#anyway I need a coffee bath too

[chalpurnia]

Lupin III part 2 — Ep.133

[deathbyday]

𖥔not so gen. mouthwashing relations headcanons.𖥔˚

Written By: DeathByDay

TW - death, SA.

Includes: Captain Curly, Daisuke, and Anya

__________

Captain Curly

• This man is 100% a sucker for romance

• I’ve seen some people say that they think that he’s one to be into PDA, but honestly I just don’t see it

• Maybe a few pecks on the cheek or light hand holding, but nothing more

• He just doesn’t seem that type of guy to me

• But in private? That’s a whole different story

• He’s all on you whenever you want him to be or not, especially in the mornings

• I feel like he’d love to hug you from behind while you sleep, his nose pressed against the back of your neck while his arms are wrapped around right underneath your chest

• Would 100% wake up first like c’mon he’s literally a captain, he needs to (much to your dismay)

• But while you’re still asleep he’d plant small kisses on the back of your neck to try to wake you

• If that doesn’t work, then he’d leave the room before coming back soon enough with a cup of your favorite morning drink. Coffee, tea, milk, water, you name it

• If you came to him during a bad day, rest assured he’s gonna take care of you

• He’s running a bath with the exact temperature you wanted, laying out pajamas for you, along with towels. Probably would put bath salt in there too (if you aren’t allergic and like the feeling of it)

• Acts of service and words of affirmation are his love languages, prove me wrong. YOU CANT

• You don’t understand how bad he would feel after the crash

• Like he can’t be there for you and you need to be the one taking care of him. He just feels pathetic

• You sometimes make Jimmy let you give him the painkillers. You wouldn’t be as harsh as him, of course. Just gently slide it on his tongue and help him swallow, not shoving or pushing it down

• Anyways back to pre-crash Curly

• I think he would adore it if you ever planted kisses on his cheek, neck, or forehead (or honestly anywhere else)

• If you’re shorter than him, you’d have to grab his jawline and bring him down to your level to properly kiss. Trust me when I say he would never recover from it

• Loves kissing your neck, especially before you two begin the day together

NSFW

• Y’all cannot tell me this guy isn’t the most gentlest man in bed

• Always asking if you’re comfortable, moving at a reasonable pace until you’re ready, praising you for taking him so well, etc

• He 100% presses down on your stomach to feel how deep he is inside of you

• Gives you neck kisses while he praises you

• #need that

• I think he’d end up being more serious than silly

• Although he would occasionally chuckle at your whimpers and moans, I don’t feel like he’d actually crack a few jokes

Daisuke

• Ten thousand percent blushes at the slightest contact. Even from your hand accidentally rubbing against his he becomes a flustered mess

• Adores PDA, he doesn’t care

• But of course if you don’t, that’s fine

• Just hold his pinky finger and give him a kiss on the cheek from time to time and he’s good to go

• 100% does puppy eyes whenever he wants a kiss

• You guys could just be laying on the lounge area’s couch and he would give you those eyes. Obviously you gave him what he wanted because who wouldn’t

• When you cuddle, I don’t really see him having a favorite position. He could be the big spoon or the little spoon, he’s happy with both

• When he’s the little spoon, he’d have his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His head would be smushed into your chest, snuggling close

• When he’s the big spoon, he’d almost always have an arm wrapped around your shoulders while being in a starfish position

• Not to mention the snoring. He snores so loud you can’t prove me otherwise. He would sleep with his mouth open, which makes it even worse

• At first, it was tricky getting used to his snoring. But after a month or two of sleeping together, you couldn’t sleep without it

• Definitely not the one to wake up first. Most of the time, you have to drag him out of the bed to get him up and get ready for the day, leading to him whining and groaning

• Physical touch has this man in a chokehold

• Whenever the two of you actually have to work, he’d be so sad to leave you alone

• But after you two finally met up after, he would blabber about what he did, who he talked to, etc. and you would listen to every detail

• 100% the one to say “gyatt” whenever you pass by him. Even if you have a flat ass he still says it

• If you ended up dying before him, this guy would actually become depressed

• We all know he started getting drunk due to the mouthwash, but that is nowhere near how much he drank when you passed away

• If he ended up dying before you, he would promise you a thousand times while he’s bleeding out that he’d wait for you

• But back to fluff

• Whenever you have a bad day, this guy is definitely not leaving you alone

• He’d cuddle you until you literally explode

• If you were to ever kiss him anywhere on his face, he’d be a blushing mess no matter how light it is

• He genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing and just wings it with you, knowing you’d love him no matter what

NSFW

• He’s definitely a whiner

• You’d have to shut him up by either making out or keeping a hand on his mouth to muffle him

• Soft sex soft sex soft sex

• There’s no way he can take it seriously when you two are in bed. Of course he would try if you were into that, but he’d end up giggling at the end of each sentence

• 100% has a praise kink

• Please tell this man how good he’s doing at keeping you satisfied. He’d be way too embarrassed to do anything more with you if you don’t

Anya

• My poor baby

• She isn’t the best at expressing her love for you, but it’s obvious she loves you so much

• Not very big on PDA, but you do sometimes get a hug or a light peck on the cheek whenever you walk into a room she’s already in

• Will rant to you about how dumb it is that Daisuke won the game in Sorry!. She could honestly go on for hours on end

• You have to calm her down and tell her that it’ll be okay. Never tell her “it’s just a game” because then she’ll get even more upset

• When she found out she was pregnant, she felt terrible. Not just for herself but for you

• What would you think? Assume she’s cheating on you with her assaulter?

• You two were in bed when she finally broke the news to you about Jimmy and the baby. And oh my god you actually almost fought that man

• She had to hold you back from getting up from your spot. After that night, you shot daggers at that man every time you passed him. You didn’t speak to him once, no matter the situation

• You held her in your arms that night, whispering praises into her ear before she finally fell asleep

• Speaking of sleep, she adores being the little spoon while cuddling with you

• Her face smushed into your chest? Your arms wrapped around her, fingers twisting around her hair? It sounded like heaven

• I feel like Anya would be the one to wake up first

• She won’t leave you alone until you did, so it doesn’t take long for you both to be up and ready

• She would mutter petnames against your neck, pleading with you to wake up from your slumber

• 100% makes your favorite drink in the morning and makes it perfect every. single. time

• If you can’t cook, she’ll teach you

• She’s a wonderful teacher and chef. She explains everything to you correctly and soon you actually catch on

• You bake cookies by yourself (under her supervision) and if you burn them, she still praises you like you did everything right

• Whenever you get hurt, even if it’s just a scratch that’s barely bleeding, she cares for you as if you’ve broken a bone

• Both of you are each other’s protectors. She watches out for you, and you watch out for her

NSFW

• She wouldn’t be very talkative, but she would occasionally speak if you ever asked

• Ex: “Use your words, baby.” “Y/N-.. Please..”

• I feel like she’d shed a few tears whenever she becomes overstimulated, or if it’s your first time together

• Let her go as slow as she wants. She’ll eventually become comfortable enough with you, but it’ll take a few attempts

• I’m literally begging you, don’t slam your fingers, dildo/strap, or dick into her. She won’t talk to you for ages

• Don’t do anything harsh while having intercourse. I feel like she’d rather you be soft with her

• She’d be a mix of silly and serious. Drop a few occasional jokes to get her to laugh. But only do that when you two are actually moving at a good pace

• At first, I think she would be serious. If not nervous. But when you guys are finally adjusting to each other, it’s always nice to see her giggle

__________

authors note

I sincerely apologize if anyone was hoping for swansea.. I just couldn’t think of anything for him. Still wanna kiss that grumpy old man though!!

but nonetheless, I hope you all liked this<3

[togament]

i firmly believe that togame is BY FAR the best pussy eater of all the boys and no, i am not taking criticism. you straddling his face with your wet cunt in the morning is his perfect breakfast and judging by the noises he makes it's honestly hard to tell who's enjoying it more. i go will bathe in holy water now kbye.

Anon. YOUR MIND. Let me in for a little bit real quick I’m trying to see something 😳😳! But anyway yes I see!!! I see you!! I see the vision!!!!!! I agree. The man’s an undefeated eating champion. Eating FOOD ok lol puss puss eating champion does work too 😳 *adjusts glasses, stretches back* let me just work on a little somethin’—

𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

“Ngghh—Jo! W-wait a sec-“, you yelp, knees bent comfortably on your pillow with your plump thighs trapped in your lover’s strong clutches as he’s needlessly lapping away at your beautiful, juicy petals like a man starved. “T-the breakfast!”, you manage to add, warning him of the toast that’s definitely burning, your coffee now forgotten. Pulling away momentarily, he mumbles a slow teasing, “got mine right here,” against your flesh before he dives in again once more.

Feeling a sense of weakness in your legs, you stagger slightly and he immediately hooks his arms over your plumpness to secure you. Secure you so you won’t wobble again. To secure your pussy to his needy and hungry mouth. He licks a fat strip up your pussy before he nuzzles his nose into your clit, lapping and lapping at your juices.

Good God. You hold desperately on your bed-frame, knuckles a pasty white. You can feel him smiling into your cunt when you continue soaking his wanting lips. This bitch.

Looking to your side, you can see the sun peeking from behind the curtains—it’s barely risen, the sky a gradient sliver of azure and rust. You momentarily think back on the times he’s shown you how much of an eater he could be. Food, definitely. Never occurred to you he’d be this ravenous when eating you out. Thrown out of your thoughts, your lover sucks and laps harshly at your clit and you let out a delicious moan so loud you’re sure your waking neighbors could have heard you. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you stare down at your lover between your legs.

His eyes are shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. But once he feels you staring, he opens them. Emerald eyes boring into your skin, your breasts and blushing face a delicious sight to him. It only makes him need you more. With another harsh suck on your nub, he mutters, “eyes on me, doll.” and you obey. How could you not? With that voice? Yes sir.

Now you’re there, pinned underneath Togame, legs deliciously spread on your couch so obediently for him. His head’s trapped between your thighs again. The sun’s fully risen now. You both managed to make it to the kitchen to turn the coffee maker and toaster on but he’s got you in his grip as soon as they’re off.

