#but she just hugs him and for the first time HE HUGS HER BACK and they're both crying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trainer-from-unova · 2 days ago

Text

sweet dreams

english ao3 Ⓢ spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ 𝄞

ship: robert reynolds x afab!reader

summary: where you're in love with the man of your dreams, literally

au: more based on the comics than in the mcu and he's more powerful and aware of what he can do with his powers

c/w: constructed reality, amnesia, secret past, lies, implied stalking, lies, crying, light angst, domestic fluff, emotional hurt and not much comfort tbh, implied unsafe sex, not very graphic smut but a simultaneous orgasm, bittersweet open ending

a/n: even if you read it here please leave kudos on ao3! and english isn't my first language so sorry if something's weird expressed

word count: 1467

According to her diary she had known him for a little over a year, although it had been longer since she started dreaming about him — but in reality she had known him for much longer, she just couldn't remember him.

She didn't know how or why since she couldn't remember "designing" him in her imagination, nor was he apparently based on anyone real and she usually had enough to do with the fantasies she imagined before bed about her favourite fictional characters or famous people, but apparently her mind had designed another life and a fictional boyfriend that she dreamt about every night when she fell unconscious. His name was Bob, and they did all the things couples do: go on dates, tell each other they love each other, hug, kiss... Etc. He was the perfect boyfriend in every way — he was her type in every way and he was everything a girl would want in a boyfriend.

Little by little she became obsessed with him, and although she saw him every night, she wanted to compile all their encounters because when she woke up she sometimes forgot many things, so she began to write and draw in notebooks everything she experienced with him so as not to forget anything and to feel him closer, more real. Maybe he wasn't real, but unfortunately her love for him was.

Even when she was awake she dreamt about him, and how could she not? She knew that her obsession with Bob had gotten out of control and that it wasn't normal to dream about him all the time, but according to her it was a defence mechanism her brain had created. She knew it wasn't normal, but was she hurting someone, or herself? She thought about going to therapy, but she didn't have enough money to go and talk about her dreams — it wasn't a real problem. She told herself that her love for Bob wouldn't slow down her love life in real life, but unfortunately her love life was as non-existent as this one apparently was — she couldn't find anyone she really connected with, and she'd rather be alone than in bad company.

She knew the dreams were strange, that nothing there made sense and that it was better not to try to make sense of them unless you wanted to end up with a headache from the confusion, but it was strange to her that she always dreamt in first person, when normally, before him, she used to dream in third person. They also tended to have continuity and she no longer dreamt strange things, like flying a plane and in the next "scene" being on the beach having a few beers with Queen Victoria. And sometimes she was aware that she was dreaming.

But at the same time she was fascinated by how real it all felt at times, so real that it was even scary. At that precise moment she couldn't see him as they were in the dark, but she could perfectly feel every millimetre of his body against hers — his hot and naked chest against hers in the same state, her legs hugging his back, her arms hugging his head, her hands clutching his long hair, his breathing hitching and moaning in her right ear with every thrust... She could even feel him cumming inside her and pulling out his member.

"See you tonight, my love," he whispered sweetly in her ear before kissing her cheek with the gentleness he hadn't had while fucking her, but her mind was so clouded by the orgasm she'd just had that she almost didn't hear him. The only thing working properly for her at the moment was her sense of touch, and she felt him pull away from her as she felt his cum drain from inside her.

"Bob?" she asked when she caught her breath, or rather, when she woke up. There was no answer and she didn't feel him next to her either, plus she was wearing panties and a baggy shirt again and didn't remember getting dressed.

She only saw two small white dots in front of her, assuming it was sunlight coming through the tight slits in the blind. She reached out to turn on the lamp on the bedside table next to the bed. When the small warm light illuminated the place she saw that she was in the room at home and not in the room in the house she shared with him in her dreams, which she knew as well as the real one. She felt a tickling liquid coming out between her vaginal lips, and for a second she thought, or rather, hoped it was his semen as crazy as it was and even though she didn't want to get pregnant, but for better or worse it was just a lot of discharge from the erotic dream she had had. She was so busy trying to process everything that she didn't even notice that those little white dots had disappeared with the light.

Then she reached under the pillow, reaching for her mobile phone with her sense of touch. When she picked it up, she pulled it out and looked at the time on the lockscreen. It was early in the morning and she was working the afternoon shift that day, so she decided to lie in bed doing nothing but daydreaming, wasting time and waiting for him to fall asleep again even for a little while so she could see him again, but no luck.

He was sitting cross-legged on their bed, and on his crotch was her. He had his hands on her waist and she had her hands on his shoulders as they talked about whatever, though she was paying more attention to his face, scanning and analysing every detail as she took her hands off his shoulders and brought them to his bangs, brushing them out of his face in an attempt to tuck them behind his ears.

"I'm not so handsome that you can't stop staring at me," he joked, tilting his head to the side to see if her eyes followed him.

"You're such a dummy, you are so handsome!" she replied, pretending to be offended as she gave him a little tap on the shoulder with her dominant hand, and they both laughed. "But that's not all..." she said more calmly, "I have this feeling..." she said as she looked at various parts of his face and put her dominant hand on one of his cheeks, "that I know you in real life," she said finally looking into his eyes as he moved his head towards her hand, to feel her touch even closer.

"Maybe you did," he said with a melancholy smile and tone — he always got like that when she was aware that what she was living was a dream, "in another life."

It sounded beautiful, and maybe there were possibilities (considering the strange world she lived in, where aliens and magic existed), but she was a reasonable girl and thought it was more likely that he simply had the face of someone she saw at the train station where she worked. She saw thousands of faces a day, his face was probably of some guy who made a dent in her subconscious (and with how handsome Bob was, she wouldn't be surprised).

"And what kind of life was that? Um?" she asked curiously. She didn't believe that possibility, but she wanted to imagine this supposed past life.

"Maybe..." he said looking behind her shoulder. "I was a superhero and I had to make everyone forget about me with my superpowers," he said forcing a comical tone but still unable to look her straight in the eye, not wanting her to realise that what he was saying was the truth.

"Why?" she asked, wanting more information. The story sounded interesting.

"For safety, of everyone" and she assumed he meant it for his civilian identity, so that she and other loved ones wouldn't be attacked by villains.

"Well, that's sad," she said grimacing.

"Yeah," he said grimacing as her. He then hugged her, needing the comfort and protection of being so close to her and wanting to hide the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. Evidently she returned the gesture, hugging his head in silence until she sighed deeply.

"...I'd love it if you were real," she said sorrowfully.

"...If it's any consolation..." he said looking at her again, "You're very real to me, you're everything to me."

"Yeah, but... I want to be with you always," she said, as much moved as frustrated.

"I'm always with you, I'm closer than you can imagine. Trust me, I'm your guardian angel."

And this time he wasn't lying.

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cheftsunoda · 2 days ago

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secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

part three

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

hamilton reader x max verstappen

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

part one here:)

part two here:)

fc : tyla

warning : j*s verstappen mentioned.

a/n : hello loves! i stayed up a majority of the night to get this written for you bc i will be busy this weekend as i am attending the miami gp! i have part 4 already saved in my drafts as well and will have that posted whenever i can! thanks love bugs 🐞

hope you like <3

(side note : congratulations to max on becoming a girl dad!! so excited for him and kelly)

—

ayanaaa

netherlands 📍

liked by sza, kikagomes, lando & 7,254,478 others.

ayanaaa : ik wil nooit meer weg 🇳🇱❤️

translation : i never want to leave

sza : pls come back to me i miss you and your beautiful creative energy 💌💋

liked by author

ayanaaa : you need to come here and we can just hide away for years

sza : deal

username : ladies can we have the album and the tour first please?

liked by author and sza

sza : oh yeah I guess so

lando : speaking dutch, are we? aren’t you from stevenage?

ayanaaa: yes lando i am

lando : interesting…just vacationing? learned some lingo along the way?

ayanaaa : i will not be taking any further questions from the press at this time

liked by lando

username : what does lando know that we don’t

ayanaaa : not much, he is very uneducated

lando : lewis tell your sister to stop bullying

lewishamilton : she isn’t wrong mate

lando : smh

kikagomes : prettiest girl on the planet

liked by author

ayanaaa: that’s all you my love

username : hmmm there is a man…in the netherlands…who do we know?

username2 : stop reaching they don’t even follow each other

username5 : she said a while ago that her man is not famous

username : guys let me be delusional stop dragging me

username3 : I fully ship them so hard and will feed into all delusions

username10 : wasn’t k**ly just seen at a race with max?

username12 : she was invited by another brand and max barely acknowledged her

lewishamilton : Love and hugs from Roscoe and I! We miss you❤️

liked by author

ayanaaa : love and miss you both! see you soon

danielricciardo : where was my invite?😔

liked by author

ayanaaa : lost in the post maybe danny 😣

liked by danielricciardo

—

I didn’t expect the countryside to feel this much like breathing.

The drive out of Amsterdam had been quiet — Max’s hand on the gear shift, his other laced with mine. It wasn’t our first time here, but it was the first time I wasn’t pretending to be just a friend, just a guest, just a visitor. This time, I wasn’t here for a show or a weekend stopover. I was here as his wife — quietly, secretly, entirely.

And Max’s world was much quieter than mine.

Birdsong, not bass. Windmills instead of spotlights. Wildflowers growing along the roads that curved like something out of a painting.

When we pulled up to his mother’s house, I felt that flutter of nerves I only ever got before performing — that rush of adrenaline and ache, wondering if I’d be understood.

But Sophie greeted me with a warm hug and a “You’re finally back,” like I was returning home, not arriving for the first time as family.

I never had any interest in meeting Max’s father. He had threatened to expose our relationship to the media because he genuinely disapproved of us. He was unaware that we were married at the time. Max had made the decision to keep him as far away from me as possible. His mother on the other hand had been a godsend, she is quite literally sweet as pie. I could not have asked for a better mother in law.

I followed Max to the back bedroom as he lugged our suitcases down the hallway. I admired all the artwork and family moments his mom had hung on the wall, smiling when greeted by baby max’s face. Max swung the door open and set our luggage to the side. He reached for my hand and dramatically pulled us both down on the bed, I landed on top of him, our faces inches apart.

“Thank you.” He mumbled.

“For what?” I said giving him a questionable look.

“For being here. For making me fall for you. For letting me marry you. Just for you being you.” He said making my heart melt.

“Always, Maxie. You’re mine forever.” I muttered pressing my lips to his. His grip around my waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

“I love you, schat.” He said as we pulled away.

“Love you more.” I said with a small smile.

—

Later, over mint tea and buttery apple cake Sophie had insisted on baking herself, I found myself laughing more than I expected.

“She was like this even when Max was a kid,” Victoria said, nodding toward her mother. “If you had a cough, you got tea and ten questions. If you had a secret, she already knew it.”

“Still do,” Sophie added, raising an eyebrow at both of us.

Max groaned from the other room. “Stop telling Ayana horror stories about me.”

“I’m not,” I said, teasing. “I like hearing about Max the Kid. Especially the one who used to name his Hot Wheels cars.”

Victoria cackled. “Don’t forget he used to cry when she beat him at Mario Kart.”

“I let her win,” Max called back.

“Sure you did,” Sophie and Victoria said in unison.

—

Later that night, when Victoria headed out to meet friends and Max had gone for a run, I found myself helping Sophie tidy up the garden. The sun was dipping low, all honey and gold.

“You know,” she said gently, snipping dead leaves from a potted basil, “he’s different with you.”

I froze for a second. “Different how?”

She smiled without looking at me. “Lighter. Not just happy —but a different kind of calm. That’s new for him.”

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, heart thudding. “He makes me feel safe. Even when everything else is loud.”

Sophie finally looked at me. “Then I’m glad you found each other. Even if it’s quiet. Especially because it’s quiet.”

“He has needed someone like you for quite sometime now. You bring out a side of my son that I have never really seen until now and for that I owe you everything.” She said with a smile. I felt my heart grow.

“I just do what he does for me. You raised one hell of a boy.” I said and she chuckled to herself.

“I am so glad to finally have another daughter. I wouldn’t have picked anyone else for him.” She scooted over and wrapped me in her arms.

“I missed being here with you guys. You all mean so much to me.” I muttered into her shoulder.

“And you mean the same to us, Liefde.”

—

F1gossipgirls posted!

25,289 likes.

F1gossipgirls: Max Verstappen was spotted by fans on a run around his home in the Netherlands!

username : wanna know who is also in the Netherlands? Ayana Hamilton.

liked by author

username2 : I really doubt they’d ever be a couple…let alone be able to keep it on the low this much

username5 : exactly..think about how famous they are and how hard it would be to keep that under wraps

username10 : say what you want yall I still believe it

username7 : absolutely no way lewis lets this happen

username : why else would she be there?

username11 : I believe there is some kind of music conference being held near by this week tbh

username : hush I don’t want to hear reason

—

That night, curled up in bed with Max, the windows cracked open to the breeze and distant crickets, I whispered, “Your mom’s incredible.”

He kissed my bare shoulder and said, “So are you.”

I smiled into the dark, fingers brushing over his arm where it curled around my waist. “You don’t think she suspects anything… do you?”

There was a beat — just the wind rustling through the trees outside and the soft exhale of his breath against my neck.

“She might,” he said honestly. “She knows me too well not to.”

“Is that bad?” I asked, quieter now.

“No,” Max murmured, pulling me just a little closer. “If she knows, it’s because she sees how different I am with you. And that’s not something I want to hide.”

I twisted slightly so I could see his face in the moonlight, silver edges tracing his jaw, his lashes soft against his cheeks. “Sometimes I forget how real this all is. Like it happened so fast, but somehow… it still feels right.”

“It is right,” he said, firm in the way only Max could be when he really meant something. “Even if we’re keeping it to ourselves. You and me — we don’t need a spotlight for it to matter.”

My heart clenched, full and warm. “I don’t need the world to know. Just you.”

He smiled, tired and tender, brushing his thumb along the curve of my hip beneath the blanket. “It’s funny. Everyone’s always watching us — timing laps, tracking stats, writing headlines. But the best part of my life… it’s this. This quiet. You.”

I buried my face into his chest then, letting the thud of his heartbeat ground me.

“I think your mom knew the second she saw the way I looked at you,” I whispered.

He laughed softly. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “I caught her watching me when you weren’t looking. Like she was piecing it together.”

“Well,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “if she did figure it out… she didn’t seem mad.”

“No,” I agreed, smiling into the dark. “She just seemed… proud.”

A comfortable silence settled between us again, the kind that only existed between two people who didn’t need to fill every space. Just being was enough.

And for the first time in a long time, the secrecy didn’t feel heavy.

It felt like something sacred.

—

The smell of fresh bread hit me before I even opened my eyes.

I stretched under the covers, blinking against the warm slant of morning sun cutting through the sheer curtains. From the kitchen below came the soft clatter of pans, the low hum of a radio playing some old Dutch jazz station, and Sophie’s humming — off-key and sweet.

Max was already up, of course. The spot beside me was empty but warm. My chest fluttered as I slipped out of bed, threw on his hoodie, and padded downstairs barefoot.

Sophie was at the stove, flipping something in a skillet. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard me.

“Goedemorgen, lieverd,” she said, smiling. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I replied, grinning. “It smells amazing.”

Max was already at the little breakfast table, barefoot in sweatpants, hair a mess. He looked over at me, and that soft kind of private smile passed between us — the one that made my knees a little weak even now.

I settled next to him, and he nudged a mug of coffee toward me. “Made it how you like it.”

