#You go to sleep first kiddo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Text

✎ sick days

- gojo satoru x reader

who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

genre: fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs

note: based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.

With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.

“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”

Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.

His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”

Suddenly, he got an idea.

“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”

As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.

Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.

“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”

When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.

And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.

"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.

As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."

"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"

"Mm-hmm!"

Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.

Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"

But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.

Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.

Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.

“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.

“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”

“Fwah!”

“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”

Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.

“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”

Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.

Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.

“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”

“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.

“Why are you so against me?!”

After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.

Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.

“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”

Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.

And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.

Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.

“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”

“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”

Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.

“Don’t spank him!”

“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”

“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”

Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.

And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.

Epilogue

“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”

Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”

You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.

You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”

Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.

“Did he just poo on me?!”

4K notes · View notes

tojipie · 1 year ago

Text

˚ ✧ content: first-time parent toji, doctor reader, fluff, brief mentions of injury

“oh— hey! found one more for you down the hall.” a dreaded patient chart is thrust into your arms before you can tell the cheery nurse that your shift is already over.

“great,” you mutter, tiredly scanning the stack of paperwork as you make your way down the hall. it was way too late for this.

2-year-old male, already triaged and x-rayed. drove in by his dad about 2 hours ago. nothing too extensive, wouldn’t take more than an hour to get him sent home.

soft cries greet you at the door to the examination room, a hushed voice— his father— attempting to console the child.

“megs, c'mon. you’re gonna be okay! these are good people.” the older man whispers, sighing as the toddler’s sobs only grow louder.

your knock silences them both, the little boy trying to put on a strong face for you despite the little sniffles wracking his chest.

the kid is a carbon copy of his dad, donning the same shaggy black hair and big green eyes. the toddler looks up at you hesitantly, long lashes slick with tears.

“see? doctor’s here,” his dad coos, feigning fake excitement as you shut the door behind you. you can hear the quiver in his voice as he says it, anxiety eating away at his composure.

first-time parent you think, cute. always more terrified than the child. always.

“how’s our little trooper doing?” you smile, sympathetic to both their states. the younger boy says nothing, wiping the wetness from his face with his good arm. poor baby.

“fell off his trike in the driveway,” the father explains, shaking his head. he was charming, soft-spoken yet commanding respect. gnarled edges of a scar gracing the side of his mouth.

“can i see? just want to have a better look at the injury site,” you say calmly, snapping on a pair of blue gloves.

“show her where it hurts kiddo,” he asks tenderly, wincing as you take the ice pack off to expose the child’s swollen wrist.

megumi looks up at you curiously as you examine the injury, exhausted from a mix of pain and sleep deprivation.

“mama?” he mumbles, idly kicking his feet in his father’s lap.

“no bud not mama.” the older man laughs, clearly embarrassed. you feel your heart twinge just a bit at the adorable show of confusion.

“no broken skin, the joint is still aligned too.” you say confidently, placing the ice pack back. “likely not a break or a dislocation but i’ll look at the x-rays just so we’re positive, sound good?”

the father nods quietly, hugging his son to his chest.

“his mom was never in the picture, s’ hard handling him alone,” the older man doesn’t follow up on his comment, leaving it at that.

you nod. “i’m sorry.”

“toji,” he mumbles.

“i’m sorry, toji.”

it doesn’t take long for you to go over the blue images. an intact bone stands out against the illuminated wall, not a break thankfully. the stranger catches on soon enough, tension leaving his body at the good news.

“looks like it’s just a sprain,” you say, pointing to the image.

“see that kiddo?” he whispers, turning the little boy’s head toward you. “s’ nothing.”

“nofing?” megumi mumbles, clearly too tired to pay attention anymore. shy as a bunny.

“you’re gonna want to ice and elevate for at least the next two days, you should see a full recovery by then but if not i want you to come right back, okay?” you explain.

the father nods, propping his little boy down on the floor as you type out your post-visit instructions.

“say thank you to the pretty doctor megs,” he encourages, chuckling as the little boy waddles over to hug your leg with his good arm. so incredibly tiny.

pretty huh? you could get used to that.

“fank you.” his sweet voice latches onto your tired heart and melts you from the inside. megumi slumps down against your shoe as sleep takes over, caught under the arms and swept into his dad’s arms in an instant.

#fushiguro toji x reader #toji fluff #toji x reader fluff #toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #zenin toji #dilf toji #jujutsu toji #toji #toji drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

6K notes · View notes

littlcdarlin · 6 days ago

Text

Into Temptation – the Outing

read Into Temptation (the initial meeting & first night)

summary: Reader hasn't left Joel's side since they spent the night together. When he brings her to the Tipsy Bison days later, Tommy is pissed, and people stare at them. It should bother Joel, but it has the opposite effect. warnings: girthy juicy age gap (20 & late 50s), daddy kink (duh), overstimulation, forced orgasm (kinda sorta, consent is enthusiastic the whole time), breeding kink, praise kink, Joel calls reader “kid” or “kiddo”, dacryphilia, Joel gets off on people seeing them together, reader is really sweet

note: this Joel has me so weak in the knees I actually need to either be locked up or put down like a dog. Position inspired by that Narcos scene. You know the one. Enjoy!

For a man who likes to keep to himself, Joel sure doesn’t mind all the eyes glued to him – to you, your little hand clutching his, your torso drowning in one of Joel’s pullovers, his scent lingering all over you like some sort of sick perfume. They know what he did to you. What he will continue to do, once you’re back at his place. He took you there after your first day together at your place, because your house is still so empty – you haven’t been in Jackson long. Joel’s home smells like you now, and neither of you could come up with a good enough reason for you to go back to your place, when it’s so quiet and empty and Joel-less.

So he washed your clothes for you in the tub while you were sleeping, all fucked out, limp, and naked in his soiled sheets. This way you wouldn’t even have to go home to pick up new clothes, not for a while at least. He wouldn’t want you to be cold, though, so he gave you one of his knit sweaters to wear over your dress, and a heavy brown leather jacket. They are way too big on you of course, but for some reason they fit. Not physically, but it looks so right, you in his clothes, your hand in his, your hair still a little tangled in the back from where his hand buried itself when he kissed you right before leaving.

Truth be told, he wasn’t even keen on going to the Tipsy Bison. Hell, he went without a drink for four days and he didn’t mind a bit, your pliant body under his a pleasant distraction from all he tried to drown in whiskey. No, not a distraction – a cure. That’s what it felt like when he heard your voice, when he smelled your sweat and sweet perfume and felt you clench around him.

So no, he doesn’t mind people looking. You and him – it’s unusual, he knows that, knows how much of a pervert it makes him, but you moaned so sweetly for him, begged so politely, wanted him so bad. Unusual is the word for it, unusually good. You don’t seem to be very nervous, which validates him further. You feel safe in his hands, as safe as you did when you asked him to walk you home that first night, and if you don’t mind the looks people are giving you, he sure as hell can put up with them.

"Your friends here?"

You like to play cards in the evenings, he knows, and even though he’d rather sit down at the bar and pull you onto his lap, he’d be happy to leave you to it if it’s what you want.

"They’re on patrol, I think," you answer, eyes glued to his as the door of the bar slams shut behind you two, effectively blocking out the cold. "What day is it again?"

Jesus Christ, you don’t even know the fucking day, all perception of time lost to your endless naps after Joel made you come in various ways over the last couple of days. He feels that insatiable fire in his loins start again, even though he’s already fucked you two times today. Either you’re supplying him with the best cardio of his life, or he’ll die of heart failure any day now.

Before he can tell you the day, he feels a hand on his shoulder, and reluctantly drags his eyes away from your pretty face. He likes when it’s flushed, from the cold or from sex, he isn’t picky.

"Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Joel?"

