#and hes got his third eye in the middle of his forehead

[cult-of-the-eye]

CENTAUR JONATHAN SIMS FUCK YEAH

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru

satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.

“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”

“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.

it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.

satoru is not handling it well.

“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”

“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”

oh dear.

“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”

“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”

suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.

you think this might be the end.

“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”

“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”

“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.

“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”

“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”

“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”

satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.

you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”

suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.

not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.

“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”

“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.

“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.

“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.

“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”

“hey, leave my hair out of this—”

“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.

suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.

“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”

“he is not—”

“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”

suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”

“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”

you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.

i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already

[bi-writes]

you're cooking when you notice him. you finish dicing the onion on your cutting board, and when you look up, you smile when you see the looming shadow that takes up the space behind your curtains. (mercenary!ghost x fem!reader, 18+)

"hi, spooky skeleton," you giggle, turning around and dropping the onions into the pot. the sizzle warms your apartment, and when you turn back around, you smile wider when he's come out from the shadows, closer, already on the other side of the kitchen island and only a few steps away from you.

he's geared up. vest thick and heavy strapped to his chest, the hood of his rain jacket over his head to further conceal the skull mask he wears. he stands tall, back straight and eyes narrowed, what little you could see of them. you put the cutting board down, twirling the kitchen knife you hold in your hand before holding it out in front of you, putting the sharp tip against the center of his chest.

"slow down there, big boy," you coo. "did you do as i told you?"

he snarls a bit before fishing a phone out of his pocket, tossing it onto the counter. you look down at it, watching the video playing. it's your mark, slobbering in tears, begging for his life. he pleads, holds up his hands, shakes his head, says that he's sorry in every language he knows until there's a satisfying hole in the middle of his forehead, a lone trail of blood making its way down his face. you think it looks like he's crying tears of blood. it's oddly poetic.

you look back at him, meeting his dark eyes, and you draw your hand back, setting the knife down. with your other hand, you drag your knuckles down the side of his masked face, puckering your lips and blowing him a dramatic kiss.

"such a proficient one, you are," you murmur. "what is that? third one this week?"

"want m'prize," he growls, and you step closer hooking your fingers into the collar of his vest and blowing him another kiss. then, you reach for the kitchen drawer next to you and pull it, taking out a thick envelope and handing it to him.

"you're making them very happy, ghost," you tap the plastic of the skull, giggling. "they like you a lot. got time for another?"

he clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side, and you squeak when he reaches down and grips both sides of your ass with two big hands. you laugh, but it turns into a breathless moan when those hands slip under your skirt and tug at the lace of your panties.

"i want the real prize, want wot 'm owed," ghost says lowly. you stand up on your toes, pressing your mouth to his over his mask. you let your hands fall, pressing on the backs of his hands, encouraging him to slip a few fingers under the lace and prod the entrance of your sticky cunt.

"you want it, baby?" you whimper. "do you?"

"yes--" you feel him bite from under the mask, and you stick your tongue out, licking over the line of his bottom lip, your pride swelling when you feel how shaky he breathes as you tease him. "give it t' me--"

there it is. now i have you.

"well..." you press your pelvis to his, rocking against his fingers, and he hisses when he feels the way you soak the fabric of his gloves. he wants to eat it, he wants to have you, he wants what he was promised. "gotta do somethin' for me first, ghost. gotta job for you. can't pay you for it though, not the way you like."

you think you see him smile under the mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling as if he likes what he hears. as if he knows what it is you will give him if he just does as you say.

"y'know wot it is tha' i want, don't you, swee'eart?"

yes, you think, and you respond by giving the front of his mask a kiss, one you think he reciprocates by the way he cradles the back of your head.

i know what it is that you want because...i want it, too.

[chilisworld55]

back home | Carlos Sainz cs55

🌶️ warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), pussy eating, fingering, hickeys

a/n: hey! i hope you like this! please feel free to send me any request, feedback or question or anything! i’m sorry if there is any mistake, i’ll try to improve🫶🏻

It was monday, you had a free day after working over the weekend which has you exhausted so you decided to be in pijamas all day (some shorts and an oversized shirt of your beloved boyfriend). Carlos and you were talking early in the morning, and he wasn’t coming home until wednesday.

You were aware of how demanding your boyfriend’s work is. There’s times in which he is so busy that he couldn’t even come back home in weeks and this was one of those times. He had two race weeks consecutively and unfortunately, you couldn’t go with him due to work.

You were alone at the living room, laid back on the couch while watching a series that you recently found on netflix but after a couple of episodes, your eyes couldn’t take it anymore and were slowly closing by themselves. Next thing, you were sound asleep.

In the middle of the night, you felt a pair of arms lifting you gently on the air, carrying you somewhere else and your eyes were wide open because you recognized who was it. “amor? what are you doing here?” you said as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, face buried against his chest and oh gosh how you missed him, that fresh but sweet scent, his warm touch, pretty much everything about him.

“hola mi amor, sorpresa!” hi my love, surprise! he whispered and planted a kiss on your forehead as he walks towards your shared bedroom. “las cosas que teníamos hasta el miércoles se cancelaron, entonces compré el primer vuelo a casa” the stuff we had scheduled until wednesday got canceled, so i got the first flight home

“i missed you so much… why didn’t you tell me earlier!?” you looked into his eyes as he placed you down on the middle of the bed, parting your legs a little to make room for himself.

“i wanted it to be a little surprise, cariño, and i missed you even more” he lowered himself so his body is on top of yours between your legs, head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist.

You giggled and shook your head. “we’re not fighting about who misses who more, okay?”

Carlos ignored what you said as he took a moment to admire you and feel you, his hands slowly going under your his shirt, fingertips gently tracing over your soft skin. “te ves tan hermosa usando mi ropa” you look so beautiful wearing my clothes he mumbled and started leaving little kisses on your neck.

You blushed and were so sensitive since you haven’t had anything intimate in weeks so even the slightest touch could make you feel butterflies and who wouldn’t with this man?

“Carlos… aren’t you tired…? you’ve been so busy… ah-” you whimpered as he tugged on the gem of your shorts and let it slap back against your skin. then, he slowly lifted your shirt and his trace of kisses continued over your stomach.

“when it comes to you, i’m never tired” he whispered and you couldn’t help but moan, your legs spreading even more as your boyfriend kneeled on the edge of the bed, his lips now attached to the inside of your thighs.

“i couldn’t stand another day without you” he sucked a certain spot on your inner thigh that had you whimpering. “these weeks have been like torture…” he kissed the other thigh, wanting to give both the same amount of attention and wasted no time in leaving hickeys all over them.

“please… no more waiting… i’m right here, all yours” you pleaded, feeling how soaking wet you are getting under those shorts, throbbing for him already.

“are you desperate for me, cariño?” you nodded and he smirked as he tangled his fingers on the gem of your shorts and pulled them down, soon exposing your wet pussy. His fingers found their way to your cunt, using two of them to part your lips and a third one to collect the wetness and spread it all over. “ya veo que me estabas esperando, eh? sin bragas y toda mojadita” i see that you’ve waiting for me, huh? no underwear and all wet

Carlos licked his fingers and got closer to your pussy, giving a long lick to it, big hands grabbing both of your thighs, making sure to keep them apart, those light brown eyes looking up into your souls as he was eating you like a starved man. You were moaning so loudly, enjoying his tongue and your fingers pulling on your boyfriend’s hair each time his tongue brushed of your clit.

“joder, me vas a volver loco” shit, you’re gonna drive me crazy Carlos’ tongue was fucking your tight hole, his thumb tracing little circles on your sensitive bud, he was moaning against you and it sent little vibrations which made the sensation much better and intense.

“i’m cu- i’m cumming… carlos, por favor, don’t stop” please you moaned.

“córrete, córrete para mi, amor” cum, cum for me, love his lips pulled apart to speak but he was quick enough to push his fingers inside and hit all your sweet spots. Your boyfriend’s fingers could not compare to yours, they are much longer and thicker than your own so at this time, you were in cloud nine.

Your walls clenched so hard around his digits, the knot on your stomach tightened and Carlos kept talking dirty to you with that spanish accent that you love. That was when you came undone, creaming and moaning his name, not even caring if it was 3 am in the morning and the neighbors were sleeping.

“mierda…. espero y no pienses que he terminado contigo, cariño” shit… don’t think i’m done with you he slowly stood up with a clear bulge inside his pants, waiting to be taken care of.

[luvjunie]

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

[absurdthirst]

Mother's Day Surprise {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Menstrual blood/cramping, violent attack, near death, surgery, comma, mentions of blood and disturbing scenes, recovery, assistance with basic needs, helping Joel shower, confessions of feelings, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, mentions of family planning, breeding kink, dirty talk, cream pie, infertility, depression, feelings of worthlessness, death, harsh and cruel world, babies

Comments: Helping Joel Miller recover from a horrific attack leads to a life you never knew possible.

**🚨🚨 Contains spoilers for Season 2 of The Last of Us🚨🚨**

A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all those lovely moms out there and anyone wishing to become one in the future. Being a mom doesn't necessarily mean biologically. 💜

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You grunt, squinting as you struggle to see in the dark. It's the middle of the night, the sun not yet peeking through the curtains, and you wonder why you woke up until your stomach twists and you realize you're wet between your thighs. "No. No. No. No." You cry, tears in your eyes as you scramble out of bed and rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You shove your shorts down and sob at the blood that's gathered there. You got your period. Again. You sit down on the toilet and gather some paper to clean yourself up while you try to smother your cries but there's a knock at the door and Joel's voice  resonates through it, "are you okay, sweetheart?" He asks and you choke out, "the bed." Joel walks over to turn the lamp on, his eyes widening at the blood on the sheets. "Oh sweetheart." He sighs, resting his forehead against the door frame. "I'm sorry, baby. I - I am useless." You sob and he rattles the door handle, "let me in." He demands and you flush the toilet, washing your hands before you open the door. Joel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "We will try again." He promises, "I didn't give up when I was recovering and we won't give up now." He assures you while you sob into his chest.

He sighs, not even going to deny his own disappointment, although people who used to know him in the Boston QZ would never believe it. Joel Miller, disappointed that you aren’t pregnant. The very obvious sign of his seed not taking root staining the sheets of the bed you share. He shouldn’t want a child. He’s closer to fucking sixty years old than not, just a few years shy and yet he finds himself wanting to see you round with his child. His second child by blood, his third in his heart. Ellie is staying with Dina tonight, so he doesn’t have to worry about waking her up as your sobs wrack your body. “You aren’t useless.” He soothes, frowning when he remembers your emotional words. Standing in the bathroom, he wishes there was something that he could do, fertility doctors from twenty plus years ago were a thing of the past. Most people do not want to bring children into this fungi infested world, but here in Jackson, he has hope for the future. Hope for a chance to pass on a legacy.

You cling to him, knowing he's disappointed. Lord knows you've been trying enough but you just can't seem to get pregnant. It's like you are cursed and you wonder if Joel's injuries hurt your chances.

****

You gasp when you look up to see a mangled man carried into the hospital. You set your cup of coffee down and stand up, the resident doctor rushing around to try and stop the bleeding. "What the hell?" You ask and a teenage girl is clinging to his hand as the team try to wheel him into the surgery room. "Joel. Joel. Don't leave me." She pleads, tears in her eyes, and you reach for her. "He's in good hands, sweetheart. Come here. Let the doctor work." You manage to drag her away and she wraps her arms around you and sobs, "I didn't know - she nearly - they nearly- it's all my fault." She chokes and you rub her back, frowning at the doors where the man disappeared.

Hours later, the door swings open and the doctor comes back through, his work scrubs stained with blood. Ellie had been impatiently sitting and leaps out of her seat. “Is he alive? Where is he? I want to see him.” She demands, making the doctor lift his hands slightly. “He’s alive.” He reassures her, making her tense shoulders slump with relief and tears prick her eyes. “There was massive trauma to the head, and-“ Ellie interrupts him. “Of course there is, that bitch tried to beat him to death with a fucking golf club.”

Your eyes widen at the news that he was nearly beaten to death. You wrap your arm around Ellie’s shoulder. She had rambled about how Joel saved her, how much she loves him, how he’s the father she never had. Her words made your heart melt and you silently prayed he pulled through. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery. For now, we will monitor him and see if he pulls through the night. It’s touch and go still.” The doctor warns Ellie who nods, “he will pull through. Joel is a stubborn fucker.” You chuckle and rub her upper arm, “let’s get you something to eat and a shower and we can come back when he’s settled in a room.” You suggest and she’s reluctant to leave but the doctor nods, “he’s unconscious. Will be for a few days at least. His body needs rest. Go get some food and he will be waiting for you.” Ellie nods and lets you guide her to your house. Her home needs to be cleaned up and you don’t want her to see the aftermath of the battle that occurred in her home.

Joel had put up a fight. Furniture is broken, the mirror in the hallway - one he had grumbled about every day when it showed him how old he is - is shattered. Shards of glass and spurts of blood splash the walls. Ellie grimaces and stops at the blood stain on the floor right by the open front door. Obviously no one had cared about closing up the house when rushing Joel off to the hospital. “Right.” She sighs, turning when she hears someone running towards her. “Ellie! Fuck, is Joel alright?” Breathless, Tommy stops in front of the teenager and his face almost begs her to tell him that his older brother is okay. “I tracked her, but she got away.” He explains; that being the reason he wasn’t at the hospital earlier. “She went to the river and I couldn’t track her from there.” 