“Thanks, husband,” I whispered, lips quirking.

He smirked.

Sophie turned with a plate of eggs, cheese, and rolls and set it down in front of us. “You two are whispering like teenagers.”

I froze just a beat too long. So did Max.

She noticed. Of course she did.

She arched a brow, hands on her hips. “Alright. What’s going on?”

Max glanced at me. I gave the smallest nod. My pulse thundered.

He reached for my hand under the table.

“Mam,” he started, steady but soft. “We’ve been meaning to tell you something. Something important.”

Sophie’s eyes flicked between us. She sat down slowly, like she already knew but was letting us get there.

“We got married,” I said, voice quiet but certain. “Last year. In Vegas. After the Grand Prix.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak.

“It was just us. No press. No big moment. Just… something that felt like ours,” Max added, eyes on his mother.

Sophie was quiet for a long moment, just watching us. Then, without a word, she reached out and placed her hand over both of ours.

“I knew there was something different,” she said finally, her voice thick. “But I didn’t want to assume. You two… you’ve always had a rhythm only you understand.”

I felt the lump rise in my throat.

She smiled then — watery and warm and full of so much love.

“I’m not upset. Just a little shocked. But I’m happy. Truly. If you make each other better — and I can see that you do — then that’s all I could ever ask for.”

Max squeezed my hand tightly, and I blinked fast, willing myself not to cry into my eggs.

Sophie stood and moved around the table, pulling me into a hug first, then Max. She kissed his cheek, then mine.

“When you’re ready to tell the rest of the world,” she said gently, “you’ll have me in your corner.”

And somehow, in that tiny kitchen filled with warm bread, mismatched mugs, and morning sunlight — it felt like a second kind of vow had been made.

—

We’d just finished hanging laundry on the line in the garden behind Sophie’s house. The sky was that pale, perfect Dutch blue, and the air smelled like basil and sunlight. Max had stolen another kiss while we folded bedsheets — laughing, relaxed, nothing but warmth between us.

Then we heard the car.

It wasn’t Sophie’s.

The rumble was too aggressive. Too familiar.

Max’s shoulders stiffened almost instantly. My smile faded as he turned toward the driveway, jaw clenching.

“Wait here,” he muttered, and before I could say anything, he was already striding toward the front of the house.

I followed anyway — heart thudding as I peeked around the corner.

Jos Verstappen was standing in the driveway, arms crossed, eyes already hard.

“Didn’t expect you to be here,” Max said flatly.

“Clearly,” Jos replied, glancing around. “You’ve been dodging my calls. Again.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With her?” Jos didn’t even try to lower his voice.

My stomach dropped as his eyes landed on me.

“That’s why you’re hiding out here? With Hamilton’s sister?” he scoffed, stepping forward. “You think this is what your focus should be on? This— whatever this is?”

Max moved so fast it made me jump — stepping in front of me like a shield, voice sharp.

“Watch your tone.”

Jos raised a brow. “I’m concerned. You’ve changed. You’re distracted. You don’t think people are talking?”

“I don’t care what people are talking about,” Max said coldly. “My life, my choices. You don’t get a say.”

“And her?” Jos gestured at me like I was something fragile. Dismissible. “This is serious now? You think this is the right match for someone in your position?”

That’s when I felt it — the shift in Max.

His spine straightened. His fists unclenched, not with calm, but with control.

And his voice dropped, low and deadly calm.

“We’re married.”

Jos froze.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Max said, stepping even closer. “Vegas. Last year. No media. No drama. Just us.”

Jos’ mouth opened, but Max cut him off.

“You don’t have to approve. You don’t even have to like it. But what you will do is show her respect. Because she’s not going anywhere.”

I blinked fast, throat tight. Jos looked from Max to me — and for a second, something almost like disbelief cracked his face.

Then he scoffed. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” Max said, his voice full of certainty. “For once, I found something real. And I’m not letting you ruin it.”

Silence fell — thick and loaded.

Jos shook his head, muttered something in Dutch under his breath, and walked back toward his car. He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t look back.

When the engine finally disappeared down the road, I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath the whole time.

Max turned, immediately coming to me, his hands cupping my face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, brow creased. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“You didn’t either,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes — not from fear, but from the way he’d stood in front of me like the whole world could break and he’d still protect what we had.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re my wife. That means something to me — no matter who tries to question it.”

And in that moment, I knew nothing — not legacy, not headlines, not even blood — could shake the ground we’d built together.

—

The house was quiet again.

Max hadn’t let go of my hand since Jos left — not while we sat on the back steps, not while I leaned against his shoulder in silence, not even now as the hum of a car came up the drive again.

We both knew it was Sophie.

Her familiar old hatchback pulled up slowly, the back seat full of fresh produce and wildflowers she’d picked from the Saturday market. She climbed out, calling cheerfully toward the garden.

“Are you two hiding from the sun or plotting something?”

I tried to stand, but Max gently pulled me back down. “I’ve got it.”

He met her halfway, kissed her cheek, and helped unload the bags. But Sophie’s mom-radar was instant. The moment her eyes landed on him — on the tension around his jaw, on the way his shoulders were still tight — she paused.

“What happened?” she asked, quiet now.

Max glanced at me, then looked back at her.

“Jos came by.”

Sophie’s whole face shifted.

“And?”

“He saw Ayana.”

Sophie’s gaze flicked to me where I still sat on the steps. “And what exactly did he say to her?”

Max exhaled slowly, jaw clenching again. “Nothing I’m going to repeat. But I told him. About us. Everything.”

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment. Not dramatically — just like she was centering herself.

She placed the bag of tomatoes on the kitchen table, then walked outside toward me. I stood automatically, trying to hold it together.

“I’m fine,” I started to say, voice cracking slightly. “I just—”

She wrapped her arms around me before I could finish.

Not a polite hug. Not a casual gesture.

A mother’s hug.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “He’s not an easy man. He never was. But you don’t deserve to be made to feel small in this family. And I won’t let it happen again.”

I let out a slow, shaky breath into her shoulder. “I didn’t want to be the reason there’s tension.”

She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “You’re not. He is. And if he can’t see how good you are for my son — how happy he is with you — that’s his own blindness.”

Max came up behind me, resting a hand on my back, his other laced with mine again. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Sophie said firmly. Then she turned and walked back inside, already muttering, “Well, now we need something stronger than tea.”

Max laughed under his breath, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.

“She’s on our side,” he whispered.

And somehow, the weight of the day felt a little lighter with Sophie in the room. Family, after all, wasn’t always about blood. Sometimes, it was about who stayed when things got loud.

—

It was tucked away off a narrow country road — the kind of restaurant you’d miss if you weren’t looking. No sign, no streetlights. Just an iron gate, ivy-covered walls, and a menu you had to be invited to see.

Max had made the reservation days ago. Just the two of us. No press, no fans, no distractions. Just husband and wife.

He reached across the table, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “You look beautiful.”

I raised an eyebrow, smiling. “You’ve said that three times already.”

“And I meant it all three times.”

We ate under soft golden light, the windows cracked open to let in the summer breeze. The staff treated us like old friends — discreet, warm, and silent where it counted. The food was decadent: hand-rolled pasta, wine neither of us could pronounce, and a chocolate mousse I nearly cried over.

“It’s kind of perfect,” I whispered after the second glass of wine. “Almost too perfect.”

Max leaned in, eyes sparkling. “You waiting for the plot twist?”

I laughed. “Always.”

But the twist wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even loud.

It came in a quiet wave of nausea on the drive home.

I said nothing at first — just tightened my grip on the door handle, hoping it would pass.

By the time we stepped through the front door of Sophie’s house, the world was spinning just slightly. I kicked off my shoes too fast and stumbled toward the bathroom without saying a word.

“Yana?” Max called after me.

I closed the door gently behind me and gripped the sink, willing the dizziness to stop. My stomach flipped, sharp and fast.

Not food poisoning. Not nerves. Just… off.

I rinsed my face with cold water, trying to breathe.

Outside, Max hovered.

“I’m fine,” I called, not quite sure if it was true.

He was waiting when I opened the door, worry carved into every line of his face.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, half-laughing. “Probably just rich food and wine. You know I don’t eat like that often.”

Before he could argue, Sophie’s soft voice floated from the hallway.

“Everything alright?”

She was in her robe, arms crossed gently, not alarmed — but watching.

I nodded, pasting on a tired smile. “Just a little queasy. We had this insane truffle risotto—”

Sophie raised a brow, said nothing.

Max put an arm around my waist. “She just needs sleep.”

“I’ll make some mint tea,” Sophie said, already turning toward the kitchen. “It’ll help.”

But as she filled the kettle, her eyes drifted back toward the staircase. Her fingers paused just slightly on the stove dial.

She didn’t say it out loud.

Didn’t press.

Didn’t ask the question already blooming in the back of her mind.

But as Max helped me up to bed and kissed my forehead goodnight, Sophie stood quietly in the kitchen, tea steaming in her hand, a far-off look in her eyes.

It wasn’t the food.

She knew that.

It was something else.

Something beginning.

—

p3 complete! requests always open:)

tag list : tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505 , @hc-dutch , @lost4lyrics

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ruewritesoccasionally · 1 day ago

Text

Made for Me | Terry Richmond

pairing: terry richmond x black reader

summary: after a long day on the job, all terry wants is the warmth of his woman and the comfort of home. but when she’s not waiting at the door, he finds something even sweeter waiting in bed and a night that reminds him just how lucky he is.

word count: 2.3K

warnings: fluff, explicit smut (18+), praise kink, soft dom/sub dynamics, domestic intimacy, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk, themes of possessiveness + ownership, aftercare

a/n: soft!dom terry and wife worship ?? sign me up

The door creaked open on its hinges, the familiar weight of it grounding Terry as he stepped inside, steel-toe boots thudding heavily against the floor. The scent of home hit him first, something warm, seasoned, and slow-cooked. His stomach grumbled. His shoulders ached. Muscles pulled taut from a long shift, grease still clinging under his fingernails and grit caked into the lines of his palms.

The house was quiet.

No soft footsteps rushing to the door. No warm body throwing arms around his neck, peppering kisses across his jaw, teasing him for smelling like diesel and sweat. Just silence, low-lit lamps, and the soft hum of something playing faintly from the kitchen radio.

He paused, brows drawing together. Not in frustration, just… surprise. He had been used to her. To that light in his day, that little smile she always wore just for him, like she had been waiting all afternoon just to make him feel like a king walking through the door.

Instead, he found a plate waiting on the kitchen counter, wrapped neatly in foil. Beside it, a little note written in her hand:

“Eat up, baby. I made your favourite. Didn’t want it to get cold. I’ll be waiting in bed. I love you.”

—x—

A slow smile curved across his face as he pulled off his jacket, fingers lingering on the note. His chest swelled, soft with affection and longing. God, he loved her.

Still… something about the house without her presence at the door made it feel too still. Like it hadn’t quite turned into home yet.

He sat down, ate with quiet gratitude, licking sauce from his thumb and letting the warmth of her cooking settle in his bones. But the thing he really craved?

Was upstairs.

Waiting for him.

Terry set his empty plate in the sink, gave the note one last glance, and sighed like a man already half-asleep on his feet. Every muscle begged for rest, but his mind was fixed on her - how quiet the house felt without her laughter drifting from the living room, or the scent of her skin hugging him in welcome.

Upstairs, he peeled off his clothes slow. Not for show, he never did anything just for show but because that was how he unwound. Belt undone, jeans shrugged off one leg at a time, T-shirt pulled over his head and tossed into the hamper with a tired grunt.

The shower steamed quickly, hot and heavy as he stepped beneath the spray. Dirt and sweat ran in rivulets down his broad back, his arms, his thick thighs. He braced one hand on the wall, head bowed, letting the water drum against sore shoulders. Another day down.

He reached for the soap, lathered up slowly, scrubbing the grime from his skin. A breathy chuckle escaped as he murmured to himself, low and fond,

“She’d still call me handsome even when I come home smelling like work. Crazy little thing.”

He thought of her in that second, probably curled up in bed, half-asleep, wearing one of those soft nightgowns she swore weren’t sexy. But to him?

God, nothing had ever looked better.

He washed his neck, thinking of her lips there. Washed between his legs, thinking of how her hands always fit just right. She had been in every thought, every muscle memory, every sigh that left his lungs.

He finished up with another long pass of water over his face, letting the day slide off him completely. Then, towel slung low on his hips, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, he stepped out, silent and barefoot, ready to find the heart of his home.

The bedroom was dim and quiet, moonlight cutting soft lines across the floor. Terry stepped in, still towel-clad, still warm from the shower, and stopped in his tracks.

There she was.

Curled up on her side of the bed, delicate and small despite how deeply she filled every corner of his heart. One arm tucked under her head, legs drawn up, nightdress bunched up high on her thighs like it always did when she slept deep and undisturbed.

It wasn’t anything flashy; no lace, no satin. Just a soft, worn little thing. Wife-core to the bone. But it was hers. And on her? Christ. It clung to every soft swell and gentle curve like it was stitched by the hands of fate just for her and his eyes alone.

Terry stood there for a long moment, just watching. Chest aching with something bigger than exhaustion, heavier than lust. That familiar swell behind the ribs, the feeling that this was what made every long shift worth it.

He padded closer, slow and quiet, not wanting to startle her. The towel slipped lower on his hips as he knelt beside the bed and reached out.

His fingers brushed the bare skin of her calf, warm and smooth under his calloused hand.

“Baby,” he whispered, voice low and thick with longing. “Come into bed more. You know I couldn’t sleep without holdin’ my girl.”

She stirred, slow and groggy, barely blinking as she turned her head toward him. Her voice was a breath of air, soft and drowsy:

“Wanted to leave space for you…”

God.

It hit him like a punch to the gut - the kind that stole your breath not from pain, but from love so thick it pressed into your lungs.

“Aw, sweetheart…”

He eased the blanket back, climbed in beside her, strong arms snaking around her waist. One hand slid up her side, coaxing her gently toward him, cradling her like she was made of spun sugar.

She stretched in that half-asleep way, arms forward, legs back, and her body arched, slow and feline. The hem of her nightdress hiked up over her hips in the process. And that was when he saw it.

Nothing underneath.

No panties. Just bare, warm, glistening skin.

Terry stilled.

His breath stopped in his chest, then spilled out in one slow, ragged draw. That pulse between his legs kicked alive, instant and undeniable.

“Ooooh fuck, woman…” His voice was thick, almost reverent, laced with a growl at the end. “The things you do to me.”

He didn’t pounce. He didn’t rush.

No, he slid out from under the covers, knelt behind her at the edge of the bed, and just looked.

Big hands spread her thighs with reverent care. He groaned under his breath at the sight—soft folds slick and glistening, waiting, aching. Her warmth already called to him.

“You tryna kill me, leavin’ this sweet little thing waitin’ for me like that?” His voice dipped lower, rougher. He palmed the curve of her ass, leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, slow and indulgent.

One hand kept her spread while the other ran up her spine, settling over her lower back. His mouth hovered just barely above her cunt, his breath ghosting over sensitive skin.

He kissed her again, right there, tongue parting her lips in a slow, deliberate lick from back to front.

“Mmhm… you taste like my girl. My good little wife. Built for me, huh?”

Terry was already on his knees, shoulders square between her thighs. The room was quiet, still, save for the soft sigh of her breathing and the low hum of his voice, thick with hunger.

He leaned in again, tongue flattening as he licked a long, deliberate stripe up her soaked centre. Her thighs twitched. He hummed into her, pleased.