Of course it’s Tommy. He saw right through Joel the first time he caught him watching you from across the bar, and came over to your place as soon as he figured out where his brother was.

Tommy’s angry face, the curses on his lips, the way his fist banged against the door frame.

Joel, she’s twenty fuckin’ years old. There are plenty of women who’d be happy to keep you company. Just send her home, alright? She’s been in Jackson for like a minute, she doesn’t need you complicating things for her.

But just before Tommy knocked, hadn’t you seemed so ecstatic in Joel’s arms, your body entirely relaxed?

She’s an adult, Tommy, ’n it’s what she wants.

He heard your bare feet on the floor, was glad Tommy couldn’t see you with the door only half open, because if he turned around to look at you right then, Joel was sure he would be able to see his spent dripping out of you and the marks his lips had left all over your neck.

"Look, Tommy, it’s like this: you think you have a say in this cause of Maria’s position in Jackson, but it’s got nothin’ to do with you. At all. So back off."

Joel’s voice is quiet, he doesn’t want to cause a scene. What he wants is to have a glass of whiskey, watch the look on every man’s face in Jackson when they realize you’re sweet on him, and then go home and fuck your lights out. By the way you won’t let go of his hand, he guesses you’re not opposed to that plan either.

So he ignores Tommy and helps you out of your jacket – his jacket – for which you reward him with one of your dazzlingly sweet smiles. He watches as you take off his pullover, too, and although it fills him with a sick pleasure to think of everybody seeing you in his clothes, he’s blessed with your naked shoulders and arms instead. Immediately, his hand finds your back, right below your neck, the spot that isn’t covered by your dress. If he’s not mistaken, you shudder under his touch. God, he wants to take you to the bathroom and really make you shudder, but he’s more than testing Tommy’s patience already. His brother is watching with a deep scowl on his face, dark brows pulled tight together.

You smile at Tommy when Joel walks you over to the bar, ever sweet to everyone around you, and it makes him weak for you. You’re everything he isn’t.

"The usual, Joel?", the barkeeper asks, his eyes widening when he spots your hand holding Joel’s, the marks on your neck he forgot to conceal for you. A scarf would have done the trick, but Jesus, he likes this physical proof of how often he’s had you stretched on his cock already. It’s near primitive how much he wants to defend his territory. For a second he wonders if the kid who pestered you the night he took you home is here, and almost snorts at the idea of you and him together. What made his blood boil that night, now seems like a joke. You didn’t want a twenty-five year old kid, you wanted Joel, Daddy, with his bad back and greying hair and popping joints. Too good to be true, but true nonetheless.

You sit down at the bar and he joins you, nodding at the barkeeper. Your leg presses into his immediately. He understands your need to be close to him, he feels the same way, so he reaches out and drags your barstool closer to his, until he can feel your body heat even through his flannel. You fingers clutch at his knee, as if there’s no other option for you but to touch him when he’s this close. He lets you, revels in the fact that you would probably let him touch you however he wanted in return.

The barkeeper gets Joel his whiskey and you your usual – Joel smiles when he realizes you’re both creatures of habit – and you clink your glass to his.

"Cheers," he says with a smile, watching your eyes that remind him so much of Bambi, and you chuckle.

"Cheers, Daddy."

It comes naturally, and it makes something deep within him stir. He doesn’t think anyone heard, but he knows if Tommy somehow got wind of what you call him, the debauched name he drags from you with strokes of his cock or fingers, or just with a smile, well, he’d probably wring his neck. He knows he should tell you not to call him that in public, but you seem so happy to be here with Joel, any thoughts of chastising you are wiped from his mind.

"You look so pretty, baby, I forgot why we ever left the house," he mutters, making you blush and laugh lightly. His eyes follow your movement when you clench your thighs and he wants to groan. Whenever he thinks it’s sick how much, how often, he wants you, you want him right back, and any doubts shrivel up inside of him. He wishes he could take you here, make everyone watch how willing you are for him, and maybe then they’d understand that there was never another outcome than this one, maybe then he’d get you all to himself again, with nobody knocking on the door after he just pumped you full of his load. He thinks you might just let him, too.

Instead, he takes a sip of his whiskey. You’re quiet, and he wonders if you’re uncomfortable, but before he can ask, you lean up and catch his lips in a kiss. God, he should really put a stop to this before his brother has an aneurysm, but you taste so sweet. It’s just a peck, but it leaves him wanting more, and he wonders how quickly you two can get away with leaving again without making people talk more than they already will.

You’re here for a reason of course, something about keeping up appearances, though the details escape him with you fogging up his brain. But he can’t steal you away completely, or people will do more than whisper and point. A pretty girl like you, not leaving the house of an old man like him – it wouldn’t be received well, and you’ve been pushing it with the last couple of days already. So, a nice public outing, where everybody can see just how content you are, and then it’s back to Joel’s bedroom. He wonders for how long he can stop going on patrols before Tommy will threaten to throw him out of town.

"You know," he mutters, leaning down so he’s sure only you can hear him, "when we get home, you’re not wearing clothes for a week, baby. Already miss you naked."

You blush violently, but a satisfied smile curls your lips upward.

"I’ll get cold," you answer, half pouting. Joel wants to feel that pout with his thumb, but doesn’t dare.

"I’ll keep ya warm, don’t worry," he answers darkly, thoughts of your sweating, exhausted body flooding his brain. There are so many things he still hasn’t done to you, like letting you suck him off, or fucking you in his lap, your back pressed against his front. A million ways he could have you, will have you, and one by one they come to him as he watches you drink your drink in a bar full of people he knows.

It doesn’t take either of you long to finish your drinks, and Joel knows it’s stupid to leave so soon again, but he can see the way you’re subtly rubbing your thighs together, how your gaze drifts over his arms, his chest, his belly, and he really can’t leave his little girl hanging when she clearly needs him. He plans on making you say it, though he knows it can’t be here.

So the two of you leave after Joel pays, you’re out the door, jackets in hand, before Tommy can stop you. Joel will deal with him later, when he’s gotten this frenzy for you out of his system.

You’re needy, hands clutching his arm as you walk through the cold, and Joel can’t help himself, he puts an arm around you and rests his palm low on your hips, so low it makes you squirm. He strokes you there, teasing you when he knows you can’t do anything about it, and you whine for him, even though you’re in the middle of the street.

"Jesus, kid, pipe down or they’ll have my head," he mutters, and you do your best to stifle any sounds his hand coaxes out of you. Despite what he said, he doesn’t stop teasing until you’re at his doorstep, and he opens the door. He doesn’t waste time kissing you, just slams the door shut and guides you to the sofa, where you lie down on your back immediately.

"Fuck," Joel curses, "look at you, baby. Thought I was gonna have to fuck you right over that barstool, that's how sweet you look."

You moan and your hands grasp at his collar, opening the buttons one by one, trying to get him naked as quickly as possible.

"Needed you so bad, Daddy, and I couldn’t tell you," you admit almost timidly.

"Oh baby," Joel answers, helping you with the buttons, "If you need Daddy to get you off, you tell me and I’ll help you out, alright? We could’ve gone to the bathroom."

His shirt is off now, and starts pulling your dress over your head.

"They would’ve known what we were up to," you breathe, half naked under Joel’s big form, your breasts exposed now.

"Shit, kiddo, they knew already," Joel groans, opening his belt buckle, "'s all over your face how bad you want this cock, bathroom or no bathroom."

You blush at his words, watching him pull down his jeans and boxers with wide eyes, and he can almost taste your desire.

"Don’t worry, baby, I like how much you need it," Joel breathes, and finally kisses you, his practiced fingers finding your panties easily and dragging them down, your hips lifting from the couch to help him.

"Yeah," you breathe against his lips, "Need you all the time, Daddy."

