#baby you don't have to worry bout it

[robofaggots]

been sexting some guy in a server and it's been fun, but man. dude's freaking out over the fact that he accidentally fell asleep towards the end of the night and now i gotta jump in to make sure they don't beat themself up over it

[lazysunjade]

I R E L L I A N |

pov: you're the mc in an otome game. the third route tells the story of Irellian, a flower spirit with the tempestuous nature of spring. he is both soft and gentle, but in a snap moment can become stormy and unforgiving, so take care to speak politely. Irellian is well-liked and sought after, and enjoys most attention. he adores gifts and flatteries and will wear both with great pride.

[edensrose]

𐔌 𖹭 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 . ִֶָ๋

ᡴꪫ. smut & oral 𖹭 f. reader 𖹭 part 2 ˖ ࣪ꮽ˳

satoru refuses to let you suck him off.

he'll swim between your legs for hours. until his lower face is all glossy and eyes glazed the pussy-drunk daze while he needily laps on your cunt.

but the second you're even beginning to oggle his tent and lower yourself to your knees? he's yanking you up and splaying you over the nearest piece of furniture he can. can't suck his dick when you're dangling over his desk now can you?

at first you assumed maybe he's just not into that. maybe he doesn't feel comfortable with it. you can respect that —

until you found out the real reason.

"I wanna make you feel good instead, baby." you could barely take his pouting seriously as he hovered over you, bare. he'd lean down to nuzzle your neck with a few kisses to follow. "don't want you to worry 'bout me too much. feel good making you feel good."

which started the long and frankly, trifling operation: suck satoru gojo's dick.

the idea that he felt bad over the idea of you pleasuring him reminded you of the same reason you fell in love with him in the first place. no way in hell are you ending this year without getting your boyfriend's cock down your throat!

this strings a series of, honestly, comedic events. you went with the obvious, waking him up with it. you planned strategically, trained yourself to wake up just an hour before him and awaited for the perfect time to strike.

you only got to pulling the waistband of his boxers down before bright blue eyes stared you down, processed, and yanked you over his face instead.

damnit. maybe during a movie? he's so engrossed in his latest geek obsession that surely he wouldn't notice your head lowering, right? until you were nuzzling his crotch through the blanket and he jerked, squeaked, spilling the bowl of popcorn.

"no no no don't even —" buzz.

infinity!? he put infinity on?

"satoru. gojo." you warn through glaring eyes. it ended with you strung over the sofa arm with two, strong hands holding you down while he's ball's deep. fucking you dumb through the end credits with a mean thumb to your swollen clit.

"yeah baby? yeah? so impatient for me huh?" anything to get your mind off of the previous agenda.

don't even try the shower. his hand buried into your hair, yanked you off and then hoisted you. shoved you into the wet tiles to instead get bullied by his cock. legs helplessly strung around his waist while his ragged pants found your ear.

"pretty girl's just so needy huh? wants my cock so bad? you can have it baby, don' worry."

hell, even after a busy week where he's deflated across your bed and you're grinding on him to get you both there. your slick heat coating his pulsating dick. catching his tip on your clit and spilling your joined moans through the room.

the second you tried your luck he's shuffling for a pillow with a rushed; "he's shy! leave him be!"

it seemed that your little operation was failing miserably. satoru is just too fast for you. too infuriatingly good at making your mind go blank with his tongue, mouth or dick. you'd forget what you even started in the first place. but you're a stubborn woman.

so, what's the next scheme?

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

[vaspider]

Tonight, the night before Election Day 2024 in the US, I am thinking about my stepkid.

I am thinking about the phone call they made to us earlier this year, the one where they told us they'd gone to the hospital thinking they had appendicitis and found out, instead, that a zygote - a tiny splodge of cells - had taken up residence not in their uterus but in a fallopian tube. The one where our kid said they were waiting for their partner to arrive, hoped that said partner would get there before the docs took our kid back to terminate that pregnancy, & assured us that they'd be okay.

After all, our kid lives in a state with choice measures embedded in state law. That pea-sized blot of tissue doesn't have more right to their health than they do. Nobody is standing between them and their doctors. They made a decision, and that was that.

In this tiny tragedy, the kind that plays out dozens of times a day at minimum across the country, we only had to worry about the small risk of surgery complications. We didn't have to worry about Ken Paxton threatening to charge their doctors with felonies. We didn't have to think, "What if the hospital's legal team doesn't think an ectopic pregnancy - which is never ever viable and must be terminated before it kills our kid - is really that big of a deal?" We didn't have to worry that they live in a state where ob-gyns are fleeing, leaving few experts behind, as has happened in Idaho.

We didn't have to watch our kid vomit up black blood before dying the day after their baby shower the way Neveah's mom did. We didn't have to pray in a waiting room (while doctors took our kid apart until their heart stopped because the doctors waited too long out of fear of anti-choice laws) until a doctor came to tell us we'd have to bury them the way that Amber's mom did. We aren't having to pick up our lives after fully treatable miscarriage-related sepsis took them from us the way that Josseli's husband and daughter must.

I could go on for far, far too long.

Listen. If you are a single-issue non-voter and have already decided that "both parties are the same" or whatever other thing you've told yourself so you can sleep at night, smug and secure, then I can't reach you and I can't help you. But if you genuinely think that your votes don't matter, if you're just suffering from a bout of overwhelm or apathy, if you're too young to remember the 2000 election and can't see that Dobbs is a direct result of that election and every one that's followed, please, I am fucking begging you.

I didn't really talk about this when it happened. I mentioned something briefly, maybe. The posts I've started writing about it are still in my drafts. It was too fresh, too frightening. It's not any less frightening now, honestly - because if this week doesn't end with President Kamala Harris, we're headed for a national abortion ban, at the minimum - but it's not about how fucking frightened I was or how sad and bewildered I was to realize that my kid was going through this crisis in a nation more hostile to them than when I needed a D&C for an abortion at 21, in 1998.

It's about stopping this chapter of this fucking bullshit and at least finding some new fucking bullshit.

Vote, dammit.

Do the other work on Wednesday. Tomorrow, the work is to vote.

[nochepsicodelica]

Even more bear boyfriend Toji thoughts, because when is he not on the mind?

Naps, naps, naps, and more naps. He drags you into naps with him all the time. If he's going to nap, you best believe you're taking a nap too. He uses very little of his strength when it comes to holding you because he doesn't want to crush you or make you uncomfortable, but sometimes you try and fight your way out of his arms because you don't want to take a nap. You're not tired, but he is, and it's truly not his fault he grew accustomed to holding you whenever he's sleeping. It's become a habit now and he can't sleep at all without you around. Moments when you don't want to nap are when he does have to hold onto you a little tighter so that you tire yourself out as you try to free yourself from his arms. Eventually, you surrender and stop wasting your efforts on something impossible, and Toji lets out a satisfied sigh, before burying his face into the crook of your neck. You fall asleep at three in the afternoon and don't wake up until eight at night sometimes because when you start to stir awake, he hums and coos at you in his sleepy voice. It's always 'Not yet, mama. Still tired...' and 'Stop moving, pretty...' or 'aw, looks like you still need sleep, baby. I'll sleep with you, don't worry...' Supposed naps turn into hours of sleep with him :(

Will pull on your clothes for many reasons. You're on the phone, leaning against the kitchen counter and he's tugging on the back of your shirt to get you to turn around and look at him. You nod at him in question and he just grins before latching onto you from behind, burying his face into your back. If you're adventuring together, walking around and you start to wander off without him, he tugs on the hood of your sweater and brings you back to where he is, making you walk those same steps all over again, this time with him. Sometimes he'll pull down the neckline of your shirt to look at your boobs just because he's a total perv like that.

Size kink who? Size kink Toji. Loves knowing he's bigger and physically stronger than you. He loves when you shove him during a fit of anger, because he's grounded—he doesn't move at all and it pisses you off even more. When you refuse to talk to him after an argument that's gone on for too long (an hour </3) he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You can kick and yell for him to put you down all you want, but he won't put you down until the argument is resolved. He can't have you trying to run off every time you're in a room together. He cages you in with his arms sometimes, when he wants to be all you can see, hear, smell and feel. You should be just as obsessed with him as he is with you. He uses this proximity to steal as many kisses from you as he wants, really taking the opportunity to showcase how small you are compared to him when you can't move from the position he has you in.

He's a total bear even when it comes to his bouts of jealousy. Someone stares at you for more than three seconds and he's quick to block their view of you. He stands beside you, covering you so that the stranger gets a view of his back, instead. If you're standing in line at a restaurant or coffee shop, waiting to order something and someone keeps chatting you up after you've continuously let the conversation die, he steps in. Especially, if he notices that their eyes wander away from yours, to your lips or your chest, wherever. He's not loud about it verbally, but the way he'll just pull you back a few steps into him so he can wrap himself around you screams possession. You laugh off the gesture and finish off your response to the stranger. They don't try to talk to you anymore afterwards because the way Toji stared daggers at them was scary.

Toji constantly reminds you that you're more than enough for him. When you cook for him, when you spoil him in return with things you think he may like. He always loves them because you bought them for him. There are moments when he turns from this ferocious, obsessive, enormous bear, to the smallest, most adorable cub. He's a little more quiet, but his eyes are just as expressive. He stays in one spot for a while even if you're not there. He doesn't go looking for you, he can hear you whistling as you wash dishes, but it's not like he doesn't want you around. He just thinks sometimes. Thinks about how good things are with you—thinks about what he has and he feels like he could be crushed by it all. These are the moments where you step in and make him feel extra loved. You tell him that he's good to you and that he makes you feel safe. You tell him that you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. Up until one of those moments, there was always the dilemma of whether he was a sunrise or a sunset. You finally made your decision. "You're my sunset, baby." You always know just what to say to bring him back. Toji laughed because it made absolutely no sense, but you loved on him after saying it, like it was something real— like it's normal to categorize someone as a sunrise or sunset. Regardless of how dumb it sounds out loud, if he's your sunset, you're his sunrise.