“You taste like my whole damn world, baby…” he groaned, barely audible as he pressed another open-mouthed kiss to her folds. “This pussy’s heaven.”

He didn’t rush. He savoured.

Slow, deep licks. Tongue flicking against her clit, then dipping lower to tease her entrance, then lower still, giving her ass the same reverence, like she was made of gold and he was here to worship.

He ate like a man starved. Gripping the meat of her thighs to keep her still while he feasted, each moan vibrating against her until she was gasping, trembling, toes curled into the sheets.

“Can’t believe this is mine…” he panted, between licks. “Sweetest fuckin’ thing I ever tasted. Goddamn, girl, you spoil me.”

She tried to wriggle, the pressure building too fast—but he didn’t let her go.

“Uh-uh, stay right there. Don’t you run from me.”

He groaned as she began to fall apart, her thighs squeezing around his head, her voice cracking with breathless, desperate moans.

That was what he wanted. That was what he needed.

She came with a whimper, shaking, face buried in a pillow, and he didn’t stop, not until she was gasping, twitching, overstimulated.

Only then did he pull back, face wet, eyes dark, voice wrecked with praise.

“That’s my good girl… makin’ Daddy proud.

The moment he sank into her, it was deep, slow—deliberate. He paused just for a second, allowing her to adjust to the fullness of him before pulling her closer. The weight of him stretched her, making her gasp softly. He watched her closely, his hands digging into her waist, fingers marking her skin as if he wanted to brand her.

He let her ride for a moment, a slow rhythm at first. Her hips rolled against him, taking what he gave her, each movement driving him mad with the sweet friction.

Then, with one swift motion, he flipped her. Her body landed with a soft thud against the bed, and he loomed over her, a grin playing on his lips, cock still buried deep inside her. He couldn’t stop himself from praising her, the words spilling out like they’d been pent up for far too long.

“The boys at work don’t know I come home to a pussy like this,” he gritted, voice rough and possessive. “They can only dream about this. My perfect little wife. Built just for me, aren’t you?”

Her brain was fogged with pleasure. Her body could barely keep up. She wanted to respond, but all she could manage was a desperate, incoherent whimper.

Terry chuckled darkly at her lack of words. His hand came down on her ass with a sharp, satisfying crack. The sound reverberated in the room, making the heat between them even hotter. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, gravelly and commanding.

“Say it. Tell Daddy who owned this sweet fuckin’ cunt.”

Her body trembled, and she could barely speak through the haze of pleasure. But she knew what he wanted. She knew he would never let up until she gave him what he needed.

“Y-You, Terry,” she gasped, voice cracking with the intensity of it all. “You own me. All yours.”

The words sent a surge of possessiveness through him, and he rutted into her, pushing deeper. His body moved like an unstoppable force, each thrust a little harder, a little faster, until she was gasping, clinging to the sheets beneath her.

He could feel her tightness, her heat, her desperate need for him. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her, keeping her in place as he took what was his.

“Good girl,” he murmured, praising her through gritted teeth. “So fuckin’ good for me. I could never share you. You’re built just for me.”

Her body trembled with the force of each thrust, and Terry could feel the way she tightened around him, her orgasm building. He slapped her ass again, louder this time, and heard her voice break with pleasure, feeling her pussy flutter around him in response.

Her moans fuelled him, making him want to lose himself in her.

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice thick with need. “Tell me who owned this pussy.”

Her words spilled out in a rush, breathless and full of need. “You do, Terry! You own me! I’m yours!”

Her response spurred him on, and his pace quickened. He felt himself getting closer, he could feel the tightening in his gut, the familiar rush of pleasure building inside him. Her cries became more frantic, her body rocking in time with his.

Then, just when he thought he couldn’t hold back anymore, he hit that perfect spot—the spot that made her scream out in pleasure. She cried his name, her orgasm rushing over her in waves. Her body shook, and the sound of her release drove him wild.

The warmth of her pleasure, the way her body tightened around him, pushed him over the edge. With a final groan, he released, burying himself deep inside her as his own orgasm hit, flooding her with his warmth.

He stayed still for a moment, chest heaving, both of them caught in the aftershocks of the intensity of it all.

The room felt thick with warmth and sweat, the air still humming with the echoes of their bodies. Terry moved slowly, as if the world had quieted around them. He reached for a soft towel by the bed, careful not to pull too far from her. His movements were gentle, reverent, like he was handling something sacred.

He murmured something low, a kiss pressed to the curve of her shoulder. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

She whimpered softly, spent and pliant, trusting him entirely as he cleaned her up. Every swipe was tender, not rushed, like he was committing her to memory all over again. He tossed the towel aside when he was done and slipped back under the blankets, gathering her close until her body curved perfectly into his.

One arm wrapped firmly around her middle, the other came up to stroke her hair—slow, soothing, like he could lull her to sleep just with the rhythm of his touch. His nose nuzzled the top of her head, breath brushing her temple.

“You’re all I ever wanted,” he whispered, voice thick with everything he didn’t say aloud. “My good girl. My whole damn heart.”

She didn’t speak right away, too heavy-limbed and sated, but when she did, her voice was small and drowsy.

“You’re mine too.”

Her words settled into him like a prayer, anchoring him. Terry tightened his hold just slightly, grounding himself in the weight of her, the scent of her skin, the soft rise and fall of her chest against his.

Outside, the moonlight peeked in faint silver slivers through the curtains. But inside their little world, everything was warm and still.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#ruewrites #terry richmond #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #rebel ridge

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rafesbuzzcutseason · 19 hours ago

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wicked game

chapter 10 - charming

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language, alcohol

it was a long, exhausting night after lucas left. you felt numb, empty, lost. but a part of you felt relief. and you felt so guilty for feeling that.

you didn't let the girls come over straight away, you wanted to deal with it yourself and process it, but you knew you needed to go out tonight to stop yourself from moping.

by the time the evening had had arrived, your chest still felt heavy, but the grief had dulled into something quieter. something you felt able to carry.

you allowed yourself to get dressed up, promising the girls you would meet them there as you just needed to take your time.

you stared at the dress hanging on the back of your chair that sarah had given to you back when you first became roommates. "wear this when you want to feel hot. trust me." she had said to you that night.

this was one of those nights.

you put it on, did a quick once over and decided it was good enough for right now.

the kappa tau house was, as always, buzzing and full of energy by the time you got there.

you found kie and cleo, who both did a quick double-take when they saw you, expressions flashing from surprise to concern to that unspoken thank god you’re here kind of relief.

"you made it,” kie said, immediately pulling you into a hug. "how are you?" she asked with sincerity.

you gave a weak smile. "ask me after drink number three."

cleo handed you a red solo cup like she’d already prepared for that answer. "you don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to."

"i know," you said, taking a sip. "i just want to be with my girls tonight."

"speaking of..." cleo nodded towards the corner where john b and sarah were making out. "she's been a little preoccupied."

you laughed, "so they're official huh?"

"apparently so. they're fucking whipped." kie sighed.

"she's never in our dorm anymore. always at his." you smiled softly, glad she had someone like him. "i'm happy for her." they nodded in agreement.

for a little while, it was easy. you laughed, danced, and let the negative thoughts stay hidden. but as the night went on, you felt yourself overwhelmed and in need of a break.

"i'm just gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. you guys carry on." you said to the girls.

"are you okay? do you want us to come with you?" kie rushed, always the first one to worry.

"i'm fine! i promise. just getting a bit sweaty."

"ok, but we're here for you, yeah?" cleo spoke with concern.

"i know i know. i'll be back shortly." you stepped away, slipping through the crowd in the living room and making it out to the garden. it was quieter, darker, with the slight flicker of cigarettes being lit and phone screens.

you exhaled deeply, the cool air hitting your skin like a reset button. you leaned against the wall, letting your head fall back, eyes closed, just trying to feel something besides the dull ache in your chest that comes back as soon as you're alone.

"you always sneak off during our parties?"

the voice startled you, pulling you out your trance.

"i didn’t know you were out here," you said quietly.

"didn’t know you were either. guess we both needed a break."

you glanced at rafe for a moment before returning your gaze to the backyard. "you always this good at finding people when they want to be alone?"

"not really. just tends to always be you." he shrugged, "why do you want to be alone?"

"just not really in a people mood right now."

he tilted his head slightly, watching you. "rough night?"

"lucas and i broke up." you responded bluntly.

rafe didn’t say anything at first, just nodded slowly. no told you so. no smug comment. just a shift in his expression. shock and a hint of sympathy.

"you okay?" he asked after a few minutes.

"yeah," you said finally. "i think it wasn't good for a while. he wasn't like, bad or anything. we just grew apart. it felt pretend. and that's exhausting in itself."

he didn’t push you for more. "i get that," voice softer now. "sometimes it’s easier to fake it than admit it's kinda falling apart.”

you looked over at him then, his face barely lit by the glow of the inside, his eyes steady on yours. there was no judgment there. just a weird kind of understanding.

"you always this philosophical at parties?" you let out a small laugh.

he cracked a smile. "only when i run into pretty girls in gardens."

you rolled your eyes, but your lips tugged into the faintest smile, "charming"

"you smiled," he said, "that’s gotta count for something."

"we seem to end up together at parties away from everyone else quite a lot." you said, sitting down against the wall.

"is that a problem?" he sat beside you, close but not too close.

"not really," you said after a beat, voice quieter now. "just… interesting."

he hummed in response, resting his arms on his knees, head tilted slightly like he was trying to read between the lines of your words. "maybe it’s a sign."

you looked over at him, brows raised. "a sign? for what?"

"that you secretly like my company," he said, glancing at you with the smallest smirk, but it didn’t come off cocky. "or maybe you just keep ending up in the same places i go when i’m trying to get away."

"away from what?"

"the pressure of being a frat guy."

you both burst into laughter, you swatted his shoulder, but rafe caught your hand before it could hit him. and he didn't let go. holding it before slowly brushing his hand against yours, just gently. just enough for you to decide.

you hesitated, then turned your hand over, letting your fingers curl lightly into his. it wasn’t romantic. it wasn’t even flirtatious. it was steady. grounding. quiet.

his thumb grazed your knuckles, barely there. "you’re allowed to feel relief," he said softly, his voice low and warm. "even if it hurts. even if it’s messy."

"you always like this when you’re not pretending to be an asshole?"

he let out a small laugh. "don’t tell anyone. ruins the brand."

you smiled again, this time more real.

"i'm glad i keep bumping into you." you whispered after a while.

"yeah." he replied, just as quietly. "me too."

a/n: i hate this chapter wahhhhhhh anyway how much of this is bet rafe and how much is real rafe mwahahha

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#smau #rafe cameron #obx #obxsmau #boyfriend rafe #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #wicked game #college au #frat boy!rafe #frat!rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe fanfiction

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liljizzy86 · 3 days ago

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pls i need an angst/fluff with quinn and how he’s been since the canucks have virtually fallen apart in post season.

Little ball of anxiety and worry

Quinn Hughes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Quinn is exhausted and his girl knows it better than anyone

Warnings: Angst, sad Quinn, like really sad Quinn

Author: Thank you for the request <3, I had fun writing this one. It was my first time writing angst, so I hope it wasn't so bad. And once again sorry for not posting for so long, but I really want to go back to write and do it more frequently. Love you all, stay safe.

��–//—-

The season is officially over.

In a way, Quinn feels alleviate, he can rest a bit now.

But at the same time he feels more stressed than ever. He tried everything to make this season work, and as the captain all of the weight of not being able to get in the playoff ends in his back.

He feels like he is the only one to blame for the decline of performance on the team. Even if his girl, that was waiting for him at home right now, tries to remind him that hockey is a team sport, it is no one's fault, and even less Quinn’s fault.

He tries to keep that in mind, tries to calm himself down, but that is difficult when he is in front of all these journalists that as they do his job, they seem to remind him of his worries.

It is his fault.

The Canucks are not in the playoffs and it is his fault.

I only want to go home

When he is finally free from the media, he is working in automatic.

No celebrating.

He can’t even remember saying ‘goodbye’ to the team or the staff.

Quinn only knows that he changed his clothes, going to his car and driving home. Not because he remembers doing it, but because he can actively see it done, as he seats in the driver's seat of his car, breathing, practicing the smile he is gonna sport as soon as he opens the apartment door and sees his girlfriend.

And that’s what he does.

Exactly what he expects to happen, does.

His efforts to fake a wellness that he doesn’t feel were as useless as he knew were gonna be. As soon as the girl on the couch saw his face, she immediately knew that something was wrong and what was wrong.

She knew her boyfriend like the palm of her hand.

As soon as the sound of the door was heard, she was off the couch and rushing to hug him.

Of course she knew that he was sad, depressed even, but she never expected for it to be so…visible?

Since they started dating, 3 years ago, Quinn would always hide his emotions, not because he was afraid of seeming weak, but because he didn’t want to worry her excessively. This relationship was his first that the girl actually cared for his well being, of his mental wellness. This girl was the first that would cuddle with him and let him vent, and worry about it.

But this was the first time in those 3 years that, even with a fake smile in his face, he looked exhausted.

He couldn't hide his emotions, his tiredness.

“Come here,baby” That was the first thing Quinn her as she approached.

No ‘hi’, no ‘how are you’.

She didn’t need that, and neither did Quinn.

All she wants right now is to cuddle and make him feel safe and at least a bit better.

“I tried…” He whispered in her shoulder.

He hunched over her and accepted her hug.

She guided them to the couch, where she delicately pushed both down and laid with him on top.

The boy's body immediately melted over her touch, still tense but just her as a whole, her touch, her smell, her presence, is enough for him to relax, even if just a little bit.

For the first time in very long, Quinn let himself be vulnerable in front of anyone else.

“I swear I tried to make it happen.” Still whispering, this time in her shoulder, he lets the tears free. “I know we have been out of the playoffs for a while now but…” a sigh.

“It feels real now.” The girl finishes, feeling him nod slightly.

He continues to mumble on her, crying, saying more disconnected words than proper sentences. But she doesn’t stop him, he needs to let it all out, it has been bottled up for so long. Any of her words of encouragement would have any effect, so she remains in silence, just comforting him, hearing his laments, just sliding a hand over his back going up and messing with hair.

That went for about an hour, when his cries subsided.

She looked down, trying to see if Quinn was awake or not.

He was. Brownish eyes looking back at her.

“Feeling a little better, love?” She asked, still scratching his scalp.

“Yeah.” He says. “ I am just so exhausted. If the team fails, all the journalists blame it on me. If the team wins, suddenly it is a team effort. I’m just so tired of being blamed for everything, even when I have absolutely no control. It gets to a point that I start to believe them, you know, that it is all my fault. It isn’t my fault that the team is shit.” He speaks this time in full sentences and with no strong sobs. “I know that we could’ve done better, I know it for a fact, and I blame myself for it everyday. Everytime i look at the stats, the only thing I can think of is ‘dammit, I could have led this team a whole different way, and maybe we would be at the playoffs’. But we’re not, and I can't change the past. If I could’ve done differently I would. But I can't. Of course I get the harsher of it all, I mean, I am the captain. But I don’t see the future and I can't change the past. And it is not like I am trying to sabotage the team, my own team, right? I don’t know, baby, I…I think I just need to sleep it off a bit. Maybe tomorrow I feel better.”

She doesn’t contradicts. She only agrees.

The couple gets up from the couch and goes to their room, where they change into their pajamas and get ready for bed.