Something in him snaps at this admission, because part of him expects you to run out on him any day, that you’ll snap out of whatever craze you’re in and realize fucking a man almost forty years your senior can’t possibly be what you want – but you never do. You just look at him the way you are now, all doe eyed and docile, like his every whim is your command. It shouldn’t turn him on the way it does, it really shouldn’t. A better man would send you home, a stronger man would admit Tommy is right, but Joel hasn’t been good since the end of the world began, and he’s tired of being strong, so his thick fingers find your clit and he watches in awe how your head falls back, your pretty eyes rolling upwards.

"Say that again, angel," he orders gently, fingers insistent and relentless, building the pressure in your tummy with practiced ease.

"I always need you, Daddy," you whimper, hips bucking on their own accord. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve a sweet thing like you to bury himself into, to want his seed so badly you beg him for it, but he’s done questioning, and pumps his fist over his hard cock a couple of times, watching your face contorted in pleasure.

He aligns himself with your entrance, easing up on your aching clit, because he can sense your orgasm impending, and pushes into the tight heat of your body with a grunt. He stopped being careful several days ago, and although you yelp, your face splits into a satisfied smile when he fills you up, like you really have been waiting for it since the moment he pulled out of you this afternoon.

"Take my cock so well, baby," he mutters, and starts slamming into you. His pace isn’t punishing, but it’s fast and deep, after seeing you among other people, his need to stake his claim over you having grown. He wants to pump you full of his load, have it dripping out of you wherever you go, have it swelling up your belly and making it impossible for anyone to take you away from him. Surely, if you were pregnant, even Tommy would admit it’s best for you two to be together.

He fucks you into the mattress, hips snapping into yours, his belly nudging your body and the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing your clit just right. There’s no need for you to move with him, not when his pace feels so good, when it builds that coil in your stomach so unrelentingly, and soon he can feel the way you flutter and clench, that telltale sign that you’re almost there. Normally he would make you wait for it, tell you to ask for Daddy’s permission, but you were so good at the bar, didn’t want to expose just how badly you needed his cock to stretch you out, so he plans on rewarding you. There’s certain benefits to his age, like the stamina he built over the last four decades.

"Daddy," you cry, your whole body rocking with the impact of his thrusts, and he chuckles.

"'S okay, angel, you let go whenever you want to, but I’m not near done with you."

His hands roam over your body, your pebbled nipples, the column of your throat, your waist. When he presses down on your stomach, feeling himself all the way inside of you, nudging against that spot only he seems to be able to reach, you tip your head back and gush around him, a trembling mess under his big body.

"Goood girl, there we go," he mutters, but doesn’t stop even when it starts to feel like it’s almost too much and your orgasm fades. You don’t ask him to stop either, though he would, if you did. No way he’d harm you, it’s just that you seem to enjoy a little hurt.

He hoists you up and slips out of you briefly, which draws a petulant whine from your throat.

"Easy, baby, just a second," he soothes, and sits you both up so that you’re on his lap, his belly pressed against your back, and his hot breath right at your ear. His voice is so close, it might as well be inside your head.

"There you go, you quit your whinin’," he drawls, and forces his cock back into you. His arms wrap around your torso, holding you to him completely, his hips snapping upwards forcefully, your whole body rocking against his with the impact.

His right hand comes up to your neck, clutching your hair, while his other hand grabs your tit, and you’re helpless to do anything but crane your neck and grasp his large hand with your little one. Your body is overstimulated from your first orgasm, but Joel doesn’t let up, and quickly, he can feel another one building inside of you by the way you clench, the way your cries become a little more breathy.

"Gonna give your Daddy another one, sweet girl? Gonna come on this cock again? Yeah, I think you will, think you’d come as many times as I tell you to," he huffs, the vibrations of his voice sparking goosebumps on your skin.

"Yes, D-daddy," you groan, "as much as you want."

"Go on then, kiddo, let me have it."

He thrusts up particularly hard, his big arms trapping you against his wide body, engulfing you, as you shudder and whine. When you’re done, you go limp against him, barely able to hold yourself up, but Joel’s arms hold you steady, and he mouths at your neck, sucking fresh bruises onto your skin. He marvels at the way you let him fuck you like this, even when you’re spent, and speeds up his thrusts.

"One more and you’re done," he tells you, and you shake your head against him.

"I can’t, Daddy, too much," you whine, but your core clenches and trembles, and Joel knows you have it in you.

"You can take it, baby, come on, one more for Daddy."

It takes a while, this time, your body spent, but Joel has no trouble holding off spilling his seed inside of you. If he really wanted to, he could probably make you come five times before he did himself, but he wants so badly to paint your insides with his load, to have it take and watch your belly swell. And anyway, he can just fuck you again in a couple of hours, if his age allows it. The past days, you woke up in the middle of the night and begged him for it.

"Need me to talk to you?", Joel asks, when you whine and splutter, but don’t come, and you nod frantically.

"Yes you do, angel, course you do. Just listen to Daddy’s voice, alright? Doin’ so well, takin’ everythin’ I give you."

His thrusts are slower now, but deeper, grazing your cervix, his hand still clutching your hair so that your throat is exposed.

"You’re really something, baby, lettin’ an old man like me fuck you like this," he rambles, not really sure why he’s bringing up his age when surely it will make you see sense, but if anything, your whines grow louder, like his age is turning you on.

"You like that? You like letting and old man fuck you full of his cum?"

Your sweet pussy flutters around him at the mention of him filling you up, and he almost comes. His jaw is slack, mouth bumping into your neck with every thrust.

"Not an old man, Daddy," you whimper, "just you."

Joel’s hips stutter for a moment, but he quickly regains control over his rhythm.

"That’s right, baby, only I get to cum inside of you," he groans, "You want it?"

You nod, a weak twitch of your head, and usually he’d make you use your words, but you’re limp and exhausted, so he decides to let it slide.

"Alright baby, you can have it as soon as you come again for Daddy."

He can feel you actually put an effort into it, the muscles in your stomach clenching and unclenching, and the idea of you wanting his load that bad makes him curse. He can feel your body tense, can hear the way your breathing grows shallow, and then you’re crying, a real sob tearing through your chest, as you come on his cock for the third time.

He wants to praise you for it, but he just keeps punching into you, feeling your hot tears drop onto his hand and making a sick satisfaction pool in his stomach, and then he’s clutching you to his body tightly, burying himself inside of you as deeply as possible, and white hot pleasure erupts behind his eyes as his cock twitches and coats your inside with his spent. He fucks it up into you, imagines the effect it might have if he does it often enough.

You’re weak in his arms when he pulls out of you, your eyes closed, and he gently lets the two of you sink into the couch, your legs automatically wrapping around his thigh. He can feel himself drip out of you. Next time he vows to let you sleep with his cock still inside of you, so that there’s no way you won’t fall pregnant.

"Good girl," he whispers into your hair, and even in your exhausted haze, you smile, mouth half slack. He tugs you close to him, his hands tracing patterns on your skin.

Tommy is not right, he thinks, it cannot be wrong to feel as happy as he feels, as happy as you look, tucked against him and dripping onto his thigh.

#into temptation #old!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #Joel miller smut #joel miller #the last of us part 1 #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic #my writing

650 notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago

Text

twinkle twinkle little star

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub undertones, fluffy <3, reader is called kid and stupid, clit rubbing

“rafeyyy.” you whine, squirming underneath the thin blanket covering the two of your bodies.

“baby.” rafe grunts out, his voice deep with what he wishes was sleep. “go to bed.”

“i can't! im trying really!” you complain.

rafe sighs, tugging you closer, back into his grip that you wiggled away from trying to find a comfortable position.