Ellie straightens her back, shaking her head, “that fucking bitch.” She growls and you answer Tommy’s question. “Joel had surgery. He’s unconscious right now. Still in the air as to him waking up without brain damage. The doctor did the best he could but it…it was bad.” You admit and Tommy closes his eyes, needing to see his brother. “I need to see him.” He says and you nod, “he’s unconscious still. I’m going to get Ellie changed and get her something to eat.” You tell Tommy who reaches out to squeeze Ellie’s shoulder. “Get something to eat, kid. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Tommy promises and Ellie doesn’t say anything else, going quiet. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

You nod, “go clean up. I’ll get started on trying to clean this up.” You tell her and she makes her way upstairs. You sigh, looking over at the pool of blood and you feel sick. You’ve always had a crush on the older Miller brother since he arrived at Jackson, but you’re certain he doesn’t even know you exist. 

****

You check Joel’s pulse, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. He’s still unconscious, has been for a few days, and the hospital isn’t equipped with equipment to test brain function. All you can do is watch and wait to see if he will wake up.

Joel hurts, every inch of his body hurts and it feels like he’s trying to move mountains just to open his eyes. Fingers twitching and he opens his mouth, groaning quietly.

You gasp when you hear him groan, watching his eyes flutter, and you let go of his wrist, calling for the doctor. The doctor comes in and you gesture to Joel, “he is waking up.” The doctor nods, checking Joel over, his bandages wrapped around his head, and they had to shave his head to perform the surgery. You wonder if he will be angry about losing his hair. Ellie is in the waiting room so you head out to see her. “He’s awake.” You tell her and she stands up, “he is. I want to see him.” You shake your head, “the doctor is checking him over. Let’s give them some time.”

It takes a long time to understand what the doctors are telling him, frowning in confusion and wondering why his head feels like it’s been squashed like a grape. Moving is slower and he hisses in pain when he learns that his ribs have been broken and his leg is also fractured. Opening his mouth, it’s hard to get a word out. “E-E-El-Ellie.” He manages, needing to see her.

The doctor nods, “she’s okay.” You escort Ellie into the room, wanting her to see her father is awake, and she rushes over to the bed. “Joel. Joel. I’m sorry.” Ellie chokes, reaching for his hand. He groans as he squeezes her hand, silently assured that she’s okay.” You watch their reunion with tears in your eyes from the doorway.

“D-d-don’t bl-ame y-your-self.” Joel rasps out, still fuzzy on what happened. He doesn’t remember anything much before waking up in the hospital. Although he gets the sense he was angry- desperate. He groans in pain when she lunges forward to hug him, but he doesn’t push her away. 

You watch Ellie hug him and you know in that moment you’ll do whatever you can do to make sure Joel gets better. Ellie pulls back after several moments and the doctor checks Joel’s vitals. “He needs some more time here so we can observe him.” Ellie nods at the doctor’s words and you walk over to rub her back.

“I’m going be honest, Mr. Miller,” the doctor tells him as he pulls back. “I am surprised that you even woke up. There was significant bleeding and swelling of the brain. Tests seem positive but there could be damage that hasn’t manifested itself yet.” He tells Joel. “It’s going to be a long road to recovery for you.”

Joel doesn’t say anything. He was nearly murdered. He knows he shouldn’t be alive right now. Ellie sniffs as she steps back and Joel attempts to squeeze her hand. The doctor grabs his clipboard and looks at Joel’s recent vitals. “Waking up was half the struggle. Let’s monitor you and go from there.” The doctor says, “and we will keep running tests.” Joel grunts out an “okay” and you offer him a smile, “you’re a fighter just like Ellie said. She’s lucky to have you.”

You’re familiar to him, he can’t place it, but his thoughts are still fuzzy and jumbled. “How- how long have I been here?” He asks after a moment. “Three days.” Ellie answers and he frowns. “Who- where have you been sleeping?”

Ellie says your name, “I have been staying in her house. She has been cleaning our house because there was too much blood and - and it was a mess.” Ellie reveals and Joel’s eyes are hazy as they meet yours, silently saying goodbye thank you and you nod in response. “Just focus on getting better, Ellie and I are enjoying some girl time.” You tease, winking at Ellie who chuckles.

****

Joel stays in hospital for two weeks and you look after Ellie, preparing his home for his return, and when the doctor declares him fit to leave, he says that he needs someone to look after him. He still can’t shower by himself, he needs help eating and he struggles to walk alone. It’s going to be a long recovery for Joel. “I can help,” Ellie says without hesitation as Joel sits on the edge of the bed.

“You can’t help me do everything.” Joel grunts, knowing that he could never allow the teenage girl to help him shower or get to fucking bathroom. “I- Tommy-“ his brother has been by to visit every day, and he’s talked to him about taking Ellie. He doesn’t know how he will manage, but he also knows he can’t burden Maria and their baby with his convalesce.

“Tommy is out of town on a scouting mission.” Ellie says, knowing Joel’s brother was set on revenge for his brother’s condition. He just had to track Abby down. “I can help.” You volunteer, feeling close to him despite not having a full conversation with him. Spending time with Ellie, hearing her stories about Joel and his bravery had made you fond of him. “I can help him at home.” You offer and the doctor looks to Joel for his answer.

His eyes slide to you, unsure why you would volunteer to help him, but the doctor immediately nods. “That would be a good idea.” He agrees. “You can check his bandages and make sure that he doesn’t get an infection.” He smiles at the three of you like it’s a done deal and Joel frowns slightly, not sure if he likes the idea of you helping him.

You nod, noticing Ellie’s grateful smile, and you look at Joel, “it’s for the best. I can monitor your health and help you. I’m a nurse. It’s a medical decision.” You tell him and he grunts, knowing he doesn’t have a choice. He’s discharged and you wheel him to the doctor’s truck, knowing Joel won’t be able to walk home. You arrive outside of the house and Joel grunts, “I can walk.” He doesn’t want a wheelchair so you let him wrap his arm around you to guide him into the house. “Take your time.” You reassure him, “no need to rush.”

The shuffle is slow and painful, making him huff in irritation that he can’t move like he would want to. Even as he’s gotten older and been slower, he’s been able to move how he wanted to. Now, in a cast and recovering from nearly dying, he needs help. Ellie jumps forward to open the door and he’s glad to see that the scene that had been left from the attack you told him about has been cleaned away. He will have to thank you for that. “Fuck.” He pants, out of breath and in pain just because of the short walk from the truck to the house. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m getting upstairs.”

“We moved a bed downstairs.” You tell him, “you won’t be going upstairs for a while.” You escort him into the living room and help him settle down on the bed. He’s only wearing socks so he groans as he sits down and you help him lay on the bed. “You need to rest as much as possible. Let me get you some water. Are you hungry?” You ask, helping him settle against the pillows.

“Can you cook better than the shit they served at the hospital?” He grumbles, having not enjoyed the food there. He’s relieved to be home and his head hurts a little bit less today than before. He’s got a plate covering the fractured portion of his skull and they actually had to remove a large chunk of the bone.

You chuckle, “I like to think so. I’m glad your appetite is back. What do you feel like? I make a mean mac and cheese.” You adjust his pillow and Ellie comes to sit down next to him. “She’s a really good cook. Like really good. I’ve been helping make cheese and we even made a cake.” She tells Joel with wide eyes, shocked at how this place is like life in books she read.

“Sure.” Joel agrees, the little fissure of pain at the mention of a cake isn’t as rough as it might once have been. The last night she had been alive, Sarah had wanted a cake desperately for Joel’s birthday. “Make something the kid likes.” He suggests. “I eat anything.”

You smile, liking how he caters to Ellie, and you know that Ellie told the truth about the man she considers a father. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You ask her and she nods, “Mac and cheese.” You ask if she wants to help you while Joel gets settled in and Ellie follows you into the kitchen so you can get started on the food and you pour Joel a glass of water. “You want to take this to Joel?” You ask Ellie who takes the glass and takes it to her father figure.

Joel listens to the sound of people talking in the kitchen and it’s so strange. He can’t make out what’s being said, but he can hear voices. It’s almost unsettling that there is someone else in the safe, cozy home that he and Ellie have managed to carve out for themselves. Tommy told him that Abby, the girl who had attacked him, was the daughter of the doctor he had killed to save Ellie. His past sins were coming back to haunt him, but he doesn’t regret not letting the teen sacrifice herself for a lost cause.

Ellie comes back out to hand Joel the glass of water and he takes it, taking a sip. “Thanks, kid.” He says and she sits down at the edge of his bed. “I- I thought I was gonna lose you.” She whispers, her brown eyes meeting his, “I was scared.” She admits and Joel feels his chest tighten, tears stinging in his eyes. “But you didn’t. I survived and I ain’t going anywhere, kid.” He promises, reaching out to squeeze her hand with his free one. “She been looking after you?” He asks her, jerking his chin towards the kitchen. “Yeah. She’s been great. She cleaned this place up. Made sure I ate and showered and slept while worrying like fuck about you. She’s a good one.” Ellie says and Joel trusts her opinion. You hear what Ellie says from around the corner, some homemade chips in a bowl in your hand and you smile, liking that she trusts you. You carry the bowl in and set it down , “hope these are good. We fried them earlier today.” You say, looking between Ellie and Joel.

Joel’s brow raises and he nods. “Thanks.” It hurts to nod so he just sends you his thanks with his eyes. “For taking care of her and me now, I guess.” He sips the water and grunts when the cool liquid slides down his throat to quench his thirst. “I’m sorry for all the cursing I will be doing.” He warns you, knowing he’s never been a good patient.

You chuckle, “curse away. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” You promise and make your way back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. It’s going to be a long path of recovery but you’re happy to help Joel get back on his feet. 

****

“Shit.” Joel hisses as you help him into the downstairs bathroom to shower. “Do you, uh, I can help take off your pants.” You offer, cheeks burning as you try and help him shower for the first time since he left the hospital.

Joel isn’t a shy man, never has been, but the idea that you have to help him bathe like he is a helpless baby makes him burn with embarrassment. There’s not a goddamn thing he can do about it though, his body is still healing and he can’t get his head wet because of the stitches and staples. “Fuck.” He grunt, hoping he doesn’t really embarrass himself. The fact that he’s not gotten an erection since he’s woken up makes him wonder if something is wrong with that function. “Fuck, what the hell else am I going to do? Shower with my fuckin’ clothes on?”

You shake your head, “no. I- I have to help. I’m a nurse. I am a professional.” You tell him even though that doesn’t hold much weight in today’s world. “Let me help you.” You reach in to turn on the water to heat it up and you reach for Joel’s shirt. “Keep still.” You murmur, working the buttons open. He probably prefers t-shirts but the button down is required so he doesn’t jostle his head. He is still weak so he lets you push the shirt off of his shoulders. “Pants next.” You declare and hook your fingers in the sweatpants, dragging them down his legs  and he’s naked under them so it's easier for him to use the bathroom. He steps out of them and you try not to appraise his naked form. He’s still healing but he’s gorgeous.

“Sorry.” He huffs, knowing that the last thing you want to do is to help an old man bathe, his still bruised body on display. Luckily, there were still medical supply devices like a chair to sit in the shower to make it easier for him, although he knows you will get wet helping him. His dormant cock twitches slightly and his eyes widen at the sensation.

You focus on looking after him and not on his body, which even though bruised, is still beautiful. You know your clothes will get soaked but that’s okay, you don’t want to strip off and make him uncomfortable so you step into the shower and help him sit down on the chair. “Temperature okay?” You ask and he nods. You grab the soap you made last week and hold it out. “You want to do it or shall I?” You ask, knowing you’ll need to wash his face so he doesn’t get his head wet.

He hates to admit that he’s so damn tired after getting into the shower, he just wants you to do it. Grunting, he shakes his head slightly and winces when he feels a little pain. “Just do it.” He tells you, not wanting this to become some kind of pissing match. “Feel like a damn baby.”

You nod, “I understand but this is the best thing for you, honey. You need to focus on healing. You nearly died so being showered isn’t the worst thing in the world.” You put it in perspective for him. You lather up your hands and work on washing his back. He groans and your stomach twists with forbidden arousal. He’s injured, recovering, you shouldn’t feel attracted to him.

“Does it hurt?” Your soft question is almost arousing, murmuring in his ear but he grunts. “No.” His voice comes out raspy and raw. “Feels good.” He’s still so damn sore and your hands on his skin feels like a massage. “It’s feeling really good.”

You continue working on washing him, mindful of his bruises. “Good.” You murmur, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” You say as you massage the soap into his black and blue back. “Tommy tried to find them but they were gone.” You reveal, “they are gone.”

“It’s my fault.” Joel murmurs quietly, closing his eyes and trying to forget the moment he had killed that doctor, but it plays behind his lids. “How could you deserve something like this?” You snort, but he sighs softly. “I killed her father.” He reveals. “He was a doctor, for the Fireflies. They believed Ellie was the answer to a cure.” He opens his eyes, frowning. “They were going to remove her brain.”

You gasp, your hands freezing on his back. "They - does she know?" You whisper and Joel shakes his head. "She can't." You declare, having gotten to know Ellie enough to know that she would sacrifice herself. He nods, "I can't - I lied to her. I can't lose her." He confesses and you rub his back, "you won't. Secret's safe with me." You promise, "you didn't deserve this, Joel. No one does. This world...it's cruel but we have our little piece of paradise here. We just gotta protect it."

Even though he knows it would never absolve him of his sins, your words are a balm to his spirit. Soothing him and making him relax even more. “It’s nice here.” He murmurs softly. “Sarah would love it here.”

Ellie had briefly discussed the daughter that Joel lost on Outbreak Day and you rub his shoulders, “we are lucky. Not QZ, not the Wild West. We are safe and our commune is thriving.” You hum, “Ellie is lucky to have you.” You murmur and he hisses when you press a little too hard, “I’m sorry.” You grab the rag and lather it up, “you, uh, want to wash your -” Your cheeks heat up at the thought and he takes the rag without a word.

