dick sucked so good his knees were about to give out.

Your other hand began to fondle his balls, now all three stimulates attacking him at once. Vander lets out a low grunt that luckily wasn’t heard from either of the people in the building.

“I gotta get going, now. Good seeing ya! Hope to see [Name] next week!” Mick kicks out his dollie, rolling it out as Vander waves him goodbye.

And as that door shuts, his mouth opens, letting out all the noises he couldn’t before. “Fuck, I almost had to shout at him to leave.” Vander groans, taking a fist full of your hair to fuck himself into your mouth. You moved your hand out of the way, grabbing onto his thigh for support.

“Shit, such a doll for me.” He drags your mouth down his member before pulling you away by your hair. He steps back. “Stand up.” He motions. You crawl out from your spot, standing up before him.

“Turn around.” He spins his pointer finger.

He watches your ass jiggle with each step, his hands roughly bend you over. Your hands hitting the floor. “Need this.” He puffs out, shoving his dick inside your hole without warning.

“So perfect for me, after all these years. It’s like the first time all over again.” He ruts into you forcefully. Your fingernails claw at the ground as he fucks into you at an unfathomable pace.

“Take it like the fucking champ you are.” He smacks your ass causing you to scream out a moan. “Fucking you stupid, ain’t I?” He laughs, holding your hips. Each time you try to lift your torso up he rams into you, watching you fall back down each time. It was amusing. He enjoyed it every single time.

“I asked you a question.” He slaps your ass again.

“Y-yes! ‘Stupid, ‘s ‘stupid!” You cry out, your head shaking side to side as tears brim your eyelids. “Gonna cum again!” You shrill.

“Yeah you are.” He pants, finally helping you up by bending down to grab you by your neck. Your back up against his stomach. “Who’s making you cum for the third time?” He asks, your ass bouncing back on his black slacks. There were white splatters all over his pants from tonight. “Y-you a-re!” You seeth, sucking in your own drool.

“What’s my name?” He tightens his grip on your throat, you gasp out for air. Not able to answer as fast as he wants you to. His cock pistoning in and out of you.

“What’d I ask?” His other hand holds your lower stomach, the pressure now pressing on his cock through your tummy. “I- u-um! V-vander!” You choke out. “That’s right, doll.” He lets go of your neck but still keeping you close as he continues to fuck you.

“Gonna fuck my seed into you, maybe there’s a chance you’ll get that baby.” He snorts out a laugh, thrusting into you. Your eyes roll back into your head. “Cummingggnghah!!” You shriek, your hands behind you, gripping onto his shirt.

“H-huh- same.” He breathes heavily, getting a little slower and sloppier. His tip oozing out inside of you. Your walls spasm around him leading a domino effect, Vander fully plunged inside of you as he lets his semen shoot inside you. Your jaw slacks open at the feeling.

You wiggle yourself against him, trying to get as much of him as possible. He pushes the both of you forward, you lean over the wooden counter. A box hiding your face from the door.

“Holy shit…” You quietly whined, your legs were shaking and very weak. Barely keeping yourself standing. His slips out of you, letting the mixture of yours and his cum drop to the ground from your cunny.

“You took me so well. So good every time.” He praises you, rubbing your back.

Afterwards he takes you to your shower, water already running. You sat on the floor waiting for him in the hot water as he cleaned up your guys’ mess the two of you made.

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wcters · 3 months ago

Text

𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k+

summary: after travelling with lando to the last couple of grand prix’s, it takes another driver flirting with you for him to realize his feelings

request: “i've been seeing clips of lando not eating and taking care of himself properly during this short break and max stressing out on the stream could you please write a lando x reader please, where reader is close friends with lando and max and takes it upon herself to travel with lando for the remaining of the gps to make sure hes well. maybe one of the drivers tries to flirt with her during one of the races and thats what makes lando realise he has feelings for her. “

warnings: sweating, talks of unhealthy habits, awkward flirting | what other driver to flirt with her than the one who flirts with everyone, sorry i’ve kind of made him look like a dick i just don’t know how to flirt 🤷‍♀️ not too confident in this one