“just close your eyes, kid.”

you try. you really do. you shut your eyes, pray for your body to relax, but to no avail as you squirm again, causing rafe to sigh.

“alright. hold on.” he moves, sitting himself up against the headboards, arms open as you crawl into his lap, letting him cradle you in his big arms.

“this better you big baby?” he coos, rocking you softly from side to side, letting out a small groan as your bum moves against his lap.

“mhm.” you nod, resting your head against rafes chest. you close your eyes, sleep is so close, but yet when rafe tries to move you back so he can lay down, your eyes blink open.

“fuck, you're still not asleep?” rafe groans.

“im sorry!” you whine. “im trying, really. just can’t.”

“alright, shit.” rafe moves your body for you, laying your head into the crook between his chest and shoulder, arm caging your body close.

his free hand moves to your chest, massaging your tits through your silk nightgown.

you let out a low moan, eyes fluttering closed as rafe switches back and forth between your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently enough to allow it to be relaxing instead of just turning you on.

“stupid baby, didn't even realize she couldn't sleep just because she was horny.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. your eyelashes flutter open, looking up at rafe.

“it's okay, kiddo.” he says. “im gonna take care of you.”

his hand moves lower to dive between your thighs, smirking to himself when he feels your flimsy underwear. he has a habit of ripping them off whenever he wants access to you, so you've given up on buying high quality material just for it to be destroyed.

“gonna rub your little cunnie for you, mkay?” rafe makes sure you nod.

his finger strokes over your underwear, right through your center. you try not to squirm around, opening your legs up slightly to give rafe more access. he presses a kiss to your head when you spread your thighs, muttering out a quiet affirmation.

“thats my good girl.”

“i-”

“shh.” rafe pets his finger over your clit before dipping lower, feeling how the wet spot has formed on your underwear.

rafe pushes your underwear to the side, unable to restrict himself any longer from feeling your bare skin. he lets out a hum of approval as he moves his fingertip through your slick.

he continues to hum, soft familiar melodies. rafe is no singer, but if he was he'd be cooing you gentle lullabies as he continues to gently rock you, two fingers now gliding through your folds.

“ohhh, thats it.” rafe hums as your eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. you're sure to be out as soon as his fingers bring you to orgasm.

he moves up to your clit, wanting to get you off quickly so he can get to sleep himself.

“big day tomorrow, bunny.” he presses more kisses to your forehead and hairline. “gonna take you shopping.”

if this was the first you'd heard of the news, you'd certainly be wide awake and excited, but rafe has been promising you a whole day just the two of you for a while now. shopping, dinner, walk on the beach, anything you decide.

“mmm love you.” you whisper as rafe rubs his two fingers over your clit, your thighs squeezing in closer to his hand as your high builds.

“love you too baby. cum for me then we can get some sleep, yeah?” rafe resumes his humming with twinkle twinkle little star.

you let out soft mewls and moans that are the perfect accompaniment to his song, rafe playing you like an instrument with his fingers on your clit.

you don't need to tell him that you're close, you're certain he knows from the rush of wetness, the way your clit pulses as he rubs faster until your entire body stiffens, then your back arches as you let out a moan.

rafe rubs you through your orgasm until you slump in his arms, high replaced by pure exhaustion, falling asleep before rafe even lays you back down.

“mmm, that's my girl.” rafe kisses your head once more as he readjusts you in bed, eyes sliding closed now that you're content and asleep in his arms.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra

2K notes · View notes

drferox · 2 months ago

Text

So part of parenting is slowly exposing the small child to various pieces of media.

There’s a balancing act between trying to present media that I loved at that age and allowing space to explore it, and becoming acutely aware of confronting content in ‘kids’ media. The child’s brain is like a sponge and I have no idea what’s going to be absorbed on any given viewing.

For example, going from Disney’s Frozen to Disney’s Cinderella is confronting and kind of scary for a little kid, because we jumped from one idea of what ‘sisters’ are to wicked ones. Like yeah, I have to agree in context that it’s scary.

But Sleeping Beauty, with the monsters and dragon and fire, is only ‘pretend scary’. It does, however, cause questions to be raised about kissing. (Because, being a single mum, the child doesn’t see me kiss anybody so has no context for that)

But anyway, now we’re finally grasping more complex stories and while we’re nowhere near developing a moral code yet, kiddo is currently obsessed with The Last Unicorn movie!

And I am so happy about it!

It was a movie I first saw at about that age, though I nowhere near understood it at the time.

You gotta be careful about what words you let I be your brain because some of them will re-write your mind. The Last Unicorn was one of those influences for me and I’m delighted to be passing it on.

#the last unicorn #parenting #media

737 notes · View notes

marscardigan · 2 months ago

Text

bad thoughts

joel miller x reader

Not a lot, just forever universe

This is my first fic here, hope you enjoy thiss <3

Summary: After feeling down for a while, Joel makes you smile again.

Warnings: Pregancy, Ellie being kinda mean.

You have had a shitty day. Since the birth of your baby girl, you felt exhausted. You only wanted to be inside your bed all day, or between your boyfriends arms. So when you came home after a walk to ease your nerves, and you didn't find Joel, you were on the verge of tears. It wasn't really that bad; you just weren't in the mood to get to sleep Clementine, especially knowing how hard it was. It wasn't until Ellie came down the stairs that you got an idea.

"Hey kiddo" You sighed, with your daughter in your arms.

"Hey," Ellie didn't look at you. Instead, she grabbed a banana and her backpack. "I'm going to Dina's tonight".

"I-uh... I was hoping you could help me to get Clem to sleep." The named one started crying. "I'm exhausted today"

Ellie groaned. "When you're not lately?"

The comment surprised you. "Well, could you help me, please? I promise I will make up to you." You tried to smile, shushing the cries of the baby.

"It's- ugh" She looked up at you, now. "I'm kinda late."

"Please, Ells, you know I normally would do it myself, but my back is hurting really bad."

"Jesus." The teenager then grabbed your daughter and went up the stairs. The moment the baby left your chest, she started to get quiet.

Twenty minutes later, Ellie was leaving Clementine's room with an unhappy frown. "Done."

"Thank you so, so much, hon." You then went to hug her, but she dodged it. She was gone by the time you said goodbye.

The last months, you and Ellie weren't at the best point of your friendship. You tried to think that it was because she was becoming more independent, but when she still did all the things she used to do with Joel, you couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You then went to your shared bedroom with Joel, and tears started rolling. Likewise, you didn't even hear the front door opening and Joel calling your name. It was then when he found you, curled up in your bed with your face all wet.

"Hey, hey, hey, angel." He grabbed softly your chin to look at your eyes. "What happened?"

You babbled something, but your head was all melted. You couldn't make coherent thoughts, let alone talk. "It's okay; breathe with me."

Minutes went by, and Joel didn't leave your side until you calmed yourself down.

"It's just-" You hiccuped. "I just feel like an awful mother"

"With Clem?" You avoided his gaze. "Yeah. And also Ellie. Both hate me."

"Don't you dare to say that." He made you look into his dark, warm eyes. "You are the best mother they could ever ask for. Why would you think that?"

"Well... I can't put asleep my own baby - that I birthed myself - also, if I grab her, she screams like I'm burning her." Tears threatened to come again at the thought of your daughter loathing you. "And Ellie... Lately, I feel like a burden when I'm around her. I feel useless; I miss our relationship before I got pregnant. When she used to tell me everything and we cooked together. I feel like I'm losing them both, and I'm scared that-"

Joel called your name in a way that all your bad thoughts vanished. "You are not a burden. And you are absolutely not a bad mother. It is normal you feel that way. I can't imagine all that you have had to be gone through last year. Getting pregnant and giving birth in times like this? That alone is a miracle that you did yourself. And yes, raising a baby and a teenager at the same time might seem like hell, but we will go through it, together" He then kissed your forehead softly. "I've been having this feeling Ellie is kinda jealous or something about Clem, I don't know. What if you two talked tomorrow? Just tell her exactly what you just told me. She might be kinda bratty, but she is mature enough to understand what you're going through. I'm sure. And about little Clem, let me take care of her this week. You need to rest and before caring about others, you need to care about yourself first. If you're okay, we will be okay."