Once both of them cuddle under the sheets, legs tangled and arms intertwined. Quinn lays on his back, trying to look at the ceiling, in order to avoid the girl's gaze from his chest.

“Quinny, love.” she tries to call his attention. “Look at me, love. Please. ”

He doesn’t want to. He wants to avoid this conversation, at least now. But he can’t resist her pleadings. So he does. His eyes connect with hers.

God, he loved those eyes. Always so shiny, and bright, full of life.

“It is not your fault.” She directs him a small cute smile. One that he can’t resist but to retrieve. “You are not the one to blame for. Yes you are the captain but you cannot control a hundred percent of what all of your players or the other team’s do throughout the season. You do not control when you get injuries and even when you play through them, you can only do so much.” Her hand that was sprawled on his belly, now makes its way to his face, where she scratches his bearded cheek. “You are the best captain that the team could ask for. But baby, I know this is easier for me to ask than for you to do, and I do not blame you for it, you are a little ball of anxiety and worry, I know it, but please at least try, if you can try it for yourself, try it for me. But baby, I beg you, try to leave this behind your back now, for the summer. The season is over and now you are off season, let's look ahead. From August ahead you have a full new season to worry and to stress over. But now, you are in the off season. So please let's relax a bit, yeah?”

He let’s a little laugh at her.

“Sure baby, I’ll try it for you and for our peaceful summer.” he kissed the top of her head and lets out a sigh, visibly more calm, less tense. “Now please, let’s sleep. I had a very long day and I am extremely tired.”

She just nods and scutches closer to him, making sure her head is comfortably laid in his chest, ready for both of them to sleep.

“Goodnight Quinny”

“Goodnight love.”

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

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flaresemily · 2 days ago

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ᏴᎪͲ ҒᎪᎷᏆᏞᎽ Х ΝᎬᏀᏞᎬᏟᎬᎠ ᎡᎬᎪᎠᎬᎡ.

★ αll Եհís թαíղ í բҽҽl. ís Եհís lօѵҽ? օɾ... ղҽցlҽcԵ?

⚠warning⚠ mention of : torture. Stitches. Burn mark. Neglecting. Please proceed with caution. If you are uncomfortable with this kind of thing please ignored this story. Unless you can take the risk

Masterlist : Part 1

It started small…so small. You were Bruce and Selina's daughter. (Yes you are and today you are not some random woman child)

They all love you. Yes, yes they did. Dick takes you to the park sometimes to Bludhaven. Jason, despite being revived again, is cautious with you. Tim being the smarty pants he is actually teaches you how to do math! Damian? Oh Damian, he loves you.

But that all happened one night. At the age of 6 you notice your eyes color is different from both your parents. Bruce didn't notice yet, not even Selina did.

You know who did? Alfred did. How? Simple. He was preparing you to have a family dinner with the others. Of course you are excited. I mean…who wouldn't?

You were so excited you didn't notice the stairs. You trip down the stairs and say bye bye to your head.

As soon as you wake up, Alfred is there taking care of you while your parents and siblings fall asleep on the floor or couch.

That's when he noticed. His eyes widened. “Miss…your eyes? It's pink?”

You just stare at him wondering. When Bruce wakes up he notices your bright pink eyes. That's when it all went downhill.

Bruce and Selina fight all the time. With Bruce accusing her of cheating and her trying to defend your right. And then the next thing you knew.

Divorce paper was signed and Selina has moved out, returning to her work as Catwoman. You just stand there awkwardly. You guys are probably wondering how the family starts to neglect you.

It's because Bruce started it first. Everytime he looks at you. His eyes fill with betrayal. He started to drink and neglect his work as Batman. When he did become Batman oh boy. He doesn't have mercy on any of the villian.

The boys started to blame you little by little because everytime Bruce made eye contact with you. He felt despair. Those bright pink eyes. He looked back through your old picture and noticed something in your eyes. Each picture where you are. You have dark red eyes. From far it looks like black eyes but it turns out to be dark red. Crimson red like blood.

He never noticed your eye color but he clearly remembers that when you were born you had his hair and eye color so…what changed?

Then, one day after finishing your lunch alone. You hear your mother's voice. You quickly run to where the voice is. And there she is talking with Bruce and Alfred with all the boys assembled there. Then she presents a girl the same age as you. 6 years old. But with blue eyes. Bruce's eyes. You stared at them from afar.

Selina handed Bruce something and he looked shocked. He quickly kneels down and hugs the girl. After he finishes hugging her. He stood up and looked at the boys while smiling. You miss his smile.

“This here is your real sister. Y/n.” He announced. Dick takes the paper and scans the DNA test and damn…it is the same Bruce and Selina DNA that came out positive with the girl. (Something like that idk how to describe it but the DNA is positive about the girl being their daughter.)

You can feel your stomach twist. That's when you run to them. “Papa!” You called out to Bruce. All eyes turn to look at you. Even the girl did. You don't know why but you feel…scared as if you did something wrong. “Papa…” Selina just stares at you.

“Papa? Who is she?” Ask the girl. Jason looks at the little one and replies. “It's nothing she's the new maid Alfred hired to be your playmate. Alfred looks shocked too.

“But master? She–” Bruce raises his hand to signal Alfred to stop talking. “Just like Jason says. Since I can't really throw you out considering the outside is Gotham. Then I have no choice but to take you in. From now on you are no longer Y/n Wayne. I do not have a daughter with pink eyes. You may pick out another name for yourself.” just like that your little heart shattered.

Bruce turns to the other daughter. He picked her up. “But you my dear shall be Y/n Wayne the real Y/n Wayne” he smiled gently at her and Carried her to the living room. You just stared blankly at the place they once stood.

Alfred looks at you and leads you somewhere. “Mis– I mean uhm dear. I'll buy your outfit later, alright?” you just stare at him with betrayal in your eyes. You don't understand why Alfred treats you like this.

Everyday is like hell to you. Not only Bruce and the others openly spoil her. They seem to be abusing you mentally. Apparently this…daughter has some fear. Especially in the dark. Dick will always sleep with her. Sometimes she sleeps with Bruce and sometimes Damian reads her bedtime stories. While you?

You are trained to be the perfect maid for her. Your new name? Well it's [name] now.

(Pls use different name for Y/n and different name for [name])

Years passed by. You don't even remember how many scars you have on your back. One from when Damian was angry with the joker for trying to ‘almost’ kill his precious sister. He was training and you tried to earn his trust. Big mistake. He was so angry that he slash everything on his way. You were 7

While training with his katana he uses a blindfold. He didn't notice it was you and he ‘accidentally’ slash you from In front. Luckily Alfred was there to save you from bleeding too much. Damian never apologized.

Second scar was a burn mark.

You are tasked to bring some tea to Jason as he's tired. In the garage he was fixing his motorcycle. You once again try to earn his trust. Accidentally pick up a crowbar and drag it across the floor. He who heard it immediately went to his ‘survival’ mode.

He literally choke you and hold the teapot close to your left eyes and pour it down. Making you scream in pain. Luckily again Dick was on his way to the garage when he saw this. He quickly pushes Jason away and brings you to the hospital. Sadly the scar is permanent. Jason never apologized. You were 8

The third scar hurts you more. Apparently ‘y/n’ went missing and the family went crazy looking for her. At the same time you went missing too. Coincidence huh.

The kidnapper posted a video where they cut and stitched ‘y/n’ back up again to the batfamily. They all went crazy raiding that place looking for her. When they did. Bruce carries her still bleeding body to the manor. How many stitches does she have?

Let's count!

Both arms - 4 = 2 at each arms

Both legs - 2 = 1 each legs

Stomach - 3 = they cut and stitched back up

Back - 5 = same thing they did to the stomach.

Left chest - 1 = they cut open to see the ‘heart’ in a hurry they didn't stitch it properly.

Bruce was apologizing again and again to her. Key word = her.

Then Tim noticed someone standing at the front door. It's Selina and…y/n!!

Then he looked at the unconscious girl in Bruce's arms and he took off the blindfold and was shocked. It isn't their precious y/n it's you!! Bruce almost let you go but he kept a tight grip. His tears already stop and he takes you inside the manor. The rest of your recovery is tended by Alfred.

That's when Selina tells them she forgets to inform Bruce she's taking y/n for a mother- daughter outing.

You who are barely conscious could only let a tear fall down.

Present time

You are 15 now. Same age as y/n. You [name] l/n. You are forced to abandon your name to some wannabe you. Like it or not hey it's life.

“[name] go hang the laundry please I need to pick up the miss at school.

Your age : 15

Wannabe you : 15

Damian : 17

Tim : 19

Jason : 23

Dick : 26

Bruce : 46 (let's all just pretend okay?)

Selina : 46 (PRETEND OKAY!)

“Yes Alfred.” Being a maid wasn't on your bucket list when you were little but now…you can't complain cause Bruce truly treats you like a maid meaning…

Maid + salary + Wayne manor = a lot of money

So a win-win situation.

After Alfred picks her up from school. You were cooking lunch for them. Before suddenly you feel dizzy. So you quickly cook lunch and lay on the bed in the maid room.

That's when you feel the urge. The urge to bite into something. Your body feels warmer than usual. The next thing you knew you were biting your arm. Which is currently bleeding right now.

‘It hurts! It hurts but it's delicious!’ you think. Through your dizzy state. You didn't realize someone was knocking on your door. Alfred opens your door since you aren't answering.

It was dark. With the curtain closed. And you are not opening the light. He decided to open it. Once he did he saw how messy your room was. “[name] didn't I tell you to clean it up?” He looked around for you cause he clearly heard your voice. Before he could turn around something or someone pounced on him.

🦇🦇🦇

From : Flares Emily

🦇🦇🦇

How was it the ‘part 1’ do you all batfamily x neglected reader lovers want more? COMMENT THEN!! (not me forgetting how taglist work😞)

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qrrieterisunnq · 3 days ago

Text

Good Luck Kiss - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing, just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Jack swears he plays better when Amara kisses him before every game. Now that he’s injured, Amara kisses every Devil on the cheek for good luck. — WORD COUNT: 2,4K — AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey there, guys! Quick question: Would you be interested in a taglist for the AU's and fictions? If yes, please let me know!! Love you guys!<3 PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

No one believed when Jack said that you were his good luck charm. At first, Amara didn’t believe it either, but then she started to notice that it might be true.

Every time she kissed him, the devils won the game, but the days when she couldn’t attend the game and give him his kiss, they lost.

And later into it, the rest of the Devils noticed it too. And they made it their mission to not let Jack step on the ice before he got a kiss from her.

But now, with Jack being after surgery, they don’t know who their luck charm will be.

“Jack!” Jesper yells when he sees his friend entering the locker room. “Amara!” he yells even louder, happy to see their luck charm. Yeah, that is what they started to call her.

“Hey, Bratter.” Jack grins at him, wrapping his good arm around Amara’s shoulders.

“Hi Jesper,” Amara smiles back and snuggles deeper into Jack’s warm chest. “Hey, guys.” She waves back at the others as they stand by the entrance of the locker room.

“Came to look at us?” Nico asks, walking towards them and pulling Amara in for a hug. Amara melts in his embrace, closing her eyes for a brief moment just to enjoy the presence of her best friend.

“Yeah, decided to fly down to give you some moral help! You better win it, assholes!” he looks around the locker room, earning laughs from everyone.

“Plus, I wanted to give you your lucky kisses.” Amara smiles up at Nico and at Luke, who is the next one to pull her in for a hug, even though she lives with him.

“Oh, I’m gonna kiss the hell out of ya!” Dawson smirks at her, blowing her a kiss. The whole room explodes in laughter when they notice Jack’s face.

“I can’t wait!” Amara winks at him while she watches Jack’s surprised look from the corner of her eye.

“Are you serious, Berry?!” he asks in disbelief, while the entire locker room laughs at him.

“Course not, baby.” She grins up at him, walking back to him to snuggle in his chest.

Jack pulls her even closer, resting his hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and kisses her hair. “Good, 'cause you’re mine.”

“Oh, we know that, Jacky.” Pauly wiggles his brows at them.

“Anyway, we’re going upstairs to watch warm-ups, and then we’ll return so Amara can give you all your lucky kisses.” Amara looks around the locker room and enjoys the atmosphere there as Jack speaks, and they slowly make their way to the door. “But don’t think this will be happening next season. As soon as I’m on the ice, I am the only one she’ll be kissing.” He glares at the guys who are in there and walks out with Amara. But before they can exit the room, Amara turns and blows them a kiss.

“Don’t be jealous, Jacky,” Amara nudges his side as they make their way to the family section.

“M’not,” he grumbles, but tightens his grip on her hand. “Just don’t like sharing, s’all.”

“I love you,” Amara smiles up at him and brings their hands to her mouth, kissing his knuckles.

He looks down at her, his eyes softening at the sight of his girl. “I love you.” Bending down, he kisses her lips with a smile.

They both make their way to their seats, greeting the staff on their way there.

“Shit,” Amara whines when she searches for her crocheting kit.

“What?” Jack asks with cocked brow.

“I forgot my crocheting in the car. Can I borrow your keys?” she looks at him with doe eyes.

“Yeah, be careful, okay?” he pulls out the keys, handing them to her. With a peck to his cheek, Amara takes the keys and jogs down the stairs and out to the parking lot to get her crocheting.

“Best at the end.” Amara grins at Dawson, who is standing right in front of her. Jack, who is standing a few feet from them, just rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look away.

“Of course. Gimme my kiss, babe!” he says, blush creeping up on his cheeks. Giggling, Amara grabs his cheeks and gives him a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“No, go out there and win the game, handsome!”

“Will do, Ma’am!” he salutes and spins her around, landing her in front of Jack. “Here you go, Rowdy. Wasn’t that bad to share her with us, was it?”

“Good thing this is the last time she’s doing it!” Jack grunts as he wraps his hands around Amara’s front and brings her flush against his hard chest. He dips his head down, planting a few kisses on her hair.

“But what about the playoffs?” Luke’s brows shot up in well-played confusion, and with a pout on his lips.

“No-”

“The games you’ll play here, I’ll be standing at this spot waiting for you!” Amara grins at him and bumps his fist.

Cheers interrupt in the locker room, as Amara laughs at them and Jack frowns. He doesn’t like that his girl is kissing other men.

“Oh, come on, babe. You know I love you. They are like family to me.” She murmurs in his hand and brings it to her lips to kiss his knuckles.

“I love you, too, Berry.”

“Okay, fellas!” Coach Keefe shouts as he walks inside the locker room, stopping in his tracks as he sees Jack and Amara. “Jack, Amara, hello,” he smiles at them, shaking their hands as a greeting.

“Sir,” Amara smiles back at him, before hiding in Jack’s chest.

“Anyway! Time for you to hit the ice, fellas!”

With shouting and high-fives, the Devil’s leave their locker room and Amara with Jack make their way back to their seats to watch the game.

“So, what’s for dinner tonight?” Jack asks, caressing Amara’s thigh as she watches the game and crochets yet another summer dress.

“Ah, not sure.” She shrugs, looking at him for a second. “Was thinking about salmon and fries or chicken wraps,” she adds. “But maybe I’ll wait for Luke to tell me what he’d like to eat.”

“Oh, Luke will eat everything you cook,” he chuckles, but the smile fades away when one of the Rangers shoots on the net. But Jacob, being the best goalie, saves it, and the game continues. “So don’t worry about him. More like what you’d like to eat.”