Joel washes his groin quickly, gritting his teeth when his long neglected cock starts to stir from the simple touch and the smell of your soap. He has noticed it every time he gets your help to use the bathroom and he is now covered in it. “Help me.” He grunts, trying to push to his feet so he can wash his ass.

You wrap your arms under his armpits, helping him stand and he grunts as he washes his ass. When he’s done, you rinse him off and shut off the water, grabbing the towel around his waist. “You good?” You ask and he nods, “yeah. Just feel like a fucking baby.” You chuckle, “at least you don’t need breastfeeding.”

“Fuck.” He huffs and blurts out, “that would be more fun,” before he even realizes how inappropriate it would be. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He grunts, blushing slightly.

You snort and smile, “I think we are beyond apologies now, huh?” You say, knowing you’ve helped him to the bathroom and now helped him shower. “Let’s get you redressed and I’ll heat up the soup I made earlier for you.” You tell him and grab the clean clothes you set aside for him.

His bedroom is what used to be the downstairs office. It’s got some doors for privacy, but more often than not, they are kept open until he needs to change. It makes it easier. “I didn’t ask, how do you like that bed?” His bedroom upstairs had become yours since they had broken down the smaller bed from the third bedroom. Joel wouldn’t let you sleep on the couch, telling you he could piss in a bottle in the middle of the night if he needed to. You deserved to sleep in a real bed for helping him.

“It’s good. Nice and comfy. I have no complaints.” You tell him, knowing your roommate, Sandra, will be enjoying the peace and quiet on her own in your house. “I hope it’s comfortable here.” You help him pull the shirt over his head and you kneel down so he can  step into the sweatpants.

“It’s a bed.” He’s going to be uncomfortable regardless of where he is because of how badly he had been beaten. The only reason he’s alive is because she had started swinging on other parts of his body besides the head. “I think I’ll appreciate it more when I can move without wanting to cry.”

“Not too long now. You’ve overcome the worst. You’ll get there in the end.” You promise him, “you’ll get better. Ellie needs you.” You pull the sweatpants up and stand up, patting his chest. “All clean.” You smile and guide him to sit on the bed. You swing his legs onto the bed and stand up, “I’ll go get your soup, Miller.”

He watches you go, his eyes dropping down to your ass, not for the first time either. This time though, there is a punch of lust that his body responds to. Making him grunt and reach down to adjust himself slightly. You are beautiful and now that he has spent time with you, he can see why Tommy called him a lucky bastard.

****

You spend eight weeks looking after Joel. Helping him bathe until he can manage himself, feeding him, making sure he has water. It’s your priority and you are so happy he’s recovering well. He can walk properly now and the bruises have faded. “You want some cake?” You ask Joel as he walks into the kitchen where Ellie is trying to lick the spoon of the jam you made to go in the sponge cake.

“God, yes.” Joel groans, the irony of cake not being lost on him. You have been positively spoiling him and Ellie and he hates to think about when you will leave. He’s getting better and it’s about time you go back to your own life. “Are we doing a shower tonight?” The stitches are out, but he still has staples and needs help in the shower.

You nod, “yes, sir. Gotta make sure you avoid a nasty infection. We don’t have any oral antibiotics left.” You sigh, knowing that even if someone found some, they’d be expired. You and Ellie put the cake together and you cut out a slice for each of you. Setting the plate down in front of Joel, you love the way he smiles at you. It’s been impossible to keep your affection for him at bay. You’ve fallen for him, knowing that you will have to return home at some point but the grumpy yet funny man has gotten into your heart.

“Thanks.” He sends you a grateful look and sets his elbows on the table as he waits for you to sit down. “It smells incredible. You seem to enjoy cooking, or is it just something you do because you know Ellie can’t?” He teases, making the teenager huff and roll her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve had a chance to learn, man.”

You giggle and nudge Ellie, “you’ve been learning. You’ll get there. No, I, uh, I love cooking. Always have.” You admit, “I missed it a lot when I was on the outside. Cooking rabbit on a fire isn’t quite the same as cooking in a warm kitchen.” You sigh, forking up a bite of the cake.

“Yeah, campfires are temperamental, and cooking on them is even worse.” He snorts. Ellie chuckles. “When you would let us have them.” Joel shrugs slightly. “It’s dangerous out there.” He reminds her. “Hell, it’s dangerous in here too, but it’s better than out there.” He glances towards the entryway where he had collapsed when Abby nearly beat him to death.

You notice his glance and you realize once again how close to death he was. “You’re here now. Hopefully you don’t have to go back out there anytime soon.” You reach out to squeeze Joel’s hand and he smiles at you, his fork in his other hand, “you are safe for now.”

You have been incredible, and it’s almost amazing to see how you have slipped past the shell of his heart, something that only Ellie has managed since Tess. It’s hard to believe Tess has been gone as long as she has, but Joel has been slowly trying to heal emotionally as he heals physically. Thoughts of you have crept into his waking hours, causing some embarrassing moments in the showers when he gets hard, or you wake him up from an erotic dream that features you.

****

“So, the doctor gave you the all clear. Just to be careful and not do too much.” You smile at Joel as you enter the living room after the doctor left. He had done a full assessment of Joel and called his surgery a miracle - the fact that he survived is a gift from God. Ellie is out visiting Dina and you sit down next to Joel on the sofa, “I guess I can get out of your hair now. You can have your bed back and I’ll go back to my place.” You finish softly, sad to be leaving him.

Joel wipes his hands on his sweatpants, still wearing them out of habit over the past few months. “You’re probably happy as hell to be getting away.” He snorts as he looks over at you and wonders how you have become even prettier than before. He’s crazy about you, how kind you are, how you have taken Ellie under your wing and how you never rebuke him for when he gets sad and introspective. You have helped so much and he hates that you are leaving. “Maybe I need to get the shit beat out of me again, make you stick around.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No need to do that. All you have to do is ask me to stay and I would." You confess and your eyes widen at the way you blurted that out. You close your mouth, turning your head to stare across the room, avoiding those dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry. I-" You begin but he interrupts you. "Stay." You turn your head to look at him again, "what? You - you want me to stay?" You ask, feeling breathless.

He rolls his eyes at your question and huffs. “Do you think that I’m getting hard every time you help me shower because getting clean turns me on?” He asks bluntly. “I’ve been trying to think about anything else but you, but nothing works.”

You stare at him in shock, “I- I can’t believe - I just thought you were horny because you couldn’t jerk off.” You snort and close your eyes for a second. “I think about you. All the time.” You admit, reaching for his hand, “I had a crush on you before I came to help.” You tell him honestly, “always thought you were handsome, but now that I know you? You’re - fuck, I love you.” You confess just as breathless as your prior revelation.

His own breath stops, caught in his chest as you confess your feelings. A year ago, hell - a few months ago, he would have been denying that you felt that way. Ignoring it or being unable to respond in kind because his world was still ground to a halt, but that had changed. You and Ellie, that attack, it had changed things and made him realize that even though he had lost so many, he still had those to live for. He lunges forward and presses his lips to yours. “Love you too.” He murmurs as you gasp.

You can’t believe he’s kissing you but you reach up to cup his cheek, pressing your lips back to his, and your heart is pounding in your chest. You shift closer, cupping his other cheek and you rest your forehead against his when you pull back, caressing his stubbled cheeks. “I love you, Miller.” You smile, unable to fathom that the man you’ve fallen for loves you too.

He's panting and his heart is beating wildly in his chest. Already turned on again and starting to tent his sweats and all you've done is shared one kiss. Reaching up, he caresses your neck and shoulder. "Are you sure? I'm fuckin' old, baby." He jokes. "And a little decrepit."

You shake your head, "you're not decrepit. Or too old. I love you, Joel. No matter what. Hell, if I can look after you like I have and still think you are sexy, you're good to go." You promise with a giggle, sliding your hands down to his chest. "And I haven't stopped thinking about you between my thighs. Inside of me." You confess in a hushed tone.

The kid is off with her friend and Joel groans quietly, having thought of nothing else for the past few days. "I don't know if I can perform worth a shit." He admits with a shake of his head. "Haven't cum since I woke up."

"I don't care. Just want to be close to you." You murmur, "don't care if you cum right away. I can ride you." You want to be close to him, to feel all of him. "I keep thinking about how you'd feel inside of me."

He's still in his downstairs bedroom and he nudges his nose against yours. "Close the doors." He rasps out, nodding towards the French doors that close off his makeshift space. "I don't want to tire myself out trying to get upstairs."

You stand up, hands shaky as you shut the doors and turn to face him. You take in the details of his face, his head shaved from his surgery so his hair is growing back patchy but he’s still so attractive. You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and you swiftly remove your bra. Hooking your fingers in your leggings, you push them down along with your panties to stand naked in front of him. “I’ve seen yours, figured it’s only fair if you see mine.”

"It gets bigger." He jokes, aware that you have seen and politely ignored the times he's gotten hard from you helping him in the shower. "Fuck, you are beautiful." He praises breathlessly, eyes drinking in your body as he licks his lips. It's been a long goddamn time since he's been with someone, the last person was Tess, but he feels like he's about to bust if he doesn't touch you.

“So are you.” You respond as you walk towards him. “So brave. A fucking fighter.” You murmur, shifting to straddle him as he sits back on the bed. His hands immediately find your ass and you chuckle, knowing he’s watched it enough times. You cup his cheeks and lean in to kiss him, “wanna see if it gets bigger.” You joke, grinding down onto the tent in his sweats.

Joel groans, twitching underneath you and he knows he won’t have any problem performing. The problem might be that he doesn’t please you before he cums. His hand slides around your waist to dip between your thighs. Hissing when he finds you starting to get slick as he starts to slowly rub your clit.

“Oh God.” You pant, rocking down onto his hand. It’s been far too long since anyone touched you and you are whimpering at the way his thick fingers rub your bundle of nerves. You tilt your head back and he leans in to kiss along your neck, your fingers digging into his shoulder as you absorb every touch.

He groans as he learns your body. He and Tess had been comfortable, completely familiar with each other and what the other liked. The whimpers and groans rockets his arousal higher as you grind down against his fingers and he feels like he’s going to bust in his sweats. Turning his wrist, he presses his thumb against your clit and slides his fingers through your slick folds so he can press them inside you.

“I want to touch you.” You whimper and he shakes his head, “not yet. Otherwise this will be over sooner than you thought.” He grunts and you rock onto his thick fingers, stretching you out in the most delicious way. “Fuckkkk.” You exhale as he presses his finger against that spongy spot inside of you. He’s good. He knows what he’s doing.

He loves the way you respond to him, how wet you get. Sliding his hand up and down your back as he kisses along your shoulder and down to your tit. Wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your wet heat.

“Shit.” You hiss, caressing his head as he suckles on your nipple like he’s trying to root. It has you quivering and you’re so close. So many nights of imagining how he’d touch you has led to you getting worked up faster than you have ever known. “Joel. Oh God, Joel. You’re gonna make me - I’m gonna-” You don’t finish your cry as you cut yourself off with a strangler choke and clamp down on his digits, soaking them with your cum.

“That’s it, fuck, good girl.” Joel pants against your breast as he pumps his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm. “You’re so goddamn good to me, ain’t ya? You creamin’ all over my fingers, making me harder than a fucking rock.” He coos praises into your skin, enjoying the way your nails bite into his shoulder through the shirt. Your pretty cunt soaked his fingers and he can only imagine how good you will feel around his cock.

His words make you choke on your breath as he works you through your orgasm. You never imagined he’d be so dirty but you love it. “Fuck, baby. Yes. I need - I need you inside of me but I want to suck your cock.” You whine, reaching down to tug on the hem of his shirt, wanting him naked beneath you.

“You can’t.” Joel moans, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t last a minute. And I want to feel you, fuck, imagined it so many times.” He pants, pulling away from the back of the bed so you can pull his shirt off. “Maybe- later, if I can get it up again.” He chuckles.

You pull his shirt over his head, still mindful of his injuries, and you slide your hands down his chest, admiring his broadness. “You’re so sexy.” You murmur, reaching down to pull his cock out of his sweatpants, wanting to see him in this light. You’ve seen his cock plenty of times but now you know he’s hard for you and it’s intoxicating. You pump him and he groans out a warning so you shift to lift your hips, positioning him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” His hands grip your hips harshly and he clenches his jaw as you take him. You are hot and tight like a glove around his cock, clenching around him as your walls flutter. Your ass presses against his thighs and he rocks his hips up. “Fuck, that’s - fuck, gimme a minute.” He begs, feeling like he’s about to cum. “Let me- calm down.”

You nod, stilling on top of him, and you caress his chest. He exhales shakily and you lean in to kiss him, “take your time, baby. I’m in no rush.” You promise and kiss along his jaw, loving how he stretches you out.

It’s been so long since he’s felt this close to anyone, your breath blows against his skin and he shivers. Closing his eyes as he holds you still. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs quietly, aware that this is something that he shouldn’t even have, he should have died. But he’s here and he’s going to live for the moment and bask in the forgiveness of your touch.

You close your eyes at his words, loving how he caresses you, and you tilt your head to look at him. “I love you too. You’re so much more than you think you are.” You murmur, caressing his cheek, and you experimentally rock your hips. His groan makes your stomach clench and you rock again, starting slow as he moves inside of you.

“Shit.” He hisses quietly, opening his eyes to watch as you start to move. “You’re so pretty, so fuckin’ pretty.” He promises as he starts to slide his hands up and down your back. “You feel so good, does it feel good for you?”