Fingers tangled his hair, you urge him to move, your hips bucking into his tongue and clit bumping against his tall nose. He hums into it, sending shivers and vibrations up to your head you swear you feel high. A mixture of “G-god yes-!”, “You’re so good, baby-“, “right there!” and other expletives escape your reddened lips. You shudder as you squirt around him for the 5th time this morning, gripping at his hair tightly. He hums once more, tongue rapidly working away at you with his three fingers knuckle deep inside you. “Sweet-“, he says with a hungry lick, so annoyingly slow, “s’fuckin’ sweet t’me. Give me more-“ his voice grew a tad demanding, with his grip tightening around your legs he moves against the couch to ease his cock lazily. It’s been hard and leaking ever since you started. “More.” his licking grows more intense, hooking his fingers up to your gummy insides, prodding away at the sensitive bud. Your moans grow louder while he expertly devours you. You don’t want him to stop but you’re so fucking sensitive— “w-wait!! I-“ a desperate plea you mutter, but he manages to rip another one from you. You’re absolutely gushing. He hasn’t made you squirt this much—to soak the couch under your ass. But your lover doesn’t stop. Not until your legs stop shaking. God he’s hungry.

Minutes later you’re both lying there, sweaty and breathless, couch completely soaked. You massage his scalp weakly as he peppers kisses along your soft flesh. Neither of you utter a single word for a good while.

He reaches over to your side to grab some tissues to clean you up with. He pauses when he feels something hard hit his hand. He almost feels apologetic when he knew what it was.

He grabs a familiar bottle. Opening it, he squeezes a healthy amount of it on your still sensitive cunt and your inner thighs.

Flavored lube.

Your eyes widen as you feel yourself grow needier. Fuck is he grateful to have such a giver. Easing your legs open, he licks a line of the lubricant slowly, licking around your clit just to mess with you. Pressing kisses and kitty licks along the flesh, around and above the sensitive bud. You whine.

He gives you a lazy smile, fingers rubbing along your folds once more.

“Y’gonna give me another one right, doll?” he says so slowly, so low you swear it sounds like a growl. His head dips down, hot breath directly on your waiting pussy.

“M’not done yet.”

a/n: eheheHEHEHEHE. Thank you for sending that in, anon. I am now dipping and swimming in a pool of holy water. TOGAME THE EATER TOGAME THE EATEEEERRRRR 🗣️🗣️

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time His Older Brother Gave Him A Tarot Reading”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, reader is not present, Sukuna is pining hard

Word Count: 1.26k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna isn’t one to make time for his family. Although he has an identical twin brother who bothers him far too much for his liking and an older half brother, he almost never talks about them and spends even less time talking too them. But today he was feeling nice… which is strange for him, but regardless, he decided to agree to come by his brothers’ apartment.

And was quickly reminded of why he never comes over.

Sukuna was seated on the antique couch while Choso kneeled in front of the coffee table between them, flickering candles on every surface bathing the living room in a soft warm glow and reflecting on the shiny surfaces of the crystals placed meticulously all over the table. Choso opened up a small black box, pulling intricately designed tarot cards from inside and fanning them between his fingers before spreading them face down across the table.

Sukuna really was trying not to roll his eyes at the whole ordeal, but the man can only take so much before he’s bound to cave, “This is so stupid.”

“Shh…” Choso leans forward and presses his finger over Sukuna’s lips.

“Don’t touch me.” He grumbles.

“Shut up,” Choso loses his calm demeanor for only a second before he’s closing his eyes again, “I’m focusing.”

“On what?”

“I’m tuning in…” He wiggles his fingers over the cards, “to the energies.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sukuna rubs his temples, “When did you start doing this witchcraft shit again?”

“Not witchcraft,” Choso peeks one eye open to shoot a quick glare at his brother, “And yesterday.”

“Oh you’re a real professional huh?” He smirks down at him.

“Sukuna,” His shoulders slump and he lets out a frustrated huff, “Just, fucking shut up.”

The two of them squint as the lights suddenly flick on, Yuuji not quite getting the memo of what’s going on downstairs as he leans his head over the stair railing to peek into the living room, “Ooh, how’s the satanic ritual going?” He calls out from the stairway.

“Yuuji!” The two of them call out in unison. He lets out a little “Oops” and flicks the light back off, running back to his room upstairs.

Choso rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner onto his fingers, “Okay just, pick a card.”

Sukuna huffs out an annoyed breath, reaching forward and tapping his pointer finger on one of the cards in the middle. Choso slides the card down in front of Sukuna and flips it over, revealing an upside down picture of a man sitting upright in a bed with his head in his hands and swords neatly stacked on the wall behind him.

“Oh, interesting.” Choso mumbles.

“The fuck is he crying about?” Sukuna leans down and squints at the card on the table, “It’s upside down.”

“It’s reversed,” Choso clarifies, “The nine of swords reversed.”

“Choso, I don’t know what the hell that means.”

The long haired man sits up a little straighter, pointing at the card with a manicured finger, “This first card is your past. The next will be the present, and the last will be your future.” He picks the card up and scans it carefully, “You were… struggling, alone, not one to talk to others even when you need to-“

“What is this fuckin’ therapy?”

Choso groans and rolls his eyes, “God knows you need it, but no. Anyway,” He clears his throat, “You were in a downward spiral, but this is past tense, clearly you’re more open now considering,” He gestures vaguely around the room, “Well, you’re here for once.”

Sukuna is visibly annoyed, not a fan of being picked and prodded at. Choso places the card back down on the table, gesturing for Sukuna to pick another one, which to Choso’s surprise and for Sukuna’s morbid curiosity, he does; tapping his finger on a card pushed to the side of the table.

Choso flips the card over, and once again, it's upside down. It pictures a man sitting cross crossed in front of a tree, three golden goblets on the grass in front of him and a fourth being given to him from a disembodied hand floating next to him.

He’s really fuckin’ bad at organizing his cards.

Choso’s gaze flickers between Sukuna and the card, his brows furrowed in thought so clearly that you could almost see cogs turning behind his eyes, “Four of cups… reversed.”

“The hell does reversed mean?”

“It’s usually a negative version of the card’s meaning.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Oh fuckin’ lovely.”

Choso props his elbow onto the table, tracing the outline of the card with his finger, “You’re withdrawing-“

“Well yeah. No shit,” Sukuna cuts him off, “You’re telling me I’m cursed. What’s the damn card mean?”

“That is what the card means, idiot. You’re reluctant to open up to someone.”

Sukuna leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugs, “Maybe the future card will clarify.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs. Choso looks up at him with confusion, “I told you this was stupid, I’m not picking another.”

The light flicks on once again, Sukuna groans at the sound of Yuuji’s voice yelling from the stairway, “Sounds like someone’s a fucking pussy!”

“Yuuji, quit eavesdropping or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”

The light flicks back off.

Choso looks up at Sukuna expectantly, and after glaring down at him for a moment he breaks, rolling his eyes and flipping over a random card, “If it’s upside down I swear to fucking god-“

“Oh shit!”

“What?” Sukuna sounds almost startled, looking down at the card he sees that this one is upright; picturing a naked man and woman standing in front of some kind of angel. But he’s quickly able to gather the most damning part of the card.

The bottom of the card says “The Lovers.”

“Oh fuck off.”

A smile spreads across Choso’s face, “I don’t think I need to explain this one to you. And it’s not upside down.”

“Reversed.” Sukuna mockingly clarifies.

“Shut up,” Choso leans forward, grin still plastered on his lips, “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody, this shit isn’t real.” Sukuna scowls, but deep down he’s glad the room is so dark to hide the tint in his cheeks.

It’s not fucking real idiot. Stop it.

“How about this,” Choso clasps his hands together, looking up towards the ceiling, “If this shit is real, give us a sign.”

Yuuji flickers the lights.

“No! Stop interfering, this is serious!” Choso yells out towards the stairway.

But Sukuna’s blood runs cold as his phone buzzes in his pocket, quiet enough that no one could hear, but he could feel it.

It’s not real.

The room is silent for a moment as Choso scans for any type of sign, but it’s as if the world had completely stopped turning, not even the candles were flickering. Choso plops his head onto the coffee table, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

“Mhm.” Sukuna hums, putting up a disinterested front as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “Can we watch a movie or something now like a normal family?”

Choso defeatedly blows out the candles, collecting his crystals and placing his tarot cards neatly back into the box, “Fine, fine, but I still think it’s real.”

Sukuna’s heart nearly stops beating when he unlocks his phone and sees a text from you, “If u leave dirty dishes in the sink one more time I’m actually gonna kill u in your sleep.”

God I hope it’s fucking real.

A/N: Family bonding time has never been so awkward, anyway here’s that time Sukuna started to believe in magic, or witchcraft, or anything if it means you like him as much as he likes you. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[sunarinscat]

A little hurt comfort ft. your fav

He is in love with you. He is in love with your smile, your laughter, your radiance. He sits at your feet like a dog and basks in the warmth of your light. But he's not just in love with you, he loves you. He loves you through your sunshiny days and loves you through your stormy ones too. He loves the way you persevere, he's proud of his girl. But he also loves you when you need a minute to sit in the mud. He often stoops to sit and just experience it with you.

So, when you stumble into your apartment after a hard day: spilt coffee, harsh words, plans awry - he knows just what to do.

You aren't crying yet. Haven't even said a word. But he can see it. Your jaw is set, and your eyes are anywhere but on his. You set down your bag and hang up your things. He knows you, knows that you'll instantly book it to the bathroom to cry quietly to yourself. You hate being a bother. You duck into the kitchen to grab something, and he pads over to the bathroom as quietly as possible. He hears you sigh and shuffle in his direction as he prepares. The instant your feet hit the cool tile of the bathroom floor you nearly run into him. He stands right in front of you with a sympathetic smile and open arms - a silent invitation. You bite your lip and look towards your toes.

"If I hug you I might cry."

"I know. I'm here. We can talk later."

Your eyes dart up to his and you can feel yourself tearing up. You collapse into his embrace and sob into his chest. He smells fresh and clean and you hate to be dirtying his shirt with your snot and tears but you're too far gone anyways. His large hands cup your face and pet your hair. He gently drops to the floor with you and cradles you there as sobs wrack your body.

"I know baby girl. Just let it all out."