You’d been friends with Lando almost as long as Max had. You’d been friends with Max for almost your whole lives ━━ meeting him when his family was visiting some of their family during the summer in your town and you two hit it off. You had known about Lando, but you didn’t fully meet him until about a year after the two boys had met. The two of you connected instantly. Both of you don’t know why, though Max had always joked that you two were each others person . . . and you both didn’t know, but he tried the trick the two of you into getting together. He could see the look in Lando’s eyes when he’d look at you, but he’d always make excuses. ‘She’s just a friend, I’m too busy with formula 1,’ etc. Max would just roll his eyes.

You were a bit more accepting to the idea, because you did like him a little bit. Though you didn’t want to ruin the friendship and didn’t want to interrupt his career. You cared too much, and would rather be friends with him than mess it up in a chance that he liked you. Don’t get me wrong, you’d had boyfriends over they years, but the came and went, and you ended up going to Lando or Max about another boy who broke your heart. Every time that happened, Lando swore his heart broke a little bit, but he never told you. He was never really open with his feelings, and that’s why you didn’t notice he wasn’t doing for awhile.

You had known Lando was stressed about this current F1 season. He always talked about it, not about the stress, really, just more about how the car was, the team was, and there was undertone that only you or Max could sense. You both kept an eye on him, but you had recently gotten busy with some stuff. Checking your phone had slipped your mind and you don’t even think to do it until you finally had some time to yourself and you ordered some takeout. It wasn’t until you texted the group chat that Max called you.

“You alright?” You asked him, mouth full of Chinese food. “Yeah. You?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, “yeah.” There was some silence before a sigh from the other end. “Usually I don’t get into his business because he can handle himself, but I’m worried about Lando.” You raised your eyebrows and set your food down on the coffee table and paused your television. “What do you mean? Is he okay? I know he’s been stressed but I didn’t think it was anything he hasn’t handled before. It’s Lando, you know?” You ranted, eyes drawing to a picture of the three of you on your wall.

“I know. I wasnt going to do anything besides talk to him about it, but he’s blocked me out. He’s been mentioning ━━ unknowingly, because if he did he wouldn’t say it all ━━ that he’s not been eating well. In the sense that he’s eating expired food that will get him sick but he doesn’t want to go out and not showering a lot. At first, I thought he was just over-exaggerating, but then it continued and when I’d ask, he’d push me off. I don’t think he’s well.” You frowned. “Where is he now? At home?” “Yeah. We’ve been streaming together, and that’s when I started to notice his tone of voice and stuff. I think the stress of the championship is taking a toll on him.”

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll force him to talk to me. I’ll see what we can do. And before you apologize, I know you have other shit going on right now. It’s also nothing to apologize for. He’s our friend. I’ll let you know how it goes okay?” You smiled, hoping Max was feeling better. Knowing him, he was. You picture him with his shoulders becoming less tense and him letting go of the ridge of his nose he was squeezing. “Okay,” he sighed, “let me know if you crack him. “Like an egg.” You both laughed and you ended the call.

You grabbed your computer from the coffee table and opened it, checking the time. It was eight pm. Monaco was only an hour ahead of the UK, and you knew he’d still be up. He’s usually is ━━ and he doesn’t sleep well when he’s stressed. You went on to FaceTime and clicked his name. It only rang a couple times before his face popped up. “Hey.” He greeted you. Even before he talked you could tell something was wrong ━━ his sunken cheeks, his pale face, he literally lived in Monaco, he should not be pale, and his eye bags. His voice solidified your thought. It was tired and strained, like he didn’t have the energy to fake it.