His words make your heart pound in your chest and you nod, “feels so good. You feel so damn big inside of me.” You confess breathlessly, “stretching me out. It’s been so long since I had sex. You need to- to pull out so tell me if you’re close.” You remind him, not wanting an accidental pregnancy right now.

Joel grunts, looking into your eyes as he nods. “I will.” He promises. Safe sex isn’t really a thing to be had but hopefully there’s not something to come of this. You are right to remind him. “I’m good baby, ride me.”

You take his word and start to move faster. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you start to move on top of him, moaning at the way he twitches inside of you. "Fuck, you feel so good." You pant, chest heaving as his cock curves just right inside of you.

Joel grunts and leans forward to press his lips to yours, biting your bottom lip after he kisses you. Your breasts brush against his chest and he pulls you closer, craving the feel of your skin against his.

You moan into his mouth, loving how strong her feels, how he’s recovered and he’s stronger for it mentally. You rock down onto his cock, loving the way he twitches inside of you, and you are getting close. Just the feel of having the man you love inside of you is pushing you higher. “Oh shit.” You whimper when you find the right spot and you reach down to rub your clit, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

“That’s it pretty girl, making yourself cum.” Joel groans, watching you touch yourself with dark eyes. It’s so sexy and he can’t get enough of it. “Make yourself cum on my cock. I want to feel it, see it. Show me what you look like.”

You nod, mouth open as you work yourself higher until you finally fall over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as you cum, moaning his name and you clamp down on his cock, soaking him while your orgasm rocks through you.

His eyes roll back in pleasure as he feels you squeezing him and he knows he will be cumming any second. “Sweethea-rt, you gotta-“ he grits his teeth as he jerks your body up off his cock so he can keep his promise to you, panting as he spurts all over his stomach and chest.

You watch him as he cums and you love it. The way he looks is intoxicating and you lean in to kiss him. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him as he pants your name.

He kisses you back eagerly, reaching for his shirt to wipe away the mess so you can lean against him. “Fuck, that was- I can’t even-“ he chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “What do you think about moving in permanently?”

You smile as he looks at you, his dark eyes soft, and you cup his cheeks. “Yes. Absolutely.” Your smile turns into a grin, excited to explore this next step with Joel. “I was dreading going home and I would miss you and Ellie like crazy.” You confess, “I want to stay.”

“Good.” He pauses for a moment and then he admits, “it’s felt like a proper home with you here. Ellie, she loves you too.” He tells you softly. “I think she imagines we are a family.”

“I imagine that too. She’s like a daughter to me.” You confess, “I want to make this a home and I want to be yours. Be in your bed every night. Be by your side no matter what.” You promise and Joel smiles, cupping your cheek, “sounds amazing, baby.”

****

“Joel.” You say his name as he takes a sip of whiskey. Ellie is watching a movie with the other kids in the barn and you decided to cook a romantic dinner for Joel, wanting to ask him something. He looks at you and you tilt your head, appraising him. You pick up your glass and take a sip, your throat suddenly dry. “Everything okay, baby?” He asks and you nod, squaring your shoulders. “I want a baby.” You announce, bracing yourself for him to say no.

Joel freezes, waiting for the familiar ache to take over his chest. For this vision to blur and his breathing to turn into short bursts as thoughts of Sarah take over. As the sounds of her rapid, panicked last breaths fill his ears. It never comes. 

He doesn’t panic at the thought of having a child that could remind him of Sarah. Ellie does in some ways, but she’s a completely different type of girl. One raised in the world outside the safety of the walls of Jackson. If you had a child here, they would be innocent in some ways Ellie was not, more like Sarah. “A baby, huh?” He murmurs after a moment. “With me?” He asks. “I’m nearly sixty, baby. You want that?”

You sense his hesitation and you feel like backtracking but you think about the nights you’ve spent awake pondering this, weighing the pros and cons of having his baby in this world. You reach for his hand, “I know and I still want it. Spending time with Ellie, helping with your nephew, it’s made me realize that I can do it. It’s hard, always hard being a mother, but I’m ready and I want a baby. I want a baby that will carry our legacy, a baby that will grow up safe and capable. We will make sure of it. Unless you don’t want that, which is - it’s fine. I’ll handle your decision. We both have to want this, Joel. Not just me. Don’t do it for me. I want you to want this too and if you don’t, then that’s case closed.” You promise, not wanting to pressure him.

Joel squeezes your hand gently, reminded of the nights he had woken in a cold sweat, sometimes from the broken memories of him being attacked or the memory of losing Sarah. You have been right beside him, offering him comfort and solace. He’s told you about that night, sharing with you memories that he has kept bottled for over twenty years. You had cried in his arms like you had been Sarah’s mother, assuring him that he had done everything right to try to protect his baby girl. The fact that he’s not immediately said no is very insightful and he bites his lip and watches you with a softness that even a year ago, he was unsure he was capable of. “It’s been a looooong time since 2 AM feedings and my hearing is shot.” He snorts, smiling slightly. “You’ll have to poke me to wake me up if you want me to get up with a baby.”

You smile, loving the way he has agreed to having a baby with you. “You’re forgetting the best part about deciding to have a baby….” You trail off and smirk, “the trying.” He returns your smirk and you giggle, standing up from your seat and you round the table to sit in his lap. “I love you.” You murmur when you’re settled in his lap, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I want you to fuck a baby into me, Joel.”

“Fuck, that’s hotter than I ever imagined.” Joel grunts, twitching underneath you. His sex drive isn’t completely on par with yours, but he keeps up and keeps you satisfied in other ways. You’ve told him you don’t regret being with him at all. Which is another balm on his battered soul. “You want me to cum in that pretty pussy?” He asks, squeezing your ass. “Imagined how you would look dripping me a few times.”

You moan, kissing along his jaw as his words wash over you. “I want you to cum inside of me. Put a baby in me.” You plead, wiggling on his lap. His hair has grown back now, more gray in it, but you love it, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair.

He groans and captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth immediately as the easy passion blooms between you. His hands move to start stripping you down.

It doesn’t take long for you and Joel to be naked. You stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom, clothes scattered on the trail upstairs and when you lay down on the bed, Joel is immediately hovering over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest and his hand slides along your thigh, cupping your pussy. “I don’t want foreplay. I just want you. Want to feel all of you.” You murmur, caressing his shoulders.

There are times when you want the burn of his cock stretching you out and tonight is one of those nights it seems. That’s good because Joel is impatient to get inside you. He takes his cock in hand and pumps it a few times as he shuffles forward to press against your entrance. “I love you.” He murmurs.

He pushes inside of you, stretching you out, and you gasp out “love you too.” He pushes inside of you until he’s fully seated and you take a deep breath, enjoying the weight of his body on top of yours and the weight of the moment. Deciding to take this step together has your body primed and ready for him. He starts to move inside of you and you wrap your legs around his waist, moaning at the way he rocks into you.

Nearly dying hadn’t had the lasting effects that the doctors had feared when Joel had been brought in. His thrusts are steady, if not a little harder than normal, although he keeps the pace sedate. Not rushing, but he enjoys burying himself as deep as he can go and watching your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Gonna knock you up.” He grunts out.

His words make you clench around him, your hands sliding down his back to squeeze his ass. His recovery has been a miracle from the man who was on death's door to the man currently making love to you trying to get you pregnant. You whimper when his lips find your neck and you rock your hips up to try and meet his.

Every time the two of you come together, Joel remembers how lucky he is. His kisses trail along your throat as he groans into your skin. Both of you give and take from each other. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moans, his body tensing when you clench down around him again. “You gonna cum before I fill you up? Love it when you soak my cock.”

You nod, "yes baby. I - shit - you always feel so good." You slide one hand down between you so you can rub your clit. He immediately bats your hand away after shifting his weight onto one elbow. You moan when he rubs your clit just right, his hips pushing into your ass as you take him deep inside of you. "Shit. Joel. You - I'm - God." You cry out as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him.

“That’s it, good girl, goooooood girl.” Joel moans, clenching his teeth as you come apart around him. He feels his own body is ready to cum, excited by the situation and it only takes a few more thrusts. Instead of pulling his hips back, he plunges them forward, embedding himself deep as he paints your womb with his seed. “Fuck, fuck.” He pants, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm, amazed at how good it feels. “You’ll be pregnant in no time.”

You smile against his lips when he leans in to kiss you and you’re so hopeful for the future with Joel. A baby that looks like the two of you combined. You are excited and when he pulls out, you keep his cum inside of you, trying to make sure that it takes. You’ll be pregnant in no time.

****

“Sweetheart….I’m supposed to go ride the southern border and check the area.” You’ve quieted down over the past few hours, but he can still see the sadness lurking in your eyes. You’ve stopped blaming yourself but he knows those thoughts are bouncing around and he’s reluctant to leave you. “Do you want me to have Tommy go? Stay here with you?”

You shake your head, eyes sore from crying, “no baby. Just go. I’ll be fine. Ellie will be back soon.” You murmur, keeping your back turned towards him. You feel useless, you feel broken, and you feel exhausted. You’ve tried so hard to get pregnant. You even researched old wives tales about how to get pregnant. You’ve taken herbs, teas, anything you can to get pregnant and after trying for so long, you’re exhausted.

He worries about you, leaning over and pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible and I’ll make dinner tonight.” He offers. It’s the historical Mother’s Day today, and he knows you will be extra glum since you are once again not pregnant. Sometimes he wonders if he should just tell you that he’s changed his mind, taking the guilt and worry about it off your shoulders. You can blame him for not having a child. “Okay?”

“Sure.” You murmur, closing your eyes as a cramp contracts in your stomach, making you curl into a ball. You really thought this was it. Your period was two weeks late and you didn’t tell Joel because you wanted to surprise him and then you got your period. You sniff and Joel sighs, shuffling out of the bed to get ready for his shift. You can’t blame him. He’s had a kid. It’s got to be you that’s the issue.

He’ll look for some wildflowers for you while he’s out. They always make you smile and tonight, he will do his best to make sure that you know that no matter what, he loves you. He thinks about all this while he puts his clothes on and brushes his teeth, coming out of the bathroom to find you still curled up. “Go soak in a hot bath, baby.” He suggests, walking over to the bed and kissing your cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

You listen to him go and you know it's technically Mother's Day today. Salt in the wound. You swallow harshly and wait until the front door closes before you allow yourself to sob again. You can't believe you aren't pregnant. You've tried so hard. Maybe you aren't meant to be a mother.

Saddling the horse and getting let out of the gates of Jackson has Joel on autopilot. Most often the scouting parties are in groups, but today had been just singles, most men in the community wanting to spend time with their wives and celebrate them. The grass is green and lush; there's a certain beauty to the mild spring transitioning into warmer weather. Urging the horse forward, he is eager to finish the patrol so he can get back to you.

You have your bath, eyes sore from sobbing, and you try to come to terms that you’re never going to be a mother. It’s just not in the cards. You love Ellie and you think of her as your daughter but you wanted a baby, a combination of you and Joel to love and care for in this new world. That isn’t going to happen and you curl around yourself in bed after you’re dry, trying to cope with that fact.

Pulling the reins, Joel listens carefully, certain that he has just heard a cry. His hand goes to his rifle to pull it off his shoulder. Wary of traps or ruses to draw unsuspecting people in, he scans the area. Silence lingers long enough until he’s almost convinced he was hearing things when there’s another, louder cry. A baby. His eyes widen and he nudges the horse forward again. “Hello?” He cups his hand and calls out, wondering if there is a group traveling nearby. There must be, if there is a baby. Mountain lions and things that can sound like a baby crying are farther up in the mountains. Instead of the sound quieting, the crying turns into screaming, giving him a direction to head towards. Joel keeps his rifle up and guides the horse with his knees when he almost stumbles upon the scene. 

“Shit!” There’s a woman lying on the ground, face down with a carrier on her back, a small baby - no more than three or four months old - screaming from the restraints. He scans the areas again, looking for a trap, but there’s nothing moving. The baby's howls prompts him to dismount and move towards the woman, his rifle pointed at her until he reaches them and nudges her with his boot. Wondering if she’s been changed and cannot get to the baby, although he’s never seen one go dormant with a human around and making noise. “Hey…” prodding her doesn’t make her move and Joel scans the area again, the open range not a good spot to plan an ambush, but someone could be hiding in the tall grass. Carefully kneeling down, he grabs a bony thin shoulder and turns the woman enough to see that her gaunt face and shrunken eyes are lifeless. “Shit.” He hisses, looking back at the baby who is almost as bad as the mother. From what it looks like, this poor woman had been traveling to find shelter, food, anything for her and her baby and she collapsed less than two miles from salvation. 

Joel sighs as he sets the rifle down and rolls the body on its side. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, his heart clenching at the reality of the situation, reaching out to close the woman’s eyes before unbuckling the strap for the carrier that is across her chest.

Ellie returns before Joel does and you offer her a smile as she says hello. “I, uh, I made you something.” She says, handing you a piece of paper. It’s a card. “Happy Mother’s Day” it says and your heart clenches. A genuine smile on your face as you realize she made this for you. You open it and tears sting in your eyes as you read her scrawled handwriting. “Thank you for being the mom I never had.” She wrote and you choke, reaching for her. “I love you so much sweetheart.” You pull her close, reminded that you have a beautiful daughter who loves you. “I love you too.” She murmurs, holding you just as tight. The front door opens and you pull back as you hear a baby crying. “Joel?” You gasp when your partner walks into the kitchen.

“Ellie….go to Tommy’s and get a bottle.” He orders the teenager as he starts to pull the baby carrier off his own chest to take the baby out. He had brought the body back, but this baby needed milk as soon as he could get it for her. “I found her,” he explains. “A woman collapsed two miles away from Jackson, she starved to death.” He motions you over. “At least, I think it’s a girl.”