Tears rolled again in your cheeks, and Joel dried up every single one of them. "Please, don't ever think again any of those awful things. You are marvelous, angel." You then smiled, stealing a kiss from those lips you loved so dearly.

#joel miller angst #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

490 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 3 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As your school year fades into summer break, your wedding day approaches. Before your fourth graders move to fifth grade, you and Bradley invite the pen pals along for the big day.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

That summer...

"The best part about our wedding venue is that it's free," you whispered. "The worst part is that we had to clean it ourselves."

"Agreed," Bradley replied with a groan.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally, and now you were sprawled out mostly on top of Bradley on the living room couch which was too small even for him alone. His big hand was heavy where it rested on your back, and his voice was a deep rumble in his chest.

"But on Saturday, we'll be married. So it's worth it."

His words warmed you as you snuggled a little closer. Both of you could use a shower after the day you had, but you didn't even make it that far yet. As soon as you walked inside, this is where you ended up. You were expecting his stomach to start growling at any moment, and you were prepared to make some sandwiches when necessary.

"It was nice of Nat, Marty and Ruby to help us get things ready," you told him with a yawn.

In a shocking turn of events, Marty and Ruby got married over spring break in Las Vegas after going on just six dates. Actually, when you considered that they probably fell in love the day they met, it wasn't that shocking at all. People told you all the time they were surprised you were marrying Bradley a year after you blindly mailed a box to an unknown Naval aviator, but to you, it all felt exactly right.

"Marty was like a wizard with that scrub brush today. I don't think there's anything he can't do," Bradley said, mirroring your yawn with one of his own. "Are all of your kiddos coming on Saturday?"

"Mmm... most of them, yeah. And don't forget, you have to drive Edith up with you."

"I won't forget. She's a pretty integral part to our day, Gorgeous," he muttered, and sure enough his stomach began to rumble. "Damn, I was hoping I'd make it to the shower with you first." He gave your rear end a squeeze. "I haven't seen you naked since this morning."

You groaned and started to ease your body away from him and stood. "You'll see plenty of that when we're in Paris."

"I better," he replied, one eyebrow cocked as he examined you in your filthy old jeans and one of his ratty undershirts. "You look damn good, Mrs. Bradshaw. You'll need a new name tag for your classroom door when school starts in August."

Your fingers dragged through his wavy hair before tracing the scars on his cheek. "If I change my name." A little pout appeared on his lips, and you leaned down to kiss it away. "Come on and have a sandwich before we get cleaned up, Handsome."

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

Bradley had much less responsibility on Saturday than you did. He had to put on his dress whites, fix his hair, and drive Edith up to Mira Mesa with him. You on the other hand left with Natasha first thing in the morning after demanding Bradley not even look at you. Apparently that was bad luck, but he'd already been watching you sleep peacefully when he woke around dawn before falling asleep again.

He wasn't exactly nervous about the wedding, but he was a little anxious. He wanted to get married and settle into things before your school year started. And before he left again for deployment. You always seemed to have more patience for his career than he did, but he wanted to be selfish and have some time at home while he was still a newlywed. And that didn't even account for the upcoming week in Paris.

While he was in the bathroom, running his fingers through his damp hair, Bradley examined his freshly shaven cheeks. Sometimes he forgot about his facial scars. You always looked at him like he was flawless, and now it rarely occurred to him to be overly self conscious about it. But they were there, and you had kissed all over them last night before bed while you teased him about what you wrote for your wedding vows.

He didn't bother to write his down. What would be the point in that? He could hardly ever shut up about how much he loved you, so he would just say what was on his mind when the time came. The ceremony was going to be quick anyway since Marty was officiating. Bradley could tell the reserved, older man only agreed to do it for the sake of friendship, and you told him he could keep it very short.

As he pulled his white uniform on, Bradley smiled, knowing he'd have you back in bed this evening before leaving insanely early to go to the airport in the morning. When be was all set, he grabbed the wedding bands from the dresser, and headed over to get Edith.

She was wearing a purple dress and had her sheet music with her, and Bradley realized that other than Nat, she was the closest thing to a family member that he would have with him today. "Thanks for coming up to Mira Mesa, Edith," he said, opening the passenger door of his Bronco for her.

She looked delighted. "It's my pleasure. I'm just so pleased you asked me to be there. And you look so handsome, Bradley. And very happy."

He was happy. So fucking happy. And that was the bottom line. He was too busy being happy to think about his scars or worry about reading his wedding vows from a piece of paper. He fell in love with you through notes, emails and letters, but today he was going off script.

"I am happy, Edith. Happier than I ever expected to be."

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

"God, you look like a dream," Natasha gushed, fluffing out the bottom of your simple wedding dress before adjusting the straps along your shoulders. "Your makeup is beautiful, and your hair is perfect. Bradley is going to piss his pants when he sees you."

"Hopefully not while he's in his dress whites," you replied, making her crack up while she took a step back to inspect you one last time.

She planted her hands on her hips in her cute, green dress. "This is going to be the perfect wedding. A quick ceremony followed by spaghetti and meatballs catered from the best restaurant in San Diego. This is how everyone should get married."

"I told Marty the ceremony needs to be quick, because Bradley's stomach will growl the whole time otherwise. I don't like it when he has to go too long without eating," you murmured, looking down at the fabric that cascaded along your new shoes. When you looked up again, Natasha was leaning with one shoulder against the brick exterior of your elementary school and wiping tears from her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered, shaking her head and sniffing. "It's just that you get him. You understand him." She took a deep breath and added, "Bradley seems big and boisterous, but he's actually really sensitive. And he needs someone to look after him and make sure he eats enough. That's the kind of shit he needs. Not someone who is always mad at him for having feelings. He needs you, because you love him back as much as he loves you."

"Natasha," you gasped, reaching for her as tears stung your eyes. She had known Bradley for so many years, and her words made your heart swell with even more happiness. "I do love him. So much," you whispered as she squeezed you tight.

Then you heard the sound of a piano playing in the distance and knew you needed to start walking toward the playground. "Take care of him. And let him take care of you," Natasha said.

She wiped her tears on her sleeve as she gently guided you across the asphalt and handed you a bouquet of flowers. Your wedding vows were folded up into a paper airplane amongst the blooms that came from the florist Bradley used for your surprise bouquet when he was last deployed. Your heart beat a little faster as Natasha headed away from you and turned at the corner of the building, and then it was your turn to start walking.

The first thing you saw was the parking lot where Bradley's Bronco sat next to the Salvatore's catering van. Then the small, outdoor lunch pavilion came into view, which Ruby spent the morning decorating with fresh flowers, paper airplanes, and the fanciest disposable tableware you could find. Then you saw all of the kids from your class last year, and you smiled as they all waved and shouted your name.

But when you finally saw the playground equipment, Bradley was standing there in his dress whites surrounded by his friends and your friends and Maverick and Ruby. And his smile was so bright as you ran to him while Edith played the piano in the auditorium with all the windows open. It was a medley of love songs, but none of them compared to the love you felt when you were in Bradley's arms.

"Hey, Gorgeous," he whispered, scooping you up when you reached him, crushing the flowers between your body and his. "You look so pretty."

His dress whites were a bit scratchy against your skin, and this was the only time you'd seen him wearing them other than that one night last month that turned into some role playing after he tried them on. He always took your breath away. Since the first moment he wrote back to your letter, you just wanted more of him. You couldn't help but kiss him.