He wipes your tears away from your face with his large thumbs and you can't help but smile as he begins to tear up too. Every time you cry, he ends up crying too. It's actually kind of nice... It makes it feel like he's carrying the weight of your feelings too. You feel less alone. Slowly but surely the tears come fewer and fewer, and your breathing begins to steady. He picks you up like you are made of glass and gently sets you on the counter. You watch his muscular figure as he shuffles over to the tub and begins running you a bath.

The sound of the water echoes through the room and you sigh as strong arms begin to undress you. It's gentle, tender. You feel loved. He slips off your shoes first. Gentle fingers make their way to your socks, prying at the hems before pulling them down shyly. He removes your skirt, then your jacket, and finally your shirt. Your left in your underwear, but the room is warm and steamy, and the exposure doesn't bother you one bit.

"I hope you know you are the most beautiful thing in my world."

You give him a dopey grin as you hiccup through a few happy tears. You don't even know why you're crying at this point. He removes the last few items of clothing and gently places you into the bathtub.

"How about I give you a few minutes to decompress on your own while I make some cookies and tea, then I'll come give you a massage and wash your hair for you."

You're on the verge of tears again, shaky arms reaching out to hang around his neck and grasp at the back of his hair. You press your forehead to his and whisper.

"I love you so much. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

He chuckles and the soft rumble of his chest gives you butterflies.

"You deserve so much more love than you think you do. You are so kind and strong and beautiful. I don't know what I DID to deserve YOU. Besides, I know you'd do the same for me sweetheart."

[duskier]

rosemary

price x reader .... dark content / noncon / kidnapping

Okay I love ex husband Price as much as the next person but also consider, slightly more fucked up: widower Price. He handles it really, really well, all things considered. His beautiful young wife, Rosemary, died in his arms from a terminal illness. They knew it was coming, had been for a long time. It was a good death, as good as one can be but it was still too soon and it broke something in Price.

He takes a few months off to grieve, to pack Rose's things away and clean their house. Goes to therapy, walks through every step that has been laid out for him that is meant to guide him to "getting better". It works.

...But then he sees you one day, only a week before he was supposed to return to work.

Relief floods his body as his knees nearly buckle beneath him when he sees you through the shop window. Price knew deep down you'd never leave him, his Rose. It must have all been one big, fucked up dream he'd had, or maybe he had gotten confused.

Look at you, his darling wife... since when did you start working at a coffee shop? Never mind, you probably picked it up while he was working, something to keep that pretty head of yours busy. You always have so much energy, and you love people, it made sense you'd take the job.

Where was your ring...? You probably took it off during shifts, knew you'd get better tips from male customers if you looked single. Price didn't worry, he knew you were a good girl- his good girl. You deserved all the tips.

He waited patiently for you in the corner of the store for your shift to end, you didn't seem to have time to stop by and say hi. His hard working beauty. He was so lucky to have you, his eyes following you the whole time, admiring your dilligence.

When you took a wrong turn driving the wrong way away from your shared home, Price frowned a little, but followed your car closely anyways. You must have worked too hard, maybe you were getting lost. Alarm bells were ringing in his ears- you needed his help.

He helped you into his car without any issue after you parked in an apartment complex. You protested a ton, but Price was stronger- you must have forgotten all those times he won when you play fought.

Silly girl, where did you think you were going? You needed to come home, to your nice suburban home you bought together a few years ago, remember? We can pick your car up in the morning, once you've had some rest. Price would make you dinner, run you a warm bath- you must not be feeling well after all.

Don't worry darling, Price would remind you that you didn't have to work if you don't want to, especially not if it was going to leave you so exhausted you couldn't get home safely. He vowed to never let anything bad happen to you, his lovely bride, and he was going to make certain of it.

And if he feels you crying when he fucks you that night- your body passive and yielding to him simply out of horror at the life you were suddenly being forced into- he kissed and licked those tears away. Holding you so tenderly, so lovingly, it confused the life out of you- you thought for sure he was planning to kill you but the longer you stayed the less you were so sure- he whispers into your hair, "Shh, it's okay my Rose, I'm here. I'll always be here to take care of my girl. I love you."

[wintrwinchestr]

obedience | part 2

summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 5.7k

a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)

(read part 1 here if you missed it)

dividers by @saradika

“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot. 

The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.

You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night. 

Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.

–

The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.

When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.

You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.

“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.

Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.

–

A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.

You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.

Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?

And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.

“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.

“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest. 

Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.

“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.

You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.

A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him. 

“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”

You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”

You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.

“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”

You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.

He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”

You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal. 

“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”

It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.

“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”

And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.

Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.

“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.

Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.

“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs. 

Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.

“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.

“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.

“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”

Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.

“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”

You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.

“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”

 “No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him. 

“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.

“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock. 

On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.

He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”

“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.

He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.

“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.

You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.

“Speak,” he spits again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.

“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?” 

You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.

Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat. 

He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.

“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”

You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.

He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.

“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”

Fuck.

The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.

Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.

“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.

You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.

“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment. 

“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”

You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”

“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”

He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.

“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”

The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.

“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”

You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy. 

Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.

“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.

You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.

“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.

“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.

“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.

“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”

You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.

When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer. 

He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.

You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.

When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.

“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.

You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.

“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.

He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”

“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.

“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.

“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.

Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”

You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”

“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.

You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”

He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”

Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought. 

“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”

You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.

He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it. 

Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.

tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)

[shaiyasstuff]

Hello Shaiya!! I have a request! Can you PLEASE make a Xavier x Reader/MC actor AU? I don't mind if you make it a one shot or headcanon. In this AU Xavier and MC are like the main leads in a romcom!! If you decide to write it then thank youu!!

Hi loveee! Of course I can. Ask and I shall deliver :)) hope this satisfies your request and needs. Xavier being an actor was wew, I almost didn’t know how to write this. But I did :D so here is actor Xavier.

“You’re still holding your coffee like a cryptid,” you say, watching him with a smirk as he grips the paper cup with both hands, fingers curled stiffly around it like it might bite him.

Xavier glances down, his silver brows drawing together in mild confusion. “Is this… not normal?”

“Not unless you’re trying to emotionally connect with it.”

He considers that for a moment, lips twitching. “Maybe I am. It hasn’t disappointed me yet.”

You laugh, leaning back against the bench.

He’s still in costume—a soft white sweater under a tan overcoat, hair tousled like the wardrobe team gave up halfway.

His blue eyes flick toward you, quietly attentive.

“You did the nose scrunch again,” you say softly.

He tilts his head. “I did?”

“Yeah. Every time the character says something flirty, you do this little—” You mimic the expression. It’s completely ridiculous.

“Like you’re offended by your own charm.”

Xavier blinks once. “It’s involuntary.”

“Adorable.”

He blushes.

Not dramatically—just a faint dusting of pink at the tips of his ears. He sips his coffee like it’ll help hide it.

There’s a comfortable silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the crew resetting lights and adjusting boom mics.

You glance at him again, catching the way he’s watching the extras go by, lost in thought.

“Do you ever think about what we’d be like if this wasn’t a film?” you ask, casually. Too casually.

Xavier blinks. “As in… if this was real?”

“Yeah. You and me. Running into each other in a bookstore. Bickering over the last copy of Pride and Prejudice. Accidentally falling in love.”

He looks at you, gaze softening. “I think you’d win the book.”

You laugh. “That’s all you got from that scenario?”

He hums. “Well, I wouldn’t stand a chance, would I? Not with you looking at me like that.”

Your smile falters just slightly. “Like what?”

Xavier doesn’t break eye contact. “Like you already know the ending.”

Silence falls again—heavier, warmer this time.

Neither of you move.

Somewhere, someone yells “Five minutes to reset!” but it feels distant.

Then he breaks it with a soft, unsure laugh. “That wasn’t in the script.”

You grin, heart thudding. “No. But maybe it should’ve been.”

Xavier looks down at the now-cold coffee in his hands, then back at you. “We should improvise more.”

And just like that, the director calls you both to set. The final kiss scene is next.

Neither of you quite remember your marks when the camera starts rolling.

The fake city park is bathed in the warm haze of studio sunset—artificial, but convincing.

The lights dim just enough to cast a golden glow on the bench where you and Xavier now stand, inches apart.

You’re both in character. Supposedly.

Your character has just confessed, eyes bright with tears, voice trembling with hope. His character is supposed to close the distance and kiss her like it’s the first day of forever.

The director calls, “Action!”

Xavier steps closer. Not the confident stride you rehearsed—this one is slower, more tentative, like he’s not quite sure he should.

His brows furrow, but not from the script.

His eyes—always too clear, too honest—search your face like he’s reading between the lines of something unsaid.

Your line catches in your throat. You deliver it anyway.

“Say something. Please.”

A beat. A breath.

“I think I fell for you the second you looked at me like I mattered,” he says.

Not the line.

You blink.

That’s not the line.

The script said something about fate and serendipity and a coffee shop.

But this—

This is different. More quiet. More real.

Your chest tightens, but you don’t say anything.

You can’t.

Because Xavier’s hand is now at your waist, fingers brushing tentative warmth over the thin fabric of your costume.

And his other hand rises slowly to your cheek.

His thumb barely grazes your skin, like he’s afraid to touch you fully.

And then—he kisses you.

It’s supposed to be a three-second kiss.

Soft. Clean. Fade to black.

But the moment your lips meet, something shifts.

It’s not choreographed.

It’s not clean.

It’s slow, and aching, and far too gentle for something pretend. His breath shudders against your mouth. His hand tightens at your waist.

You don’t know who leans in first for more—you or him—but the kiss deepens like it’s pulling from something hidden, something that’s been waiting in silence all along.

You feel his exhale. Feel the tremble in your fingers as they find the fabric of his coat.

He kisses you like he’s learning you.

Like he’s been trying not to.

Like he forgot the cameras existed.

And for a moment—you forget too.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. Eyes closed. Breathing unsteady.

The silence is deafening.

Then—

“Cut!”

The director’s voice is distant.

Someone claps. Someone else mutters something about the lighting being perfect.

But neither of you move.

Xavier doesn’t let go. Not immediately.

When he finally does, it’s slow—his hand dragging reluctantly away from your waist, as though the parting hurts.