(NSFW Below)

His hands are enormous. His fingers are long and thick and he loves being able to hold you down with just one of his hands while he works his fingers in and out of you. While you squirm and whimper in his lap, embarrassed at the mess you're making on his pants, he simply coos at you, finding the whole thing endearing. You can't control the mess you're making on him. He can, and he doesn't want it to stop. Sometimes, during moments like this where you're all teary eyed in his arms, your body trembling and trying to shrink against him as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you, he wants to hold you so tightly in his arms that you genuinely struggle to breathe or maybe crack a rib. The kisses he presses into the side of your face actually sting at some point because of the way he's so harsh and he's nipping at your skin. He wants to bite your shoulder so hard that he draws blood, he wants to pinch your tummy until his fingers leave marks on it. His bouts of cuteness aggression are no joke.

Loves when you try to take control, always so confident that you can do it, that you can ride him until you both cum. He's not gonna say anything, but he knows how you are, so he just lets it happen. His hands are on your hips, your hands on his chest as you bounce on his dick for as long as you can. You can feel yourself growing tired. Your chest is heaving and your thighs burn from the exertion. Your moans are released into the air through heavy breaths, your eyes twinkling as you realize you're right there. "C-Can't, I can't... so tired..." and Toji just looks up at you with the most lovestruck expression, a tint of pink dusted on his cheeks. You're adorable. "That's okay, mama. Let me." And he lays you onto your back, before finishing you off and finishing himself off. He cradles you afterward like you're something temporary that he doesn't want to let go of and you both end up falling asleep.

Sighhh Toji is a total bear boyfriend </3

[chuluoyi]

✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

[tsukuhoe]

˙ . ꒷ SHORT N' SWEET .ᐟ.ᐟ

⋮ VARIOUS!JJK X READER .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

𐔌 synopsis ⋮ oh no! new hit popstar, y/n l/n, "broke up" with her situationship due to suspicions of him cheating! no worries though, she's about to release a super hot n' new album dedicated to his bs! short n' sweet! now what happens when this major breakthrough album catches the attention of the famous agency: special grade management?! [+ other celebs]

𐔌 content warnings ⋮ MDNI! female reader, modern & no curse au, social media au, written in 2nd person pov, age gaps, angst, love triangle but with 6 sides, frenemies, reunited friends (more like reunited hook up), friends to lovers, fan x idol, second chance romance, opposites attract, “fixing him” trope, SLOW BURNNN, profanity  & crude humour, micro-cheating/cheating, heavy references to sex, smut, suggestive jokes, “kys” jokes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, mentions of substance abuse, depression & anxiety, YEARNINGGG, PINING— lots n’ lots of pining (ouch), sabrina carpenter’s music is used for y/n & joji’s music is used for geto, warnings may change as the story progresses. "💋" indicates written parts

𐔌 status ⋮  [11/15/24] ongoing, updates (at least) every sunday! taglist closed. please have age indicated on blog! MDNI, you will be blocked lol

⋮ MAIN CAST  ֹ⋮  ֹPRIVATE ACCOUNTS  ⋮  ֹETCֹ ⋮

01 ⋮ so act like a stand up guy // 02 ⋮ don't prove i'm right // 03 ⋮ walked in and dream-came-trued - [💋] // 04 ⋮ who's the cute guy with the wide blue eyes // 05 ⋮ everyone rolls their eyes // 06 ⋮ i know i have good judgement // 07 ⋮ when they act this way i know, i got em - [💋] // 08 ⋮ now he's thinkin bout me // 09 ⋮ holy shit // 10 ⋮ please please please - [💋] // 11 ⋮ heartbreak is one thing // 12 ⋮ my ego's another // 13 ⋮ who's the cute boy with the white sweatshirt - [💋] // 14 ⋮ you do something suspect as cute as bye bye // 15 ⋮ i beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker // 16 ⋮ if that was casual, then i'm an idiot // 17 ⋮ make me juno - [💋] // 18 ⋮ isn't that sweet? // 19 ⋮ i can't relate to desperation // 20 ⋮ heard you're back together // 21 ⋮ i don't waste a second, i know lots of guys // 22 ⋮ baby, i know - [💋] // 23 ⋮ he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger // 24 ⋮ we love to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrest // 25 ⋮ lie to girls // 26 ⋮ cherry-pick lines // 27 ⋮ it's a sign of the times // 28 ⋮ tba...

. ꒷ TAG LIST .ᐟ.ᐟ [CLOSED 50/50] @celloccino @shokosbunny @nymphsdomain @alpha-mommy69 @soulairess @poopooindamouf @reyna-isabellaa @justamina-blog @koreluvsspring @mayhemfellasleep @clamousera @roxy776699 @l-ilysm @ayla-1605 @kaemaybae @starmapz @gigiiiiislife @puppyminnnie @desideityy @yuhig-blog @kaiiibxby @ami20019 @kentochronicles @missthatgirl @lauuriiiz @emi311 @lunavelha @coffeeisbehindyou @freakadelick @theclassbookworm @ladytamayolover @tojirin @fuckisthatahotghost @odxrilove @perqbeth @rxi-n-lyche3 @sugoroo @mentallyunpresent @naviaberries @wil10wthetree @thesharkcollector @harryzcherry @ghost-buddies @tearshedder @mourn1ng-dov3 @hellokittyish @good-mourning0 @shoma-nom @elegancefr @norikuna

[dearhargrove]

F!reader combing through Sergei’s hair as he lays his head in her lap… so sweet! 💖

word count 680

There were few tells if Sergei has had a rough hunt. For one, he's clingy – more so than usual. Second, he's constantly messing with his hair. Be it running his fingers through the curls, pushing them behind his ears just to run his fingers through his hair and have it fall back into his eyes or simply him fiddling with it.

No matter what, it always ended up a tangled mess that he rarely had the patience to deal with. Insert you. If there's one thing you have patience for, it's him. Especially when it comes down to taking care of him, which he so rarely lets you, the need to never be vulnerable still ingrained into his mind by his father.

However, slowly but surely he's been adapting. Small tells that indicate he wants you to just baby him for a moment, to let him relax in a way he usually only can when he sleeps out in the woods.

For example now. You've been sitting on the couch, reading your book, for only about thirty minutes now, cozy. When he comes home you acknowledge him with a soft smile and accept the peck he presses to your lips when he makes his way past you and into the bathroom for a shower.

First hint that his hunt hadn't gone as planned was his frown and the lingering hand on your shoulder, a silent demand for you to join his shower. Which you usually would have but you had just showered earlier yourself and the book was just too good to put down. So, he had a quick shower just to come out sulking, tiny pout on his face and frown even more prominent.

You suppose he either has no clue how obvious he's being about his need for affection or he knows exactly but still doesn't want to make the first move. And you'd love to see him keep pouting and being sulky, but you have too big of a soft spot to leave him be.

The perfect opportunity arises when you see the tangled mess of his hair and his tense movements. He usually cared for his curls just enough to keep them healthy and looking good but when his day has been really bad he doesn't bother to do anything. Especially because it will guarantee you sitting him down and carefully brushing and oiling his hair (which he'll never admit he loves so much that he has to fight falling asleep every single time).

“Sergei?”

He turns to look at you, lip twitching in a silent wince as something in his back pinches and pulls tight. “Hm?” he grunts in reply.

You put a bookmark between the pages you were just reading and set it aside, then pat your lap.

He remains stoic for a second and then walks over, steps as silent as always. He lays down with a grunt, head in your lap and feet over the edge of the sofa. You grab the brush from the coffee table (left there just a few days ago when he'd demanded you to brush his hair) and start carefully combing out the knots and ends. His expression softens up, eyes keenly watching you.

He turns his head sideways so you can reach the back of his head and occasionally lets you turn his head the way you need to. “Did you pull something in your back?” you inquire, the difference in his movements still at the forefront of your mind.

“Don't worry ‘bout it, love,” he grunts, ready to just wait out the injury. You furrow your brows and pinch his shoulder in warning, making him sigh. “It's not too bad. Just need to do some stretching.”

Halfway satisfied with that answer and mentally noting to keep an eye on it, you keep combing out his hair until it's nice and smooth again, wayward curls framing his face prettily.

You reach down to cup his cheek and smile softly, making him lean in and kiss the pulse point of your wrist, lingering there and just breathing you in. Just like that your book is forgotten for the moment as you massage his scalp and let him place kisses all along your arm that is resting over his chest.

[katiascraft]

﹙MV1﹚ ── ❝ am i enough? ❞

summary: max feels insecure about his body :( (so you comfort him)

warnings: none. it's just pure fluff.

author's note: first time writting 'bout max. short but i just felt i had to write this for some reason. hope it isn't stupid. love you all <3

blog masterlist

Max was taking a shower in the in-room bathroom of our ensuite bedroom in your Monaco house. It was quiet in the monegasque night. You were getting in your pajamas not thinking much about the world and trying to tidy up the room a bit because none of you had time to actually tidy all of it up the proper way. But this will make it for now. 

You heard the shower turned off. Max seemed off all day. He was unusually quiet. You tried to comfort him as much as you could but something was going on in that head of his. But you didn’t want to pressure him nor invade his space when he feels like this. Even if you don’t know what's actually going on with him. You just knew he felt sad. The look in his eyes said it all to you but respected him and let him take his time until he wants to talk about it. 

After a few minutes Max finally gets out of the bathroom. To your surprise he is fully dressed and with the hood of his hoodie over his head. You frown a bit when you see him. This is very unlike max, you thought. He usually walks around th house in just boxers with not a single care. So this was worrying. 

He didn’t say a word. He just crawled into the bed and adjusted himself under the sheets. You looked at him a bit worried and even though you wanted to let him take his time, you needed to check in. 