“I don’t know, I’m not really hungry or in the mood to eat,” she sighs, her gaze not leaving the ice, as the Devil’s moves toward the Rangers’ net. Timo makes a shot on the net, but the Rangers’ goalie saves it, and the sound of the whistle rings through the arena.

“Did you eat today?” he asks with a sigh and stands up, ready to get them some food.

Amara looks at him with a guilty smile and shakes her head. It’s hard for her with her ADHD to remember to take care of herself, and Jack knows it.

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he says, shaking his head at her, leaving for the family room with food. He fills their plates with shrimps, vegetables, grilled potatoes, and mushrooms, smiling when he spots chicken nuggets.

Putting some on Amara’s plate, he leaves the room and returns to his seat. His eyes are glued on a guy, standing next to Amara, who doesn’t even care to hide how he’s checking her out.

His grip tightens around the plates as he reaches them and leans down to kiss the crown of Amara’s head.

“Got your food, baby,” he smiles at her, his eyes searching hers for something. He isn’t sure for what exactly, but for something.

“Thank you,” she mumbles back, reaching for his hand, interlocking their fingers. Amara then looks back at the guy, who is openly looking at her boobs. She clears her throat, earning his attention back.

Jack shrugs his jacket off, throwing it around her shoulder to shield her boobs from the guy's gaze.

“I guess you can go now,” Amara says, wrapping the jacket tightly around herself and looking back at Jack with a wide smile, taking the plate from him. “Oh, shrimps!” she exclaims happily, taking one in her mouth.

Jack smiles at her enthusiasm for shrimps, but his face tightens when he notices the guy still standing there.

“Need something else? Do you wanna sign something?” he asks, his brows knitted together in jealousy and confusion.

“Oh…ugh…no…sorry,” he stumbles over his words, jogging away.

“Who was it?” Jack asks, sitting back in his seat, taking a bite of the nugget.

“I have no idea. He just showed up, saying that my crocheting is cute.” She shrugged, her full attention now on her food and the game.

Jack just nods his head, relaxing in his seat and enjoying Amara’s presence and the game.

There are two remaining minutes of the last period, and every Devil’s fan is sitting on the edge of their seats. Devils lead by one, but Timo just got a two-minute penalty for slashing, and the Rangers look really happy about it.

They are now almost thirty seconds in the Devil’s defensive zone, attempting shot after shot on Jacob. But being the absolute king he is, he blocks every single one of them.

Jack grabs Amara’s hand when Trocheck skates towards the gate with a puck on his stick. Nico skates quickly to catch him, but it’s not helpful when he scores a goal a second later.

“Fuck,” Jack groans, falling back in his seat.

“They’ll win, don’t worry. They will score a goal in overtime. And if another kiss helps them, then I’ll be down there in a second.” Amara grins at him, bringing their interlocked hands to her mouth as she kisses the top of his hand.

“Yeah, let's go.” He stands up and lets Amara drag him down to the locker room. Coach is just giving the boys a speech when they get in, so when he’s done, Amara and Jack step in, grinning at them.

“Came to give you another good luck kiss.” She smiles shyly at them, watching carefully their reactions.

“Come here with them!” Luke yells, making grabby hands at Amara, causing giggles to slip from her mouth.

While Amara does her job of giving all of the Devils their lucky kiss, Jack talks with them and shares his ideas on how to play the next twenty minutes.

“Hey there, handsome,” Amara says in a flirtatious tone when she reaches Nico. Nico grins up at her as she stands between his legs. He places his hands on the back of her thighs, his eyes watching Jack.

It takes him a few seconds before he searches the room for Amara. But when Jack’s eyes land on Nico’s hands, which are lingering on the back of Amara’s thighs, he frowns.

“Is he looking?” she asks as giggles leave her mouth. She isn’t really sure why she wants to make him jealous; she’s just in the mood for jealous Jack and what will come as soon as they get home.

“Why are you even trying to make him jealous?” he asks, chuckling, when Jack's gaze doesn’t leave his hands.

“Probably want to rail him up,” she shrugs, turning her head to look at Jack with a sweet smile like nothing is happening. “You know, for tonight,” she wiggles her brows at Nico.

Nico makes a gagging sound, which makes her laugh even more.

“Okay, here’s your kiss,” she says, kissing his forehead. “You better win this, cap.”

“We will, Berry.”

“You done touching my girl?” A masculine arm wraps around Amara’s waist and pulls her away from Nico.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Hughes.” Nico grins at him.

“M’not jealous.” He denies.

“Okay, fellas! Let’s win this game!”

Cheering and the sound of a loud siren sound through the Prudential, as Dawson scores the winning goal.

Jack’s shouting in excitement, his not-injured hand curled around Amara’s shoulders, who is cheering with him.

“You really are our luck charm,” He shouts, bringing her in for a deep, passionate kiss. “Fuck I love you so much,” he groans in the kiss, but pulls away, not wanting people to stare at them. “But don’t think I don’t know what you were trying to do all night,” he frowns at her, causing giggles from her.

“I love you, too, Jacky,” she grins back at him, resting her head on Jack’s chest. “Let’s go to the locker rooms! I need to congratulate them!” she cheers, packing her crocheting, jumping up in place from happiness.

Jack doesn’t say anything, he just waits for Amara to pack her things before his hands sneak around her waist, so she doesn’t run from him too far, especially with thousands of people leaving the arena.

Moving his hand to her wrist, he interlocks their fingers and leads her to the locker room. When they arrive five minutes later, music blasts through the room, some of the boys are changing, a few of them are doing interviews, and the rest are just enjoying the atmosphere.

“Luck charm!!” Cody yells when he catches a glimpse of Amara’s long, dark hair at the entrance.

“Congratulations! I am so proud of all of you!” she shouts, hugging Cody tightly. Even though he’s been in Jersey for only a month, he took a spot in her heart.

“Thanks, Ara,” he murmurs, pulling away only for her to be pulled in a chain of hugs from the rest of the boys.

She congratulates every single one of them, praises them on how good they did, and just enjoys their presence.

“You coming to the bar?” Timo asks Jack as he comes out of the showers.

“Uhh,” Jack looks at Amara, who has a tired smile plastered on her lips. “I think we’ll head home. Amara looks tired, and my shoulder is starting to hurt a bit.” He explains, rubbing his shoulder in the process.

Timo nods his head, drying his hair with the towel.

“But you’ll come tomorrow for dinner, right?” Nico asks, pulling on his dress pants.

“Yeah, we will,” Jack turns around, noticing his girl standing behind him. “What am I supposed to bring?”

“Well, you don’t have to bring anything, but if you wouldn’t mind helping me with the food?” he asks with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” she grins.

“Now c’mere!” Nico and Timo pull her in a hug, giving her kisses on the cheeks.

“Thank you for the kisses.” Nico grins at her.

“Whenever you need one.” She wiggles her brows.

“You are such a tease.” Jack grunts, smacking Amara’s ass.

“But you love me.” She nudges him.

“Yeah, I do.”

“And I love you!” Luke shouts, throwing his hands around their shoulders. Grinning Jack looks over at Amara with so much love and pride. She just won them another game.

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ghoulishhx · 2 days ago

Note

Got more thoughts about the bbygurl Frank🎀! This is just self projecting as a fashion girly:

Reader will arrange her outfits the night before tomorrow (cause fashion sense is better at 7pm than 7am) and gets to play dress up and try out different combinations of clothes in front of the bedroom mirror. Upon being in a relationship with Frank he just gets to chill on the bed watching it all go down including glimpses of her in only underwear and tights from changing between outfits. God help him if she asks for his opinion cause he's just that one batman audio: "I am way too horny to talk to this woman."

Like bro is getting whiplash between the stunning outfits and her so confidently changing in front of him without any hesitation cause she's gonna find the perfect outfit!

oh yes absolutely yes. 100% agree on the 7pm better than 7am thing, before I go anywhere I have to plan my outfits at least 24hrs before LMAO.

we all know frank is just obsessed with his girl, so he knows date night is tomorrow and the moment he sees you go into your room the night before he follows like a lost puppy to get a front row seat to the show you're about to put on for him. this is a common occurrence in your home, frank always watching you pick outfits as if you were his favourite TV show, listening to you and marvelling in the way you look before him.

his eyes immediately bulge out of his skull as you shed your work clothes, flicking through your closet to find the item of clothing that's been on your mind all day. Frank lies back on the bed and enjoys the way you methodically look through each garment, humming to yourself as you let out a little 'aha!' as you find your favourite skimpy black dress. you slip it over your head and twirl to face him, eyes instantly drifting to the tent in his jeans as your eyebrows raise.

"ignore it doll, can't help it when ya look that good" he mumbles as he gestures you to come closer so he can feel the fabric on your body, smoothing it along your curves as it hugs you just right.

"what do you think frankie? this ok for our date?"

"like baby? shit i dunno how im gonna cope not tearin' it off in the restaurant." he groans as his hands splay across your chest "you look so fuckin' good sweetheart"

"thank you frankie" you playfully swat his hands away as you giggle, flush covering your face as you return to your closet. "hmmm I'm not sure though, lemme try.. yes this." you softly speak, picking up another dress, then another, and another as you sling all the fabric on franks body, using him as your own personal assistant. "you don't mind, right baby?" you hum

"don't mind at all doll, look forward to your fashion shows every time ya put one on f'me" he speaks, meaning every word as you shed yourself of the dress that took his breath away, twitching in his jeans. you have no idea about the effect you have on him, just simply removing your clothes as if no one was in the room, completely comfortable in his gaze.

after about an hour of trying on almost everything in your closet, you pick out a final three outfits: a white floral milkmaid dress, a tight black skirt with a white blouse and finally the first black dress you tried on. the whole time, franks eyes never leave your body, the way you so effortlessly change in front of him, being as comfortable in his presence as your own makes his heart swell with pride.

"okay frankie, which one was your favourite?" you ask, tilting your head to the side as he looks down at the three options before him on the bed.

"hmmm.. I dunno pretty girl," frank genuinely takes a moment to think about his answer, "you looked fuckin' gorgeous in everything.. but i think the first dress was my favourite." he holds up the infamous black dress and you take it from his hands, straddling him in only your underwear and a pair of black tights from your previous outfit change.

"okay baby, I'll wear this one for you. thank you for your help," your lips trail along his jawline, "lemme repay you for all your hard work, okay? give you a proper show." you grin as you capture his lips in a bruising kiss.

"please."

ugh there's something about frank in domesticity that fucking makes me explode. I love him he's so babygirl

#liv's thoughts ♡#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle x female reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher x female reader #frank castle drabble #frank castle imagine #the punisher imagine

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devotedfem · 3 days ago

Text

«Alice in wonderland»

Synopsis: You were so bored you could die, but then a white rabbit caught your attention, you chased it until you fell into a rabbit hole. The rabbit turned into a cute man with doe eyes, saying odd things like; you came back, late to Jimin's tea party, the mad hatter that was waiting for you.

Jikook x f. Reader

5.5K words.

Genre: Alice in wonderland au | yander-ish.

Tags: Inspired by Alice in wonderland, captivity, naive reader, polyamory relationship, obsessive behavior, dark Jimin and Jungkook, they are whipped for reader, bunny hybrid Jungkook, mad hatter Jimin, delusional Jikook, fantasy, re-telling, plot twist, smut, dubious consent.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

Permanent taglist.

You were sitting under a tree in the backyard of your aunt's country house, trying so, so hard to pay attention to her words, but failing when a butterfly flies near your aunt with its beautiful blue wings taking your attention away.

“Y/n, would you please pay attention to your lesson?” She sighed deeply, arching a brow and stopping reading aloud the history book.

You smiled at her sheepishly, feeling guilty for being caught not paying attention. It’s just that the book was painfully boring and long, you felt like aging while listening to tedious old stories.

“Sorry auntie, but how can you expect me to pay attention to a book with no pictures in it. The stories are so boring, at least there should be a picture!” You exclaimed feeling frustrated. It’s not like you didn’t want to pay attention to your lesson, it is just that it was hard for you to listen to something so boring.

Your aunt sighed again, shaking her head at your words as if she was dealing with a petulant child.

“Y/n, you’re a grown woman now, you can’t live in a fantasy world forever reading fairy tales. You have the privilege of having an education as a woman, don’t waste it.”

And her words cut deep enough to shut your mouth. She was right, you were now of age, in the perfect stage for marry. But your aunt was kind enough to help you to get an education first. She was ahead of her time and you admire her for that, so the last thing you want it’s to disappoint her.

“Sorry,” you muttered softly, hugging your knees towards your chest.

Guilt flashed your aunts’ eyes, but she kept reading to you the history book without another word.

You stayed quiet listening to her voice telling you stories about dumb and greedy wars, and gradually your eyes closed falling into a deep nap, resting against the tree drunk, unbothered to the world around you. You dreamed about a world that it was just yours, where everything works in the opposite way to the real one, ruled by nonsense and silly laws.

What it is, wouldn’t be there, and what it isn’t, would be there.

And then a thud noise snapped you abruptly out of your sleep. Your frowned and blinked confused at being awaken from a deep slumber, noticing that you were alone in the backyard, still resting against the tree.

And suddenly, a beautiful and fluffy white rabbit wearing a mini waistcoat, stands before you, holding a clock and looking straight at you. You couldn’t believe your eyes; you were completely shocked. Maybe… you were still dreaming…?

“I’m late! late! Late!” It speaks in distress, pointing and shaking its watch. He sounded like a male rabbit.

You gasped and widened your eyes taken aback. Animals don’t speak, that was absolutely impossible, but you have just witnessed the impossible in that moment. And when you pinched your arm to make sure you weren’t dreaming, the white rabbit fled away without giving you the opportunity to ask him questions.

You immediately ran after the rabbit, following him through the woods that were near your aunt’s house. The animal was annoyingly quick, but that didn’t stop you from trying to chase after him.

And then you watched how the fluffy animal entered a rabbit-hole, disappearing from your sight. You got curious, kneeling near the border of the hole, holding yourself by settling your hands on the edges to stare down into the deep void.

And then you slipped, falling right into it. You go down quickly, screaming when the opening of the rabbit-hole above you turned into a blue dot until it disappeared completely and became a pitch-black sky.

But then, suddenly, you were going down in a very unnatural slow way. You frowned, floating in the air and feeling light as a feather as you fell. In the dark tunnel appeared objects out of nowhere, things like books and jars filled the mud walls. You grabbed one book thrilled by curiosity, forgetting immediately your fear from seconds ago, widening your eyes impressed by al the impossible things happening around you. You gasped when a piano came from below, leaving aside the book to play the instrument, but you couldn't do much besides play a key because you kept falling down.

You dropped from the slow spell, falling abruptly onto an arm-chair full of leaves cushioning your fall. You shook the leaves out of your dress, watching your surroundings with uncertainty.

“Where on earth I am?” you muttered to yourself, staring at the odd hallway ahead of you.

For a moment you thought you died when you fell into the rabbit-hole, thinking that maybe this was a kind of limbo between life and death. But some fluffy animal pulled you out of your racing thoughts.

“Wait!” You screamed at the rabbit, but he ignored you, running away faster.

You ran after the rabbit, coming into a round hall with many doors. The animal was nowhere to be seen, you supposed that it might entered one of the many doors, so you tried to open them, but they were all locked.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” You asked in a loud tone, but the only thing that greet you was the echo of your own voice. Your chest sting with fear, you felt trapped.

But then you saw a table with a small key sitting on top of it. You picked it up with a grin, happy to be out of that strange hall. You tried the key on a few doors, but it didn’t open them, too small for their locks, but then you tried it on a mouse-size door, and it fit, opening the little door that shows a huge garden at the other side.