"Oh no!" Violet gasped. "You're supposed to do that at the end!"

Bradley laughed against your lips, and you turned your head to really take a good look at all the kids. They were all there with parents, some of whom had been at Career Day. And they were dressed up and looked adorable. You were going to miss them next year when they were in fifth grade.

"I promise we'll do it again at the end," Bradley laughed, his voice a deep rumble against your palm.

Then the piano music came to a stop, and Edith came shuffling outside as Marty introduced himself to everyone.

"I'm sure the kids all remember you, Marty," you assured him. "You were the coolest adult at Career Day."

"Hey," Bradley complained as he tried to straighten out your flowers.

"I meant second coolest adult at Career Day," you amended, and now both Marty and Bradley were smiling.

"Well, regardless, you told me to keep this quick," Marty said. You could already smell the spaghetti and knew for sure Bradley was hungry. "So quick it shall be." He cleared his throat and said, "I'm pretty sure I knew Lieutenant Bradshaw was in love before he knew it himself. I've overlapped with him on several deployments over the past eight years, and he always seemed a little bit lonely." You laced your fingers with Bradley's and leaned against his shoulder as Marty continued. "Until last year when he asked for my permission to take some photos and videos of me working on an engine rebuild. I told him I didn't mind, and then he divulged that it was for a fourth grade class back in California. My immediate assumption was that he was dating a teacher, but he told me he was just writing to some new pen pals. By the end of that long deployment, he told me he'd fallen for their teacher and couldn't wait to meet her."

"That's the absolute truth," Bradley murmured, his lips pressed to your forehead.

"We helped though," called Jayden, and you started laughing.

"That's also very true," Bradley confirmed. "Couldn't have pulled this off without all eighteen of you."

Marty shrugged. "That's pretty much all I have to say. It's so obvious that the two of you are made for each other. And I'm happy my friend isn't lonely anymore. Oh, and thanks for introducing me to Ruby." He blushed as he looked at his wife who then blew him a kiss. "Uh, so you can probably say some vows if you want to."

"Right," you agreed, handing your flowers to Bradley as you pulled the paper airplane from between two roses.

"Nice touch," he told you as you unfolded it, and he was all smiles when you looked up into his brown eyes.

"I learned from the best." You smoothed the page out in your hands. Your handwriting looked a little blurry as you realized there were tears in your eyes. After you read the few words you'd written from your heart, Bradley would do the same. And then you'd be married. You were almost dizzy with anticipation as you grinned up at him in his white hat which was slightly crooked now. "Bradley. You give me these butterflies in my tummy. All the time. From the very start. At first, I thought it was just a novelty. An extremely attractive man was taking time out of his day to humor me and my students? Butterflies galore." Bradley ducked his head and blushed, and when you reached up to touch his name tag, he met your gaze again. "But then I noticed a pattern. I felt them anytime I shamelessly thought about you. Whenever I reread your letters. When I refreshed my inbox hoping for a little note. When a box arrived for my class. Butterflies."

"Gorgeous," he whispered, cheeks still pink. "Baby, I was falling in love with you."

You laughed when he kissed your forehead again. "I was falling in love with you, too. But imagine my surprise when your deployment was ending and you asked me out. And then you made my students and I a priority the very first day you were back. And you've made me a priority ever since. Bradley, the butterflies don't stop, and I don't want them to."

He nodded. "I want you to have them forever. I promise I'll try to make that happen."

"I know you will," you whispered. "And I promise to dispose of all the spiders for you." He barked out a laugh. "And I will always say your name just to watch you melt a little bit. And I promise to talk aviation to you and always make sure you eat and always say I love you."

"Well, shit," he grunted, then his eyes went wide as he glanced at the kids and back to your face. "I mean, shoot. All of that sounds like everything I want." He cleared his throat, and you took your flowers back from his big hand. "I didn't actually write my vows down, because they are simple. They are never going to change. Sure, we got to know each other by writing and typing out our thoughts and feelings. And yeah, I still love getting a notification on my phone and reading what you sent to me. But nothing compares to hearing your voice. Nothing compares to how good I feel when I can tell you how much I love you in person."

"Bradley," you whispered, eyes and nose burning with unshed tears.

"I know, Gorgeous. It overwhelms me, too. You already have my heart. You own it. Everything I have to offer is yours. I just ask for three things in return." You pressed your lips together to keep from sobbing. "First, I'm so serious about the spiders, okay? If you see one, don't even tell me about it, just make it go away, alright?" You nodded and laughed through your tears. "Second, I need you onboard with movie nights on the little couch forever. I like that you end up laying on me because there's not enough room. I like staying in for the night with you."

"It's my favorite," you whispered. "Let's do it forever. What's number three?"

Bradley smiled and leaned a little closer. "Number three. I just need you to talk to me. However you can. Let me hear your voice. Email me. Text me or call me. Write me a letter or fill up a journal. Anything. All of it. I just need you to talk to me no matter where I am. I'm pretty sure that will get me through anything."

You were nodding in agreement as you thrust your bouquet at Marty and threw your arms around Bradley's neck. When your lips met his, you felt the butterflies. "I can do that," you promised before he kissed you harder.

You could hear your former fourth graders all cheering, and then Marty said, "I guess as far as I'm concerned, you're married."

You were wrapped up in Bradley's warm grasp as he kissed you until Natasha had to say, "There are children present!" When he finally pulled away, you watched his eyes grow wide.

"We forgot the wedding bands." He dug around in his pocket and pulled them out, slipping yours into place right away. "I want mine on, too. Been looking forward to wearing it for weeks."

"I know you have," you told him, lingering on the feel of his rough hand against yours as you slide it on. "It looks good on you. Now, I think it's time for you to have some spaghetti."

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

Bradley moaned as he bit into a chocolate pastry that melted in his mouth. It was buttery and delicious, and about to be topped off by the cup of coffee in front of him. "I was wrong," he grunted.

You looked at him across the cafe table, tucked under the awning and out of the rain that landed on the cobblestone street ten feet away. "Wrong about what?" you asked, brow creased in concern.

He held out the pastry for you to nibble on as he said, "Paris isn't just the city of love and the city of sex. It's also the city of food."

You laughed and covered your mouth as you chewed. "You've had plenty of all three since we got here, Bradley."

"I sure have," he agreed, thinking about all the frilly French lingerie inside the shopping bag at your feet. "And I would really like to have some more of each."

"And here I was concerned you'd miss Thai dinners on the beach and the food at Salvatore's."

"Oh! I should talk to them about putting chocolate pastries on their menu."

"You would bug to go there every day."

"Nah," he said, taking a sip of the best coffee he'd ever had. "Not every day. Nothing beats hanging out on our couch. Now, how many of these should we take back to the hotel?" he asked, holding up the last bit of the snack before popping it into his mouth. He moaned as it melted away on his tongue. "I'm just going to go inside and have them pack up whatever they have left."

"We can come back tomorrow!" you said with a laugh. "We're in Paris for three more days, Bradley."

"I love the way you think, Baby," he replied with a nod. "We'll take a bunch back now, and then we'll come back tomorrow."

When you and he headed out into the rain, he kept you tucked against his side along with the box of pastries and the bag of lingerie while he held the umbrella.

"Looks like there's nothing much to do for the rest of the afternoon," you said casually. "Seems like a pretty good time for you to have more love and sex and food."

"Let's go, Mrs. Bradshaw. I think you have some things to try on for me."Thirty minutes later, all the lingerie you tried on was already removed again, but only after he'd taken some pictures. And now you and he were doing the same thing you'd done at least once per day since you checked into the hotel room which overlooked the Champs-Élysées and the Eiffel Tower beyond.