“Max, are you ok?” your voice was soft and low. You didn’t want to make him feel pressured with the questions. He stopped looking at his phone. Tiktoks could be heard playing on his screen. He blocked it and paid attention to you. “You've been off all day baby, do you want to talk about it? No pressure” you continued looking at him in the eyes trying to figure out what was going on with him but unable to anyway. 

He licked his lips nervously “i’m not okay” his voice was below whisper and you thought you heard a crack. That made sirens in your head turn on. You crawled the bed and laid next to him.

“What’s wrong baby?” you said gently caressing his hair. Worry all over your eyes expecting his answer.

He took his time trying to find some comfort in your gentle gesture. He was a bit ashamed of his feelings even when it came to you. 

“I just looked in the mirror this morning and i didnt like what ive seen to be honest” his voice was shaky between hurt and anxiety. He didn't want to be judged but even though he knew you wouldn't, his pattern because of childhood trauma was still there. Triggering him all the damn time. And sometimes, like today, it takes it stoll in him. 

Your heart broke listening to him saying all of those words aloud. That’s because you got him so well. 

“Baby, I got you. But you’re so beautiful my love. Don’t let those evil voices in your head win” you said, understanding him and trying to give him some comfort. He looked at you with puppy eyes. He was in the book of crying with his lips pouting.

“You really think I'm enough?” His voice is so tiny and shaky. This is so heartbreaking. You got closer to him so you could look each other in the eye and feel you close. You grabbed his face gently, caressing his cheek sweet. 

“Maxie, my love, you’re more than enough. You’re so fucking beautiful max emilian, everytime i look at you the only thing i can see is beauty” you tried to reassured him. He couldn’t look at your eyes anymore or else he would start crying. 

“But I don't have a pretty face nor a good body. I'm not like danny or lewis or even charles.they look good, i don't. I look squishy… i don't like it at all” his voice now expressed a bit of anger. You assumed it was rustration. You shook your head looking at him and trying to find his eyes again. 

“Baby, don’t compare yourself. You’re beautiful in your own way. You have a pretty face, you have a good hell of a body. Max, you’re so hot i can’t even control myself most times” you tried to make him laugh but he smiled at best. Your heart ached for him. “I know it's hard , okay? I know you’re exposed to the world to see and to have an opinion on you. And that must be really hard for you to deal with. I know. And people are mean and will comment so much nonsense just to hurt you. That’s all they want. Don't let them win, baby. They say ugly things about you for a reason, right? Because you’re too hot, too good and a fucking world champion. They can’t cope with that much in one single person.” finally you made him giggle a little. You smiled sweetly at him. 

He hugged you, hiding his face on your neck. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, caressing his back gently. 

“So am i enough?” he asked in a whisper. Your hand on his hair makes him feel safe. 

“More than enough, maxie. You’re gorgeous and I can not be more obsessed with you. "You kissed his head softly. And you didn’t see him but he has a smile on his face now. 

“I love you, y/n” he said, pressing a soft kiss on our neck. That sent shivers down your spine and smiled sweetly. 

“Love you my super hot and fast formula one racing driver, no one can compete with you” you said cheeky and made him giggle. When he got apart you say he cried but hid. It broke your heart a little but you understood. Gently you whipped his tears with your thumb. 

“And i love my super duper beautiful, caring, loving and perfect girlfriend” he said now making you giggle. You loved that man to death. 

And he loved you until forever falls apart.

˖ ֹ੭୧ the end ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

don't forget to like, reblog and comment i you liked it! and follow me so we can be friends <3 (and drink mate together)

[orphicsun]

can you write a pit fighter vi smut fic where the reader works at a restaurant in zaun and vi comes in drunk and starts flirting with her pretty please 😼

Thank you sm for the request:3 hope you enjoy!

Content: 1.5k words, dub-con (Vi is drunk), casual sex, use of strap-ons (r! recieving), oral sex (r! receiving), slight overstimulation, this is rlly filthy blame anonymous for giving me the ammo to write this

Your hands are busy with several plates and your feet are sore in your shoes. Customers in Zaun have no decorum, either!

Being a waitress is not fun, especially not in a dingy restaurant like "The Sludge Pit." It's where most people are coming back from watching fights next door and want a cheap meal. To say that you hate you job is an understatement. But...money is tight, so choices are limited. It could be worse. You could be a prostitute at Babette's.

You've heard rumors that the fight tonight is going to be huge. There's a recently been a new fighter people have been placing bets on - a girl named Vi. You've heard the name before, of course. Jinx's sister, someone who was involved with a Piltie girl. You hated to get involved with all of the drama in Piltover, though; it was all meaningless. It was all just pointless drama that ended in another person in Zaun getting the short end of the stick or dead without a proper burial. Whatever happened was so hard to care about when it felt like an everyday thing.

However, something about the girl you've been hearing rumors about intrigued you. It is apparently often that this Vi chick is bulldozing men in the ring, getting drunk off her ass, and fucking Babette's whores. She got her heart broken, now she's all bitter, and you can't help but wonder what this girl is even like. What could she possibly be like when she's this well-known in the under-city?

It's around midnight. The fight is over because a huge crowd is occupying The Sludge Pit. You've got your poor hands full, tasked with scribbling down rude men's orders and serving them. Some are fucking creepy, too. You wonder if the Vi girl will be coming in tonight, but your curiosity is suddenly dashed when you hear the restaurant BOOMING with cheers from the main area.

When you walk out of kitchen, the first thing you see is the back left table seated with a black-haired girl. She's got no shirt on, just bandages that hug her body and a leather jacket. Her jeans are tightly fitted, sculpted onto her meaty things. The black pigment on her face is all messy. Next to her is a burly brunette man, facial hair covering most of his face. You've seen him before - "Loris."

When you approach Vi's table, she looks up at you and lets out a slight laugh. You look devourable, your hair back in two braids, fly-aways from the day's work. Your eyes are wide, and you look pretty terrified. Poor waitress. She's already decided that you're gonna be her next slut.

"Hi! I'll be your waitress today, what can I get for you-" Your voice is so shaky, oh fuck.

Usually, Vi wouldn't be so forward, but she just got back from the bar. There's too much liquid courage in her system, so now she's gonna get what she wants.

"Don't worry 'bout me, baby. Get my friend Loris here a burger."

You almost choke on your own spit.

Her voice isn't at all what you expected, not raspy or deep, but actually soft and persuasive. She's slurring her words slightly, but you're too focused on her eyes, the soft blue sparkle in them and the half-lidded, carefree look that is complimentary.

"Uhhh, okay! One burger coming right up!"

You soon come back with a shaky hand, plate in your palm. You set the burger down and look up down, adjusting your waitress skirt.

"One burger!"

Vi gives you a wide, lazy smile. Loris is just laughing, he's probably as drunk as her.

"Thanks, baby. How much will that be?"

"Ohhh....well, it's on the house. Since you won tonight, and all.." All rationale seems to leave you when Vi's calling you baby. Your boss is gonna chew you out for this, but the drunken giggle that leaves her mouth is so worth it.

"On the house? No, baby..c'mon, lemme pay."

You laugh and blow a stray strand of hair out out of your face. Her voice makes you imagine her throwing you around on your bed. "No, really, it's fine.."

"Hm..well, if you're not gonna let me use my money, why don't I pay you back in some other way?"

You stare at her for a second.

"What...?"

She chuckles at the cute but shocked look on your face. "Seriously. I wanna pay you back for the burger, since you're such a cute little waitress.."

She's got you in her twin-sized bed as she pounds into you at a pace you're surprised doesn't break the bed. You look utterly cock-drunk underneath her as her hips slam into yours: eyes practically rolled back into your noggin, whining on each and every thrust she gives your sopping pussy. Fuck, she's already obsessed with you.

Her hands are holding the back of your knees to keep you in position, and she pulls the cock halfway out of your pussy and slams back in, earning herself a wounded squeal from you.

"That's it, baby. Take all of my cock like a good girl," she coos, her eyes moving down to watch the hot-pink silicone disappear in your pretty pussy, and she's almost drooling at the sight.

"P-Please!! Please fuck me, oh my god!" You're screaming for her (soon you'll be creaming), and all Vi can think is how she wants to lick the cum out of your pussy when she's done plowing into you.

She laughs and spreads you legs back so she can hitch them around her own waist, still throwing sloppy thrusts into you. Your legs automatically wrap around her sides and she collapses onto your body, mouth wet and lazy on your throat. She's hardly thrusting now, just grinding up into your cunt like a dog in heat.

"Ohhh, fuckkk...this is the best pussy I've had in so fucking long, did you know that?" She's whimpering like she's not the one slinging strap..

You can't even answer with a proper response, only offering up a broken moan because in this position, the cockhead of the toy is bullying your sweet, spongey spot and making you see stars. By grinding into you, the base of the harness is catching on Vi's clit perfectly, making her her pace grow less and less composed She's fucking you like a touch deprived cave-man, for fuck's sake.

You hear feel her body tense up, and now she's pounding into you, each time your skin connects her body is pressing further into your, grinding her pussy against the harness, making you whine her name.

"You want me to cum inside you, huh? I bet you'd just love that. Wish I actually could cum inside this sweet little pussy." Her words grow more and more deranged the longer she's fucking you, and they send you right over the edge with a gasp and a cry out. For mercy, or for bliss, she isn't able to tell.

You poor legs are shaking around her waist and your voice is chanting her name like a prayer along with cute little cries of "I'm cumming for you, Violet!!" You indeed did cum, your face all flushed and your hips bucking up into hers, making her own cunt clench with need as she hits her own peak. She kisses you to swallow your sweet whines, tongue sliding against yours so you can taste the Vodka on it. She's just rutting into your pussy, and she swears she can feel your walls milking her cock like it's real. The alcohol in her system really does make her delusional.

When she's done, she pulls out of you and throws the strap-on somewhere in the floor, immediately moving down your body to suck the cum out of your tender hole.

You whine and protest, "V-Vi!! Too sensitive!"

She moves her lips to give your clit a firm suck and holds you legs open, "shh, just need to clean you up first.."