You glance up at him, heart pounding, lips still tingling. He opens his eyes. Blue, wide, unreadable.

“That—” you begin, but the words don’t come.

He beats you to it. Voice low. Rough. “That wasn’t acting.”

You swallow. “I know.”

And maybe the camera’s still rolling. Maybe the crew is watching. Maybe the whole world will see it someday.

But in that moment, none of it matters.

Because he’s looking at you like he just wrote a love story and finally realized it was real.

—•

“That was…” you trailed off as you walked deeper into your dressing room, the door shutting with a soft click behind you.

Xavier followed close behind.

“Xav—”

You stopped. Or maybe he stopped you.

He was suddenly just there—standing so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. His presence wrapped around you like gravity. Heavy. Inevitable.

Your breath hitched.

His eyes—blue, half-lidded, unreadable—searched your face. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. The air between you buzzed with the unspoken.

You swallowed hard. You knew what that kiss had meant.

You wanted it too.

But—

“Xavier…” you started again, your voice a whisper that trembled under the weight of logic. “We have to think about—what people will say. Your fans. They—”

You flinched at the memory of the last actress tangled in rumors about him. How they tore her apart in interviews, on forums, in comments filled with venom.

You weren’t afraid of love.

You were afraid of what it would cost.

But your thoughts shattered the second his fingers brushed against yours.

Barely a touch. Delicate. Testing.

But it was enough to silence the noise in your head.

You didn’t pull away.

He didn’t either.

You looked up at him, lips parted, breath uneven.

“This… Xavier…” You said his name like it meant everything and nothing at once.

His gaze dropped to your joined hands, then slowly returned to yours, steady and sure. “I know.”

The quietness of his voice made it feel more intimate than any shout.

Then, he tilted his head—just slightly—and gave you that look.

That knowing look.

Calm on the surface, but laced with something smug beneath it.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Exactly what you wanted.

“Tell me this isn’t what you want,” he said, softly. Challenge humming just beneath his words.

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

He was giving you an out.

You didn’t take it.

Instead, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

And whispered, “I can’t.”

That was all it took.

Xavier stepped closer—close enough that your back brushed against the vanity table. His hand slipped into yours, lacing his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t kiss you again.

Not yet.

He just looked at you like you were the answer to a question he hadn’t known he’d been asking until now.

And for once—you didn’t feel like running from it.

—•

The next morning, something shifted.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was there.

Xavier still held his coffee like a cryptid. You still teased him for it. He still did the nose scrunch whenever his character said something flirty.

But now, when the director called “Cut,” his hand lingered on yours just a second longer.

When the cameras stopped rolling, he’d lean in just close enough that your heart stuttered—like a secret only the two of you knew.

There were small things.

Like the way he started showing up at your trailer with your favorite snacks.

Or how he offered his coat between takes, even when you weren’t cold.

Or the way he looked at you, like the lines were blurring—on-screen and off—and maybe, he didn’t mind at all.

On the second-to-last day of shooting, the whole cast went out for drinks. Someone brought karaoke into the mix.

You weren’t sure who. Xavier didn’t sing, but he sat beside you with a soft smile as you belted out a chaotic duet with the lead supporting actor.

When you collapsed beside him, laughing, cheeks flushed and breathless, he didn’t say anything.

He just brushed your hair from your face and whispered, “You’re kind of magic, you know that?”

And you had to pretend your heart wasn’t doing somersaults.

On the last day of filming, the crew gifted everyone little wrap-up tokens.

Your gift was a photo. A still from that scene. The kiss. Golden hour melting across your faces, his forehead resting gently against yours.

You stared at it longer than you should have, fingers brushing over the glossy paper.

Xavier walked up beside you, holding his own wrapped gift. But he wasn’t looking at it.

He was looking at you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Just… feels like something’s ending.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Not everything has to.”

You looked up. He looked nervous—Xavier, of all people.

The same man who could face fan mobs and chaotic press tours with a calm smile was now shifting from foot to foot like the floor might vanish under him.

“Do you want this to end?” he asked.

And you didn’t even hesitate.

“No.”

He let out a quiet breath of relief.

You smiled up at him. “But we’ll have to be careful.”

“I know,” he said. “We’ll take it slow. Quiet, if you want. I don’t care how long it takes. I just… I want to try. With you.”

You stepped forward, closing the small gap between you.

“And if your fans riot?” you teased, fingers brushing the hem of his sleeve.

“I’ll protect you,” he said easily. “With my coffee cup if I have to.”

You laughed, and he smiled like the sound made the whole world better.

The set was being dismantled behind you. Lights dimming, props packed away. People saying goodbyes.

But here, tucked just behind one of the now-empty sound stages, with your wrap gifts in hand and his fingers laced through yours—

It didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like a beginning.

He kissed your temple, soft and unhurried.

And you, for the first time, didn’t worry about tomorrow.

Because Xavier was warm beside you, your hands fit just right, and maybe—just maybe—this was your real-life romcom after all.

[harrywavycurly]

I still think about how soft Harry turned for his sunshine girl and I imagine all the random voice notes he’d send her during the day when he can’t call her or maybe the voicemails he’d leave and how sweet his little rants would be😩🥹

Hiii babes!! I miss my little lovey dovey HWC Harry so I’m gonna give you some examples of his rant-ish voicemails and voice notes to his sunshine girl! I hope you enjoy!!💖

Find all things Handle With Care here✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @namoreno @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @triski73

Summary: These are some voice notes and voicemails your lovely ex frat daddy boyfriend Harry sends you during the week✨

Monday’s Voice Note: “Good morning sunshine it’s…uhh shit…oh sorry don’t be mad…ah okay it’s seven fifteen in the morning and I’m about to go for a run and then come see you before you go to work. I hope you slept good? How did that weird sleepy tea taste? Did it work?…m’not totally sure all those things are actually good for you but if they help then I’m all for it because my sunshine girl needs her full eight hours or she’s a bit prickly…but I don’t mind when you’re a little grumpy..makes you more cuddly and we both know how I feel about cuddling so-oh bloody hell why is all my coffee gone? m’gonna kill that Irish fuck-I mean I love you baby I’ll see you in a bit…I wonder if you’re dreaming about me right now? Hmmm…you’ll have to tell me what you dreamt about when I see you. Love you!”

Tuesday’s voicemail: “Hey baby I’m just seeing if you’re free for dinner tonight? I forgot you had a meeting during lunch today so just call me back whenever you can…I miss you…oh and I love you…yeah okay that’s it. Love you…I already said that didn’t I? Oh well you can hear it again…I love you…bye sunshine.”

Wednesday’s voicemail: “I am so sorry I couldn’t walk you to work this morning I forgot to set an alarm and when I woke up I saw all your missed calls and…god I’m-shit I’m so late…I’m sorry sweetheart but I hope you have a good day and I’m going to come see you for lunch! I’ll bring your favorite…I love you! I’ll see you soon! Make sure to save a few smiles for me okay? Don’t give them all away…love you.”

Thursday’s Voice Note: “Goodnight my sunshine girl…thank you for letting me pick the movie tonight even though it’s technically your night…I love you and I can’t wait until you finally stop telling me no when I ask you to move in because we both know you want to live with me…or maybe it’s that we both know I really really hate not being able to wake up next to you everyday..two floors of separation is killing me baby and I know one day soon…you’ll just stop fighting it and just accept the fact we are going to be together forever so might as well start forever as soon as we can…and before you say anything yes I stole parts of that from when Harry met Sally but it’s the truth…remember when you said you���d be okay with the wife thing after our first kiss? Well that was almost a year ago…but anyway…I love you…a lot…actually it’s more than just a lot but there’s not a word to describe the amount so…a lot will just have to do for now…I know you’re just now getting out of your bath and putting on all your lotions and potions that make you all soft and uhg…I miss you…fuck this…ohh sorry baby…let me just grab my sweatshirt and—where are my socks? Oh okay here they are…I’ll be there in three minutes and forty five seconds…prepare for a sleepover because I miss you too much. I love you! Don’t fall asleep before I get there!”

Friday’s Voice Note: “Hey sweetheart did you know Niall has a key to your apartment? I didn’t until he walked in while I was in the living room and he scared the shi-crap out of me…when did he get a key? Did he steal it from you?…oh and I’m making pizza for dinner does that sound good? I hope you’re having a good day at work…Miss you and love you like crazy.”

Saturday’s Voicemail: “Hey baby…m’a little drunk but s’all Niall’s fault and god I love you. I’m gonna marry you when you finally let me. But you know that yeah? Yeah…yeah you know that…god hallways are so long and…and ugly? Why are the hallways so hideous? M’gonna come cuddle you is that okay? If it’s not just…kick me off the bed okay? Yeah..yeah I’ll see you soon sunshine…my sunshine..you smell like flowers and sunshine because you’re my sunshine girl…that I love so…so much a lot…m’gonna go now okay? M’at the door! Love you!”

Sunday’s Voice Note: “Baby where are you? You just left me in bed with a bottle of water and some aspirin with a note on my forehead saying…br…feast? That’s…that’s not a real word?…wait oh it says…breakfast…did you go get breakfast? God I’m so lucky that you’re my…my everything…you’re too good to me. I’m gonna go shower because I smell like the floor of a shitty bar…but I love you and miss your cute face so hurry back? Please?”

[lolasangelz]

georgia's birthday

w/c: 427

a/n: ive wrote 5 fics today to be scheduled... also im done my girl math gigi is like 28 in this (and has 4 kids 😬)

rafe is mullet daddy in this

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

georgia woke up to silence. which, in a house with four kids, was suspicious.

she blinked, stretched, then turned toward rafe’s side of the bed.

empty.

a note sat on the pillow in his handwriting - barely legible, all loops and smudges.

“don’t come downstairs yet. wear something soft. love you.”

she smiled. okay. so maybe today wouldn’t be like every other day.

she pulled on one of his old t-shirts - the one she always slept in - and wandered to the bathroom. there were fresh flowers on the counter.

and then- a knock.

emerson’s voice came through the door, whisper-screaming.

“mama, can we come in now? it’s time.”

she opened the door and was instantly surrounded. tiny hands, loud voices, a blur of bunny slippers and wild bed hair.

“we made you breakfast!” maddie grinned. “daddy made the pancakes but i did the whipped cream.”