Your eyes widen as he cradles the baby and you reach out to take them into your arms. The baby’s diaper is dirty and you shush them as you walk over to grab an old dish towel from the drawer as a makeshift diaper. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” You coo, unwrapping the baby on the kitchen table and you tell Joel to get a wet cloth. You work on cleaning up the baby, “it’s a girl.” You announce and wrap her in the dishtowel, using the pin from her old diaper. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay, sweet girl. You’re safe and we are going to get you milk.” You promise, cradling her as you turn back towards Joel. “Her poor mother. So close to salvation.” You sigh, shaking your head at the tragedy.

“I brought her back.” Joel tells you quietly, watching as you bounce the baby girl in your arms and coo at her to calm her down. “Hoping something in her bag would tell us where she’s from, what the baby’s name is.” He sighs softly. “I couldn’t leave her out there.”

“Her mother deserves a service, a burial. We must give this little one a place to visit her mother.” You murmur, stroking her cheek. She’s gorgeous, her eyes watching you, and you try to not get too attached to her, knowing that Maria and Tommy will be handling the situation.

Ellie comes bursting into the house. “Got a bottle!” She yells, thundering down the hall to rush into the kitchen. “Tommy and Maria are coming too.” She pants, quickly handing the full bottle of milk to you. The baby is obviously hungry because the second that you brush the nipple against her mouth, she shakes her little head furiously as she tries to get it in her mouth, crying out before the nipple is in and immediately starting to suckle hungrily with great, greedy gulps.

“We will need more. Tommy and Maria have everything for a baby. We - they should take her.” You murmur, knowing it will be hard to hand the baby over but she isn’t yours and the leader needs to make a decision on her placement.

Joel takes one look at the way you hold this baby while she’s eating and knows that’s not what needs to happen. This baby is your chance to be a mother, to feel like a mother. It’s like it was fate for him to be out there and find her today, to bring her to you. “I think we should keep her.” Joel tells you, coming up and laying his hand on your shoulder. “Tommy and Maria have a lot on their plate with one baby already.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him then back at the baby. “We - us - are you - Joel.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you dare to hope that you can keep the little girl. It feels wrong. Her mother just died, but she can’t be left alone. She needs someone to look after her.

The front door opens. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice floats through the house and Joel keeps looking at you with the baby. “In the kitchen.” He calls out. The guards at the gates had kept his horse with the poor woman’s body and he had known Tommy and Maria would come to find out what the hell happened, but he wanted to get the baby here first. Footsteps quickly sound out, two sets of them like he expected and the baby is still greedily sucking away at the milk when his brother and sister in law come into the kitchen.

You look up as Maria walks in, her baby strapped to her chest, and she immediately comes over to see the baby in your arms. “Oh, she’s a sweet little thing. She needs fattening up. Poor girl, her mom was so close to our gates. She needs a mother. You should be her mother.” She says and you stare at her, “are you sure?” Maria smiles, stroking the head of her son. “She needs a mother and you are a more than capable applicant.” She gestures to the way you’re holding the baby. “I- I know this sounds insane but I feel like this is my purpose.” You murmur, looking down at her as she suckles.

Tommy smirks at Joel, who is obviously relieved by the decision. He’s talked to Tommy about the issues you’ve had trying to conceive and wished that there was some way for you to figure out what was wrong, but there just aren’t the medical resources here in Jackson. Joel had even been thinking about trying one of the universities, but couldn’t risk it again. “We both feel that way.”

You smile, cooing at the baby. “Did we find out what her name is?” You ask and Tommy nods, holding up a note that was in the mother’s satchel. “Her name is Hope.” Tommy reveals and you smile, “Hope.” You murmur, pulling the bottle away when she’s done. You shift her to your shoulder to burp her and you cradle her once she’s burped. “She’s our hope.” You declare as you look at Joel and he comes over to wrap his arm around you, looking down at the baby. “Our new daughter.” Joel murmurs, kissing your hair and he beckons Ellie over. “She’s kinda cute.” Ellie says and leans in to stare at the baby. “Hi Hope. I’m Ellie. Your big sister. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Especially about our grumpy dad.” She jokes and Joel chuckles and rolls his eyes. “We will gather everything you’ll need and we will make sure her mother has a proper burial. For now, you guys settle in as a family.” Maria says, stepping back towards Tommy. “Oh and Happy Mother’s Day.” Maria says to you and you smile, “you too.” You may not be able to have a biological baby but you have Ellie and you have Hope. The two girls who have made you a mother.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

"Tell me you're mine" + Carmen, the prompts are soo good

Casual.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmens got a big ass ego

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

You look into his eyes in the mirror, feeling the way his arms tighten around you from behind. His chest is plastered to your back, your legs spread out over his thighs. He’s got you on the edge of the bed, watching yourselves like voyeurs.

“We agreed,” you pant, “that this was casual.”

“Casual?” he scoffs, curling his two fingers upwards and hitting the spot that makes you keen. “Look at yourself, baby. Does that look casual to you?”

You gaze into your own eyes, and try to shy away from it. You’re sweating, hair plastered to your forehead, hips writhing around. You’re not sure if you’re trying to get closer to him, or further away.

“There’s nothing casual how tight you are around my fucking fingers, babe.”

You whine.

“You know what’s not casual? The way I’ve got your come dripping down my hand right now.”

Your hips buck down into his, making him groan into your ear.

“I’ll tell you what’s not casual,” he whispers, low and slow. “The way you took my cock last night like you were fucking made for it.”

Your skin is on fire, nerve endings alight with the way he speaks to you. He’s so unassuming in everyday life, and then you get him into bed and he’s feral. He fucks you like he’s unhinged.

“Casual is not how I’d describe this, honey. Try again and I’ll let you come.”

You look in the mirror once again, and see a wrecked, debauched version of yourself staring back. No one else could break you down like this. You wouldn’t want them to.

“I’m yours,” you cry, back arching as his thumb presses firm circles into your clit. He adds a third finger just as you’re coming, and you writhe like a serpent, only staying upright thanks to Carmy’s strong arm wrapped around your middle.

“Thought so,” he chuckles.

There’s nothing casual about the things he promises to do to you tonight. You’re glad.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Epilogue - Sign of the Times

Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes… 

Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed. 

“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” 

You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…

Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier. 

Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms. 

Oh yeah. 

You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost. 

“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” 

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms. 

“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!” 

Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold. 

Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship.  However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!

liked by verstappen33, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 6,294,018 others

y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱

y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER

box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC

y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming

landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy

y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺

lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY

If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

“CHARLIE!”

The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap. 

The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd. 

When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips. 

“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.” 

A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there. 

For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year. 

But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years. 

You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way. 

You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why. 

You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly. 

“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.” 

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times,  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 

Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.

“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.” 

Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too. 

“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.” 

“I’ll miss you Lew.” 

“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.” 

Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red. 

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 7,295,097 others

y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??

rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!

maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know

charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌

landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨

olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win

formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!

Just stop your crying it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here  Just stop your crying, have the time of your life  Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here

The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it. 

“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out. 

The older man rolled his eyes. 

“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?” 

A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking. 

Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day. 

Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand. 

Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing. 

The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm. 

After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms. 

You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands. 

Arthur just cried a bit more. 

The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family. 

Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027. 

Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on. 

The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own. 

The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself. 

Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words. 

“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.” 

We can meet again somewhere  Somewhere far away from here…

Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle. 

“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight. 

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.” 

During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid. 

Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee. 

You couldn’t wait to gain a sister. 

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍

liked by y/n.89, oscarpiastri, pascale_leclerc, and 7,943,857 others

y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship

maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺

y/n.89 forever is too short

arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity

landonorris gag.

charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz

y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys

landonorris yes ma'am

y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever

We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships. 

The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return. 

Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage. 

“MAXIE!” 

The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics. 

Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur. 

With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.  

Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had. 

The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up. 

“Hey kid.”

You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug. 

“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.” 

Max only looked down at you with a smile. 

“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.” 

“Sure Maximillian.” 

We never learn, we been here before 

Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it. 

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?” 

He put a hand on your shoulder. 

“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙

liked by leclercfam, y/nsnumber1, kellypiquet, and 8,230,185 others

leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE

rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???

charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚

maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it

charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier

y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time

charles_leclerc HA

maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand

y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”  

Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes. 

“Help us.”

Your husband only looked at them with pity. 

“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.” 

Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer. 

Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex. 

“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.” 

Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father. 

“But Max doesn’t!” 

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 

Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly. 

Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing. 

“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal. 

Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.

“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing. 

“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.” 

Max tried to give you a smile. 

“Surprise?”

You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed. 

“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.” 

Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy. 

She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them. 

“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out. 

And Lottie was right. 

Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.

Only four more to go. 

Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here 

You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night. 

You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport. 

The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso). 

Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. 

You looked up at your husband. 

“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?” 

Arthur looked at you with a smile. 

“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.” 

You peered up at him. 

“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.” 

Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours. 

Arthur sighed. 

“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.” 

“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.” 

He knew you were teasing. 

“It is all jokes ma chéri.” 

Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.  

“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.” 

Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles. 

The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?” 

The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.” 

Mark clapped him on the shoulder. 

“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.” 

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know

liked by oliverbearman, logansargeant, y/n&fam, and 9,205,834 others

leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀

y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭

landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?

oscarpiastri and me?

logansargeant and me?????

olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝

y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you

iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends

We never learn, we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets We never learn we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money. 

But you had done it. Finally. 

Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time. 

You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly. 

You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted. 

We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much

At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year. 

You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.

(Yes, even Esteban). 

The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them. 

It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first. 

On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep. 

Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love. 

You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.” 

A quick pinch was given to your leg. 

“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part. 

Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly. 

“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.” 

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, y/n.nation, and 10,583,850 others

y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!

formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ

y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull

maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original

charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull

sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here

redbullracing we love you all equally

y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho

author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden

Will we ever learn?  We’ve been here before It’s just what we know

At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun. 

Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone. 

Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine. 

After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042. 

In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to. 

Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now. 

Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours. 

Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them. 

Because in the end, you didn’t need them. 

A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset. 

“Why are you crying chéri?” 

Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away. 

You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.

“I’m happy, so happy.” 

Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…

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[illusivelle]

chicken scratch

pairing: carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader rating: t (for now) length: 1,028 words content: mild cursing summary: you've never met your neighbour, but you've received plenty of their mail and now, a large package. of all the stories you made up in your head about who this 'carmen berzatto' could be, the real thing might just be your new favourite. a/n: brain rot means a middle of the night word dump. will likely be the first of many little stories about your next door neighbour, carmen, because that dynamic lives in my mind rent free. fluff for now, but we all know what that means (it means it'll definitely become nsfw later, sooner probably). read part two link to ao3 here!

The first letter was a mistake, the second one was a coincidence. The third one was not a big deal and the fourth was only a little more than a nuisance. But when a much larger package thudded against your front door at the ass crack of dawn, the recipient clearly written across the top of the cardboard box as your neighbour… well, that was just flat out annoying at this point. You hadn't even known deliveries made their rounds so early in the day and as big as the box was, when you lifted it to carry next door, it weighed lighter than a feather.

The pile of letters that accidentally found their way to your apartment were usually slipped through the small mailbox of your neighbour's, sometimes under the door. You'd thought about dropping the package and simply going about your day, but curiosity got the better of you as your knuckles rapped against the door and waited instead.

What could a Carmen Berzatto have possibly required to be delivered at this time?

In the time you've lived in the building, there'd been very few run-ins with other tenants. Not that you'd ever complain, perfectly content with your own company. You made friends with one elderly lady who always offered you some of her freshly baked bread, and in return you picked her up flowers and some extra produce on your farmer's market runs. The landlord wasn't your friend, but he wasn't your enemy either, and somehow you'd convinced him to let you paint your bathroom your favourite colour with little to no resistance. But your next door neighbour remained a mystery, one you've conjured up about a dozen different backstories and personalities for.

Carmen Berzatto, notorious criminal, hiding out in a tiny Chicago apartment. Carmen Berzatto, hundred-year-old vampire, who might either burn in the sun or look like they'd walked through a glitter bomb. Carmen Berzatto, part time Chicagoan, who actually doesn't live here anymore and maybe there's a squatter inside instead. Carmen Berzatto, the tax evader, because why else would they have so much goddamn mail being sent to them?

You'd been lost in the web of made-up histories for your neighbour when the door swung open to reveal said neighbour, and it slowly dawned on you that there wasn't a single story where you imagined Carmen Berzatto to look like that.

Piercing, wide blue eyes and a head of shaggy brown tufts that made you want to tangle your fingers through them, especially that small curl dangling just above his forehead.

"Hi." His greeting was laced with mild confusion that seemed immediately alleviated when his attention dropped to the box in your hands. "Oh."

"Hi," you blurted out, lifting the package, "got another one for you."

"I—I'm sorry about— about, uh, about all of that. It won't happen again."

"Won't it?" You were mostly teasing now. Although you were jolted awake by the sound of it thrashing against your door, and although you were rather peeved about getting up before you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to be irritated anymore.

Carmen reached out to take the box from you, giving it a small shake with what you thought was a ghost of a smile before he set it down to the side somewhere you couldn't see. "It won't. I'm sorry." The flirt of his tongue along his lips brought your gaze toward it before you met his eyes again.

Those stunning icy blues.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry for."

"I must've really fucked up on the— the uh, apartment number."

"What?"

"The apartment number."

"Yeah," you looked at him a bit dumbfounded, gaze darting to the door where the number and letter were, "what about it?"

"I—"

"You don't know your apartment number?"

"My writing's shit."

Both of you seemed to blink in unison, another lick of Carmen's lips which you mirrored before a stupid smile curled your lips. "Oh."