"Oh god," you moaned, on your hands and knees, naked on the bed. Bradley had his hands on your hips, holding you still so you could enjoy the view of the rainy city while he fucked you from behind. "It's so pretty here," you whined.

"Look at me, Baby," he coaxed, running his left hand complete with wedding band up along your back. He stroked your neck as you turned your head to show him your beautiful face and fucked out expression over your shoulder. "It's Gorgeous."

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

He's such a dream. And he's living his best life! Please stay tuned for a poll and then the epilogue which will complete this series! Thanks for reading! And thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 29

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

528 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 2 months ago

Note

ok hear me out angel, what about reader asking sevika about Isha’s family? Like wondering if they shouldn’t find her family or anything.

Maybe Sevika could open up about her own past with her abusive father and confess that she relates to Isha because she was probably either an orphan or running away from a toxic environment?

idk if you share my vision but I loveee when Sevika is vulnerable.

🖤

god :,) i love this

men and minors dni

as a family, you've all been learning sign language to better communicate with isha.

the girl is young and restless, and she gets frustrated easily when her hands can't keep up with her thoughts. she would rather just use jinx's surprisingly good interpretation of her facial expressions to communicate.

so, none of you are experts yet, but isha is able to tell you all a little bit more about herself the more she learns.

she doesn't know how old she is, but in the mines she was grouped with kids aged 4-6. so she's close to there.

she doesn't have any parents, and she doesn't remember ever having parents.

and when she met jinx, she had made an escape from the mine camps she was raised in, being chased by goons wanting to bring her back. tiny hands are useful in mines. and isha was a for-lifer.

isha explains this all to you slowly, over time, mostly with jinx's encouragement. and living in the undercity, stories like isha's aren't as rare as they should be. so you're all a little numb to the true horror of isha's life before jinx.

it hits you all at different times.

jinx is the first person to shed tears for isha. you wake up in the middle of the night to horrified screams coming from the girls' room, and both you and sevika sprint in, fearing the worst.

it's just isha having a nightmare, but it's still heartwrenching to watch as she sobs and shakes and screams out in her sleep. jinx is the only one who could wake her up, her voice seeming to break through the horrors for poor isha. the girl snaps awake with a gasp, launching into jinx's arms with a relieved cry.

"w-what happened, kiddo?" jinx whispers, her voice shaky.

isha quickly, shakily signs something only jinx can see, and she bursts into tears, wrapping isha up in a hug.

"what was it? what'd she say?" sevika asks.

jinx shakes her head. "'canary went quiet.'" she says, shakily. "she dreamt about the mines suffocating her."

you shiver, and sevika sighs heavily. both of you crawl onto the floor, preparing for a long night of soothing the kids to sleep.

the next person who cries about it is you.

you stumble to the kitchen in the middle of the night in search of a glass of water and catch isha in the fridge, stuffing her face with leftovers from dinner.

"you wan' me to warm that up for you, kiddo?" you ask around a yawn.

isha jumps and stumbles to her feet, her eyes wide and fearful, the food splattering to the floor. sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-- she signs over and over.

you blink. "no-- what? don't worry about it baby, 's just some spilled rice--"

isha bursts into tears and starts tugging at her hair, worry consuming her, you gasp, darting forward and pulling her in for a hug. she flinches just a bit before she realizes you aren't going to hurt her, and your heart shatters.

"isha, baby, you can eat as much food as you want, whenever you want." you whisper into her blue hair. isha moans against you. "that's a rule here. you'll never be in trouble for taking food. even if it's jinx's 'secret' cookies." isha giggles a little at this, and you start to cry, burying your face against her scruffy head of freshly dyed blue hair.

you both cry until isha's stomach grumbles, and then you burst into giggles.

"c'mon. i'll make you your favorite if you help me." you say, standing from the floor and flicking a light on. isha gasps.

blueberry pancakes? she signs with a grin. when you nod, isha darts forward and hugs your legs. thank you ms. baby. she signs. it makes you start to cry again.

sevika's the last one to crack, but that doesn't surprise you.

what does surprise you is how open she is about it.

isha asks about family one evening over dinner. it's got you all a little emotional, the sweet questions she signs.

is this family? she asks first.

a few forks clatter onto plates, and it's silent. isha's inquisitive gold eyes dart around the table, waiting for one of you to speak. sevika looks at you you look at isha.

jinx speaks. "close enough, yeah." she says.

you grin, and bite your lip. sevika sighs.

is there more? isha asks.

all your smiles immediately fall as the solemn topic of more family, alive and dead, is brought up.

jinx sighs. "you know vi, my sister, the asshole cop." she mutters. isha giggles at the curse. "i... had parents. don't remember much of 'em. mostly, i remember the stories vi would tell me about 'em. felicia and connel. they died when i was young. then i had a few brothers and vander... and they died too..."

isha pouts and darts forward to hug away jinx's far away look.

sevika takes over while jinx starts stroking isha's hair.

"then she had silco. and me, i guess." she says with a shrug. jinx smiles a little.

"do you have any family in zaun, sev?" jinx asks.

you reach out and grab sevika's hand, and she kisses your knuckles before speaking slowly.

"i had a dad. we had a... shaky relationship." she says simply. jinx understands this, and she hums with a nods. isha's blinking at sevika with big eyes, listening intently. "he died hating me, i mean we were always feuding. but then sometimes, we weren't feuding, and..." she shakes her head and huffs. "and after that i kinda thought family was somethin' i just wasn't any good at." a few tears fall down her cheeks, and she looks up at the girls across the table.

but look at you, now, big mama. isha signs with a happy smile.

jinx bursts into laughter at the use of the nickname, and sevika bursts into tears.

you giggle and coo, pulling sevika into your arms to let her cry in your shoulder. "'s okay, big mama." you tease.

"s-shut up!" sevika cries. isha giggles, and sevika lifts her face to smile at the girl, tears streaming down her cheeks. "look at me now, kid. exactly."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

#the canary went quiet thing is bc they'd take canaries into coal mines b/c the birds would die if there was too much co2 #and if they stopped singing-- basically they've died u gotta get the hell outta there #also i made myself cry writing this :( ;asldkjf;al #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

348 notes · View notes

fear-is-truth · 5 months ago

Text

slow down ── dilf! peter maximoff x f! reader

⟡ NSFW || MINORS DNI 18+

⟡ TAGS: sexual content ・ fem!reader ・dilf!peter ・ unprotected p in v・ english is not my first language so bear with me・not proofread ・word count: 1,831

⟡ SYNOPSIS: domestic life with peter

a/n: i just finished my assignment for criminal law & wrote this fic with the aid of monster energy. kindly ignore the atrocious writing lol

“Hey kiddo! Bedtime!” Peter called down the hallway. He waited, silence.

“You’re not in bed yet! I’m gonna have to tickle ya to sleep if ya don’t get moving!”

Still nothing—except the faint sound of a stifled giggle. Peter’s lips twitched into a smile.

Game on.

He leisurely made his way down the hall, towards the living room, passing Luna’s bedroom door without sparing a glance.

“Huh, that’s weird,” he wondered out loud, playing it up.

“Where’s my kid? I swear I had one, like, five minutes ago.”

Peter exaggerated his search, peeking behind the curtains and glancing under the furniture. More giggles, and he nearly broke character with his own grin. He then made a big show of scratching his head in faux puzzlement.

“Nope, no kid here. Oh well,” he sighed dramatically. “Hmm, could’ve sworn I heard something. Maybe it’s a mouse. Or a cookie thief…”

At that, Luna couldn’t hold it in any longer. She popped out from behind the armchair.

“Noooo! Daddy, I’m here!” she squealed, bursting into laughter. Peter spun around, feigning surprise. “There you are! Thought I’d have to call the FBI or somethin’!”