Her tongue moves to fuck your pussy as deeply as it can, filling you with the hot, wet muscle, and grazing your overstimulated g-spot until you're begging for mercy and she relented to go swirl around your previously neglected clit.

Her hands are groping your tits, your own tugging at her shitty dye-job as you buck your hips up in the air for more. She doesn't stop, giving you exactly what you want, sucking at your engorged clit and flicking it shamelessly with her tongue.

"Fuckk, V-Vi!! I'm gonna cum again!!"

Your juices paint her face so perfectly, mixing in with her black make-up and making an even bigger mess of your sopping cunt. She pulls back to see your face all red, soft little pants leaving your lips, and your chest heaving like you just ran a marathon. You look perfectly ruined, your hole still wrecked from the cock she fucked you with and your braids messed up into oblivion, but you look satisfied. She really paid you back for that burger, didn't she?

Safe to say, The Sludge Pit is her favorite place to find a meal at.

[eraserbread]

hi, how are you? I hope you take requests rnnn

how about nanami with a pregnant wife who has a bit of a baby brain? and she's feeling so bad about the whole thing bc of hormones + insecurities, so he comforts, reassures an makes it all better

more of my wife guy!nanami ✧

→ f!reader, est relationship, pregnancy, slight angst, mostly fluff

"happy anniversary, baby." you're smiling, leaning over kento's frame at the dinner table. he's resting his chin in his palm. luxe spread of meats and vegetables on his plate. after your terrible first trimester, you can finally cook for him again, though he doesn't expect it.

"what's this?" his light eyes flit to the white gift bag you're setting next to the meal he shrugged off moments ago.

"it's nothing, really." you watch as he opens it, hands crossed behind your back when you walk to your awaiting seat. he pulls out a box, and inside the box is a small, gold heart locket. he shoots you a look.

"dear, this is endearing for sure, but-

"open the locket."

so, he does, and inside is a picture of him a few years younger. on the other side, you two are pressed together. kento's stoic, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you smile for the camera. his eyes soften.

"how thoughtful." you can't read him right now, but there is a smile in his eye only you could recognize. "I don't know exactly how thrilled I am with the idea of wearing a locket, but it is a beautiful ornament."

"mm, don't worry i will be taking and wearing it. you have everything you need, the only gift I can give is... experience, I guess. babies, marriage."

"and that's all i need, hm." he nods for your hand, hanging the locket over your fingers when you give it to him. "but, baby, i'd be much more receiving if it was actually our anniversary."

"w-what do you mean, it's june." you're turning over your shoulder to the calender kept on the refrigerator. it's june... you married him in-

"july. we got married late july."

you falter for a moment, eyes going blank, brows knitting together. kento watches along, familiar with these bouts you work yourself into during pregnancy. it's almost... cute, dare he say. like a confused puppy, though you feel like shit.

"fuck."

"no need to work yourself up; it's okay." ken's rushing in for damage control, knowing the faintest sparks of emotion could do you in for an entire week. he doesn't want to make you feel bad, and he loves the gift. in fact, "the locket is perfect. can't wait to see you wearing nothing but it."

that makes you laugh—almost. it's not enough. you can feel the overwhelmed tears starting to brew in the corners of your eyes. you hide your face in outstretched hands.

and kento is standing up at once, heart beating a little quicker in his chest as he reaches to comfort you. "don't feel bad, you know I never care about transactional things like this."

"that doesn't make it better." at the sound of his sweet, comforting tone, you're crying. finally. he's wrapping big arms around your shoulders, palms flattening over your jutting belly. against his figure, you're swaying like the breeze. he's so warm.

but your mind is on fire, you can't live it down.

"no, i know that because it's just after your birthday... god, what is wrong with me?"

"shh... it's okay. I promise you I do not care. the locket is so beautiful, and I'm so happy you're still thinking about yourself. anniversary or not, it's extremely thoughtful." he kisses the top of your head, sighing into your hair. "hey, I love you. it doesn't matter; nothing matters."

"i know you don't care, but i feel like an idiot." you sniffle, hiccuping softly as he kisses you again... and again. he's so perfect.

"you're so sweet." another kiss to the head, "when you're forgetful. it always gives me reason to help you."

"you're shameless."

"mhm." he laughs. it's light, but it's there—lost in your hair. "shake it off, you'll upset my daughter."

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 13)

Goddammit, you never felt this small before. Sure, all hybrids are twice or thrice your size, but why do you feel this way only now that you were standing in front of Johnny's kneeled down form?

He was kneeling down. Kneeling down. And was still bigger than you standing up.

He was large too. All of them were, really. Men as buff as them naturally had large bodies—it was impossible not to notice that their arms were as thick as your torso.

So....

How exactly were you supposed to fight with him?

It's a play fight, just a play fight, but still, you didn't know what to do. This was insane, how could someone like you fight with a werewolf his size...? And he wanted you to "mess him up"??

You should've suggest playing UNO instead, this is torture.

"Mhm.... I-I... dunno what to do...?" You mumble, uncertain. Your eyes flick to his form—the way excitement buzzes through him, his tail wagging fast behind him, ears pressed flat against his head. His toothy smile never wavering.

Big canines too, bigger than Ghost's.

"It's easy, lassie." He cooed, voice more controlled and calmer than what his body language was showing. "Come on, ya trust papa, right? Papa will never hurt ye."

"I don't know how to fight...." You insist, frowning a little in worry, still shuffling quietly in front of him.

“Don’ have tae. Wha’ does a wee pup ken?” He snickers, rolling his eyes as his accent gets stronger out of nowhere. “Ah just like ma kids messin’ me up! Ye can bite, scratch, or anythin’ else, really. Ah can take anythin’, ye wee runt!”

You hesitate, still looking over his form in worry and confusion. You didn't even move from your position, just holding onto your hoodie as you rubbed your socked feet with each other.

Johnny’s excited, competitive demeanor softened a bit as he sized you up, his tail wagging less and his ears perking up again.

“C’mere, puppy, c’mere… pstpst, it’s alrigh’…” He cooed gently, beckoning you closer with a small hand gesture. “Come tae papa, he’ll teach ye everythin’, aye?”

You blushed in embarrassment at his attitude, letting out a quiet sigh as you approached, still clutching the sleeves of your hoodie.

He immediately flashed you a big, toothy grin—sincere, yet still intimidating. His dangerous demeanor remained as scary as ever. Honestly? He looked kinda insane.

And then—

Big hands grabbed you, making you gasp in surprise as he took you down onto the mat. Technically, he just kinda grabbed you and eased you onto your back, but still—you weren’t expecting it! It was fast.

“Down ye go.” He smiled in a terrifying mix of gentleness and smugness. “Now what, wee bonnie baby?” His tone was pure challenge.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, frozen for a few seconds. His big palm rested gently on your chest, fingers spread just enough to frame your neck as he held both your shoulders down with one hand, caging you in. His feral eyes and sharp grin never wavered as he loomed over you, kneeling like a true predator.

You breathed in shakily at the thought, both small hands coming up to grasp his wrist, trying to gently push his hand away. Your legs curling up close to your chest.

“Don’ let him pin ya down.”

Ghost’s voice immediately caught your attention, making you turn your head on the mat to glance at him sideways on the edge of the mat. He stood with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face, watching closely.

“Aye, runt, why’re ye lettin’ me pin ye down?” Soap teased again, one of his fingers gently rubbing your cheek from where he held you against the mat.

You bit your lip at the provocation, anxiety creeping back in. You pushed with a bit more force, trying to make his hand move, but weakened your grip when he laughed mockingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to yours.

“Look at this… nae claws at all, such cute wee fingers… trimmed nails and all, eh, wee baby? Price was talkin’ ‘bout ye humans… how we’ve gotta keep ye groomed right—short nails on hands an’ feet, brushed wee teeth, and trimmed hair… are all humans frail wee thingies like ye, runt?” He snickered, a broad, teasing smile stretched across his face.

"Big talk for a dirty mutt." Ghost joined in, voice low and raspy as he steaped on the mat, feet covered in black socks.

You immediately tensed up in worry at his tone, eyes widening as your body locked up. It sounded harsh, and for a moment, you genuinely feared they might start arguing right then and there.

But...

Johnny just laughed it off, his smile still wide, his hand still pressing you down against the mat as he kept an eye on Simon entering the mat from his peripheral vision.

“Are ye gonna get in the way, Si?” Soap asked menacingly, tilting his head slightly, baring his teeth at the other man.

“No. I don’t plan on fightin’ ya. I’m here for the kid.” he answered simply, dropping heavily to his knees by your side. "Come on, fledgling. His fingers are wide spread, tuck your hands under them."

You blinked up at him, stunned for a few seconds, before quickly glancing back at Johnny’s hand. Letting go of his wrist, you forced your hands under his fingers, slowly but surely lifting it off your shoulders and chest.

Sure, Johnny wasn’t putting much strength behind it, and he was still cooing at you the whole time, but you managed to take his hand off of you, only for Simon to roughly shove Johnny down onto the mat.

“Hey!” Soap laughed, falling onto his back, his elbows holding his body up.

"Go, up, come on." Simon nudged you, pushing your sitted form in Johnny's direction gently.

You got to your feet, slightly unsteady, feeling the gentle push of his hand that made you tumble on top of Soap, who was just staring at you with a smile.

“Hurt him. Go for his neck.” Ghost instructed, arms crossed as he watched you both.

“Wi’ these wee hands?” Soap cooed mockingly, his hand coming up to gently grab yours and rub with his thumb.

Ghost sighed quietly at your lack of reaction, watching you sit on top of Soap’s waist, your hand held in his, looking uncertain. Truly, zero instincts with this one.

“Gaz was right… it really does feel like when we had only newborns.” Soap laughed quietly, messing slightly with your hand, moving it around. “Ah used tae put them on ma chest for tummy time, too.”

You frowned slightly in confusion at that, head tilting slightly to the side.

"What's that...?"