"Not a good excuse, I know." He nodded, jaw working as he turned his head to the metal on the door, a short and deep chuckle sounding from him. "Again, I—"

"Not sorry," you shook your head, "just chicken scratch."

For a moment, Carmen stared at you, and if it wasn't bad enough to have those too-blue eyes simply looking at you, to find them nearly boring holes as they danced between your eyes and across your face made you want to evaporate. Made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you hole. Made you want to drown in the depths of the ocean blues that were his irises.

"Just chicken scratch," he murmured after a beat of silence and what was once a ghost of a smile was definitely something now, the corner of his mouth lifting enough to wrinkle the corner of his eye. Enough to show you the dimple in his cheek. "Thanks for— for bringing the package."

"Yeah." And the smile unfurling on your lips was nothing short of genuine. "You're welcome, Carmen."

"Just, uh, just Carm is good. Carmy."

"Okay."

Another beat passed where you thought you might have been rendered frozen by one of your favourite shades of blue, glued to the floor through hypnosis, until a sound down the hall caught your ear and you nodded at Carmen. Turning on your heel, you took the first step back to your apartment, then another, and another.

And it wasn't until you had your hand stretched out to grab for your doorknob when you heard his voice echo from where you'd came. "See you around?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

The moment hung in the air on a thin thread, the both of you sharing furtive and hidden smiles before his door closed and yours opened.

Carmen Berzatto, not a notorious criminal (to your knowledge) or a hundred-year-old vampire (yet). Nor was he a part-time Chicagoan (not with that accent) or a tax evader (maybe). None of the ideas you had floating in your mind about your neighbour even came close to the real thing.

Carmen Berzatto, curly-haired blue-eyed boy-next-door with chicken scratch for writing and a fleeting dimple you wanted to see again.

[moonhoures]

Good To Me

🕷️ kinktober — day 22: overstimulation 🕸️

pairing: wonwoo (svt) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, shower sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pet names (babe, baby), multiple orgasms

word count: ~1.3k

synopsis: date night ends with some overwhelming pleasure

posted: october 22, 2023

Date nights were a weekly occurrence in your relationship with Wonwoo, and you both cherished them, looking forward to them every time the new week began. This week, he had told you to dress up and be ready by the time he got home from work. So you did, all the while wondering what he had in mind for the night ahead of you.

He had came home shortly after 4 p.m, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped in cellophane with a ribbon around it. He greeted you with a kiss, but not before his eyes had raked over your frame with a loving glaze over them. His lips lingered on your lips, giving you a second and third kiss before finally letting you take the flowers in the kitchen to put them in water.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked once you returned to the foyer of your shared apartment.

When you replied with a ‘Yes’, he took your hand and led you out to his car where he held the door for you like he always did. He refused to tell you where he was taking you, but you could tell it was in the city based on where he was driving.

The destination ended up being the new clothing store you had been wanting to go to. The store was just too far out of the way of your normal route, and you hadn’t found time to go to it. So he figured he would treat you to some shopping before dinner, which was at your favorite date spot.

Once your date had come to a beautiful conclusion, and you arrived home, Wonwoo took your shopping bags from the backseat and carried them inside for you.

“Thank you for tonight, babe. That store was even nicer than my friends were telling me,” you told him, unlocking the front door for him. You let him walk in first, gesturing for him to leave the bags on the couch.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he replied earnestly, turning to you with his usual, cool smile. He pulled you in by the waist, giving you a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, “Should we watch some TV? It’s still a little early.”

You picked up your phone to check the time, and it was only 7:30 p.m, “Hm, I’m not really in the mood for TV. Do you want to shower with me instead?”

Of course, your boyfriend didn’t turn down the offer, but you eventually started to regret your decision. Because not even five minutes into your shower, your boyfriend had your back up against the tiled wall, his fingers buried between your thighs. He towered over you with a satisfied grin on his lips as he watched you on the edge of cumming for the first time that night. Yes, the first. Because with Wonwoo, it was never just once. Once wasn’t good enough; it was the minimum.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close. I can feel it,” he egged you on, “Just cum for me.”

You were already a piteous excuse of a person, letting out pathetic moans and whines as his thumb circled your clit and his middle and ring finger pumped into you with purpose. Your hands secured you by holding onto his back and arm, and he loved that every time he went deeper, your grip on him got tighter. The smile on his lips only curled more when your walls squeezed his fingers and convulsed around them, soaking them in your arousal. You were glad the water was lukewarm, because your body was already heating up.

“Just like that,” he kissed a line up your jaw and on your ear, that deep timbre of his making your insides tense, “Now give me another good one.”

Before you could protest, he was sinking to his knees, the water falling onto his lower back as he lifted your leg up onto his shoulder.

“Wonw-oh,” your words died in your throat. Your boyfriend’s left hand held onto the thigh that sat on his left shoulder while his right hand continued working in your cunt. His fingers powered through your first orgasm, and quickly aimed for your second one. Only this time, he added his mouth to the mix, kissing and sucking on your clit. And all you could do was stand there and take it, resorting to watching him. It was actually such a sight to see. His dark hair, wet and sticking to his forehead while the water behind him cascaded down his back and wide shoulders. His brown eyes clouded by lust as he stared up at you, knowing that eye contact made your knees weak (figuratively).

Not even a couple of minutes had passed, but it was already becoming too much. You had no time to recover from your first climax, so your body was tense as it began building up to a second one. The muscles in your legs tensed. Your hands gripped onto his shoulder and in his hair, wanting to tug him away to give you a moment to calm down. He could practically feel your inner conflict of wanting to chase your high or push him off. He pulled his mouth away from your throbbing core—which clenched around his fingers after he abandoned it—and looked up at you with a fake confused expression.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

“It’s too much, I need . . . need a second,” you struggled to speak as the pace of his fingers failed to slow down. If anything, it felt like he sped them up.

“You want me to stop? Tell me to stop then.”

He knew you didn’t want him to stop. Well, you did. But also you didn’t. You didn’t really know what you wanted.

That familiar, cat-like smirk appeared on his lips as he brought his face back between your thighs. And a second later you felt his tongue on your clit again, making your tummy flip. You whined, fingers grasping desperately onto him, attempting to anchor yourself to him as you were moments away from cumming again.

Anyone would tell you that having sex in a shower was not easy, but you were lucky in some aspects. Your shower was way more spacious that most, and Wonwoo took your safety very seriously. He held onto you like his life depended on it, and he was always alert to your movements. Any wrong move could result in serious injury, and that was the last thing he wanted. So he braced his hands on your legs to keep you still as he thrusted his fingers up into you as quickly and deeply as he could. When he felt the gummy, spongey texture of your walls, he knew it wouldn’t be long.

“If you want to stop you need to tell me now,” he spoke with a mocking tone, pulling away from you only a little bit.

“No! Don’t stop,” you exclaimed, bucking your hips up in tandem with his fingers.

“No? But you said it was too much.”

“Wonwoo, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let it out.”

Just like that, you were cumming, the most carnal, primal noises pulling out of your throat. Your insides spasmed around his knuckles and soaked his digits in your creamy essence. Your thigh clenched, moving closer to his cheek. Your lower abdomen tensed as his tongue continued to massage your clit, sending your mind and nerves spiraling. Your hands were weakly attempting to push him away, but the water made your palms slip. You resorted to making pathetic whines and sad attempts at groans of his names. Finally, he pulled away, tongue darting out to lick his lips. You couldn’t believe you had come out of that as calmly as you did. You were also nervous knowing that you would have to go through it a few more times before Wonwoo would be satisfied.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimenightmare @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

[corroded-hellfire]

I've got this image in my head of very pregnant!AYW reader sitting outside with her feet in a kiddie pool, letting the older boys splash around and keep her cool on a hot day. Maybe a cooler full of frozen treats at her side.

I have had this one in my ask box forever because I wanted to write something I’d be happy with and I think I’m there lol. I hope it makes you happy as well 😘

Words: 1.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Of course. The August that you’re seven months pregnant is the hottest summer Hawkins has had in over fifty years. Of course.

Eddie could see how the heat was getting to you. Sweat would dot your forehead just moments after you’d step outside. Your ankles had swollen to almost double the size. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that you were a little more irritable than usual as well. But your husband wasn’t sure what he could do to comfort you. Usually, his way of comforting you included wrapping you up in his arms but the one time he’d attempted to do that you’d given him a death glare that blazed hotter than the weather. He’d learned his lesson after that: no touching when the temperature is above a hundred degrees. 

One early Saturday afternoon, you and Luke are eating lunch while Eddie and Ryan run a few errands. Luke had wanted to go too, but ever since you started your third trimester, Eddie didn’t like the idea of leaving you by yourself. 

It’s quiet between you and your ten-year-old son when the back door bangs open, making you jump and swivel around in your seat–which was no easy task. Perspiration runs down Eddie’s forehead, Ryan’s own golden brown hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture. Patches of Ryan’s gray shirt are black and clinging to his skin from the sweat. If Eddie’s black Iron Maiden shirt weren’t so dark, you know you’d see the same thing on him. Despite how hot and sweaty they both look, they both have smiles on their faces and Eddie looks quite proud of himself.

“I f’ought oo were goin’ to da store,” you say around a mouth full of pasta salad.

“We did,” Eddie said, breaths labored.

“And we set up a surprise for you!” Ryan adds, his beaming grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“And me?” Luke asks optimistically, craning his neck to look over at his father and brother.

“Actually, kind of,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Come on.” Your husband waves the both of you over towards the back door before remembering he should help you up out of the chair–even though you’re capable of doing it yourself. 

The boys both run ahead of you as Eddie stays back with your waddling pace. It feels like no sooner than your bare foot hits the grass of the yard than sweat begins to break out along your hairline. You swear you’ll never complain about the winter being too cold again. 

“It’s small,” you hear Luke say. 

Your eyes catch on the short inflatable kiddie pool set up in the middle of the backyard, two white and blue striped lawn chairs set up beside it, and a large red cooler between them. The garden hose is hanging inside the pool, the green tube writhing like a snake as the water whooshes in to fill the empty space. 

“Cause it’s a kiddie pool, duh,” Ryan replies to his brother. 

“I thought,” Eddie starts, reaching up to rub your shoulders before catching himself, not wanting to make your discomfort worse, “you could sit out here with your feet in the nice cold water. Might help your ankles, too. And you know these two monkeys are always splashing so you’re bound to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Hey,” Luke protests, but Ryan nudges him with his elbow because they both know that their father is right. 

“And…” Eddie takes your hand and gently leads you closer to the chairs, where he opens the cooler that’s nestled between them. Inside there are different flavors of ice pops, ice cream bars, and cold drinks, all enveloped in gallons of ice that have a pleasant chill wafting off them. 

Words become trapped in your throat. Your wonderful husband did all of this for you just because he knows how the heat has been making you feel lately. And after you’ve been a pain in the ass. This would’ve made you emotional even if the hormones didn’t beat you to the punch. 

“Eddie,” you say, all other speech cut off as your bottom lip begins to wobble.

“Uh oh,” Luke whispers.

“No, could be a good thing,” Ryan mumbles back quietly. He was slightly better at understanding the emotional aspect of hormones than his little brother. 

“This is so sweet,” you say, turning to cup your husband’s face in your hands. 

“You’ve been hard at work cooking that bun in the oven,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Oven needs some cooling down though, she’s getting overheated.”

“Ahem,” you hear from behind you. Ryan moves into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head to look at him, sliding your hands down to Eddie’s shoulders as you do. The eldest brother is clearly holding something behind his back, and you scrunch up your brow as you look at him.

“Whatcha got?” you ask.

Eddie huffs out a small chuckle and presses a kiss to your temple before saying, “Ryan found something at the store he says is on every ad for the beach.”

“You bought me sand? The ocean?” you tease the boy.

Ryan rolls his eyes, another reminder that he’s a preteen now. 

“No,” he says. From behind him, Ryan brandishes a floppy hat, and he is certainly right—a woman is wearing one of those in every ad for the beach.

“Ryan, I love it!” you exclaim with a giggle. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you waddle over the few steps to the boy. He holds the straw hat out to you, a bright grin on his face at your happiness. 

“You know,” you say as you accept the hat from him, “I’d bend down so you could put it on my head but then I wouldn’t be able to stand back up.”

“Like crowning a princess!” Luke adds as Ryan laughs.

“Well,” your husband says, coming up behind you, “it’s a good thing I’m taller than Ryan then, huh? Or we could’ve just made Luke help you back up.”

Eddie plucks the hat from your grasp, the straw scratching lightly against your fingertips as he pulls it away. He steps in front of you, and you keep your head level, only raising your eyes to watch Eddie’s pale, toned arms lift to place the floppy hat on top of your head gently. 

“Your Highness,” Eddie says, bowing his head. Your giggle makes Eddie grin as he gestures towards the lawn chairs. “Your throne awaits.”

Twenty minutes later it’s as if the summer heat were merely an annoying insect that you’re only somewhat aware of. Even though the chill water of the miniature pool only goes up to midcalf, sloshes of water have hit you all the way up to your neck. The cool beads of moisture feel like heaven as they meander down your red tank top, though. The denim shorts you’re wearing will weigh a ton later since the boys’ splashing has gotten them so wet, but Eddie’s such a pro at taking your clothes off that he could use a little challenge this time. 

Luke and Ryan manage to find games to play in the small pool—after Luke’s failed attempt at Marco Polo, anyway. Toy boats glide through the water, a few of them on the grass from flying overboard. The two boys shout but they’re outside and having fun, and it’s nice to hear. 