“Hey buddy, how are you?” He replied with an ‘okay and kept eating whatever expired thing it was now. “. . . Are you sure?” You paused before asking, not wanting to set him off. He paused as well and looked up at the screen. “Did Max put you up to this?” He asked you. He wasn’t even mad, he was just tired. “Lando, you’re not doing okay.” You softly told him. He was about to reply before his resolve cracked and he started to sob. You wished you were there to hood him, knowing that he was alone, and he was alone while he want okay. “I know, I know I’m not. But I’m too tired to do anything about it,” he hiccuped as he spoke, “i just wish you were here. I cant do this alone. I have to go back in two days and I’m not ready.”

It was at that moment you made your decision. You kept him on as you booked a one way ticket to Monaco. “Then you won’t be,” you told him, “I’m coming over there. Max can’t, but I can. And I will. You won’t be alone Lando, not anymore.” The man let out a sigh in response and his face started to loosen up. It was quiet before a small ‘thank you’ made its way out of his mouth. “Always.” You smiled at him. “Now, when I get there I expect your ass to be waiting for me in one of those stupid cars of yours.” Lando let out a guttural laugh, and he had to admit it felt good. “You got it.”

Lando kept his promise, and as you stood out front of the Monaco airport, you spot him. His face is scanning the area, trying to find you, but he passes right over you. You shake your head ━━ for a formula one driver, he can be oblivious. “Muppet! Over here!” His eyes finally meets yours and his face lights up. “Hey.” You greet each other as you hug. “Hey. Nice to see you.” He told you as he grabbed your bags and piled them into the trunk. “You too. Someone had to save your ass.” He looks at you with a ‘really?’ face and you shrug and get in the car.

You chat all the way to his house. It took a little while because when you stopped for gas, a couple fans spotted him and asked for pictures, but you weren’t in any rush. A rush meant less time with him. You also knew meeting the fans made him happy, his face may not say it, but when you three would FaceTime he’d rant with a giant smile on his face about the fans he’d met and gifts he’d got. You and Max always teased him about it, joking that he’s such a hotshot and ‘you’re so popular!’ but that’s all that it was, jokes.

When you got to his house, you only pulled a couple things out of your suitcase as you were leaving with him the next day. You showered, and then forced him to take you to the grocery store to make him real food, not food that’s been sitting in his fridge or freezer for months. You ended grabbing things to make Alfredo and headed back, putting music on, grabbing some wine, and getting to it ━━ though it was mostly you cooking and Lando almost hurting himself with the most random things. You didn’t know how he lived by himself.

After that, he still hasn’t packed his bag ━━ which you scolded him like a child for ━━ and helped him pack it. You think his neighbours thought it was a domestic by the way you two bickered.

“What about this one?” “I don’t know.” “Lando. You have until tomorrow, and at this rate, you’ll be going naked.” “People won’t mind that.” “You’re so gross. Get out of my sight.”

You continued to bicker to the point where you shoed him off with a wave of your hand ━━ he didn’t actually leave, just talked to you with a smug look on his face ━━ and you chose clothes for him. You were definitely telling Cisca about this. At the end of it, you two were giggling at the movie you had put on, drunk off wine and delirious after the loss of sleep. You didn’t even know you fell asleep until you woke up by the sound of Lando’s alarm. You had to wake him up with so much force it almost pushed him off the couch. “Wake up you dickhead.” You two were a mess of limbs tangled together. That was the closest you two had ever been.

It didn’t take long ━━ with you practically shoving him out the door ━━ to arrive at the airport and get on the McLaren private jet. You felt a bit weird getting on as you even offered to get your own flight, but Lando looked at you like you had grown two heads and replied with “Oscar’s girlfriend uses it, you get to too.” That made you blush. You didn’t think he realized how the words sounded. When you got in, Lily and Oscar were already seated. You greeted each other and you went off with Lily as Oscar and Lando talked about the race coming up with their team over a zoom call.