“Oh, it’s—Ah mean…”

Even though Johnny was still smiling, he frowned a bit too, apparently caught off guard by your question. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. For a moment, it even seemed like pity crossed his face too.

“It’s when ye put babies on a soft surface, belly to the ground, and leave ‘em there. Helps ‘em strengthen their bodies so they can start crawling later on,” Ghost explained calmly, pushing you up slightly higher against Soap. “Now, come on, try to hurt him. He can take it.”

You still hesitated at that, unsure about actually trying to hurt one of your foster parents. Still, you sighed quietly before grabbing the hand that was holding yours and pushing against Johnny's face, hearing him laugh.

"Yeah, that's not going to do much." Ghost commented dryly.

Before you could say anything else, you let out a small, surprised yelp as Soap suddenly switched places with you, grabbing your small body effortlessly and getting on top of you once again, big grin still plastered on his stupid smiling face.

This time, at least, you managed to place your feet against his chest, pushing him slightly away from your body.

"Ya ken, Price's always liked a rough fight," Soap chuckled, a smug smile on his face as his big hand wrapped around your calf. "Me too, o' course, but he's even more violent than me, if ye believe it. Big bastard roughed up everyone as a soldier, an' let all the kids rough him up right back as a parent. He loves it."

"To be fair, most of us do." Ghost nodded from his place on the mat.

"But how does a wee thing like ye plan to do it if ye dinnae even try?"

At that, your leg was quickly pulled back, your body dragged across the mat as you let out a small shriek, only to immediately laugh right after when Soap stopped pulling you by the leg.

Actually, you were so busy giggling in a mix of surprise and excitement that you didn’t notice Johnny and Simon looking at you with surprise and contentment. It took them a bit, but they finally managed to make you actually laugh.

And what a cute laugh you had.

"Guys, come on up, Price still wants to check if her cold's gone away and watch a movie!" Kyle called out from the stairs, smiling gently at the scene.

"Heard that, lass? Hope ye like cartoons, ‘cause we love ‘em!" Johnny smiled excitedly, helping you up onto your little feet.

"I actually developed a liking for them after bein' forced to watch thousands of different ones as our kids grew up," Ghost commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coco's very nice. Would ya like to see it, kid?"

"I'm... not sure...." You mumble, not recognizing the name.

"Yer gonna love it, lassie! Ah guarantee!"

Part 12 /

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍��️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[toxicanonymity]

hii angel!! i hope you’re doing well 💕

would it be okay if you made a drabble about going in for your yearly check up and pervy doctor!joel miller very shamelessly stares at ur cleavage and suggests (more like insists) he performs a breast exam?! hehehe

-🍰 anon

Bad Doctor, 18+

“Hey, not a lot of doctors will tell ya this, but cock is one of the best things you can put in your body.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward like he’d just let you in on a secret.

(dark) Dr. Joel Miller x f!reader | 2.1k Joel Masterlist | About my ask NOTES: ty for the ask, cake! Post-outbreak, doesn't have to worry about losing his license 😼 ✨️ WARNINGS: 18+ dubcon - power imbalance, inappropriate dirty talk touching sucking and arousal, drug use, shotgunning, pet names, praise, titty pronouns, discussion/misuse of women's health concerns for manipulation, medical disinformation, mention of future pregnancy & lactation PLEASE CHECK YOUR BREASTS and support cancer research. Gustave Rossy Cancer Campus Foundation Paris 💗

Part 2 / Part 3

“You practice safe smokin’?” Dr. Miller asked as he was about to light up the joint he rolled from the weed you provided as payment. 

“Safe smoking?” You asked. 

He shifted his weight onto one foot and held up the joint. “Only one way you should be smokin’, darlin’.”

He lit the joint, then walked over to the exam table where you sat with your legs over the edge, fully clothed. When he was almost up against you, he took your jaw in his hand. He brought his face nearly to yours. He let the cooled smoke out of his mouth slowly and you breathed in to accept it. He looked at your mouth with a little smile when he finished, then shamelessly eyed your cleavage. “Alright, let’s finish goin’ through these questions then get you outta here.” 

He put out the joint, then sat back down on his rolling chair. He was manspreading broadly, with his crotch on full display. His scrubs left nothing to the imagination either. They were tight and he clearly had a big package. Big balls, too. His hands dwarfed your medical chart. 

He looked up at you from above his glasses and asked, “Have you been taking a multivitamin?”

“Not as much as I should,” you answered.

“That's okay, baby. Just put it on your counter and take it when ya think about it, okay?” The pet name tickled your cheeks. “Okay, let's see,” he continued. “How ‘bout exercise? You movin’ around?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “I'm pretty good about that.”

“Good girl,” he commended you. “Okay now, women’s health….Hows your period? You regular?” 

“Regular enough.” 

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Remember the last one?”

“Around the first of the month.”

“Good,” he muttered. “Sexual activity?”

“Uh, what about it?” you asked. 

“Well, are ya havin’ enough sex, and how's it feelin’?”

“I guess it’s been a bit of a dry spell,” you said.

“Damn, no stories for me, then?” 

You laughed. 

“That’s a shame. I like hearin’ about that shit. Findin’ out who spits and who swallows. Which guys got a big dick or not.” He chuckled, then saw you didn’t know how to respond and added, “I’m kiddin’, darlin’. But  really... good lookin’ girl like you? A dry spell?” He paused to look you over, before commiserating, “That is a real shame.” 

Your upper body heated.

“Take care of yourself at least? Make yourself cum?”

When you hesitated to respond, he said, “Don't gotta answer that, but it's important, okay? Make sure ya do that.” 

“How often?” you asked. 

“Oh, once or twice a day should do ya… And if you're havin' trouble, sometimes direct contact can be too much. Try somethin’ else. Different angle, different pressure. Every woman's beautiful and different.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling like his words were heartfelt.  

“Bet you're beautiful when ya cum,” he muttered, then held his hand up in mock defense, with a smile. “Sorry, that won't go in your chart. Okay, still in the women's health section here.” He lifted up one page and looked at the next. “You do your monthly breast exam?” 

“Um…. yyyeah, I try, I try to check regularly.” You answered. 

“When's the last time ya did it?”

“Um…”

“Ain’t sure? You oughta be trackin’ that, baby. Tell ya what….” 

He closed the chart and took off his glasses. “Let's take care of that while you're here. How's that?”

“Oh, um, you know, I could just do it when I get home,” you offered, feeling shy. Maybe if he wasn’t so hot, maybe if you weren’t so aware of his big dick in those tight scrubs, then it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. 

“Well, I hate to say it, but I really should take care of this for ya…. Ya know, now that I'm aware, it wouldn't be right for me to send ya home when I coulda done this in five minutes. Alright, shirt off, sweetheart," and cracked a little side smile with a wink.  "Let's see the girls."

Still manspreading on his rolling chair, he watched with his elbow on the counter and a pen in his mouth, looking you up and down as you took off your top.

“Alright,” his deep voice took on a softer, more intimate volume.  

After dimming the lights, he approached slowly. “That's a little better, ain't it?” He asked, looking up at the fluorescent overhead light he had turned off. He laid his massive hands one on each knee and said, “spread’em, sweetheart. I need to get a little closer.” He helped you spread your legs, then reached around you and mumbled, “You know, a bra comin' off is one of the most beautiful sights.” He unhooked it and nudged the straps off your shoulder. 

“There we go. Good girl,” he said, and admired them with an audible, “Mmm.” 

“Well, they look healthy,” he said. “You got a real pretty pair here, baby. You can tell a lot about a woman by the shape of her breasts, by her nipples.”

“Really” you asked? 

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “And by the way they feel, their density. It's all connected. Your whole–all your anatomy, your whole reproductive system, it's all connected….. Just from lookin’ at ya I can tell you’re real fertile.  If you're looking to get knocked up, you’re in luck,” he chuckled.  “And your milk supply will probably come in pretty quick, too.”

As he spoke, he began the breast exam with his fingers on the outside of each breast, cupping each one at the same time. “All right, good,” he said. I'm gonna check each one.” 

For your first breast, he moved so one of his legs was on the outside of yours to get closer to that side.  He caressed your hair and asked, “this okay?” As his other hand lifted your breast. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, heart beating faster. Your chest buzzed with the weed. 

He took in a long breath through his nose as he felt you. "She's got real nice milk ducts." He lifted your breast, pressed it up against your body, kneaded it, and kept glancing at your eyes. You were tingling between the legs already. He wet his lips, then used both hands in more of a clinical approach to feel around your breast, looking for any abnormalities.

“Okay, good,” he said to himself. “Shoulders back for me, sugar.” 

You complied, making your breasts jut out a little more. 

“Good girl,” he said. He caressed your breast from each side, then palmed it.  “Mmm.. Now I'm gonna check your reflexes.” 

He put your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently caressed it with his thumb, then squeezed a little. “Hmm,” he hummed as if unsure.

“What?” you asked. 

Your nipple fully hardened and you got goosebumps. “A little slow, but that's okay,” he said. “Let's come back to that. It’s a real important indicator. Important for all kinds of stuff.” 

When he moved to your other side, his package grazed your knee. Then he pressed his hips forward, and you felt the warm bulge in his scrubs. Your knee jerked away. “Oh, it’s alright. It's okay, baby," He said. "Don’t worry, you ain’t gonna hurt me….unless ya get feisty with me,” he chuckled. “All right, now let's see if she's sleepy like her sister.”

Your nipples were both relatively firm. He flattened his palm against it, let out a nearly silent grunt. His pupils were dilated. He caressed around the curve of your breast, then grabbed a handful, holding the weight in his hand, before dropping it. 

“You got a real nice pair, sweetheart. Real healthy.” As he kneaded your breast, his manhood hardened against your knee. “Shit, I bet you drive the fellas crazy,” he said. “Pretty girl, pair of jugs like this. Mm-mm, mm-mm-mm.” 

“Thanks,” you said. 

“So what's stoppin’ ya?”  he asked. 

“From what?” you replied, already knowing what he meant. 