The sound of the back door slamming shut reaches you as you tilt your head back, protected from the sun by Ryan’s thoughtful gift and the sunglasses you grabbed when you got changed. Eyes closed, you listen to footsteps in the grass as Eddie walks your way from the house. They come to a stop and you sense as he crouches down next to you. Lazily, you loll your head to the side and crack your eyes open. 

“How’re my girls?” Eddie asks, placing his right hand over the soaked red shirt covering your baby bump.

“Mmm, good,” you hum. “She’s very happy you bought strawberry shortcake bars.”

“I’m glad she liked them,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “What about you, princess? How do you feel?”

You pretend to consider his question for a moment before speaking.

“Kiss me?” 

You pucker your lips and there’s no hesitation as your husband leans in and gently presses his own against yours.

“Perfect. Now I’m perfect.”

[kjupchurch-xx]

Oh, Baby!

This chapter contains a tiny bit of SMUT.

Hugh and I were expecting our first child, not something he'd planned at the age of 40 or me at the age of 26, but one thing led to another and we ended up finding out we were expecting. Though, that's the kind of thing that happens when you aren't exactly careful, if you know what I mean. Of course you do. Besides that, things were well, we'd just celebrated our second year of marriage, our third year together and he was just nominated People's Sexiest Man Alive.

Flashback to the night of conception:

I laid beneath him as he gazed down into my eyes, his tan skin glistening in the dimly lit room. His thrusts slow, steady and full of passion. With one hand, he was cupping my cheek as my soft moans filled our bedroom. His other hand keeping him atop of me without bearing too much of his weight on me. I could see his facial expressions through the dim lighting, he was letting out soft moans while continuing to make love to me. I could tell he was getting close by the expression on his face.

As he leaned down to kiss me softly, he mumbled against my lips, "I love you, gorgeous." as his thrusts continued. As I reached my orgasm, he climaxed with me, not pulling out as he pressed his forehead against mine, continuing to kiss me with so much emotion, so much love. He collapsed alongside me, pulling me into his embrace, pressing another kiss on my forehead as we slowly drifted off to sleep.

Present Day:

Hugh and I did not know the gender. After suffering a miscarriage last year, we didn't care about a gender, we cared about a healthy baby. However, we did have our names picked out. If Baby Jackman were a girl, her name would be Paisley Grace Jackman, if Baby Jackman were a boy, his name would be Christopher Michael Jackman, which was a nod to Hugh's father, Chris and Michael since it was Hugh's middle name. Grace came from Hugh's rekindled relationship with his mother, Grace.

I was 38 weeks pregnant and my baby bump has already made me double in size. Whenever Hugh wasn't filming, he'd sing, read or even talk to the bump. The baby always kicked at the sound of Hugh's voice, regardless of what he was doing. Hugh was ecstatic to be a father, he even cried when he found out we would be having a child. I spent most of the time wondering what our precious gift would look like, if they'd take Hugh's Australian accent or take on more of my Southern accent.

"Here Beautiful, I made you a brekkie. Pancakes don't cause your morning sickness anymore, right?" He asked with a soft gentle voice, bringing me a plate of the pancakes he'd made from scratch.

I smiled, "No, pancakes are fine now. I've been craving pancakes. Thank you, love." I said, grabbing the plate, devouring the food he'd brought me as he sat beside me.

He started caressing my upper thigh, "How're you feeling today, love?"

I yawned, "I'm okay today, but I've really got to pee. I'm so fat now, I can hardly waddle at this point." I snickered while struggling to get up.

He quickly stood up, taking both of my hands in his, helping me to my feet. "You're not fat, stop that. You're beautiful and you can tell by how much sex we have that I'm still very much attracted to you, bump and all." He chuckled.

I playfully rolled my eyes, heading in the direction of our bathroom to pee for the 50th time that morning. As I stepped into the doorway, I had this immediate urge and quickly realized I did not have to pee. In fact, my water had broken. All over the floor and all over the clothes I had on. The doctor had previously told us once I hit 38 weeks that Baby Jackman could come at any time, so knowing this, we'd planned ahead and had a bag packed just in case. Thank god.

I yelled for Hugh as I waddled my way into the bedroom to quickly change pants. He came rushing into our bedroom, "Are you okay? What happened?" He asked, his voice dripping with concern as he stepped close towards me.

"I um, my water... My water broke. It's happening." I stammered, a panicked look spread across my face. He quickly grabbed the bag we'd packed in one hand, and used his other to carefully usher me to the car outside. He threw the bag in the backseat before carefully helping me into the front seat, leaning down pulling my seatbelt across me. I could feel the contractions beginning at this point. The sharp waves of pain leaving me quivering, eager to get to the hospital to get relief.

He held my hand as he drove us towards the nearest hospital, bringing my hand up to his lips, letting them brush lightly across my knuckles, "We're about to see our baby. I can't wait." He spoke softly.

I wrapped my arm around my stomach as I felt another wave of pain getting ready to rush through my abdomen, "Holy shit, this is fucking painful." I winced.

He caressed my arm, "I know love, it'll be over soon. We're almost there, just hang on."

As we arrived at the hospital, he helped me out of the car, grabbing the bag and slinging it over his shoulder, using his other arm to steady me as my contractions grew stronger. Once he got me inside and I was rushed back by medical staff, he ran out to park the car before coming back up to the room I was being wheeled to, in a wheelchair. Upon arriving to room 232, I was helped out of my clothes and into a hospital gown. The nurses came in with friendly, welcoming personalities and smile plastered their faces to get me prepped and check my dilation before allowing me to have my privacy.

I could feel the tears coming. I was now alone in the room, I was about to push my first kid out, I'm in pain. I'm terrified. I know he's just parking the car, but I'm petrified.

The door to my room swung open and in ran a panicked Hugh as he noticed the tears spilling down my cheeks. "Baby girl, are you okay? Is the baby okay?" He asked frantically, grabbing my face gently.

I nodded, "I'm scared." I swallowed the hard lump that felt stuck in my throat.

He began caressing my face, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead, "It's okay, my love. I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of. Soon, we'll be holding the baby. Our baby." He said reassuringly as he wiped his fingers over the tears streaming my face.

I grimaced as that now familiar wave of contraction pain made its way through my insides. The feeling was getting more painful with each wave that hit.

Hours had went by. My dilation slowly, but surely getting closer. The discomfort and pain I felt has me second guessing if getting pregnant was the right choice. I just wanted the pain to stop. As a nurse walked in, Hugh stood up, standing beside me, holding my hand tightly.

"Mrs. Jackman, it's time to check your dilation. Hopefully we're at the point we can begin pushing." The nurse, who'd introduced herself as Nurse Jackie informed us as she moved the blanket, leaving me exposed to check my dilation. "I'm calling your obstetrician to come down. We'll be ready to begin pushing once he gets here, Mrs. Jackman." She said, removing her rubber gloves and discarding them, washing her hands then walking out of the room.

I looked over at Hugh, running my fingers down my pregnant belly. "I don't think I can do this..." I expressed, my voice laced with fear and doubt. "This pain is fucking unbearable." I shouted while clenching my fists as my body stiffened from another contraction.

He ran his fingers through my hair, "You've got this, love. It'll be all over soon. I promise."

I nodded at his words, slowly closing my eyes waiting for the obstetrician to enter the room. I'd already been given an epidural, but surprisingly, it didn't seem to numb the pain much. Neither did anything else the nurses offered me. About 3 minutes later, the obstetrician entered the room and I immediately felt as if I were going to be sick.

He walked over to me, "Alright Mrs. Jackman, you'll slip your feet in these stirrups here on the bed and we'll start pushing."

I nodded as he guided my feet into the stirrups and got into position to help me deliver my baby. I quickly looked at Hugh, who was standing beside me, at my head with a tight grip on my hand.

Dr. Whitin looked at me, "On the count of 3, I want you to push for me, okay?" He instructed me.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he began to count. Once he hit 3, I pushed hard, praying for relief. Praying for this pain to subside. He did another three count and a nod for me to push again. Still nothing.

After the third attempt at pushing, I looked at Hugh, completely out of breath, tears pouring down my face, "I can't do this. It hurts too bad."

He quickly grabbed both of my cheeks, looking me in the eyes, "You can do this, baby. You can do this. Just keep going."

I exhaled sharply as Dr. Whitin did another 3 count for me to push. I pushed, but nothing was happening. I felt myself slipping into a panic attack as the pain was at an all time high and nothing seemed to be working. Hugh continued running his fingers through my hair, his other hand holding mine. I'm sure I'd damn near been his hand during pushes.

"If the next push doesn't get the baby, we'll need to take you for an emergency c-section. Listen to me, I need you to push as hard as you can. I know it hurts, but we have to do this as quickly as possible, alright?" Dr. Whitin said, sounding a bit concerned.

He held his hand up and began another three count, "Push!" I heard him, the nurses and Hugh yell. I pushed as hard as my body would possibly let me, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I felt light headed. I didn't know if I were going to vomit or pass out at this point. I hear cries filling the room, but I'm too exhausted to move or try to look. Hugh looks at me with tears pooling in his eyes, as he leaned down kissing my head.

"Looks like it's a little girl!" Dr. Whitin exclaimed, holding the baby up  and allowing Hugh to cut the cord before the nurses rushed our baby girl to be cleaned up.

"You did it, mama. She's here." Hugh cried, seeing the sight of his beautiful little girl.

Before I could react, Nurse Jackie came and laid her on my chest. "Look at that beautiful baby. She has a head full of hair!"

I wrapped my arms around the baby that was swaddled in a blanket and looked down at her. She had a head full of dark brown hair. She was the perfect mix of Hugh and I. Perfect in every way. I heard him sniffle beside me, looking down at her.

"She's perfect." He cooed, "Hi Paisley, it's your daddy." His smile was the biggest I'd ever seen it.

I looked up to him, "Hold her." I said, passing her towards him. As he grabbed her from me, his eyes had a glimmer in them that I'd never seen before. Not even from his films. 

He peered down at the small 5lb newborn in his arms, smiling down at her. "She's so perfect." He looked back up at me, "Thank you." He said softly. 

I cocked my head to the side, "For what?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 

He sniffled, looking down at Paisley, "For her. She's everything I imagined she would be." He said softly as she looked up at him cooeing. 

I closed my eyes, resting my back against the pillow. Paisley was perfect. He was the perfect husband, who I'd always known would be the perfect father. I'd fallen into a peaceful slumber overhearing him singing to our daughter as he cradled her.  

[sunnyswide]

Murderer POLY 141 🔪 x Oblivious Female Reader

NSFW/MDNI (sexual activities and sexual themes)

Instead of military.. Why not just a bunch of fucking murders.

To you, it seemed so odd that they would show up at the most convenient of times. Nonetheless, you were mighty grateful for the help. For the quick fix-up on your car. The multitude of groceries you had. The short-lived stalker you never heard from again. The drunken who suddenly approached you late at dusk, but also got taken care of quite swiftly. The fruitful amount of cash that was hidden under piles of junk in the drawer. They were a bit tinted with red… Chalking that up to “Oh I must have put that there” even though you had no recollection.

But to them, it was all fun and games. Who'd be first caught or who'd be the last one standing?

Gaz was just so kind, inviting you to every opportunity for tea or snack breaks. You’re surprised when he tells you he lives at the complete opposite side of town.

“Thats an hour away Gaz! Isn't it exhausting?”

“Not at all, I have work here.”

He lies theough his teeth but hey? Isn't it all lies around here. As long as your adorable mind doesn't realize.. It won't hurt. Just like the many times he takes you to where he resides, eyes staring at the two of you.

Course you’re scared, but he promises it's because they’re not too keen with visitors. Not realizing the multitude of people don't seem to be glaring at you. But at him.

You don't ask questions and go along with it. Letting him lead you to his apartment that seemed to be barely lived in.. But it doesn't matter after he Fucks those pretty thoughts out of your mind. Making you see stars as he finishes inside of you for the third time.

But Price isn't that open. He keeps the conversation entertaining but reveals absolutely nothing about himself as he listens to you talk.

He loves the expressions you make, your lips pouting when you talk about the scary days you had over the week because of some weird stalker.

“I promise! There is someone following me!”

“Then why don’t you let me take you home”

He walks you home every night the two of you go out. The one day he doesn't, you swear you could hear an extra pair of footsteps. Looking around deliriously you opt for a run instead, going through alleyways and shortcuts. Until you accidentally bump into someone, causing you to trip over your feet.

“Gah! Sorry!”

You look up to see Price! He looked shocked at first but soon composed himself, taking your hand in his.

“Dont be sorry”

He smiles gently, kissing the top of your forehead while you burst into soft sobs. You swear you saw something.. Or someone else behind him. On the floor? Maybe it was your imagination..

He takes you home but you beg him to stay the night.

“Can you stay?..”

He holds you tight, pressing his fingers deeper into your hips. This only leads to an excuse to fuck you on his cock as an “apology” for scaring you. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he overstimulates your dripping cunt, making you cockwarm him even after cumming.

But after meeting Ghost and Soap, the perfect self-proclajmed duo, you couldn’t help but find yourself attracted. They were a mix of dark humor and wholesome dad jokes.

They invite you for a quick drink as friends. Friends that sit too close to each other.. Ghost insisting you sit in the middle as Soap drapes an arm around your waist, pouring you more and more Alcohol you didn’t want to drink.

Sooner or later the “fun” was coming to an end as you try to stand up, toppling over Ghost’s lap. They chuckle at your vulnerable state, taking it up as a reason to carry you back home. Of course this attracting other drunken dudes to come up to them asking them where they think they’re going.

“Cmoonnnn, We can all have a piece of that”

Soap smirks.. He was damn happy they even asked.