But how would you go through it if you’re too big to fit in? You wanted to cry from frustration, walking towards the table to throw the key on it. But now there was a bottle that says “DRINK ME” that appeared out of nowhere, you frowned watching your surroundings for anyone who put it there, but you were alone. You shrugged, drinking the liquid until the last drop, gasping with fear when you started to shrink to the size of a mouse, the table stood huge and large above you, and your dress was now too big for you to use, you tore a piece off to use it as a new dress.

Thankfully, the key dropped from the table when you knocked it while shrinking, falling to your side on the floor. You picked it up and used it to open the small door, stepping through it and being greet by a fantastical and whimsical world, everything looked so bizarre but so oddly beautiful, it was otherworldly, it was magical just as you imagined a fantasy world would look like.

The garden has tall flowers that loomed over you, speaking and talking between themselves, wearing human faces. They were gossiping about you as if you weren’t there listening to them.

“She’s so different,” said one red flower, looking down at you with contempt.

“She has grown up so well! Jimin and Jungkook will be happy to see her!” Said another one.

You frowned confused, what were they talking about?

“Excuse me, where am I? I’m looking for-“

“I don’t think she’s the real y/n, this girl must be another person,” said the red one, making you widen your eyes.

You asked them questions, but they ignored you.

Thankfully, in front of you appeared a pair of twins, they looked a little bit uncanny but human enough for you to trust them.

“Hi! I’m y/n, I’m looking for a white rabbit, have you seen it?” You asked them, and they looked to each other with a devilish grin, making your stomach churn.

“Is it really her?”

“Nope, ‘don’t think so, the real y/n wasn’t this dumb.”

“Hey,” you said crossing your arms, feeling uncomfortable by everyone here speaking about you in such way.

“Are you following a rabbit?” Asked the twin from the right, you nodded at him.

“Why?” Asked the other.

“Just because,” you replied, starting to walk away, but they followed you.

“You’re going backwards! That’s not the direction, here, forward is backward, and backward is forward, hello is goodbye, and goodbye is hello,” explained one of the twins, spinning your mind with confusion.

“Uhm, I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. I must be going. Goodbye, I mean, hello?” You said hesitating, but the twin nodded, waving a hand at you and staying behind with his brother.

“The rabbit’s name is Jungkook! He’s tall and has huge eyes!” One of the twins yelled at you from behind before you lost sight of them.

You walked for a long time, until your legs got tired. You were so confused of which direction you should take. In this world the right path took you to the left, and the left to the right. It was all so confusing.

And then you watch it, the rabbit from before now looked like a human man. And how did you know it was him? Because he was dressed just like the rabbit, and the tall man has cute doe and large eyes, walking in circles and watching his clock with worry. You ran towards him.

“Hi! I mean, goodbye! I was looking for you, you were the rabbit from the meadow of the upper world!” You greeted him with a smile, but he only frowned at you.

He was so handsome that it took your breath away for a second, but his knitted brows made you feel unease, maybe it was a mistake following a stranger down here.

“Goodbye? Who are you and what are you talking about?”

You grimaced with a blush, the twins were just teasing you, who in their right mind says goodbye when greeting someone? You felt dumb.

“I’m y/n, I followed you here from the upper world, when you were a… rabbit,” you muttered softly.

His doe eyes widened, and something intense and dark flashed on them, but it disappeared as fast as it came.

“Oh, I never thought you would come back. We’ve been, I mean, Jimin has been waiting for you. Come with me.” He didn’t even ask you before gripping your wrist to pull you away with him, almost dragging you. If you didn’t know better you would say that he holds you as if he was scare that you would run away, but why would you do that?

Also, he must be confusing you with another y/n just like the twins and the flowers did, because you never came to this place before.

Jungkook brought you to the backyard of an old and weird house, there it was a large table with a worn-out looking tea set on top of it, the tea party looks gloomy, the tablecloth seemed threadbare and the wooden chairs were almost rotten. A pretty man with a big red hat was sag in a chair at the head of the table, staring into space with a lost gaze.

Jungkook’s grip on your wrist tighten a little, making you frown.

“Jimin, she’s here, our, I mean, your y/n,” Jungkook announced between teeth, with his heavy and serious gaze fixated on Jimin.

The odd man named Jimin bolts upright immediately, standing up from the chair and walking towards you with large steps. You shrink a little into Jungkook, feeling intimidated by the intense and crazed eyes of the man approaching you. He stood inches in front of you, invading your personal space and staring intently at you with a bright smile, so different from his gloomy mood from seconds ago.

“Is… is it really you, y/n? Did you really come back to us?” He gushed with a shaky voice, looking stunned by your mere presence, as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Yes, I’m y/n, although I don’t remember coming here before,” you muttered, averting Jimin intense eyes.

He gripped your chin to make you look up at him. Adoration flashed his dark eyes.

“It’s okay my moon, we can make you remember,” he said with a devilish grin. He grabbed your other hand to pull you away from Jungkook, but the latter didn’t let you go, looking at Jimin with a stern and warning gaze instead.

“Calm down Jimin, don’t scare her away. She just arrived here,”

Jimin clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on your had, but that creepy expression goes away immediately, being replaced by a bright and teasing smile.

“Oh come on Jungkookie, don’t be a party pooper. I just want to catch her up on all the things she missed when she was away. Do you want to join my tea party?” He asked you softly, looking a little vulnerable this time, as if he was afraid of your rejection. You felt sorry for him, so you nodded and let him drag you away from Jungkook.

Jimin sat again at the head of the table, and you were about to sit on a chair next to him but he didn’t let you, gripping your wrist to pull you towards him and sit you on his lap instead. You shriek taken aback by his blatant and shameless gesture, who does he think he is to sit you on his lap? He’s just a stranger you just met!

“Hey!” You yelp, trying to stand up but Jimin’s tight grip on your waist didn’t let you.

“Jimin!” Jungkook’s strident yell made you flinch, even though his anger wasn’t directed at you. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked this time more calmly, taking notice of your frightened state. But Jimin pay him no mind, looking at your dress with curiosity instead.

“She used to sit on my lap all the time, we’re just catching up, I have no ill intention,” he replied nonchalant, playing with the fabric of your improvised dress.

You frowned and parted your lips offended, you don’t remember doing such thing with him, and even if that was true, he should’ve asked you first.

“Excuse me? I don’t remember doing such improper thing with anyone, you’re so rude and shameless-“ you were interrupted by his giggle.

“I don’t remember you being this decorous, aren’t you so cute and silly?” he beamed at you, and you were distracted by his sweet and bright smile for a second, it made his eyes turn into crescent moons. But you shook those thoughts away.

“And I don’t remember you at all, so could you please let go of me?” You said between teeth.

Jimin’s smile fell, and irritation flashed his gaze.

“Wouldn’t you like to remember though? To know the wonders of this world? If so, then stay still,” he whispered the last words into your ear like a warn. You gulped with fear, glancing at Jungkook with dread sinking in your stomach, but the latter said nothing, crossing his arms and looking at Jimin with murderous eyes.

“If you don’t leave her alone right now Jimin, I swear to god I’ll have you choking on your cold tea,” he threatened with dark eyes fixated on him. You flinched again; you didn’t like the tension growing between them.

But Jimin looked collected, not affected at all by the threat.

“Oh really? Are you willing to lose her again? To bring back our grief and mourning?” Those words were enough to disarm Jungkook, whose eyes flashed with deep hurt, he inhaled sharp as if Jimin’s words were a weapon aimed at his hurt.

You watched with shock how Jungkook sat right next to you two, saying nothing and averting your eyes, drinking the tea he was going to use to drown Jimin a moment ago. You wanted to laugh bitterly to his face, did he really give up by just words?

Your mind was racing with thousands of questions. What did Jimin mean by all that? Why do they think that they already know you when that was not true? You’ve never been here, and never met them before. And what does Jimin mean by grief and mourning? If it was true that you knew them and you were having amnesia, then it doesn’t make sense to use the word mourn, because you never died.

Nothing makes sense, and you felt like having a headache.

“Hey hey, none of that my moon. It’s time for the tea party not to overthink,” he said softly, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, “also, where did you get this dress? It’s so unique, I like it.” Your cheeks heated by his compliment, feeling self-conscious of your clothes.

“I made it myself with what was left of my dress,” you muttered without giving further explanations, drained by all that was happening.

Jimin hummed, playing with the fabric again, he almost looked mesmerized by your dress.

“It’s just like you, rare but pretty.”

You cleared your throat, uncomfortable by his words. You squirm a little on his lap, stopping at Jimin’s sharp intake of breath.

“Careful there, my moon,” he whispered near your neck, with his hot breath brushing your skin and making you shiver. His hands gripped tightly your waist to stop you from moving, you didn’t understand at all what you did wrong, but Jimin sounded affected so you stayed still.

You look up and notice Jealousy flashing Jungkook’s eyes, his shoulders looked tense and the grip on his tea cup seemed tight. Why does he look so angry all the time? Jimin also notices, giggling at the latter.

“Don’t be like that bunny boy, she’s also yours.”

You widened your eyes, gasping at his audacity.

“I am my own person!”

“Of course my moon, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Jimin said gently, looking at you with puppy eyes, calming you down a bit.

You crossed your arms, looking straight ahead, ignoring them like a petulant child.

Jimin started to telling you about all the things you missed out from wonderland, like how he planned to take down the reign of the evil queen of hearts just because she hurt you once, and how he learned to customize new hats. All while Jungkook refill your cup of tea, giving you sweet treats from the table. The tea didn’t taste bad, the sunlight was warm, and Jimin’s voice was surprisingly soft enough to make you feel comfortable on his lap. Jungkook’s pretty eyes never stayed away from you, studying your expressions as if he wanted to make sure you feel comfortable all the time.

It was nice, it made you forget for a moment that you needed to head back home.

“Uhm, Jimin I need to come back home, but I promise to visit you again, I want to hear more about this world,” you said gently, and you weren’t lying, you wanted to come back but you knew deep down that you shouldn’t, because this man even though is charismatic, is also mad.

A mad hatter.

Jimin’s grip on your waist tightened until it bruised, making you wheeze in pain. Jungkook’s eyes widened with genuine fear at your words.

“No.” Jungkook’s trembling voice took you by surprise, you frowned at him, and he looked embarrassed, clearing his throat and averting your gaze. “I mean, it’s too late, we’re worry that you get hurt again. And I know you don’t remember, but believe me when I say that is for your own good, wonderland it’s dangerous at night.”

His words were enough to make you shrink into Jimin’s chest, who happily kept you into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“He’s right my moon. Jungkookie can walk you tomorrow to the hall that leads to the rabbit hole. We just want you to be safe,” he whispered gently into your ear, his words were sugar coated, sweet enough to convince you.

“Fine,” you sighed, only because you genuinely don’t know your way back to the rabbit hole. And no matter how much you wanted to run away, they were the only people you can “trust” for now.

You sleep that night in Jimin’s and Jungkook’s house, their place was a cozy cottage, full of tea cups and carrots hidden under the rut. Talking animals such as hares surrounded their home, watching you with their little heads tilted, you noticed the curiosity in their eyes.

They took you to a room at the back of the house, which according to them it was already yours before you disappeared from wonderland. You started to doubt yourself, believing that maybe you were here before and you just forgot about this world. But you knew that wasn’t true, because the clothes in the closet didn’t belong to you, they just weren’t something you would wear. The stuff, the books, the things in this room; none of it belonged to you.

And you were now more than sure that you weren’t the person they thought you were. If that makes sense.

The issue was, that you didn’t stay just for a night, you stayed there with them for a week. At morning they always offered you to see a part of wonderland, distracting you from going to the rabbit hole. One day they brought you to a huge caterpillar that looks wise and that throwed smoke to your face, watching you with surprise, saying stuff like; is it really you?

You wanted to say no so bad, but you didn’t want to make Jimin and Jungkook feel bad. You got used to them, to Jimin’s silly behavior and Jungkook’s protective gaze. You started to have fun every time Jimin customize you a new dress, with his brows knitted in concentration when he was sewing your clothes.

He made you a pretty dress one afternoon, this one was blue and it reached below your knees, what caught your attention was the white apron, which according to Jimin made the dress look even prettier.

You noticed Jungkook’s gaze darkening when you wore the dress, and you felt uncomfortable under their intense stares. Why were they looking at you like that? But you forgot about that when Jimin took you to another tea party, this time with new and funny people that made you laugh a lot.

You were under a spell of wonders and fun, not worrying about coming back to your home. Until one night.

You watched a strange cat emerging from thin air at your window, making you gasp and widen your eyes in shock. Who was that cat? You opened the window, watching how the animal was floating and twirling in the air, with a mischievous Cheshire grin curling on its mouth.

“Aren’t you a surprise? I didn’t know the dead could come back,” it teased with a devil glint in its eyes.

Your stomach churned with dread and your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t like its words.

“What?” You whispered with a trembling voice.

The cat’s grin widened.

“I can see that you’re not y/n, at least not Jungkook’s and Jimin’s. You’re her impersonator, you look like her, you’re named like her, but you’re not her,” he spoke the last words darkly, its grin looking sinister now.

You gulped your fear down, feeling like all of your doubts and fears had come true.

“What- what happened to her? How did she die?” You clenched your fists, fighting with the urge to run away.

“They killed her, not directly, but with their obsession. They scared her away, making her stumble upon the red Queen who cut off her head.”

Your heart stopped at the cat’s words, your head spined and you felt dizzy with the sudden urge to throw up. You always knew they acted weird around you, but you didn’t know the reason behind of their odd behavior, you didn’t know how deep their obsession run.

You have to get out of that house, right now.

You didn’t glance back at the cat, opening softly the door of your room, watching your surrounds with your senses heightened. When you were sure that no one was around and that the boys were sleeping, you step out of the room, with your feet bringing you silently to the front door of the cottage. Your heart was pounding and your hands trembling when you tried to turn the knob door, but it didn’t bulge.

The door was locked.

You inhaled sharp, closing your eyes to calm yourself down. You need to find the key.

“Going somewhere?” Jungkook’s deep voice make you shriek in horror; you turned around with a hand over your chest.

“You scared me,” you said instead, trying so hard to not avert your scared eyes.

Act normal.

Jungkook arched a brow, humming and walking towards you with slow steps, watching you intently.

“Where were you going at this hour? We already told that it’s dangerous out there at night.”

“I just wanted some fresh air, I wasn’t going far from here,” you simply said, trying to act nonchalant, hiding your trembling hand behind your back. Jungkook noticed.

“Fresh air?” He asked lowly, clenching his jaw and standing inches away from your body, looking down at you with anger flashing his doe eyes. “You wanted to escape, don’t lie to me.” His voice trembled with rage, and his eyes looked crazed, scaring you.

“I- no, that’s not true! I was hoping for you to take me to the hall the day after tomorrow anyway, I don’t miss home, I am always bored back there,” you muttered, trying to calm your pounding heart.

Jungkook gripped your shoulders, something dark and terrifying flashed his eyes. His breath was getting labored, and you could hear his own heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“I promise not to be like Jimin, I told myself that I will mourn you- her - ‘till the day I die. I prayed to God to bring y/n back from the dead. But then, you didn’t come back as the same person, you… you wear her face, her voice and you share the same name, but you’re not her, aren’t you?” His voice broke at the last words, staring at you with despair and grief. His bottom lip wobbled and his doe eyes swelled with tears.