Though you had heard of Lily, this was your first time meeting her. She was incredibly nice and you two got along great, even exchanging numbers incase you wanted to rant about ‘how annoying the boys were’ with a wink. That was pretty much how the plane ride went, you and Lily chatting and laughing as the boys talked strategy. Both of you didn’t know this, but you and Lando kept stealing glances at the other. When Oscar asked, Lando’s excuse was ‘she’s my best friend, just making sure she’s alright,’ but yours was a bit different.

You had been showing Lily pictures of the three of you: Max, you, and Lando, and sharing stories before she asked “what’s up with you and Lando?” You paused and turned to look at her. “What do you mean?” She gave you a look. You sighed, “we’re just friends.” “In a ‘I’m denying it way’ or a ‘I like him, but we’re just friends’ way?” “The second one. I mean, he’s my best friend and I love him, but I like him a little bit. But I’d rather face it alone than lose the friendship.” You whispered that part, looking to make sure Lando wasn’t looking. She nodded, “I get that . . . But are you sure he doesn’t like you back?” “He burps in my face and eats my food. I’m sure.

She let out an ‘okay’, dragging out the ‘y’. Though Lily wanted to say that Oscar did that too ━━ besides the burping part ━━ she didn’t. She figured you’d eventually figure it out, or she and Oscar’s would give you the little push you needed.

You must’ve fell asleep soon after you put in your hand phones and put on your playlist as you woke up to someone attempting to pick you up. “Hm?” You asked, still half asleep. You heard a quiet ‘shot’ before the voice spoke up louder. “Time to wake up.” You opened your eyes to see Lando standing in front of you. “What a way to wake me up with a jumpscare of your face.” You mused as you got up and stretched. You were always a bit grumpy when you woke up and that’s why Lando wanted to lift you so you’d stay awake. “I will hit you.” He replied to you as you made your way down the stairs of the plane and on to the tarmac. “I’ll tell Cisca.” That shut him up real quick.

The city of Austin, Texas passed by you in blurry images. Usually Lando would’ve poked you until you finally turned to him and hit him in the back of the head, but it was your first time in Austin and he let you take it all in. When you got closer to the hotel though, that’s when he started to annoy you. You did hit him in the head when the car parked in front of the hotel, and Lily and Oscar heard the aftermath of that with Lando mumbling an ‘ow’ and rubbing the back of his head.

“I don’t even hit you that hard!” “Yes you did, I have brain damage.” “I’ll give you brain damage if you keep complaining.”

The four of you made it into the hotel and up to your rooms, albeit with a little fuss with you and Lando bickering, but when you got into the room, you immediately flopped on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a hotel with a bed as nice as this.” Lando looked surprised. “Really?” You nodded as you sat up and crossed your legs. “You told me Max payed for you for that one hotel in Italy?” You stayed silent. “Did he not pay for you?” “No, i payed for myself . . . At a different hotel. It’s not his fault though, I told him you payed for me.”

You knew you were in for a scolding when you saw his face, and you were. You tried so hard not to giggle at his face. He was halfway through a sentence when you finally broke. “What?” “Your face is really funny when you’re mad. You make a weird face.” “I do not!” “You do, ask Max.” “Whatever.” He continued and then made you promis to never do that to him or Max with a pinkie promise. You rolled your eyes and did it. After that, you two got ready for bed. You had gotten into your individual beds and turned the lights off when you spoke up. “It was a good plan though. None of you had a clue.” “. . . It was good. But you’re not doing it again.” “. . . Damn.”

You stayed with Lando for the rest of the US Grand Prix, only letting him go for interviews, racing, and media ━━ though you made sure to check on him during the day when you could. When you couldn’t be with him, you’d hang out in the garage with Lily, or you’d tag along with the other girls who were there that Lily introduced you to. You’d particularly made friends with Alexandra, you two hitting it off almost immediately.