“Keepin' that kitty nice and stuffed,” he chuckled.. “Hey, not a lot of doctors will tell you this, but cock is one of the best things you can put in your body.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward like he’d just let you in on a secret. He began to massage your breast idly as he spoke. 

“Now, with your legs spread like that, I can tell you're turned on.” 

Your face got hotter than it had ever been. 

“I can smell it,” he explained. 

You moved to close your legs, and he kept them open. 

“No, that's a good thing, sugar. Means everything's workin’. Everything's workin’ fine…. We think… so far.

Alright,” he said as he stimulated your nipple. “Well, she's a little sleepy too. Tell ya what, we'll try a different stimulation.” 

“Okay,” you agreed.

“And a little education never hurt either. You know what your nipples are for, darlin’? Two things. Pleasure and breastfeeding. 

“So it's real important they react to a mouth and tongue.” 

You looked at his mouth, and he wet his lips. “Cause pleasure’s important to help ya cum–and again, that’s real important, baby. And breastfeeding’s real important too, once ya have a baby.” 

You sat silently awaiting his next move. 

“Okay, so I'm just gonna make sure they're as reactive as they need to be…. get up on your knees for me, sweetheart.” 

You complied,  which put your breasts closer to his face. 

“Good girl,” he said. “God damn, you look real good.” He palmed himself over his pants, then let out a low whistle. He lifted your breast and approached it with his face, making contact tongue first, then closing his lips around it.

He closed his lips, swirled his tongue, and sucked gently. You inhaled sharply and he looked up with a mischievous glint in his eye. He suckled at your tit until your nipples were painfully hard, then let go of it and cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, that's better….oh yeah.”  He used his wrist to rub a visible erection through his obscene pants again.  “Now let me get the other one real quick. It's already hard, but i just gotta make sure it's the same.  Down the line, don’t wanna get in a situation where your milk supply is imbalanced– you know, once you have a baby.”  He framed your nipple in the crook of his thumb. “And baby I’d kill to see you pregnant. Damn. You lemme know if you ever need help with that.” 

You were throbbing wildly. He lifted your breast slightly before giving it a gentle kiss, looking up and making eye contact as he did it, then swirling his tongue around your already hard nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue lapped just below your nipple, and he hummed, “Mmmn,” into your breast as he sucked.

After taking it out of his mouth, he said, “Good, real good.” He rested a hand on each of your thighs. “Now, you gotta promise me you're gonna do your breast check every month.”

“That whole thing?” you asked. 

“Well, grab a partner, sweetheart. It can be one of your girlfriends. All else fails, you know where to find me, don’t ya?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. 

“Anything else I can do before ya go?” he asked and ran his hands up your thighs, then squeezed them. .

“I think I’'m okay,” you said. 

“You sure?” he asked and brought one of his hands between your legs. He two knucklesto ghost your cunt through your yoga pants, one on each side of your wet spot. Then he ghosted your clit with his thumb.  “Don't be shy now,” his chest expanded with deeper breaths. 

“I should really get going,” you said. 

“Fair enough.” He put his glasses back on, stepped back, and said, “you can stop spreadin’ your legs now.” He squeezed the thick shape of his cock before telling you, “Make sure you come back in a year, okay?”

 It felt abrupt. 

“Wait,” you said as he turned to leave, with his silhouette sporting a significant bulge.  You asked, “What if I need help or something? Just come back?”

“Yep. Sure thing, sweetheart.” 

He came back to the bedside and cupped your cheek. “You're a beautiful girl, real healthy. Just make sure ya do what I said, okay? Take care of that sweet little pussy for me.”

“Okay, Dr. Miller.” 

“Alright, take care now.”

Thank you for reading! 💕

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Duke comes home one day from school looking down in the dumps and a bunch of paper work.

"Hey Duke, what's all that paper work for?" Dick asks from the couch as Duke sets the foot tall pile of papers on the coffee table.

"Oh you know, just, bullies making me do their work." The whole room freezes.

Bullies?

"Duke, you're being bullied?" Duke seems to realize his mistake of words. Instead of the excuse he made up to tell them about how he missed a lot of work because of Signal work, he said the truth which was the fact that he had bullies.

"Erm-"

"Duke, why didn't you tell us?" Dick nearly whines out, hurt his foster-brother didn't tell him about having bullies.

"No- guys, it's okay. Seriously. You don't have to do anything about it. Seriously." He eyes Bruce from where the man was about to type in *probably* the school's number to complain.

"Why not? We can deal with those punks for you. Are they being racist or some'n?" Jason crosses his arms, standing in front of Duke with a raised brow.

"A little. But seriously, it's nothing I can't handle."

Bruce rubs his temple.

"Are you sure? Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Yes."

"Thomas, just know, we can step in whenever." Duke turns a smile towards Damian, and places his hand on Cass's when she hugs him from behind.

"Hey- it's the weekend. Let me handle those papers since I've got nothing to do and I'm ban from case work." Tim says, holding his hand out.

"Uh- okay?" Duke hands him the stack, thinking nothing of it, because it's Tim.

Tim takes a look through the papers, scrunching his face a bit before shrugging, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Uh- should I be worried?" Tim looks at him and waves him off. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it. I got this handled."

Uh. Okay?

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

The following Monday, Duke shows up and puts his stuff in his locker.

Or at least he was until it was slammed shut.

"Hey Thomas. Got our work?" Turning around, Duke faced his three bullies; seniors Clint Rodriguez (the "big dog" as he called himself) and his lackies, Arion Centry and Pete Swinez.

"N-No.."

"No? Where is it, bitch? I told you to have it done by Monday." Rodriguez held him up to the locker. "Oh you mean these papers?"

Turning around, there stood Timothy Drake-Wayne; two three time nepo-baby and the biggest reputation in the school. The real life Regina George and Heather Chandler. He was with his two best friends, also big popular kids and his two Gretchen Wieners, Karen Smith, and Heathers.

"Drake." The mere face of him made the trio seethe. "Hah! You should see your face right now. Anyways, I did your college essays for you, hope you enjoy them. Would be a shame if you had to repurchase the papers for them."

Tim tosses them in the air, and everyone watches as they all fall to the ground.

"What the hell did you do."

"Oh, ya know, the basics of what you should put. Also, this your girl?" A girl, a cheerleader, goes and slides herself under Tim's arm.

"Babe!?"

"Sorry, Clint, but I have a reputation, people can't know we dated. Also, Tim's better looking and a better kisser." Morgan Letto, another popular nepo-baby in Gotham High, turns and kisses Tim right in the hallway, before stalking off.

Tim's trio laughs at their faces.

"Hey! You should probably pick these up, ya know, since they have your names on them. Wouldn't want to get sent to the principles for littering the school. Bad reputation means you can't go to Princeton." Bernard says.

"Or Oxford, or Harvard. See ya losers!" Ives laughs along with Bernard and Tim as they walk through the halls.

As if a bomb dropped, the three seniors scramble to pick up hundreds of papers worth of applications.

" "I'm racist towards black people because they're below white people like me" " Someone reads off of one paper down the hall.

" "I use grades that aren't mine that I bully people into doing for me." " Another person reads nearby.

"Give me those!"

Duke is left standing there, struck by the scene that just unfolded before his eyes.

He didn't know what to say, do, or act.

Should he laugh? Play it off? Call Bruce? Or Tim? Or anyone? Get picked up?

It's fine. It's just one day. Right?

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

Lunch time rolls around.

Duke is sitting at his table with his friends eating. They were prime targets for Clint and his group.

As if on cue, the three stride up.

"Hey Thomas, got Tim Drake to do your work for you, huh? Well guess what?"

He was spun around and picked up by the collar, his two friends being held back by Arion and Pete.

"You ain't getting away with it here." Clint grits out. Of course he chose the cafeteria, the pretty much only place teachers don't monitor 24/7 and is void of any supervision, even with every grade in there for lunch.

Clint set Duke down and lined his fist up ready to punch him. Duke flinched as the fist came swinging.

"Hey loser!"

Cheers and shocked 'Oooh!'s were heard from around. He squinted one eye open and saw food fall from Clint's red face and a tray in Tim's right hand.

"Woops! Sorry! Guess my hand slipped!" That got a laugh from the crowd. Tim set the tray down and pat Duke's should before stalking towards Clint.

Duke saw behind them at the far wall where everyone could see Ives and Bernard setting three trays of food down (The senior trio's trays).

"You'll pay for that, Drake!" Clint took a swing, which Tim dodged easily and side sweeped him onto his knees.

Ives and Bernard did the same to Arion and Pete.

The three took the seniors by the hair and dragged them to the trays the two laid out previously.

Cameras went up and Duke watched in muted awe and terror at what Tim was doing. Was Tim really like this when he still went to high school? He was a junior now and he dropped out sophomore year? Was he like this as a freshman?

The three pushed the seniors faces into the trays.

"Since you're the big dog maybe you should eat like a real dog then, bitch. Here's some kibble. Dogs enjoy this one!" Tim poured dog kibble onto Clint's tray, seeing as his face turns redder and shows more humiliation than he's ever seen on anyone.

"Eat it, bitch! Like the dog you are! Or start barking and begging for forgiveness!" Tim says it through his teeth in such a grueling tone it sends shivers down Duke's spine.

"Hey Arion! If you actually did your work, you'd know that your name is a horse in Greek Myth. So maybe you should neigh like one too! Neigh, neigh. Get to eating horsey! You should start prancing for the rodeo. Giddey'yup!" Ives mocks him pushing his head into the tray over and over.

"Swinez? More like Swine-ez! Oink-oink! You stink like a pig. And you're eating like one too! Ewwww! Disgusting. Hahahahhaha!" Bernard's name change made the whole cafeteria roar in laughter.

What made the laughter stronger was when the three brought out collars with leashes and attached them to it.

"Come boys! Start walking like the animals you are!" Tim called, pulling on Clint's leash, dragging him mostly until Clint got up and started crawling in front of him.