You felt bad for him, so, so bad.

“I’m so sorry for your lost Jungkookie, I- I really am, but I’m not her honey. You should honor her memory by letting me go, by letting her rest,” you whispered softly, putting your hands over his and stroking them gently, looking up into his eyes with empathy. You grew fond of him over the past days, so you felt really sorry for him.

Tears streamed from his eyes at your words, and you wiped them away with your thumb, making Jungkook close his eyes and rest his cheek on your palm, opening them to watch you with deep emotion.

“You’re right, I should take you to the hall before Jimin notice, because he will lose his mind, more than he has,” he said letting go of you, opening the door and waiting for you to get out.

You smiled at him grateful, feeling relieved that at least Jungkook was being rational about this situation. The real danger was Jimin, not him.

It was silent when you two were walking, and Jungkook filled the quiet with his voice.

“I really miss her.”

You curled down your lips, feeling bad for him again.

“Can I, can I ask you how long has it been since she… passed away? If you don’t want to that’s okay,” you said carefully.

He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, and you thought that he wouldn’t answer you, but he did.

“20 years.”

You stopped walking, widening your eyes.

“What?”

“Time in wonderland works different from the upper world,” he simply said, not stopping his walk. You followed him behind.

The time passed and you still didn’t see the door that leads to the hall, the one that was close to the speaking flowers.

“Are we close?” You asked, hugging yourself at the cold.

Jungkook only hummed at your words, staring into space with a lost gaze.

“Did you know that the other y/n was in wonderland just for two days?” He said out of the blue, you shook your head but he didn’t look at you. “But it was enough to fall for her. I thought I’d forget her face and voice, until you came, all pretty and bubbly. You remind me of her, but you’re different, and you stayed longer too. You’re sweet and innocent, keeping us company and never leaving our side even though we didn’t give you space, I love that about you.” His eyes were blank and empty, and his voice was thick with emotion, making you frown with unease.

“What are you talking about? And how long it’ll take us to get to the hall? I don’t remember it being this far,” you said walking slower, studying Jungkook like a hawk.

He just shrugged.

“What I’m saying is that we fell for you too, you think that this is just our grief talking for us, but is not. You were here longer than her, you were- are - tender and sweeter than her. Jimin is already obsessed with you. We never had company that stayed with us so long, except you.”

He turned around sharply, making you stumble into his wide chest. His gaze was dark and fixated on you like a predator, making you shiver with primal fear.

“Jungkook, you don’t know what you’re saying, I’m not her!”

“I know! That’s why we want you, we won’t let you go after what happened to her, we want you as much and more than we ever wanted her!” He yelled with his crazed eyes and his vein popping on his neck.

He was losing his mind.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered with a trembling voice.

He smirked.

“So are you, we all crazy here,” he sneers, holding and trapping your body against his chest before you could run away.

You squirm in his grasp, screaming, biting his shoulder, crying for help and kicking your legs, but it was pointless. His iron grip on your body didn’t ease at all, standing tall and strong as a rock holding you against his chest with his buff arms, constricting you like a piton snake. You cried so much you ended up hoarse, at some point you felt Jungkook’s hand stroking softly your hair but you ignored him, distracted by the sound of steps behind you.

Your stomach turned with fear and dread by the voice of Jimin.

“Good job Jungkookie, I knew you wouldn’t do the same mistake with this y/n. Let’s bring her back to our home, shall we?” Jimin’s voice sounded too calm and relaxed for your liking, turning your blood ice with primal fear. The flight and fight instincts pounding through your veins.

Jimin was the calm before the storm.

They dragged you to the cottage, forcing you into a chair and tying your wrists and ankles with a thick rope. You look up at them with hatred, feeling hurt and betrayed by Jungkook. The latter averted your eyes, standing behind Jimin.

Jimin dragged another chair across the floor to straddle it, facing you and resting his arms on the backrest without taking his piercing gaze away from you, pinning you under his stare like a predator ready to pounce. You squirm feeling intimidated by his dark eyes boring into you.

“I think we should punish her by keeping her tied up for many, many days. All pretty and bound for us to play as we please, what do you think Jungkookie? Should we?” He asked Jungkook while looking straight into your eyes.

“You can do whatever you want but don’t hurt her,” muttered the traitor.

Jimin smiled like the Cheshire cat.

“Then let’s teach our girl some manners, running away like that from your host is so rude. You’ll learn how to treat us right, how to love us as we love you.” Jimin’s voice was thick with dark emotion, leaning forward to look at you with crazed and angry eyes. His knuckles turned white by how hard he was gripping the backrest of the chair. “Untie her and bring her to our room Jungkookie.” Were his words before Jungkook did as he said, lifting you to carry you to their room as if you weight nothing.

In your way to Jimin and Jungkook room, you watched the Cheshire cat floating outside the window, smirking at you and mouthing the words; I told you.

You were so fucked up, trapped in this world with two delusional men.

But there will be always another day and another chance to escape, you just hope you don’t end up like the other y/n, but maybe that fate is better than to end trapped under their house, for the eternity.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @deluluisdasolulu @uniquecutie-puffs @Marrylouise @livingformintyoongi @captainhoook @asillysimp @devilzliaison @zephyrdawn @kvstjwonnie @yoongilovescats @bammbi-jeon127 @jerdafuck @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty @catlove83 @itlover8000 @shailari

#bangtan fanfic #bts x reader #yandere bts #bts imagines #bangtan fic #bts x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin bts #bts fanfic

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glitchy1938 · 2 days ago

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Hi! I don't know if spontaneous posts are still open, but I was wondering if you could create one about Shadow Milk Cookie. The corrupted man attacks villages, but in one of them, he tries to infiltrate as his female version. However, she falls in love with a man named Y/N, forgetting to attack them for a while. Then, she has a son and realizes she's happy that way. For a few moments, his corruption triumphs, and he attacks the village in his original form, accidentally killing her husband and son. He was imprisoned, but after being freed from the tree, he reunites with his husband, Y/N, but she is a woman, as is their son. They are both reincarnated. I would like Gingerbrave to be the reincarnation of her son and T/N to be the reincarnation of her husband, but now she is a woman. Gingerbrave was cared for by Y/N and considers her a mother. Y/N considers him her son, even though they are nothing alike. Please!

I'm So Sorry My Love..... I Never Wanted This....

[Shadow Milk Cookie x reincarnated Reader]

Warning : sad, blood Jam, death

He never thought he would be falling in love at first, all of this was suppose to see if the village was worthy to see and leave it like it is or destroy. He decided to use his identity by disguise himself as a "lost woman who doesn't have any home", he then meet you. You were a simple cookie who worked in a baker shop not too far from your home, you were just pick some Berry for your pie then you meet her gaze. He then act to take advantage of you and see if you'll fall for him in this form, but to his supriced, you just told him that he can come with you and live as long as he want with a kind smile.

When you two arrived in your home you give her some hot cocoa, Shadow milk tried again to butter you up as she take the cup, "This is such a lovely cabin you have~, what was a generous cookie like you doing all alone~ ?" She's taken back when you told her that you enjoy solitude here, it bring you peace and a sense of calmness , your world unaffected by Shadow milk's attempt at charming you. She find it intriguing from you, so she decided to stay here a little longer.... Nothing special....

As time passes you two became inseparable, she enjoy your company much more the just a mire intriguing thing.... She then realised that she fell in love with you... You were the first to confess your feeling to her, as she accepted with no lies... No acting... Just.... Pure love.... You two got married and one day, you had a little boy to complete the picture.... He was hiper active, kind, and Brave... Shadow Milk never thought he would've been this happy before, having a family..! He felt... Peace... After so long.... But alas.. Happiness never last long for villains...

He doesn't know exactly what happened, but there was only fire, destroyed houses, jam, and crumbled cookies.... He was still in his disguise as he called you and your son praying for you two to be alive, but it was useless.... He found you both dead.... Your son was next to you as you were hugging.... You probably attempted to protect him but that cause you both the end of your life.... He couldn't believe it.... no... Not you...!! He... He can't live without you !!... He cried... Uncontrollably as he held you and his boy's body.... Why ?...

After the witches sealed him him and the others, he couldn't think anything else but you two... Was this that called a "Breaking Heart" ?... He hated this feeling... The Witches can do whatever they want to him... He just want you two back... !! Centuries passed, and when he got free, he start with his minions to cause deceice to cookies for fun until he meet Gingerbrave, from the distance, he can't help but fell like the young cookie remind him of his son... The same energy, passion, bravery... He doesn't want to be fool and think one second that it was him but... Reincarnated.... But then there is you.... You weren't a boy, no. You're... A woman... But... You still the same... Same kindness, sound, manners... But also, you were like a mother to Gingerbrave...

Always caring to him and his friends, he even called you "mom"... He doesn't know if it's fate or not... But he doesn't want you near him or even Gingerbrave and his friends... He doesn't want to make the same mistake he did back there and unable to save you both...

#cookie run x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #gingerbrave cookie #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk x you #shadow milk x y/n #crk x mother reader #crk x y/n

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millerskitty · 3 days ago

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Running If You Call My Name

❥ dbf!joel / f!reader x joel miller

❥ (18+) nsfw

❥ reader insert

❥ medium burn, no outbreak au. some timelines are changed to fit the story.

dividers by @/saradika !

summary: you are a twenty five year old woman who lives with your father in austin, tx. you’ve been good friends with the millers for years, but in the past few months you’ve begun to see joel in a new light and it’s disrupting your life.

warnings: brief mention of parent loss, grief, loneliness and sexual harassment (by an inconsequential coworker) (pls let me know if i forgot anything — this is my first fic)

Chapter 1

That summer had been a scorcher. It was routine to shimmy out of your business casual and throw on a tank top and shorts each day after work. You let your hair down from its clip and let it fall naturally.

It was Friday evening and your father was out grilling in the back. Corn on the cob, fajitas and sausage were on the grill, making the air smokey and delicious. You knew there would be a big bowl of potato salad in the fridge and deviled eggs on the shelf above it. You stepped out of the glass sliding door to join the chef.

“How was work, doll?” Your father asked, sliding up his sunglasses to greet you.

You approached him for a big bear hug. He was damp with sweat from the hard work of grilling in the heat. “Hey Pop. Work was work.” You said, going over to a pool chair and reclining it so you could get some sun. “Are the Millers coming over?

“‘Course, Joel’s taking Sarah to pick out some gear for her softball camp. She leaves tomorrow.”

“Oh cool, and how was your day off?” You lathered some sun screen on your arms, chest, and stomach. The smell of chlorine coming off the pool was met with the barbecue smell. It was a nostalgic combination, reminding you of the two and a half decade’s worth of memories made in your backyard.

“All good, changed the oil on the truck, decided to grill for Sarah’s last day at home.”

The Millers usually came over when Pop was grilling. You wished you’d made a cake for Sarah’s last night in town.

“I made her some of that pink salad she loves.” He seemed to read your mind.

You lied back, closing your eyes and clearing your thoughts for half an hour. Your peace was interrupted by the sound of cicadas buzzing louder to compete with the sound of a truck pulling into your driveway. Joel and Sarah must have come straight over from shopping instead of walking down the street to your home from theirs. There was a flutter in your stomach when you’d heard Pop answer the front door and greet them, Joel’s booming voice asking where you were.

It was only a few moments before you’d heard the glass sliding door open and Sarah popped over to you.

“Hey Bug.” You said, looking up at her with a smile.

“Oh we’re sunbathing, huh? Let me get changed, be right back.” She said, turning on her heel with her backpack over her shoulder.

You loved that girl to death, she’d been in your life for the past decade. Ever since she and Joel had moved down the street, they’d become a part of your life. Joel and Pop hit it off when Joel had noticed Pop trying to fix a gutter on his own.

Pop was cursing up a storm when he’d failed to secure the gutter and it all toppled down. Joel had been outside sitting on the tailgate of his pickup truck that evening when he’d seen Pop and jogged over to help. It had taken him a fraction of the time to get it right. Pop was impressed and slightly embarrassed, but he thanked Joel with a cold beer and the rest was history.

Life had become less lonely with the Millers around. Before they’d moved down the street it was mostly just you and Pop. Your mother passed away when you were just a toddler. She was sick and it almost killed Pop when he couldn’t do anything to save her. After a few years overshadowed by grief he’d turned his life around and became everything you needed from a mother and a father.

You were fifteen when you’d started to babysit six year old Sarah for Joel. Now ten years later, at twenty-five and sixteen you were very much bonded. You’d been there for Sarah when she’d come out as a lesbian. It took Joel by surprise, but he embraced his daughter and her choices.

You felt a pang of guilt as she took her spot beside you by the pool. Your friend would probably get the ick if you’d mentioned that you maybe, sort of, kind of had a crush on Joel. Your fathers sat beside the grill, just out of earshot, nursing two cold beers and chatting. You had to fight the urge to look back at Joel. The opportunity to get up and cross paths with him would come when the food was ready.

The truth was you’d inadvertently developed a crush on Joel Miller. It felt sort of twisted, he was twelve years your senior, almost forty years old. Not exactly old enough to be your father, but still a noticeable age gap nonetheless.

You’d asked him for guitar lessons last Winter and he obliged. He took you to a music store and you picked out an acoustic guitar. He was excited to pass down the skill to at least one other person. Sarah was never interested, what she really cared about was competing in sports. You’d gone over to their home on weekends and practiced, Joel moved your fingers patiently back to their position when you’d messed up. His large, callused hands landed and held the strings down with ease. He’d tried to make you commit to developing your own calluses to improve your skill.

By the end of Winter you’d learned how to play a handful of songs, mostly dad rock that Joel loved and knew by heart. He would smile so bright when you’d finally get it right. You did everything in your power to get him to flash his teeth and celebrate your little victories.

“That’s it, Darlin, those fingers ain't just for clickin’ and clackin’ on a keyboard now.” He’d chuckled.

You had been drunk on his praise and your shared laughter one evening when you leapt up from your seat and onto Joel's lap, throwing your arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist and you pulled your head back, coming face to face with him. His breath was warm on your lips and you swore there was something in his eyes. It flashed and faded as quickly as it had appeared.

You both dropped the embrace and Joel cleared his throat, helping you pack up for the night. Tears of embarrassment stung your eyes as you silently gathered your things and went home without another word.

You knew in that moment that you were well and truly fucked. As it would happen, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel from that moment on. You tried to temper your feelings. You mostly doubted that he’d felt what you felt in that moment. The spark, the fear and the desire to cross the line. But the gleam in his eye, the way he almost leaned forward then hesitated replayed in your mind.

You’d stopped responding to the guys you were matched with on dating apps. You’d lost interest in anyone other than Joel. You’d imagined all the ways that evening could have gone. He could have become upset that you’d crossed his boundaries, but he didn’t. He could have closed the gap between you and pressed his lips to yours, but he didn’t. And you hadn’t spoken of that incident since it happened, two seasons ago.

“Can you two go in and grab the potato salad and eggs from the fridge?” Pop had asked you and Joel, tearing you away from your thoughts.

“Yeah, no problem.” Joel said, opening the sliding door and motioning for you to head in first.

Your skin prickled when you sensed his eyes skating over your body from behind as you opened the fridge.

“Pop made pink salad for Sarah,” you said, grabbing the bowl of potato salad and turning to face Joel.

“She’s gonna go nuts.” He said grinning, “How’ve you been, kid?”

“Not a kid, Joel.” You huffed. “I’m a quarter of a century old.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He took the deviled eggs from the shelf in the fridge and followed you out to the back.