You passed out almost immediately when you got back to Monaco for the next couple days before you had to leave again, and it felt like a blur. You only remember a little of it ━━ showers, movies with Lando, and sleeping ━━ before you were being shipped off to the next Grand Prix. You had no idea how he did it. You knew he’d been doing this awhile, but the jet lag was enough to hve you feeling hazy. You were sure Lando had gotten so many pictures of you sleeping and sent them to Max. There was one time when you woke up while he was taking one and you couldn’t get his phone in time . . . Though you did threaten to post an embarrassing photo of him during his teenage years if he didn’t delete. He showed you him deleting it, and the redownloaded it. You found this out later after Lando sent it to the group chat. That dickhead.

You were now in Brazil, two weeks later, heading into the Paddock with Lando. You offered to stay behind and let him have pictures taken of just him but he waved you off, joking that ‘you’d make him look better.’ In response to that you gave him the finger and walked in front of him ━━ thought you had no idea where you were going ━━ with his laugh resonating behind him.

You were excited for Brazil. You’d always wanted to go there since you were kid, fascinated with the culture and country, but your family never had enough money and you had been busy every previous time the Brazil Grand Prix took place. You had ranted to Lando the whole car ride there, him giggling at how excited you got. He didn’t find it weird or annoying, just happy that it made you happy. You hung it in the McLaren garage with the boys and Lily until it was time to start media, then you made your way to the Williams garage to find the other Lily. It was one of the races she was able to make it to and you had planned to meet up.

When you got to the garage, you passed Alex and Franco. You had met Alex, but you had yet to the men the new rookie. You’d heard of his flirty reputation from Lando, laughing at him. You eventually found Lily with some help and you two stayed at the Williams garage for a little bit before you both decided to grab some coffee. You talk about her career, your families, friends, and things going on recently. You told her how you ended up here ━━ obviously keeping some details out for Lando’s sake ━━ as you grabbed the coffee and made rounds around the Paddock.

It when you had stopped by the bathroom so Lily could go that you saw Franco again. You were on your phone when you heard his voice. “I saw you at Williams, no?” You lifted your head to see him leaning against the wall beside you, facing you. “Yeah. I was going to see Lily.” He nodded and hummed. “Are you here with Lily?” He smirked. When he did that you realized what he was doing. “No. I’m with someone else. A friend.”

“A friend, huh?” You forced yourself not to roll your eyes. You nodded. “Well, since they’re just a friend, do you want to get to know each other?” You were about to respond when Lily came out. You handed her her stuff as she greeted Franco. You were about to leave before you turned to him, “not really.” He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, not expecting that response.

Lily never asked, but you had a fleeting she knew what took place based on what you said last to him, the look on her face, and the quiet giggles she let out. You two continued to walk around the paddock until Alex texted her that he was done. She apologized but you told her not to be and tell Alex you say hi.

You weren’t in a hurry to get back to the McLaren garage so you took your time, strolling past different areas and looking at food stops. When you did get the garage, you saw Lando with an annoyed expression and you made your way over, bumping your shoulder into his. “What’s up?” He looked at you. “You met Franco?” You raised your eyebrows, not expecting him to know that. “Yeah . . . How’d you know?” “Oscar told me.” You nodded slowly. He seemed upset. There was a beat of silence before you realized what he was feeling.

“Are you jealous?” He spun his head around to face yours. “No!” You raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Sure.” You looked at the screen he was just watching, pretending to leave it as you noticed him fiddling with his hands. “Yes. I was.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, almost as if he was scared to say it. “Why?” He cleared his throat, “because he was flirting with you. I know he was.” “Why does that matter?”

There was some more silence. “Because i like you.” You opened your mouth in shock, not prepared to hear that. You opened and closed it before you spoke. “Really?” He took your expression in the wrong way and responded with a ‘forget it’ and moved to put his headphones back on before you grabbed them out of his hands and forced him to look at you. “I like you too, you muppet.” Now it was his turn to be shocked. When he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, you grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. It was weird. I mean, you’d imagined it, but you never expected it to happen.

When you pulled away, his cheeks were red and he had a sappy smile on his face. “So . . . Can I take you out on a date after this then?” You snorted, “well I hope so. I want to be treated, Mr. Norris.”

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