Everytime they tried to get up, the three juniors were behind them to push them down to the ground again.

Almost everyone was recording.

"Look everyone! Look at our new pets!" Ives called out.

"If you know any better, you three better keep your collars on. You should better than to make your owners mad!" Bernard barked out a laugh.

"I think, you guys should start speaking in woofs, neighs, and oinks from now on. Especially, when we make you ask forgiveness to those you bullied." Tim said, grabbing the collar and forcing Clint to look at Duke.

The bell rang, lucky for those three.

"Woops! Looks like the fun's over! You better clean up for mess! Wouldn't want to make the janitors work more." Tim walked off. "Or look like complete idiots with all that gunk on your face." Bernard said as he and Ives followed Tim.

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

Later, when Duke got home, he was silent. Bruce was silent too, despite him being the one Duke expected to ask about the bullies since he slipped up and told them.

"Hey Duke, how was school? Did they mess with you again?" Dick asked.

He looked at him, then at the rest of his siblings, noting Tim wasn't there, swallowed and shook his head.

"N-Not really."

"Not really?" Jason looked confused, as did the rest of them.

Before Duke could explain more, Tim came in laughing, tossing his bag on a couch before hopping on Bruce's arm rest.

"Bruce! You won't believe what I did today." Bruce looked at him and smirked. Smirked.

Tim relayed the entire story of what he, Bernard, and Ives did to Clint, Arion, and Pete. Bruce looked proud and the rest looked shocked.

"My reputation still stands even after I've been gone a year!" Tim seemed very proud of that.

"Atta boy!" Bruce ruffled his hair. "Yes, here's the tray of cookies you were promised all to yourself, master Tim." Alfred handed him a whole plate of cookies. "Thank you!"

"What!?"

"Hold on! He gets a whole plate of cookies for that? Why isn't he in trouble!? When did you enroll back?" Jason was beyond furious.

"Tim had a reputation in school for being like that towards bullies. Which is why no one bullied anyone with him around. Guess they all came back when he was gone. Duke didn't want us doing anything, and he didn't expect Tim to do anything because you all think he's a goody two shoes, so I sent my calvary in." Bruce explained.

Tim laughed at their faces.

"Oh please! I'm just getting started with them! Just wait till the end of the week. Then! I'll be done with them and they won't ever come back to the school."

[captain-huggy-bear]

Morning Sickness

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex in the past, pregnancy, etc.

Summary: Quinn is getting increasingly worried about you as you're sick every morning and every evening, you're adamant that you're fine. Turns out you're right in a way.

Notes: Thanks to the person who sent this idea in :)

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It starts around a month after your honeymoon. Every single morning Quinn wakes to the sound of you throwing up and every single night he holds your hair back as you're sick over the toilet.

You pass it off as a bad stomach bug or anxiety, something different every time but Quinn doesn't believe you nor does he like what's happening. He's had many health scares with you; the chest infection that led to you being hospitalised after you nearly passed out at work being a prime example. As a result, he knows better than to assume that when you say you're fine, you're actually fine. Instead he sits with a heavy buzz of anxiety in his chest, a fear that something is seriously wrong but not knowing what and not knowing how best to convince you to get a check up and see the doctor about it. You’re stubborn to a fault. 

It's another one of those evenings where he's happily curled around in bed, blankets tucked in around both of you. You're in his arms, back to his chest, legs twisted together so that any movement jars the other, but you're so used to it at this point that sleeping apart is more difficult and less restful than navigating the tangled mass of limbs that the two of you become each night.

When you try to slip out of his arms he's awake like a shot, blinking through bleary eyes while you push his arms off you so that you can get up. Quinn lets you go, an instant release but he's quick to follow, footsteps padding on the carpet after you towards the bright light of the bathroom. Never once considering rolling over and going back to sleep.

"You okay, baby?" You're leaning over the sink, taking deep breaths, cheeks puffing out as you try your very best to not be sick again, nausea roiling through you. You’re so fed up of being sick, it’s become a routine that’s led to you being careful about what foods you eat in the morning and evening, learning what is the worst to throw up and what’s the least offensive thing to throw up.

All you can do is shake your head frantically before you're rushing to the toilet, knees hitting the floor with a loud thud as you lean over the toilet bowl to be sick. Quinn winces at the sound of your knees impacting tile and he's beside you in an instant, hands reaching for your hair to pull it back and out of your face so you don't have to worry about throwing up in your own hair.

"Oh, baby...just let it out..." A warm, free hand landing on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he feels the way your body jerks with each bout of sickness, your muscles contracting and relaxing each time. 

You’re crying, he can hear it, the way you whimper and whine because this is the worst and you’re fed up with being so violently sick…It only increases his worry because this has been going on for too long and it just doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

He stays beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back until you’re no longer vomiting. When you stop, cheek resting against the toilet seat in exhaustion he’s up and reaching for a glass to fill with water for you.

“Here, baby, have some water…” You take a mouthful only to spit it out in the toilet in an attempt to get the taste of vomit from your mouth, before downing the whole glass. It doesn’t really help much.

“I hate this…” You groan out, feeling silly because it’s not even like you feel ill most of the time, you just keep getting these random bouts of sickness in the mornings and evenings. Quinn shouldn’t be as worried as you know he is…it’s probably all in your head, maybe you’ve created a Pavolvian response to the morning and night time where your body expects to be sick, so you are?

“I know, baby…” Quinn runs a hand over your hair, pushing a few strands out of your face and behind your ear, he’s gentle about it, long fingers gingerly caressing your skin like he’s worried you’ll break, “You need to visit a doctor, baby.”

“It’s probably nothing, Quinn…I’ve just eaten something or have some sort of bug or something…” You don’t want to go to the doctors, you’re certain this will blow over soon, that it’s nothing serious and you hate the idea of taking more time off for it even as your husband looks at you like you might be the most stubborn human being on earth. 

“For weeks?”

“Quinn…” You sigh out his name because you don’t want to argue, because you’re tired. All you want is to go back to bed, curl up in his arms and get what little sleep you can before you have to go to work in the morning.

He must see how tired you are because whatever fight he had seems to leave his body, shoulders slumping, head nodding to himself like he’s made a decision in his mind to put this down for the moment even if he wants to keep going, repeat himself until you give in.

“Okay…okay, let’s get you to bed at least…” He gives up arguing because you’re so tired and have to be up at 6am for work. It’s bad enough you're not feeling well, let alone that you have to still teach like this, adding exhaustion to the mix is just a bad idea. He’ll keep pushing until you go to the doctors, but right now? Right now he can see you're tired and sleep is probably better for you than arguing at 1am. 

Quinn helps you to your feet, your hands resting in his much larger ones while he pulls you up. He keeps both hands on your hips the whole time as the two of you waddle your way back to bed, there’s part of him that worries you might fall or faint on the way back to bed, hands firmly gripping you just in case. 

He curls around you once you're both back under the covers, almost protective like he’s trying to shield you from some unseen threat and you nestle back into him, resting your head on the arm underneath you. 

The early morning throw up session had you completely wiped hours later, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that you felt dizzy as the day went on. Even more so because food was just not enticing you and you had skipped lunch when your sandwich made you feel queasy just looking at it. Each lesson felt harder and harder to teach and your last lesson of the day had your head reeling. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise with how dizzy you felt, how lightheaded you were, that you fainted completely in front of your students. Thankfully, you had felt it coming on, having lowered yourself to the ground mere seconds before it happened.

To give them their dues, your students who could have used that as an opportunity to cause a mess, do whatever they wanted and generally cause chaos, actually tried to help. They were so concerned for you that they got another member of staff to come help, David, your favourite trouble making hockey fan, put his rolled up Canucks hoodie underneath your head and Stacy checked you were still breathing. The fainting spell didn’t last long, within a minute or so you were back to consciousness and trying to sit up, staff and students trying to force you to lay back down. 

It’s Laura, the English teacher next door, who grabs your phone and calls your emergency contact, Quinn…even as you protest and tell her not to bother him, that you’re fine. All your protests go ignored by the forty year old, who had become something of a mentor and parental figure during your time at the school.

“Hi Quinn, sorry, it’s Laura from Y/N’s school?” You can’t quite tell what Quinn says on the other line, but you’re sure it’s along the lines of ‘what’s wrong?’ in a panicked tone because no one ever used your phone. You hate worrying him, he has so much on his shoulders already, so much weight there from the team, the season, his brothers…

“She’s fainted, do you think you could come get her? It’s the end of the school day anyway but I don’t think she should be driving home…thanks, Quinn.” 

You groan at her, tempted to tell her off for calling him against your wishes but you know she means well…you also know there’s absolutely no chance you’re getting away with avoiding the doctors now. In fact you wouldn’t be surprised if he drove you straight to the doctor's office after coming to get you…still, maybe you should see a doctor, what with throwing up all the time…and now fainting? 

Laura won’t even let you get up from your spot on the floor, packing your things away for you, getting your students to chill for the last 10 minutes of the day and waiting until Quinn arrives. You know she’s worried you’ll faint again, but it feels ridiculous, sitting on a cold, dirty classroom floor waiting for your husband to come get you.

“Hey, baby…” The way he stands in the doorway to your classroom when he finally arrives makes you want to cry. It’s like he’s scared you’re going to faint again, a sense of hesitancy and caution in his body language that you hate because Quinn is never like that around you. 

“Please don’t…don’t be scared of me, right now…” You feel like crying, wetness starting to fill your eyes and your voice coming out choked. You’re not even sure why you’re so emotional about him looking like that when Quinn’s always worried about you, it’s not a new development. He cares so he worries. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not scared of you…I’m worried, baby.” He’s crossing the space between you as quickly as possible, crouching down next to you with care, hands reaching for your face gently to rub his fingers across your cheeks to try and calm you down.

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to be a bother…” Your eyes are so watery that Quinn’s face is a blurry mess, but even then you wouldn’t be able to mistake the serious set of his brow, the way his jaw clenches, how he always takes your concerns and worries seriously.