“i put the sprinkles,” grayson added.

“mama me help!,” maggie said proudly, chocolate already on her chin.

rafe stood in the hallway behind them. soft-eyed, messy-haired. holding a tray.

“it’s not gourmet,” he said, handing it over.

on the tray: pancakes stacked a little too high, strawberries cut into crooked hearts, black coffee, a single candle already half-melted.

“they wanted to sing,” he added.

so they did. loudly. out of sync. maggie tried to eat the candle wax.

gigi sat on the edge of the bed and laughed until she cried.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

the rest of the day was simple. breakfast turned into cartoons, then into a lazy late-morning walk. the kids raced ahead. rafe and gigi walked behind, fingers brushing, talking about nothing.

he kept looking at her like she was something rare. something he was still learning how to hold.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

later that night, after bath time and bedtime books and three separate rounds of “i need water,” the house was finally quiet.

gigi stood by the window, brushing her hair out. the breeze was warm, and her eyes felt heavy in the best way.

rafe came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist.

“happy birthday,” he whispered into her neck.

“you already said that.”

“i know. say it again anyway.”

she turned in his arms and looked up at him.

“this was the best one,” she said honestly. “even though it was… small.”

“small’s good,” he murmured. “i like the quiet ones. just us.”

"just wait a few years for your 30th"

"it's like 2 years away"

she leaned in, kissed him. slow. sleepy. warm.

“you’re getting soft,” she teased.

“i’ve always been soft for you.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[16wolke11]

GRAVITY GIRL - Kimi Antonelli

A/N I really love this one-shot, so I hope you will like it too!

WORDS: 1748

_____ 

If you had asked me three weeks ago if I believed in love at first sight, I would have laughed loudly, maybe even falling into a giggle again when thinking about it. I was always the practical type, with schedules, checklists, and colour-coded notes. Finishing school with the highest grades is my only priority right now. Being spontaneous is definitely not on my list until that last exam is written.

So when my brother George begged me to take a break from my revision sheets and just spend a bit of time with him at the tracks, "You don't have to be in school anyway and you can learn wherever you are," were his words and still I hesitated. He might be right, but all of this sounded messy, unstructured. Just unlike me.

But sitting at my desk day by day, only revising what was taught in classes of the last years slowly burns me out. It walks up to me and will drag me down when I don't bring some variety into my day.

So, I went with George. Still reluctant and grumpy, but armed with my laptop, noise-cancelling headphones, my sheets with notes and the plan on when I have to revise what.

Well and then he came.

It was on the third day I was with George, and I stepped out for a walk, convincing myself that some sun would wake me up better than the fourth coffee. The paddock is still sleepy, bathed in the morning sunlight and it looks oddly peaceful. I pass the other motorhomes, seeing someone here and there, but I just keep walking until I trip.

Shoe getting caught on the edge of the asphalt and down I went. Arms trying to get in front of me to protect the fall, sunglasses hitting the ground and then there he was. A guy on a scooter, scrolling through the paddock. One moment, I was bracing myself for the impact, and the next, strong arms were wrapped around me. Just like a scene taken straight out of a cheesy romance novel.

"Gotcha." He grins, like this is the best moment of his week and I just blink at him. His hair is messy, his skin sun-kissed and his eyes glimmer with mischief. He wears one of the Mercedes team shirts and I groan on the inside, knowing that this might make me the giggle of the day.

"Uh...thanks." I mutter, trying to smooth out my shirt, cheeks being on fire from how red I turn.

"No problem, you okay?" He asks, tilting his head to the side and I need a moment to answer.

"Fine...just gravity."

He laughs, a soft laugh that makes others grin too. "It's a real bastard, huh?"

I roll my eyes, but then see that he already got my sunglasses off the ground without me noticing. He offers them to me, and I take them without hesitating.

"Nice save by the way." He says, confusing me. What does he mean?

"You saved me?" I ask, eyebrows furrowed. This wasn't my achievement, but his.

"Exactly." He winks, swinging himself back on his scooter. "If you keep falling for strangers, try to pick the ugly ones, so you can keep me in mind." And just like that, he rolls away. I stare after him, kind of flustered, kind of annoyed and more interested than I want to admit.

His name is Kimi. Of course, I had to run into my brother's teammate before properly meeting him and of course, I didn't manage to remember him when he kept me from falling. But of course, he is sticking around in the garage when I walk around with George and comes over to me like we have been friends for years now.

"Hey, gravity girl." Kimi grins, making me groan.

"Please don't let that nickname stick."

"You are watching where you are going, or do I need to start carrying around some bubble wrap?"

George raises one of his eyebrows curiously but stays silent. I just sigh, before asking. "You are Kimi, right?"

"Guilty as charged. And you are?"

I tell him my name, before adding "George's sister."

"I figured that one out." Kimi says, nodding his head at George, but has no shame in flirting in front of my older brother.

"How?"

"Not many carry those pretty eyes around."

I should have walked away after that. I had stuff to learn. Spreadsheets to learn on my laptop, but instead I found myself staying on his side of the garage, listening to him telling stories about racing cars and making bad jokes.

Over the next weeks, I keep running into him. It is just a coincidence, I try to tell myself. Small paddock, same team, limited places to be at. But my excuses grew thinner every time Kimi makes me laugh until my side hurts, or we just share some lunch on top of the hospitality when he should be at an interview instead.

He was charming, funny and flirted with me shamelessly.

I learned that he grew up in the Mercedes family and had a second family when he was with Prema. That he usually spends all his free time doing anything related to racing and that he learned to cook from his Nonna.

The song Accidentally in Love plays on speaker when we share another lunch in the hospitality and Kimi smirks when he asks me, "Do you know that song?" I listen to it just for a moment, before a blush appears on my cheeks. "It's like number five on one of my playlists." Kimi smiles at me, before there is something else on his face, something vulnerable.

"Feel like that a little bit, doesn't it?" He asks, "You and me..."

His voice trails off and I want to scoff, say something sarcastic, but my heart stumbles and all I can mutter is.

"A little."

We weren't a couple, we hadn't even kissed, but somehow, I found myself rearranging my days around Kimis. Working when he is in the car, has meetings or is occupied otherwise. In between, we would meet up, just taking a walk, driving around on his scooter. I even let him drag me to the kitchen of the hospitality, convincing one of the chefs that we could cook in there.

It was spontaneous.

It was chaotic.

It wasn't me.

But for the first time, messy felt right.

Then, during one of our lunches on top of the hospitality came the rain. Not a storm, not just some droplets, one of those wild downpours that makes everything smell petrichor. We were just laughing about something when the sky cracked open. I squealed, trying to get up as quickly as possible, searching for shelter from the rain, Kimi following me.

"Great, that's what I get for not bringing a jacket." I huff, pushing my soaked hair out of my face while Kimi just grins.

"Dance with me."

"What?"

"Dance with me in the rain."

I stare at him for a moment, debating if he is really serious. "You know, people don't do that? It's just a thing they do in movies and books."

"It can be real if we do it."

And somehow that convinced me to let him pull me back into the pouring rain. Kimi twirls me around, a bit clumsily but still lovingly, singing off-key, making me laugh with every twirl. Then, somewhere between the laughing, our eyes lock. It's like being pulled by an invisible string before our lips meet.

The kiss wasn't slow, cinematic or soft. It was messy, wet from the rain, but still full of warmth and the best of it, it was real.

Kissing in the rain might be straight up a cliche, but it was perfect for us.

The next morning, I was drinking my coffee in the hospitality area alone. The temperature dropped after the rain last night, like it is a mirror of my mind. I shouldn't feel anxious about that kiss with Kimi. I should be revising, learning for my exam and thinking about what comes next. Instead, that kiss plays in my head over and over again. Then George joins me.

"You and Kimi, huh?"

"Maybe?" I ask, trying to figure out if he is okay with that, but George just smiles at me.

"You like him?"

"I didn't mean to." I sigh, making my brother laugh softly.

"That's how it usually happens."

The last evening of my time with George has come and I, of course, spent it with Kimi. We are on the balcony of his hotel room, staring at the stars.

"I don't want to go." I whisper, something I wouldn't have said a few weeks ago. Where I wanted nothing more than to go back home to my study environment, but I like what I have here.

"Then don't." Kimi just mutters and I turn my head around with a sigh.

"That is not how it works."

"Why not?"

"Because life, exams, reality."

Kimi is quiet and I know he does understand what I say, having to face his own exams soon as well, but we don't want to face reality again. We want to keep sharing time around a schedule, not have to part ways that just started to intervene.

"Can I come visit you?"

"You want to come to me when it would be easier for me to just join George again?"

Kimi nods. "Want to see where you live. Crash your time schedule." He hesitates before adding a whispered. "Steal your heart all over again."

"You are assuming you already have it." I tease him, but Kimi just reaches for my hand and laces his fingers with mine.

"You are the one who fell, gravity girl."

The next morning, I had to leave, but my head was filled with memories now and not only with the stuff for the exam. The feeling of Kimi's lips still lingering on mine and back home, I didn't lose his presence either.

The tight learning schedule came back, but something had shifted. I started to do little tasks in between again, something to loosen everything up, even danced on the balcony in pouring rain just to have the memory of Kimi close.

And every few nights, he would call with FaceTime.

Maybe I didn't mean to fall, maybe I didn't accidentally fall in love, but now that I have experienced something that wasn't planned, I don't want to go back anymore. 

[kazroze]

here's a starter apartment build i made for my own gameplay. nothing special, just a box with some decoration slapped on top😅 the roof got irreversibly messed up at some point too, but i thought you guys might be interested anyway!

the lot is playtested both as a café and a rental residential but i highly recommend @down-in-simsland's new lot traits mod for a better "living above a hipster coffee shop" experience!

town square terrace in copperdale NO CC café | residential rental 59,156§ | 14,120§ rental unit 20x15 2 bed 1 bath

DOWNLOAD tray files: simfileshare | google drive gallery id: catwort

more info under the cut!

for this lot you will need the following:

eps - get to work, get together, city living, cats & dogs, seasons, get famous, discover university, eco lifestyle, snowy escape, cottage living, high school years, growing together, horse ranch, for rent;

gps - spa day, dine out, vampires, jungle advneture, dream home decorator;

sps: - laundry day, paranormal;

kits - country kitchen, industrial loft, blooming rooms, basement treasures.

remember you can always replace the missing items from dlc you don't own, so please don't feel discouraged to download anyway <3

@vanillafinds @public-ccfinds @maxismatchccworld @sssvitlanz @publicvanillabuilds @s4realtor thanks for sharing!