“Why not gentlemen”

But you didn't see what happened after as Ghost drove you back to his place with Soap after the quick charade. Soap smelled a bit.. Odd.. His hands covered in a.. Red substance.

“Just wine luv”

A few minutes later you sobered up quite quickly, surprised even though you drank so much. But hey no hangover!

And as a thank you they happily ate you out. Getting Fucked by both of them at once felt.. Ruthless. Your clit brimmed with overstimulation as Simon rubbed circles over it and your mouth forced wide open as Soap shoved his shaft deeper and deeper.

You sobbed quietly into the pillow as Soap rammed his Dick into your sopping cunt, relieved for the pounding to stop until Ghost took his time teasing your entrance. Making you gasp..

“Fu..ck.. Wai-wait”

Begging? Uselsss.

He didn't mind you screaming for him to stop. Overestimation turned into torture for your pussy. Brutilized after just one night, you’d had to come back to them for more right?

But it wasn't much of your choice to come back.

Part two

[ch4rrykisses]

rafe would so be the type to purposely turn you on in front of your friends, just to not do anything about it til’ later :((

tw: mature content!! browse at your own discretion :)), exhibitionism (??), almost semi-public sex, rafe being a meanie, semi-proofread

˚⋅. ˚⋅. ˚⋅. ˚⋅. ˚⋅.

just imagine being at a party, some year end kook party before summer starts, and when school ends. rafe, the ever so loving boyfriend he is has been keeping an eye on you all night, making sure you weren’t accepting drinks from strangers, no drugs whatsoever either, he wouldn’t let his pretty angel ever do those, no. not even if he supplied them. didn’t even trust himself.

it wasn’t long after that third drink that he had you clambering on his lap, back against his chest. a little tipsy mess from the alcohol that was ingested. one of his large hands on your thigh, cooling the hot skin with the pretty gold adorning his fingers. had your attention captured to them for a little while. the boy was inching his hand up slowly, much despite you knowing, distracted with talking to topper and kelce about the upcoming golf tournament they were attending. so, it almost looked like he was rubbing your supple skin.

you felt it before you had properly glanced, his fingers dipped nonchalantly under your pretty denim mini skirt. no one else noticed, why would they? wasn’t like he had you splayed open while he plunged his digits in you. no. just a secret display only you and him would know of. he could feel his lips tug into a smirk, the way you had began squirming on his lap the second he came in contact with your panty-clad clit.

you wanted to whine, really, make some sort of noise that indicated you needed so much more than you were getting. but you couldn’t, and you didn’t. moments later, the eldest cameron’s lips were grazing the shell of your ear, making it seem to all the bystanders that you two were having a conversation over the blaring music that was playing.

“y’like that, baby? shit, can practically feel you gushin’ out onto m’hand through those panties,” he mumbled, curtain bangs against his forehead. he was almost speaking through a groan himself. “maybe i uh, maybe i should take you upstairs, huh? think everyone will know what we’re up to then?” he questioned, almost knew he wouldn’t get a response. not like this. when your brain turned to mush all because of what he was doing.

his nasally tone barely registered in your brain, not when the pads of his middle and ring finger were shamelessly rubbing against you. almost as if he wanted to put on a show. but then, out of random, he stopped. dragged those fingers back to rest on your thigh, which had caused a sheepish whine to slip from your glossed lips.

“don’t be fuckin greedy now, a’ight? gonna make do with what you got until we’re done here. got it?” he nudged at your shoulder slightly, partially snapped you out of that haze. cunt throbbing, pulsating with desire and need while rafe sat with that smug look on his face. smirk nearly reached his eyes. he looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response.

“mkay, daddy. whatever you say.” it flowed right out of your mouth with no other regards as to what you were saying. melted right back into the boys chest, though every now and then, a little squirm on his lap was just enough to get that right amount of friction on his khaki shorts against your nub. he was just so mean sometimes :((.

˚⋅. ˚⋅. ˚⋅. ˚⋅. ˚⋅.

[karasuno-planet]

Taking care of you

Kageyama x manager!reader who gets migraines !

warnings: migraine pain, vision loss

wc: 0.8k

summary: self-assured reader gets a horrible migraine and needs help, despite never asking for it. (pre-established relationship w/ kageyama) (fem!reader)

a/n: I LOVE THE HAIKYUU FANDOM SMMMM <333 you guys are my favs. requests open !! and the tsukki academic rivals fic is in the works for anyone wondering...

(gif not mine !)

One thing you had quickly learned while dating Kageyama is that he's not one for public displays of affection. You certainly weren't secret, hell pretty much everyone knew and was talking about you two, but you kept it private. Especially in front of his opponents. That's why it came as such a shock when you felt his arms aroudn you suddenly in the middle of a practice match.

To say you had a migraine that day was an understatement. Three days into the trining camp, in excruciating heat working late to help the team reform their entire strategies form the bottom up— you were exhausted.

But you were used to the migraines. It was something you could handle. The team is already under so much stress, especially Tobio. His sets hadn't been satisfactory, and he was re-learning everything he already knew from scratch. You couldn't imagine the pressure you knew he already felt, so keeping the pressure of your aching head a secret was nothing in comparison.

That doesn't mean nobody noticed, though. Walking into the first practice set of the day, Coach Ukai made a comment.

"Y/n, are you feeling okay?"

"Yes! Feeling good..."

"Okay, just let me know if you need to take a breather or something."

Had you already been exposed? The last thing you wanted was to be a burden on the team, but the floaters in your vision were a bit hard to ignore. And when the ringing in your ears set in, it got worse. Much worse.

By the third set of the day, you weren't faring well. You stood on the sidelines, taking notes on gameplay, when your vision started to black out completely. You widened your eyes to realize you couldn't see a thing. Your head pounding, you focused all your energy on just staying on your feet.

A deep voice yelled out, "Y/n? Are you okay?"

You recognized it as Daichi's voice, "Don't worry Daichi, I'm just fine..."

You heard Asahi chime in, "uh.. That was Kuroo talking...on the other side of the court..."

Before you knew it, Kageyama rushed off the court, running towards you and supporting you with his hand on your back, "Damn y/n, you can't see a thing, can you?" You recognized his touch and sent in front of you immediately.

"I'm okay, really."

"Sure.." he dismissed you. "I've got you okay? Must be scary, not being able to see..." he mumbled. "Can you walk if I support you? Here.." He started slowly helping you walk towards the exit of the gym.

"KAGEYAMA!" Hinata shouted, "What's going on??"

He sighed, looking back at the court, "She gets bad migraines, but she'll be okay, don't worry."

There was a collective sigh and chatter resumed across the volleyball court now that everyone understood the issue. Some players were wishing you well, but you could hear next to nothing with the ringing in your ears.

"I'm walking her to her room," Kageyama declared to Coach Ukai before continuing to support you to walk.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. SUGAWARA, get in there."

Suga jolted into action, stepping onto the court to fill Kageyama's place.

And that's the last moment you could clearly make out before you woke up.

You were laying on your back, a cold towel draped across your forehead and a blanket over your body. Tobio sat on the floor next to your bed, and turned around to face you quickly when you heard you moving.

"Y/n," he whispered. "Here, have some water." He handed you a bottle of ice water and you took a couple sips.

"Thank you..."

"No problem, but, why didn't you tell me something was wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to distract you."

"That's ridiculous, your migraines are serious and I deserve to know."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

You felt his hand slowly wrap around yours, "No, I...I've been so stressed out and mad at myself I didn't even realize what that might do to you. So absorbed in my own world..."

"My migraine is not your fault Tobio."

"Drink some more," he pushed the water towards you, noticeably keepin ghis voice low and soft to not irritate your head.

You took another sip and sighed, "I'm serious. You have nothing to do with it."

"Regardless, I have everything to do with it now. I'm not leaving your side until you're back to one hundred percent, okay?"

"You don't need to do that."

"But I'm going to," he assured you, squeezing your hand tightly in his, "besides, I'm lucky to be your nurse when you've got quite a few people eager to see you..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I don't think those guys have ever whispered in their lives," he chuckled softly, "I told them to piss off until I say you're ready."

"You're the best, Tobio."

"I know."

Before you could even open your mouth to thank him, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and set you back in your thoughts.

"I don't mind taking care of you, you know."

[masterlist]

[f4iry-dvst]

PRETTY SWEET

a/n: guess i’m back haha!

pairing: pussy drunk!Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: No one loves the taste of pussy quite like Chris; he never fails to show you that.

cw: smut, oral (fem!receiving), squirting, mommy kink, sub!chris

“Let me, please mommy, wanna taste you so bad”

The whine that trails off of his sentence makes you giggle in that degrading way you know makes his head mushy, while your hand gently tucks a rogue curl on his forehead back behind his ear. Chris is between your legs, stomach pressed to the mattress as his restless hips grind into the mattress while he thinks you aren’t paying attention and he’s looking up at you with those godforsaken pleading eyes of his that you cannot deny. Of course, you can’t say no to him, he’s your precious, precious boy. That doesn’t mean you’re opposed to teasing him though — sometimes he has to work for it.

You chuckle again at the rustling of the bedsheets from his desperate movement before giving in.

“Of course you can sweetheart”

Chris near enough shouts with joy. That’s one thing you’ll never understand: how he gets such a kick out of getting you off and is legitimately upset if he can’t. You do get it, obviously. Toying with him until dawn breaks is like, better than crack rock; you’ve never gotten so sad when he doesn’t want to be played with though. It’s endearing at the very least: you can’t say you minded how much attention he pays to your pleasure, even disregarding his own for it routinely.

Not even a second later you feel the delicate touch of Chris’s tongue winding its way from your navel to your middle, and that’s when you stop his fun with a tug of his hair.

“But, Mommy wants some marks first, okay? Can you do that baby? Can you claim me from everyone else?

He’s quick to nod, willing to go to the world's end if it meant he got to taste you. It’s not often he finds himself the giver of a hickey; always rushing into making you cum, it’s very rare he stalls long enough for something like that. Chris knows you love them: love being adorned with the bruises and the bite marks, feeling the burn when he gets a bit excited and nips a little too hard or accidentally brushing over one in the morning and being reminded all over again just how much he loves you. He knows. His head just gets a little bit cloudy sometimes, that’s all. You’ll never blame him for that, it’s all your fault anyway.

You weren't sure where he was going to start his assault with his mouth, as he typically chooses your chest. If there’s anything that comes close to his love of pussy, it's boobs. But he’s still between your legs, hands bound tightly around your hips and he doesn’t seem to be moving: excitement was beginning to bubble low in your stomach. Chris’s lips latch onto the pudge of your thigh a beat later, sucking the skin into his mouth like it’s his last meal and letting his tongue swirl to soothe any sting he might inflict. The edges of your mind begin to blur as he hums and whines away as if he’s the one being sucked on; you can practically feel yourself gush at that. He repeats this process a few more times, scattering pink and purple blotches across your inner thighs like they’re his canvas until he pulls away again to look you in the eyes. They’re wet with arousal and need, glistening and oh-so-blue in the gentle light of your bedside lamp. He just looks so beautiful like this.

“That’s my good boy…I think you deserve your treat now don’t you”

He whines pleadingly, rapidly nodding again.

“Go ahead, make mommy feel good”

Well, no need to tell him twice. He’s shockingly slow to it at first: the tip of his tongue dragging through your folds from your hole to your clit, circling the pulsing bud before pulling away to dribble a little saliva on it. His thumb reaches round to flick it – once, twice and then a third, each one making your hips jolt upwards towards his face. You may be in control of him, but that doesn’t mean his touch doesn’t reduce you to a mess of your own. He giggles all sweet like a child with candy, like he doesn’t even know how much all this is affecting you. Of course he does, he just loves playing up on it.

Then, his tongue flicks back out and starts playing with your clit almost teasingly. Chris knows your body like the back of his hand; he knows just how to work you up, what makes you cum and what sends you flying off the side of the earth. This is his area of expertise – as he likes to say – he’s well practised and he can get you there so quickly you won’t even know what hit you. It’s always been so interesting to you how someone so sweet, so innocent and needy could be such a beast between your legs. Don’t get him wrong he still needs your instructions and demands, you’re comforting words and praise, but this is where he thrives.

You don’t even notice when he pulls your clit into his mouth with a suction you could never replicate until he starts letting it go, slow, agonisingly slow and the fire that alights in your veins is feisty. It’s all over every inch of you yet simultaneously all in his mouth and it’s wild how incoherent you’ve become in a few short minutes. He sucks it all back in his mouth again and starts flicking his tongue over the tip, and it’s clear then just how close you truly are already. Your hands are gripped tightly onto the bed sheets, pulling so hard to ground yourself the cover has pinged off of one mattress corner but you don’t have it in you to care.

“Mommy, mommy I need you to cum, please… cum on my face please”

You’re not quite sure why that does it for you. Maybe it was the pleading and whining, or the way he sucks your clit back into his mouth so roughly when he was done begging. Whatever it was, it had you bursting at the seams immediately. You feel his left hand pushing down on your stomach as your pussy begins to convulse and throb, and a feeling hits you that you haven’t felt in a long time. With not even a second to acknowledge what he’s forced out of you, your pussy gushes into his mouth. It throbs harder as you squirt, every muscle in your body pulling tought and your head thrown back deep into the pillows. Chris swallows it all dutifully, moaning loudly into your middle at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

You’re not quite all back to yourself yet when he yelps and cries out your name, but you know exactly what just happened to him. His hips are still pistoning into the mattress when you finally look down, rubbing his sensitive cock through his orgasm like a pathetic dog. You can’t help but coo at him even through your laboured breaths.

“Thank you, baby, you made Mommy feel so good”

Chris whines at that, nuzzling his head into your stomach and grinning against your skin. What a perfect boy.