“Sweet girl, hey…you’re not a bother. You’re never a chore, okay? But I'm going to need you to accept that we need to go to the doctor's now, okay? I’ve already phoned them, they can see us in forty minutes.” You can’t really deny him, he’s been so patient with you, worried, but not pushing you to go to the doctors too much and you know he’s right…something’s not normal right now and you need to get checked out.

“Okay…” The smile he gives you is radiant, relief filled and bright like your answer is enough to make his day. It makes it worth it.

“Atta girl, right, let’s get you up off this floor, okay?” 

You nod at him, reaching for his outstretched hands and letting him grip yours tightly, your wedding rings gleaming and new under the fluorescence of the classroom lights. As Quinn stands he pulls you with him, helping you to your feet and holding you steady when you get a bit of a headrush from the sudden upright position.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, i’m good,” He doesn’t quite look like he believes you, “I promise, i’ll let you know if i’m not.”

He’s got an eye on you the entire way to his car, always watching in case you suddenly faint or trip or take a dive to the ground. You don’t, your dizzy spell has passed and now you just feel emotional and embarrassed about the whole thing. 

As is routine by now Quinn opens the car door for you and buckles your seatbelt, making sure it rests comfortably against you and isn’t digging into you at all. He goes a step further than normal though, reaching into the backseat to grab a blanket he keeps there for when you get cold, laying it over your lap and tucking it under your thighs like he’s worried you’ll get cold on the drive to the doctors. 

Quinn leans forward into the car, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently causing you to close your eyes, letting out a happy sigh. He lingers slightly, hand smoothing down some of your fly away hairs before he shuts the passenger side door and gets into the driver's seat. 

There’s a heavy silence that settles over the two of you while Quinn starts the drive to the doctor’s office. It’s a silence that screams that Quinn has things he wants to say, words he’s holding inside him right now and you wait patiently for him to break. 

It doesn’t take long, a few minutes pass before he’s watching you from the corner of his eye, “You need to start trusting me to handle knowing when something is wrong…” He sighs out at you, and you try not to cut him off, biting on your lip to force yourself to listen until he’s said what he needs to say. “I know you’re scared of being a burden and putting more stress on me, but, baby…I’m your husband. I need to know. I want to know. My job is to support you. I can’t do that if you’re not letting me in…” He reaches a hand across to squeeze your leg, an attempt to reassure you that he’s not mad, but that he wants you to trust him more and you get it…you do. You’ve been so reluctant to put any more stress on him, but here’s Quinn demanding that you do, telling you he wants to know when things aren’t quite right.

“I just…you have all this pressure on you and I don’t want to add to that.”

“Baby, the only stress you’re giving me is when you don’t let me help you…I need you to promise me you’re going to start relying on me more, please?” He can’t take it anymore. The way you try to hide how you’re doing, try to take all that onto yourself so that he doesn't get any of the pressure. You’re the only pressure he wants, fuck hockey, fuck the season, but he needs to know what’s wrong with you so he can fix it, so he can help you.

You reach for his hand on your leg, twisting your fingers in his and holding his hand tight, watching him glance at you out of the corner of his eye, focusing on the road for the most part. 

“I promise.” 

Quinn’s shoulders drop in relief, his need to support and protect you, to look after you already feeling better now that you’ve promised you’ll actually communicate with him properly. He loves you, but your fear of being a burden is his least favourite thing about you. He hates that people have made you feel like you have to minimise yourself, your problems. Hates that you’ve been trained to be so hyper independent and self reliant. 

“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

You blink at the doctor like she’s insane because the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind that that was a possibility, that maybe you were pregnant.

“Uh, no…”

“Have you been using protection? Is it possible you’re pregnant?” You try to think back to your last period, late, try to think back to the last time Quinn and yourself had unprotected sex…your honeymoon. So over the moon, so giddy the two of you hadn’t really thought about it, forgoing the usual precautions because you were married now so it didn’t seem like such a big deal. 

You look at Quinn, the two of you sharing a look that says you’re both thinking back to your honeymoon, the two weeks of being absolutely feral for each other that you really didn’t think much about the consequences…well, you did, in a sense. Quinn had had a great time considering what you’d look like pregnant with his child, dirty talk filled with comments about getting you pregnant, but it had all been fantasies, silly in the moment dirty talk, neither of you had really considered (rather stupidly perhaps) that it might become a reality. You hadn’t thought…normally it wasn’t that easy for people and you’d always had concerns about fertility in your family in the past so why would it be that easy for you? 

“It’s…it’s possible.”

“Okay, I want you to go take this test and come back when you’re done. I think you might just be experiencing some really bad first trimester morning sickness.” You take the test offered to you, the little pee cup and pipette too, glad that she wasn’t expecting you to pee directly onto the stick…

“Do you want me to wait outside the door?” Quinn asks as you hesitantly get up, not really wanting to go alone, as silly as it was because all you were about to do was pee into a little cup and put some drops onto a pregnancy test, it wasn’t like you were going to do anything crazy. But, you’d never had to take a pregnancy test before, you’d never had to deal with the reality that you might be pregnant and even if it's with your literal husband it’s still kind of scary...

“Yes, please…” He’s reaching for your hand without any hesitation, guiding you out of the examination room and towards the toilets. 

You hesitate before entering, scared to find out the answer, unsure which you want to be true; that you’re pregnant or that there’s something else causing you to be sick and faint. You want kids, both of you have discussed it time and time again, but you always thought it would be planned, that the two of you would be actively trying when you got pregnant. 

“It’ll be okay, y’know? No matter what. If you’re not pregnant we’ll figure out what’s wrong and if you are? That’s a good thing, we wanted kids, baby.” Quinn can see you’re scared, the way you grip the test tighter, how you seem to stop breathing as you stare at the bathroom door. He’s trying to not get his hopes up, to temper some of the excitement he can feel because he really…fuck, he really hopes you’re pregnant, he’s so ready to be a dad, and it would be an added bonus to know you weren’t seriously ill, just dealing with the first trimester. 

“Yeah, just…wasn’t expecting it to potentially be this soon.”

“I know, baby, but it’ll be okay and mom’ll be over the moon.” You smile at the mention of Ellen, how excited she’ll be…heck Jack and Luke would be ecstatic to be uncles, suddenly things didn’t seem quite so scary when you considered the people around you, how supportive they would be.

“Yeah, she’ll probably scream down the phone…” If you’re pregnant goes unsaid but it’s there, the reality that maybe you’re both starting to get your hopes up for something that isn’t going to happen. 

“Okay…I can do this.”

“You’ve got this, baby…it’ll be okay,” He smiles at you one last time before you disappear into the bathroom.

Your hands shake the entire time you’re in there, completing the test and putting it on the side to wait. You pacing a hole into the floor, back and forth, back and forth as the time ticks down on your phone. In that time you start to get excited, nervous, but excited. The initial shock of potentially being pregnant disappearing in favour of thoughts about what it would be like to finally have your first child with Quinn…how he’d teach them to skate, how Luke and Jack would play with them at the lake house in the summer, how Ellen and Jim would be devoted grandparents, how you’d read them books every night and make your own Christmas traditions… Your nerves now centred on that possibility that you weren’t pregnant, that your hopes might be crushed.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look when the time was up, reaching for the door handle to Quinn pacing outside the door. His head shoots up the moment you open it.

“So?” Quinn looks so expectant, lips bitten and red from all his worrying, waiting for an answer. 

“I…I can’t look, can you check it for me?”

“Uh, yeah, course, baby.” You can tell he’s nervous too, but he steps inside the bathroom, locking it behind the two of you for privacy. You point to where the little, but no less life altering, test rests by the sink. 

You watch him walk over, watch the tension in his shoulders, how he looks at the little test, seems to read the marks, and then again, and again like he’s struggling to process it. You know the answer the moment his shoulders relax, the moment he turns to you with tears in his eyes and a wide smile, so wide across his face. He’s practically grinning, vibrant in the way he is after a won game or how he was at your wedding. The sort of vibrant that changes Quinn, his usually understated calmness wiped out in favour of pure unfiltered joy. 

“We’re…we’re having a baby…” Saying it feels unreal at first, that those two little lines can mean so much, that right now, in your tummy is your baby. The perfect mix of the two of you slowly growing into someone amazing, someone he’s so excited to meet. 

“Yeah?” You can feel your own excitement starting, hearing it is making it real, so fucking real. 

“Yeah, baby!” You’re crying, he’s crying, it’s a mess when you come together in a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you and lifting you off the floor to spin you around. You’re both crying into each other when his mouth slants over yours for a kiss, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, the other resting gently over your throat.

It’s a kiss that feels monumental, deep and filled with love, so much love that the taste of the salt from your tears does nothing to deter either of you as you cling to each other. The scratch of Quinn’s beard, the silky smoothness of his hair in your fingers, the way you cling to each other, you’ve not felt that happy since your wedding day, since you both finally said I do. It feels like the world has shifted on its axis in the most spectacular of ways and all that worry, all that fear is gone, just like that. 

He’s so fucking relieved, that’s part of it. God, is he excited that you’re pregnant, that he’s going to be a dad, but part of the excitement is relief, that you’re okay, that you’re not seriously ill. You’re just pregnant, just dealing with morning sickness and all the changes associated with growing a baby. 

When you pull apart neither of you go very far, foreheads pressed together, noses nuzzling against each other. His hands still cradle you close to him, his breath warm against your lips.

“We’re going to be parents…you’re going to be a mom…” There’s something about him saying it that makes it feel more real because it feels almost out of body of an experience, to find out you're pregnant when you had no plans to be. 

“Yeah…you’re going to be a dad…”

“Fuck, I love you…” Quinn kisses you again, soft but lingering as a hand comes down to rest against your belly, no sign yet of the bundle of cells that’s growing into a baby, “and I love this little bean too,”

“I love you too, you’re going to be so great, they’re going to love you.”

“They’re going to love us.”