[leejenowrld]

The comments were getting too long on the ig post, but jeno being needy after finding out that he isn’t on yns ig

it says everything without saying too much. it’s not loud, not ostentatious, not trying to prove anything to anyone—but it’s there. her instagram, a space that once held quiet glimpses into her world, little pieces of herself captured in soft light and still moments, has been stripped down to just this. just him.

jeno’s there, twice over. once in the water, bathed in golden hour, shirt loose, gaze tucked under dark lashes, and again in a blurred mess of black fabric and warm skin, his hand curled around her waist, a silent claim. nothing else remains. not the flowers he bought her. not the music she loves. not the coffee she always takes pictures of before sipping.

and the thing is—he knows why.

he’d teased her for it before, called her a nerd for posting pictures of her books instead of her face, told her she needed to hard launch him, that he was tired of being just a blurry reflection in the background of her café shots. and maybe she’d rolled her eyes, maybe she’d scoffed at the idea of hard launching anyone, but—this is what she’s done. and it’s so much worse. because she didn’t just make space for him—she erased everything else.

jeno isn’t the type to overthink, but it makes his throat tighten anyway. because this is a girl who isn’t good at loud declarations, who isn’t interested in attention, who keeps so much of herself locked away behind quiet eyes and carefully placed distance. and yet, when it comes to him, she’s laid it all bare. there’s no ambiguity here. no space for doubt. just two photos, sitting there like an open secret, saying: look. this is what i choose. this is who i love.

—

jeno had always been impatient, he’d been waiting for this. for the day he could stop pretending she was just some girl, for the moment he could put her exactly where she belonged—out in the open, where everyone could see. so when they finally stopped being a secret, he wasted no time. his instagram was flooded fast. a picture of her tucked into his side, his arm draped lazily around her waist, the soft curve of her smile barely visible as she leans into him, captioned with nothing but mine. another, her hand in his, fingers intertwined, the blurred city lights behind them. then one of her asleep on his chest, his hoodie swallowing her frame, her face turned into the warmth of his neck.

it wasn’t about proving anything. it wasn’t even about making sure people knew. it was about her. about the way she kissed him slower when she knew no one was watching. the way she never liked when eyes were on her. the way she never made him feel like an accessory. jeno had spent years being someone people wanted to show off, someone girls would flaunt like a trophy, but she wasn’t like that. she was quiet about him, quiet about everything, and he loved it—he did. but fuck, sometimes it made him restless.

“so you’re never gonna post me?” he’d asked once, scrolling through her page, all soft aesthetics and muted colors. a string of things she liked, pretty but distant, impersonal. it made him laugh, just a little, teasing her as he nudged her. “you really are a nerd. what even is this? your instagram looks like a pinterest board.”

“shut up,” she’d mumbled, stealing his phone out of his hands, and he’d just grinned, pressing a lazy kiss to her shoulder.

but then he got needier.

because when she didn’t post him, it started getting to him. he didn’t mean to care, but he did. she had all these little pieces of herself laid out for the world to see—things she loved, things she found beautiful—and yet, somehow, he wasn’t there. he wasn’t something she wanted to keep, at least not where anyone else could see. it wasn’t fair. he had her all over his page, every post dripping with possession, with evidence of how much he wanted to keep her wrapped up in his world. and her? she still looked unattached. free. like she belonged to no one.

“just one picture,” he murmured against her skin one night, lips grazing the hinge of her jaw as his hands smoothed over her thighs. “you really don’t wanna show me off? don’t wanna let everyone know who fucks you this good?”

she’d laughed then, rolling her eyes, but he’d seen the way her breath caught when he pressed his hips into hers, the way her fingers curled in his hair. he had a way of getting what he wanted, but with her, it never worked. not really.

and then, one night, jeno found out she did.

he’d been lying in bed, her body slack and heavy against him, boneless from the way he’d fucked her earlier. she was asleep, still breathing unevenly, cheek pressed into his chest, fingers curled against his ribs. he should’ve been sleeping too, but instead, he was on his phone, aimless, until he clicked her profile and froze.

everything was gone.

no more coffee shop photos, no more books, no more pressed flowers, no more random snapshots of pretty things she liked. just two posts, sitting there in the empty space. one of him, and one of them together.

and jeno wasn’t soft, not like this, but fuck.

because she never did anything without thinking about it first. because she didn’t like sharing pieces of herself with just anyone. because she’d spent so long keeping him to herself, keeping what they had locked away, not ready to let the world see.

and now—this.

jeno wasn’t insecure, he wasn’t the type to get caught up in what-ifs, but a part of him wondered. if she’d posted him back then, if she’d let everyone know sooner, if she’d let herself have him fully instead of halfway—would she have been his forever?

[astridsastroids]

𝑩𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑬𝑺

masterlist rules for the blog

summary: lewis enjoys the simple things in life even with his high class pallette

paring: fem!reader x lewis hamilton

note: really hope ferrari the team and the fucking car do lewis and charles justice this year please let the car not be absolute crap anyways enjoy

warnings: cunnilingus,overstimulation, slight fingering,lightly teasing,light cussing let me know if I forgot anything

happy reading - 💋 love from Astrid

Rainy days—I fucking love rainy days. They give me an excuse to do nothing at all. Between the downpour rushing outside and the warm cup of coffee in my hand, the couch is too comfortable at this point, and I don't want to move an inch. "Open the door; it's pouring!" Of course, Lewis is here; he always is.

I let him in before shutting the door. "Lew, what are you doing here? Don't you have a race this weekend?" His clothes clung to his body. "Is it illegal to visit my girl now? You really need to move into a building with shed parking. I had to walk in the rain all the way from there to here."

"It's an apartment building, not a personal home." He'd always ask if I'd move in with him; I never really answer that question. Usually, I just find a loophole to avoid it. My eyes take in his form. "If you stare longer, I might just evaporate, darling." I playfully smack his arm as he makes his way to my couch. "No, no, no way you're soaking my couch, Lewis."

"Babe, you're horrible! It's just a couch; I'll get you another one." I pull him up. "I just walked through the rain for you, and you won't even let me sit down?" I pull him to the bathroom. "After your bath, rainwater doesn't smell well." "Don't act like you haven't wallowed all day doing nothing. You haven't bathed either, and no, brushing your teeth and washing your face don't count." I roll my eyes.

"You shower first, and I'll go find clothes. Then I'll shower after, and yes, I'm not showering with you," I tease. "Awe, come on, that's not fair!" He smiled "Go shower." He entered the bathroom, turning on the shower as I rummaged through my cupboard for another set of pajamas.

After a while, he emerged, towel-clad around his waist. "I used all your body wash." I threw a sock at him. "What? It was less than half, and you said I should shower." He's got a point. "Now you smell like tropical berry bliss." I patted his shoulder with a teasing smile as I made my way to take my turn in the shower. It's not long before the warm water covers my skin. I mean, Lewis had a point; I was planning on wallowing all day.

Once I finished, I entered the bedroom, beelining for my lotion before Lewis gently put me on the bed. "Nice and clean, huh?" His breath was warm where he nuzzled my neck. "I've missed you so much. Too bad I'm away this weekend." He kissed my neck softly.

"Will you ever give me a day where I can just rot in my pajamas?" he began kissing all over. "I don't think so." The rain outside continued to pour, and I sighed.

"You don't want to move? Fine by me. Luckily, you're dating a problem solver. I'll get what I want; you do too." He looked at me, his voice laced with a hint of desire. "I don't like that look on your face. Should I be worried?"

"Not at all, babe, not at all." He pulled the towel off me, pushing me slightly higher on the bed.

His one hand parted my legs. "You lie there and do nothing; I get what I want. Win-win situation."

"And if I said I'm not in that mood?" He chuckled slightly. "I never said I'm doing this for you." His fingers ran down my thighs slowly, followed by his lips kissing them. A soft gasp left my lips. "This is for myself darling, no hard feelings."

His fingers ran over my clit as he began rubbing slowly around it. He placed kisses on my pussy before his warm mouth suctioned on "Lew." I gasped softly, biting my lip. My hand went to the back of his head, and one of his hands held my thigh down while the other squeezed my breast.

He came up from between my legs, softly biting my inner thigh. "Maybe just a bit of teasing." I shook my head. "No, don't do that, please."

He inserts his fingers, pumping them slowly. "What about 'I'm not doing this for you'? Don't you understand, darling?" I look at him. "I need this. I drove all this way and even got soaked by the rain for my girl. I want an apology, and this is perfect." His fingers double the effort.

His mouth hovered over my aching pussy. "Don't make me beg you," he said, tilting his head. "Nope, still not doing it for you, sunshine." His warm mouth connected with my pussy, and it felt so good my hand went back to the back of his head. "Please," the world left my lips as my stomach clenched.

He lifts my legs to hang around his neck as he sucked on my clit. "Fu—ah—mh-hm." I try to urge him on because if he stops, I might just cry in neediness. My legs tighten slightly around his head as I reach my high. "Yes... yes." My body twitches at the pleasure of my release as he puts my legs down.His hand rubbed quickly over my sensitive clit.

I yelped, "Lew, no, ah." I tried moving his hand, but his other one covered my mouth. "You can take it." I shook my head. "Yes, you can. You can take it, princess." My body spasmed; it's too much, and he knows it too. I moaned loudly into his hand. My toes scrunched as my eyes tightened shut as I felt warm liquid leave my body. Did I just—? My chest moves up and down in taking deep breaths.

"Oh fuck yeah, princess." Guest hands can do anything vibrators do. Well, at least the right pair of hands. "I'll be back," he left the room as I looked down to double-check it wasn't pee. "Yeah, not pee," thank heavens Lewis returned with a warm washcloth, wiping me down.