Squealing with delight, the five-year-old bolted down the hallway as fast as her little legs could carry her. Peter was on her in an instant, zooming past you with a playful wink before scooping her up into his arms, spinning her through the air.

“You’re getting too fast for me, kiddo,” he grunted, as he carried her towards her bedroom, the little girl squirming in his grasp and laughing hysterically.

You leaned against the doorway, amused by the back-and-forth that had become so routine.

“Peter, you’re supposed to be calming her down, not winding her up.”

“I’m working on it,” he called back, depositing his daughter onto her bed and tucking the blanket around her.

“Fine, but when she’s bouncing off the walls at midnight, you’re the one getting up with her.”

Peter shot you a smirk, showing that he knew exactly what he was doing. He reached down and ruffled Luna’s hair, earning another giggle from her,

“Alright, peanut. Let’s make a deal. One more story—only one—Deal?”

Luna’s eyes lit up, and she bounced in her bed. “Deal!”

“Peter,” you reminded him, stepping into the room with a raised eyebrow, “you said ‘one more story’ three stories ago. She’s going to be up all night at this rate.”

Your husband grinned innocently.

“C’mon, what’s one more story? Just gotta make sure she’s really tired.”

He turned toward the bookshelf, fingers dancing over the colorful spines.

“Which one are we reading tonight? Something super long, I bet.”

She giggled, pointing at a well-worn book. “That one, Daddy!”

He picked it up, settling onto the edge of the bed as Luna snuggled under the blankets. “Alright, one loooong story, but then it’s off to dreamland. Yeah?”

•••

After Luna was sound asleep in her bed, and you’ve done your playful striptease, it was time for you to free Peter from his jeans. In the process of removing his belt, your fingers accidentally brushed the strain in his crotch.

“Mghmm… careful there babe.”

He inhaled sharply, and you indulged in the temptation, gently rubbing him through the denim with your left hand while unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper with your right.

His body pressed against yours, and you felt the soft push as the back of your legs met the edge of the mattress. With a smirk, Peter wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You let out a delighted squeal, soft giggles filling the space between kisses as your fingers clung to his shoulders for support. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed, feeling the heat of his cock press against your abdomen.

“Please, Peter. I want you, so bad.”

And that was all your husband needed to hear. He laid you gently on the mattress before crawling forward, positioning himself to settle between your legs. Breathlessly, you gripped his shoulders and lifted your hips slightly, moving in sync with him as he lined himself up. Peter began to slowly ease himself into you, groaning into your shoulder, warm puffs of his breath tickling your skin.

He paused for a moment for you to adjust, before pushing further until he was fully sheathed inside you. The delicious stretch of your pussy was nothing short of glorious.

“Oh god… Nghmm — Peter,”

You whined, tightening your grip and leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as he started moving. He slowed down mid-thrust to mumble against your cheek,

“Love you too baby,”

Peter rested his chin on your shoulder, placing hot kisses along the column of your throat as he moved, He shifted his hips to find a better angle, and you gasped when you felt his tip nudge against your cervix. Your spine arched and your heels dug into his back as he thrust into with such force that your body slid a few inches towards the headboard, the sheets creasing around you.

“A-ahhh— fuck–”

A strained moan tumbled from his lips when he sheathed himself to the hilt. You can tell by the vein popping on Peter’s neck that he wanted to lower his head, but he was fighting every instinct to keep his eyes focused on you, chocolate irises fixated as you both begin to ascend towards the precipice.

The sight of him, biting his lips and brows furrowed in such concentration made the hot coil in your belly tighten. Supporting his weight on one elbow, Peter slipped his other hand down between your legs, and his fingers—those magical fingers started working your clit almost frantically.

“Please— ohmygod, Peter,”

you babbled, clenching your quivering thighs and throwing your head back when he bottomed out once again. His tip was pressed snugly against your cervix, and you swore you could feel him poke into your stomach, but that did nothing but stir your body into overdrive. You heels dug into his backside, anchoring him as the familiar warmth of his come spurted into your womb. Instinctively, the walls of your pussy clamped tightly around his cock, milking him dry.

“C’mon, baby,” Peter mumbled as he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the mouth, “wan’ you to cum for me, yeah? Cum all over my cock.”

The few seconds between you seemed to stretch into eternity before the coil finally snapped, waves of intense, white-hot pleasure alight your bloodstream as your pussy convulsed around his cock. You placed your palms to either side of his face, his eyes trying desperately to find a part of you to focus on.

•••

Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing a silvery glow over your bedroom as you lay tangled up in each other, legs intertwined beneath the sheets. Peter smirked lazily as he traced a finger along your arm.

“Y’know, I think ‘m finally starting to get the hang of this whole ‘normal life’ thing. Not as fast-paced as I’m used to, but it’s not so bad,”

You laughed softly, nestling your head against his bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“You? Normal life? That’s a stretch.”

“Hey, I can be normal,” he defended with a grin, though the glint in his eyes said he didn’t really mind being anything but. “I did the dishes tonight. That counts, right?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, letting your hand rest on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You stuffed them into the dishwasher in like a nanosecond. Doesn’t really count when you’re cheating with super speed.”

Peter chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Alright, alright. But I still nailed bedtime. Got Luna to bed without any major disasters—except maybe that story where I gave the dragon a Brooklyn accent. She seemed into it.”

“She loved it,” you agreed, smiling at the memory of their earlier antics.

“You’re good with her, Peter. You’re her hero.”

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty awesome,” he shifted slightly, turning to look down at you, his silver hair tousled against the pillow.

“She’s got you to thank for that.”

You met his gaze, fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest.

“Pretty sure she gets most of that from you. The attitude, the energy. The ‘never staying still for more than a second’ thing.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Gotta keep things interesting, right?”

You let out a soft hum of agreement, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you spoke. “Interesting is one way to put it.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence between you, and Peter’s arm wrapped more firmly around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, just the warmth of his skin against yours. He broke the silence with a quieter, more thoughtful tone. “You ever think about how we got here?”

“Where? In bed?”

“No, seriously,” Peter said, fingers brushing through your hair absentmindedly. “Like, the whole thing. You, me, Luna. I used to think I’d never have something like this. Y’know, slow life, family stuff. Thought I’d always be the guy on the outside, just speedin’ through life.”

You shifted slightly to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest. “What changed?”

He shrugged, his smile softening. “You. You changed everything. Made me realise I didn’t have to run away from it all the time. That maybe I could actually slow down long enough to be a part of something.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned up to kiss him softly, the gesture full of the affection you felt for him. He kissed you back with the same tenderness, his hand cupping your face gently as he deepened it, the kiss slow and sweet like molasses. When you finally pulled back, Peter’s thumb brushed across your cheek, eyes locked on yours in that concentrated, yet familiar way. “I don’t say it enough, but I’m lucky to have you. You and Luna. You guys are my world.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through you at the sincerity. “We’re lucky to have you too, Peter. Even if you’re still kind of a goof.”

He grinned, silver hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head. “Gotta keep you guys on your toes somehow.”

You laughed softly, settling back against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a peaceful quiet. His arms wrapped around you protectively, his thumb continuing to brush absentmindedly against your skin. For a while, neither of you spoke, just content to be together. But as you felt your eyes growing heavier, Peter’s voice broke the silence one last time, soft and almost sleepy. “Hey, babe,” he mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Thanks for making me slow down.”

You smiled against his chest, “Thanks for sticking around.”

He chuckled, his grip tightening around you. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

#𝐅.𝐈.𝐓 #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fluff #dilf!peter maximoff #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver smut #quicksilver #x men apocalypse #x men #evan peters #peter maximoff x you

620 notes · View notes