"I'm definitely doing that again," he said, kissing my knee. "Good to assume I rocked your world?," I toss a pillow at him, he caught it as he came to lay beside me. "Luckily for you, I love hydrating." I smack his arm before cuddling up to him. "We should get a new duvet from the closet," I said as he let out a soft chuckle. "We definitely should."

[luvrxbunny]

okay so let’s think 🤔

i think it’s been a VERY long time since Joel had sex. i’m thinking he probably messed around for a few years after Sarah died just to feel something but after that didn’t work he probably just gave up

so now after over 10yrs of no sex, hes gotten to a point where he thinks he could just live without it. like he barely has the urge anymore.

he doesn’t even get a little inkling until he meets you. but it’s only a twinge in his gut. he doesn’t get hard but he does get turned on, sensitive and the twinge flares more depending on what you do, what you’re wearing, how close to him you’re standing.

but then you guys start dating. because shockingly.. for some reason.. he gives you that same reaction— of course a lot stronger on your end

he explains this all to you, he says it’s his age but you assume it also has to do with everything he’s been through. so you don’t push it! you’d never do that to him, give him that guilt or pressure.

but something about you being his makes that little twinge become a punch to the gut. seeing you in his kitchen, making him breakfast, makes something stir in his crotch that he barely even recognizes.

then he sees you fitting into a motherly role with ellie, maybe closer to a big sister but there is maternity mixed in for sure and that causes something he’s not even equipped to deal with.. he’s starting to get hard.

it’s just a halfie but it’s more than he’s felt in years. and he just has to wait for it to go down. it’s torture.

that goes on for a while. things get exponentially worse when you move in with him. you start acting like his wife. making him coffee to go to work with in the morning, packing him lunch and setting out his clothes. you even wash his boots for him when they get too dirty or on a particularly hot day you’ll have a bath ready for him when he gets home. he’s so hard, he’s leaking.

he eventually has to figure out how to jerk off all over again cus god knows what he likes now. it takes a lot of trial and error but he’s finally able to cum for the first time in way too long.

but that just makes everything worse

because now he knows how to solve the probelm, now that his body knows this is an option, he’s getting hard no matter what you do.

you could come to him with help for a recipe, not able to understand what they’re asking and he’ll get hard. you could walk past him, he’d get a whiff of your perfume and he’s hard. you touch his arm to move past him and he’s hard.

this leads to many trips to the bathroom. he doesn’t last long, not that he tries to anyway, and he’s found that he can cum many times in one day.

you start coddling him because he’s obviously fatigued and god that makes him hard. you cuddle him, letting him be the little spoon as you both take a “much needed and earned nap” and fuck he’s leaking into his boxers.

his entire body is tense and shaking in your sleepy arms. it’s never been this bad before. he can’t think of a time it was even this bad when he was younger.

he sneaks a hand down to his crotch and desperately digs his palm into the tent in his boxers. the relief is immediate, he has to dig into his lip until it bleeds to hold in the groan that wanted out. he can’t believe himself, the depraved man he’s become.

his hand slides down into his boxers and his stomach is trembling at his own touch. something about you being right next to him is turning all his senses up to 11.

his hand wraps around his cock and it’s the most heavenly thing he’s felt. he can’t help the moan of your name that slide up his throat and leaves his mouth as a whisper. you stir beside him and his cock pulses in his hand.

what if you woke up? what would you do if you caught him like this? would you like it?

i got carried away AGAIN

[slytherin-pen]

The Nesting Fox

After five years of being mated, you and Lucien are eagerly awaiting the arrival of your first litter. As you enter the seventh month of your pregnancy, Lucien returns home from his Emissary duties to find you meticulously rearranging the baby's room, consumed by the need to prepare the space for your growing family. Sensing your stress, Lucien takes it upon himself to ease your worries by drawing a warm bath for you and offering comforting words to soothe your nerves.

pairing: Lucien x Reader

word count: 3.7k

all ACOTAR related credit goes to SJM

warnings: none/ fluff vibes only 🤍

A/N: i had writer’s block for a bit so i missed Elucien week but i started this with the theme in mind last week 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy fluffy future-dad Lucien

As the warm afternoon sun painted the cottage in a golden hue and gently streamed through the windows, you hustled about, checking off tasks from your never-ending to-do list. Your little kit wasn't due for another two months, but time seems to go too fast and too slow while pregnant. You know you have all the necessities and have their room prepared, but that doesn’t stop the nagging feeling that there’s still more to do, leaving you restless.

Your best friend Mor has been taking you shopping for baby items and garments to replace your weekly pre-pregnancy coffee dates, and despite your complaints about the extra laundry, you do love spending time with her, however it may be. With your family living in the Night Court and you being heavily pregnant in the Spring Court, it’s easy to feel lonely, but Mor winnows in and catches up with you as if you never left. Aside from her visits, you keep busy preparing for the baby’s arrival by repeatedly cleaning and shuffling things around until it's just right.

Today's list of tasks includes organizing the new clothes in the baby’s dresser, dusting—a task that seems pointless in the Spring Court—and baking snickerdoodle muffins because the baby wants snickerdoodle muffins.

Lucien has had to remind you numerous times to take it easy. He frequently comes home to find you doing something you are not supposed to and swiftly ushers you to a chair. Pregnancy has not been the kindest to you, but you haven’t let it slow you down yet. You wouldn’t be his relentlessly energetic mate if you just sat around doing something mundane like knitting.

Before discovering you were pregnant, you and Lucien spent your days outdoors or traveling across Prythian and the Continent. You were far from being a passive couple. Besides, the basket storing away the yarn and needles became riddled with dust ages ago. It was a lovely gift from a Lord in the Day Court after your wedding ceremony inside the palace, but the longest you’ve sat still was when your previous High Lord, Rhysand, let you hold his son Nyx during a casual meeting in the River House. Babysitting Nyx occasionally has helped ease some of your worries about becoming a mother. Still, your mind was in a constant war between being confident in your abilities and thinking the absolute worst would happen and you would fail at being a mother.

Lucien has been your unwavering support during the most challenging days, helping you combat negative thoughts. He reminds you to breathe and trust that both of you will be loving, nurturing parents. You don’t know if it’s just everyday prenatal stress or the hormones making you an anxious, compulsive mess, but Lucien has remained his kind, witty, and ever-attentive self. He always knows what you need, whether you are cleaning the house inside-out until your feet swell or crying and raging about being out of sugar, and now ‘the baby will be sad.’ He bites down his retort about the baby's inability to conceptualize anything about the situation every time. Instead, he holds you, massages your feet, and goes to the shops as soon as they open.

When you first found out you were pregnant, it was after a trip to the Summer Court with Lucien as his plus-one on an emissary trip. The two of you had dined on shrimp and pasta among Tarquin and his courtiers. After dinner, Lucien attended a private meeting with Tarquin, Cresseida, and Varian while you returned to your shared suite. As you bathed and got ready for bed, you noticed you felt nauseous but thought you must have overindulged during dinner. You had just opened your nightly read when the urge to vomit was too strong to swallow down. You ran to the toilet and heaved until there was nothing left. Afterward, you brushed your teeth and requested a servant bring you a cup of ginger tea. You didn’t initially tell Lucien for fear he would fuss over you instead of focusing on why you were in the Summer Court. You had hoped an ingredient just didn’t settle well with your stomach and you would feel better shortly.

The trip lasted for three days, and as per Summer Court, every dish contained seafood. After each meal, you found yourself in the nearest bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten. Lucien became concerned, noticing that you would run off, but you assured him you were fine and that the spices were giving you an upset stomach. He gave you a skeptical look, not believing your excuse due to your frequent travels and exposure to various cuisines. Still, he accepted you were keeping your bathroom habits private, as any gentleman would.

When you touched down in the Spring Court, and Lucien ran off to meet with Tamlin, you found the nearest healer. Something was wrong. You loved seafood. Not every Summer Court dish is delicious, particularly the scallop omelet, but shrimp was one of your favorites, and you threw it up every time. The meals made you sick after you ate, and the smells began to nauseate you as soon as they appeared on the table.

You were shocked when the healer informed you nothing was wrong but that you were pregnant. Your mind became a torrent of different emotions: fear, excitement, hope, and more fear. You and Lucien had stopped taking contraceptive tonics years ago with the knowledge you could become pregnant, but something about it happening made you question everything. Were you ready for a baby? What if Lucien changed his mind and didn’t want children with you? Would you be a good mother? The internal turmoil had paralyzed you, rooting you to the ottoman before the fireplace. That’s how Lucien found you after he met with Tamlin, and he knelt by your side, asking you what was wrong. You hesitated initially, but Lucien whispered encouragement in your ear, and you eventually told him you were pregnant. His gold and russet eyes lit up joyfully and immediately soothed your worries. He assured you he still wanted children with you— lots of them, even–that you would be the best mother, and between his salary and both of your families, obtaining everything the baby would need would be no problem.

A few months into your pregnancy, you and Lucien went on ‘Tour De Baby,’ as he called it, celebrating the news with family and friends. The two of you attended a formal dinner with Tamlin, and Helion and Lady Autumn hosted a baby shower. Eris insisted on visiting him and the hounds so they could ‘learn the kit’s scent,’ and your family in the Inner Circle guided you and Lucien on a rare, non-alcoholic night out through Velaris. Seeing your families so excited to meet your little one made your heart swell with adoration and gratitude. Even if your family was spread across three courts, your baby has a formidable village of warriors and High Lords who loved them endlessly, and that was more than you could ever ask for.

The tantalizing scent of snickerdoodle muffins baking in the oven filled the cozy cottage as you set out to rearrange the baby's room. As you surveyed the room, you realized the crib was too close to the window. What if the moon's light wakes up the little one? You quickly decided to move it. Then, you noticed a framed picture precariously hanging above the changing table. You couldn't risk it falling and hurting the baby, so you made a mental note to relocate it as well. As you stepped back, you noticed that the dresser seemed slightly off-center, prompting you to adjust its position.

Lucien heard a distinct dragging sound across the wooden floor as he walked through the front door. Curious, he followed the noise and poked his head into the room. "Release the dresser immediately," he demanded, a playful glint in his eyes. "What exactly are you up to, my sly little fox?" A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed your blush.

“I was just tidying a few things up,” you replied sheepishly, putting the dresser back on the ground.

With a playful smirk, he hoisted the dresser and carefully set it in its new spot, perfectly aligned against the wall. Sauntering over to where you stood, he took hold of your hands and teased, "Is destroying our poor floors your idea of tidying up?”

You inhale sharply, glancing around the room and blinking back tears. “I just want everything to be perfect,” you whispered.

Lucien’s face softened with understanding as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping one arm around your waist and cradling your head with the other. “I know, my love, but do you know what I want?”

“For your mother to send me her apple pie recipe?”

He chuckled before shaking his head. “I’m not opposed, but no. I want you to be healthy. I want our baby to be healthy. And then I want all of us to be happy. That’s it. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

The dam of tears you held back burst as you listened to your partner's sincere words. “I feel like there’s so much left to do. I know we have gotten so much done, but I can’t help but stress about what else we can do,” you whined.

“Oh, darling,” he sighed. He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Perhaps you subconsciously feel the more work you find, the more ready you will feel, but that is not how it works, unfortunately. We still have two months left, but I promise you we will be ready. You are ready. I have complete faith that you will be a natural once our kit is born. As for being physically ready, you’ve handled it all, my love. All that shopping with Mor and planning lists with Feyra paid off. I told you to leave some work for me,” he winked.

You snorted, smacking his chest lightly. “You’ve hardly let me do anything. You made me sit in that chair,” you pointed to the rocking chair in the corner, “while you built the crib, installed the bookshelf, and made me stay at Tamlin’s manor for two days while you painted the room.”

“Technically, it only took one day to paint and one more for the fumes to air out,” he quipped.

Before you could roll your eyes, the smell of burning cinnamon hit your nose. “Muffins!” You turned away from Lucien and waddled quickly towards the kitchen.

Lucien laughed as he followed after you. “I was wondering what sort of concoction you had brewing in there.”

“The baby asked for snickerdoodle muffins, and what kind of mother would I be to deny my child before they’ve even left the womb?”

“Ah yes, this telepathic connection between the two of you. Pray tell, what else does our little kit ask for,” he asked, leaning on his hands, watching you from across the island that separated you as you pulled the muffin pan out of the oven.

Placing the pan on the counter, you hummed before looking up at Lucien. “Well, since you’re asking,” you smiled deviously, “a nice warm bath complete with a massage. And chocolates.”

He licked his lips as he moved closer to you. “I can’t deny my child before they’ve left the womb, now can I? I shall run you a bath this instant.”

You giggled as he kissed the crown of your head and rubbed your belly before leaving the room. Staring at the muffins on the counter, you couldn’t resist eating one while they were fresh and steaming right in front of you. The crumbs of cinnamon and sugar crunched between your teeth as the bready muffin melted on your tongue, and an involuntary moan escaped you. Your baby may not be born yet, but they certainly have good taste in pastries.

“My love,” Lucien called. “I have a warm, lavender-scented bath ready for you.”

“Coming,” you mumbled, swallowing the last of the muffin before rounding the corner and trailing after Lucien.

As you walked through your bedroom and into the ensuite bathroom, you practically groaned in pleasure at the sight. Steam rose from the clawfoot tub, courtesy of Lucien’s heating powers, and bubbles covered the water's surface. You slipped off your clothes, and Lucien held your hand as you entered the tub. He quickly followed, chucking his clothes onto the floor next to yours.

You leaned back onto his chest as he sat behind you, thick, muscular thighs caging you in between them. “This is nice,” you sighed. The bubbles came up to your breastbone as your body slumped against his, but your bump protruded slightly out of the water's comforting warmth.

He hummed in agreement, grabbing a folded washcloth and submerging it in the water before gingerly running it across your arms. “It is the least you deserve,” he murmured. “I cannot thank you enough for carrying our child.”

You looked at him over your shoulder and smiled. “You don’t have to thank me, Luc. I love you, and I love our baby. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“I know you do,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “but I also know being pregnant is no easy feat. First, there was constant nausea and vomiting; now, it’s insomnia, swelling, and back pain. Not to mention the mental toll it takes on you, worrying day and night about what our baby will need, and as much as I hate that you’re so worried, your concern is how I’m sure you'll be a wonderful mother.”

“You can't know that,” you grumbled. “Preparing for it and living it is not the same thing.”

Lucien lathered shampoo in his hands and began to scrub your scalp. “Perhaps, but after believing Beron was my father for most of my life, maybe I’m just content in knowing we can love our child without that monster looming over us. Knowing I will never be like him and you, being an angel sent from the heavens, I think we’re quite set. All I ever wanted was for my future children to be safe, especially in their own home, and they will be.”

You sighed as he rinsed the soap out of your hair, one hand shielding your eyes from the suds. “That is a perspective I haven't considered. I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“Don’t apologize, my love. I only mentioned it because I want you to feel as content as I do. I don't want you spending your first pregnancy fretting over the little things when what's most important is that both of you are okay. We don't know what the future holds, and things could change in the blink of an eye, but in the meantime, I want us to love each other and enjoy ourselves while our kit gets ready for their debut.”

You intertwined your hands with his as you gave him a peck on the lips. “Thank you. You always know what to say to bring me back to Earth. I don't know what I would do without you.”

“Oh, I have a few ideas. Starting with rearranging this house until labor forced you to stop, you stubborn female.”

A soft giggle escaped you as you leaned further into Lucien’s chest. “The day can not come soon enough. My back might break if my stomach gets any bigger.”

Lucien chuckled as he caressed your bump with his large palm. Despite how huge you felt, his hand could still cover the top of your stomach, reminding you that you were, in fact, not actually the size of a mammoth. “I hate to tell you that our little fox is not done growing and will get bigger, but-” he leaned over your shoulder to kiss the bump, “I can assure you that you are unbreakable, my brave and resilient mate. Pregnancy is nothing compared to the battles you’ve overcome, but after this battle, we will be blessed with a precious baby in return, and they will be ours to cherish alone.”

You craned your neck to gaze up at him. “We’re going to have to share them every now and then, you know that right,” you teased.

A soft growl rumbled through his chest before he nipped at your nose, eliciting your squeal. “We don’t have to do anything. We could hide in the woods and live like cave dwellers. No one could make us leave.”

“Well, technically, Tamlin could, being High Lord and all.” You trailed off as he began to leave kisses along your neck.

Lucien hummed, the placement of his lips on your throat sending vibrations coursing straight through you. “I’d like to see him try. I do believe he owes me, coming back to help him repair his court and all,” he teases.

“Would he be grateful enough not to mind his Emissary and wife living in his woods like animals? We might scare the villagers.”

“Darling, if the villagers can’t handle two Fae harmlessly prancing about the woods, they are in the wrong court. Their High Lord turns into a beast, for cauldron's sake.”

You laughed, clenching your eyes shut and squeezing your thighs together lest you pee yourself. “I can’t believe I forgot that. My stupid pregnancy brain has me forgetting everything, including changing out my slippers for shoes before leaving the house. I was halfway to town before I realized.”

"Was that the day you asked me to go to the shops for more strawberry jam after you had said you were going to fetch it yourself," he chuckled.

“Yep,” you grimaced. “I had to turn around. That was a whole trip in itself. No way I was walking back to the shops.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I told you to take it easy, not run around town like a headless chicken.” You smacked his arm for referring to you as a chicken, and he kissed your cheek in apology. “I will handle the shopping from now on. You needn’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

“Oh, so now I have a head?”

“You’re a wicked thing when you want to be.” He rose from the tub, reaching for the towels before stepping onto the rug. “Come on out, love. The water is getting cold, and I still owe you a massage.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” your eyes brightened as you took his hand and let him wrap you in a soft, fluffy towel.

You held hands as the two of you walked into your bedroom, cast in the warm glow of flickering candles. Lucien changed into sleep pants while you slipped on a silk nightgown. You sat down at your vanity, and before you could reach for your hairbrush, Lucien grabbed it. “Let me,” he murmured.

Smiling at him appreciatively over your shoulder, you nodded and closed your eyes as he gently brushed through your hair. He was careful to start at the ends with light strokes and work his way up to your roots, mindful of how fragile hair can be while wet. Starting at your hairline, he separated your hair into three sections and began to tie your hair into a french braid. It became your favorite way to style your hair for bed due to all the night sweats you’ve had during pregnancy. Sleeping while pregnant was still uncomfortable, but getting all your hair off your neck helped tremendously with not overheating at night.

“So beautiful,” Lucien whispered, trailing his fingertips down your arms. You made eye contact with him through the mirror and couldn’t stop the blush that crept upon your cheeks. “Let’s get you in bed now, my love.”

You let him lead you to the bed in the middle of the room and watched him pull back the covers. He sat down first, to your surprise, and patted the spot between his legs. You giggled but situated yourself between his thighs and pulled the covers up to your waist.

“First, the chocolate I promised.” He handed you a bowl of small rectangles of dark chocolate. You moaned and popped a piece into your mouth as you grabbed the bowl and placed it in your lap. “Now for that massage,” he leaned over to the side table and picked up the bottle of oil, shaking a few drops on the palm of his hand and rubbing them together. You pulled your braid over your shoulder and let the straps of your nightgown slip down enough for Lucien to access your back. “Where does it feel the most sore?”

“Along my spine and lower back,” you replied, chewing another piece of chocolate.

He hummed in acknowledgment and began to massage your back. Starting at the top of your spine, he ran his knuckles down your back, releasing the tension with his motions. He moved on to massaging circles into your lower back with his thumbs, and the pressure was heaven-sent in such a sore spot.

You don’t know how long you sat there feeling every ounce of love and care he put into relieving your pain. Your eyes remained shut, and you’d never admit that you may have dozed off a couple of times, only once or twice, with a piece of chocolate in your mouth.

After the massage, you leaned back onto his chest, placing the chocolates and oil back on the table, and he wrapped his arms around your bump to lift it. He dipped his chin down to your shoulder and kissed your neck softly. “Does that feel any better, darling?”

Exhaustion consuming you, you could only hum and nod. Lucien chuckled, turned off the flames with a snap, and shifted your bodies so that your head rested on his chest as he pulled you into his side. “Goodnight, my love,” he kissed your temple. “And goodnight, my little fox,” he splayed his hand on top of your bump and rubbed his thumb in soothing circles as you fell asleep.