After the barbecue, Pop had made a run to the gas station for more beer and Joel made his way to the kitchen to help you clean up while Sarah took a dip in the pool.

“How’s Angel treating you?” Joel asked, drying off the wet dishes from the rack.

“She’s good, but I’ve been neglecting her a bit lately.” You said, speaking of your six string acoustic guitar. An image of that moment in Joel’s garage flashed through your mind and you blushed.

“That’s a shame, what’s been keeping you too busy to play?” He knew where your dishes belonged, putting them away in the cabinets and drawers as he spoke.

“Work, mostly. This guy at the office has been bugging me to go out on a date with him, it’s borderline sexual harassment.” You huffed, wiping down the inside of the sink.

“Well that’s just not right. You should tell the boss.” Joel said, his voice stern.

“He’s the boss’s nephew.” You turned and saw Joel’s jaw clenched. Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t meant to strike a nerve.

“Shouldn’t matter, he's a punk. What’s his name?”

“Easy, cowboy.” You said, stepping closer to him. “Nothing’s gonna happen, he’s just overly confident.”

“Tell him your friend Joel wants to talk.” This time he was grinning, drying off a glass bowl. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the tanned skin on his muscular arms.

You were staring until you heard the screen door pop open, then the front door creaked open as Pop appeared just in time for you and Joel to put some space between the two of you. You finished wiping down the counter and Joel rejoined your dad in the backyard.

You poked your head out the door and called out, “Pop don’t forget we’re going to go get my car fixed in the morning.”

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry I forgot. I have a work thing in Odessa, I'm gonna be out all weekend.” He said sympathetically. “You’re a big girl, you can go by yourself.”

“I’m not afraid of going alone, silly. I’m afraid that they’re gonna overcharge me cause’ I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“I’ll take her, I won’t let that happen.” Joel said, pressing a bottle of Budweiser to his lips.

“See, no one would dare bullshit our Joel, here.” Pop grinned. He was giddy and buzzed.

“Alright, nine-thirty sound good to you?” You asked, trying not to sound excited.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up.”

Chapter 2

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel x you #the last of us #tlou2 #pedro pascal #slow burn #medium burn #long fic #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x original character #tlou spoilers #tlou fanfiction #reader is afab

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theonlyonesora · 21 hours ago

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The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Chapter 3 – Unexpected Pit Stop

We were two cocktails into pretending we were rich and unbothered when the surprise happened.

Lily and I had taken a spontaneous trip to the coast, a little weekend escape that screamed “we’re young, hot, and completely avoiding our responsibilities.” Our rented Airbnb overlooked the ocean, the fridge was full of rosé and overpriced cheese, and we had exactly zero plans beyond tanning, laughing, and possibly texting the bartender.

I was lying on a sun chair in a bikini I’d convinced myself wasn’t too much (it was), and Lily was scrolling through Instagram in her oversized sunglasses, feet propped on the railing. The air smelled like sunscreen and bad decisions. Paradise.

Until a car pulled into the driveway.

Lily barely looked up. “Did you order anything?”

“Nope. Unless God is finally answering my thirst prayers.”

Then the doorbell rang.

We looked at each other. I raised a brow. She shrugged. And then—

“Maybe it’s the Airbnb owner?” Lily said, grabbing a hoodie off the chair.

I opened the door.

And promptly froze.

Oscar Piastri. In a hoodie, joggers, a duffle slung over his shoulder, and the kind of boyish grin that made people underestimate how sharp he actually was. The kind of grin that made girls fall in love on sight—and probably some boys too.

“Hey,” he said, as casual as if we’d just bumped into each other at the grocery store and not, you know, met for the first time in real life ever.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

Lily’s voice came from behind me, shocked and rising. “Oscar?!”

He beamed. “Surprise.”

She all but tackled him. Her arms flew around his neck, legs lifting in that absurd movie-style hug while I stepped back, still mildly shell-shocked.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“That’s why it’s called a surprise.” He looked at me over her shoulder, offering a warm, amused smile. “Hi, (Y/N). Finally.”

I smiled back, heart thudding weirdly. “Finally.”

Lily pulled him in by the wrist and sat him on the couch like he was a museum exhibit we’d just acquired.

“Wait, how are you here?” she asked.

“Team gave us a few days off unexpectedly. I remembered you saying you two were on a mini getaway… figured I’d crash it.”

“You figured right,” I murmured, already handing him a glass of rosé.

He clinked it against mine, and that grin returned. “Is this the part where you tell me more about the infamous night in your room?”

Lily groaned into her hands. “Don’t. Encourage. Her.”

“Oh no,” I said sweetly, “he’s in this now.”

And he was. Fully. Completely. Here, with us.

The three of us.

And somehow, the air was suddenly warmer. Charged. The kind of tension that wasn’t awkward—but anticipatory. Like the universe was watching… curious.

Dinner was meant to be easy. Lily lit candles like we were on The Bachelor, I threw pasta in boiling water like I was Gordon Ramsay drunk, and Oscar… well, Oscar stood in the kitchen being utterly useless but looking good doing it.

“Do you know how to cook anything that isn’t toast?” I teased, handing him a wooden spoon.

“Rude,” he said, poking the sauce like it might fight back. “I make a killer toastie. And I’m here for moral support.”

“He’s the emotional support boyfriend,” Lily said, walking past with a wine glass and an amused little shake of her head.

I leaned closer to him, stage whispering, “She just likes bossing people around.”

“She’s lucky I love her,” he replied smoothly, glancing sideways at her.

And then, something small—but loud—happened. His eyes shifted from Lily… to me.

Held there. Just long enough.

Not inappropriate. Not obvious. But aware.

Dinner turned lazy and golden. We dragged cushions onto the floor of the living room, opened another bottle of wine, and ate too much garlic bread. Lily played music on her phone—something low and sultry and indie—and Oscar told us stories from the paddock: teammates who were divas, drivers who were secretly soft-hearted, chaotic race weekends and inside jokes with mechanics.

“And you still want to date someone who lives on a plane?” I asked, elbowing Lily.

“She’s not dating him,” Oscar said, teasing. “She’s managing him.”

“I keep his life together,” Lily agreed with mock pride, “and (Y/N) keeps me together.”

Oscar turned his head toward me. “Then I guess I owe you a thank-you.”

I sipped my wine. “Yeah, you do. I’m basically the emotional support of the emotional support.”

Lily laughed, eyes gleaming. “Honestly? True.”

And then it got a little quiet.

One of those soft, glowing silences where everything felt safe but not entirely.

Oscar was lying back on the floor now, propped up on his elbows, and Lily was sitting cross-legged beside him, fingers idly tracing circles on the rim of her wine glass. I was leaned against the couch, stretched out with bare legs and an oversized shirt that definitely rode up more than necessary when I shifted.

“Okay,” I said, suddenly reckless with the wine. “Let’s play a game.”

Lily perked up. “Oh God.”

Oscar raised a brow. “What kind of game?”

“Nothing too scandalous,” I promised, then smirked. “Unless you’re scared.”

Oscar smirked back. “Not a lot scares me.”

We played the classic: Truth or Dare. Light at first. Silly. Safe. Oscar had to do his best impression of Charles Leclerc. I had to text an ex “I still think about you.” Lily had to eat a spoonful of hot sauce.

And then…

“Truth,” Oscar said, looking at me.

I took a sip of wine. “Have you ever had a threesome?”

Lily choked. Oscar smiled like a man enjoying the heat. “No.”

“You’ve thought about it?” I asked, eyes locked on his.

He held the gaze. “Sure.”

“Would you?”

He glanced at Lily. Then back at me. And he didn’t answer. But the silence was enough.

Lily looked between us. Her wine glass dangled from her fingers. “This feels dangerous,” she said softly.

Oscar sat up. “Only if we pretend it doesn’t.”

And there it was again—that pause. That breath held too long.

Like a question that hadn’t been asked yet. And a line we were all quietly aware of.

Not crossed. But… We were right there.

Tag List:

@freyathehuntress, @mimisweetz, @aleatorio1234, @totallynotluluu, @rorabelle15, @prongslena, @linnygirl09, @mangotaitai, @forensicheart, @devilacot

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papayainsectorone · 19 hours ago

Text

black cat aesthetic

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summary: Lando had a type : pretty, not ready to settle down, easy to win over with his charming attitude, but with her not falling for his usual easy and trusty way of getting someone back to his hotel room it became a challenge

content: 18+! smutty smut smut smut (consider this a warning), fem!dom, nsfw descriptions, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex

word count: 4,6k

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

a thought: hi hi! this is the first of my original fic aaaaand I hope you´ll like it! I just started writing again and I haven´t done it for f1 before but you know... smut is smut. lol. oh and on that note this is some real smutty smut so enjoy it!

oop another thought: i had these pictures on my timeline and i just had to use them, maybe the sparkly cat is gone be McLarens friendly cat next time (giggling like i´m 14)

════════════════════════

She was a vision dressed in black — not the kind that faded into the shadows, but the kind that owned them.

Her dress clung to her like liquid midnight, glitter catching the light with every slow, deliberate step she took, like stardust stitched into silk. It was strapless, hugging the swell of her hips and dipping low at the back, showing off bare skin and the kind of curves that made men forget how to breathe. Every inch of her shimmered — but it wasn’t just the fabric. It was her. The way she moved like she had a secret no one else was worthy of hearing.

Dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, glossy and thick, occasionally pulled over one shoulder with a flick of her wrist, like she was teasing the room with just a glimpse of collarbone and perfume. Her eyes were feline — slanted, sharp, impossibly dark — and when they landed on Lando from across the room, it felt like being hunted.

She didn’t walk. She stalked. Slow, graceful, intentional. Every movement whispered, I know you want me. I just don’t care.

Lando had never seen anything like her. She wasn’t the type who clung to a driver’s arm or waited to be invited inside the VIP lounge. She was the event — glittering, smirking, sipping something dangerous with a finger curled around the glass just so.

And every time they crossed paths — always at parties, always when the music was loud and the air was thick with sweat and want — she was the same: bratty. Unimpressed. Cruel, even, in how she let him chase her only to slip away again. She’d whisper something dirty into his ear, press her hips into his and grind against him on the dancefloor just long enough to feel him grow hard under his jeans — and then she’d smile, kiss the corner of his mouth, and disappear into the crowd like smoke.

It drove him insane.

It had been months.

But as she saw the pictures, Lando before the Miami race, glistening skin, eyes sparkling like the discoball helmet in his hand and that cocky fucking grin, it was over.

The heat of the Florida sun couldn’t compete with the way he looked in that helmet shoot. And something in her snapped.

~~~~~

The party was in full swing by the time Lando arrived — some posh rooftop in Monte Carlo, filled with champagne flutes, low lighting, and music thumping like a heartbeat through the floor. He was still riding the high from Miami, media buzz, podium finish, and those helmet shots everywhere online.

And yet… his eyes scanned the crowd like a man searching for oxygen.

And then he froze.

She was there.

Leaning against the balcony, one leg crossed over the other, black dress poured over her like it had been painted on fresh that night. Glitter shimmered with every breath she took. Her lips were blood red, parted slightly as she sipped from a martini glass, and her eyes those pitch-black, cat-sharp eyes were already on him.

Not smirking. Not teasing. Waiting.

Tonight felt different.

He walked over cocky, of course, always cocky but there was a tension in his jaw. She saw it. Felt it. Loved it.

"You're not gonna vanish on me again, are you?" he asked, standing close enough to smell her perfume. Warm, floral, dizzying.

She tilted her head. “That depends. You gonna try your usual lines again?”

Lando’s lips twitched. “They usually work.”

"Exactly,” she said, taking the last sip of her drink and setting it down, her tongue licking the corner of her mouth, “but I´m not fucking ‘usual,’ am I?”

He blinked, thrown for a second.

She took a step closer, grabbing the front of his shirt. “I saw those pictures.”

“What pictur—”

“You know which ones.”

Her voice was low, almost a growl. Her lips brushed his ear. “With the helmet. Cocky little smirk like you knew exactly what you were doing to everyone watching.”

Lando’s mouth went dry. “Yeah?”

“I got wet,” she whispered. “You wanna know what I did about it?”

He groaned, a barely-contained sound deep in his throat. “Fuck—”

“Shhh.” Her nails dragged down his chest. “I decided. Next time I saw you, I wasn’t leaving you hard on the dancefloor. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll never get the glitter off your sheets.”

~~~~~

She didn’t take him upstairs.

Not yet.

Instead, she pulled him by the belt loop and led him straight to the dancefloor — a haze of strobe lights, pulsing bass, and champagne-soaked sweat. Lando followed like he didn’t have a choice anymore, like gravity had changed direction and her body was the new center of it.

Her back pressed to his chest before he could even think. She reached behind her, grabbing his hands and sliding them down her waist, planting them there, like a warning: you can touch, but only because I let you.

The music was thick, dark, seductive. The kind that crawled into your bloodstream and made everything feel slower, heavier.

And then she started to move.

Her ass rolled into his hips with a precision that was weaponized. Grinding back, slow and deep, feeling the way his body instantly stiffened against her. She smiled when she felt the hard line of him through his jeans. It had always been like this — instant. Dangerous. But this time? She wasn't pulling away.

"Fuck," Lando hissed in her ear, trying to keep his hands where she left them, trying not to grab her and press her harder into him like his whole body was begging him to.

"You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?" she purred, grinding again, slower this time. "Wondering what it would feel like. Wondering how tight I am. How loud I get."

His fingers dug into her hips. "You have no fucking idea."

"Mmm, poor baby." Her voice dripped sarcasm, teasing and cruel and intoxicating. "You’ve been so patient."

"Not really," he breathed, trying to bite back a groan as she rolled her hips again, shameless and deliberate.

She laughed — low, wicked, and so close to his ear it made him shiver. Then she turned to face him. Hands on his chest, eyes on his mouth, her lips curved into that knowing smirk he’d memorized.

And then, without warning, she kissed him.

Not sweet. Not romantic. Possession.

Teeth. Tongue. Heat.

His hands flew to her waist, then her lower back, then her ass — greedy, finally free to take — but the moment he deepened it, she pulled back with a slick pop of her lips and whispered, "Get me out of here?"

He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

He just grabbed her hand and dragged her through the crowd, out the doors, and into the elevator, hitting the button to his floor like it might explode under his thumb.

~~~~~

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, she turned.

No words, no warning — just dropped to her knees in front of him like she owned the fucking room.

Lando froze. His mouth went dry.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, dark and playful, before she said in a low voice, “You’ve waited long enough. Might as well see if the hype matches the cock.”

He swore under his breath as her fingers hooked into his waistband and undid his belt with that casual ease, like she’d thought about this. Practiced this.

She pulled his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion, her breath hitting his now fully hard cock, and gave a soft, wicked little hum. “Cute how you’re already this hard. Just from dancing with me? Pathetic.”

Then she licked the head — slow, teasing, circling it with her tongue like she was tasting dessert.

Lando's head fell back with a groan. “Fuck, please—”

“Oh, you’re gonna beg?” she cooed, hand wrapping around the base of him while she jerked him with slow, maddening strokes. “I haven’t even started yet.”

And then her mouth was on him.

Wet heat. Suction. Tongue swirling around the head, then flattening under the shaft as she took him deeper.

He choked on a gasp, hands gripping the edge of the dresser behind him. “Jesus Christ—"

Her pace was intentional. Dirty. She pulled off with a pop, spit trailing from her lips to his cock, then went back in like a woman on a mission — head bobbing, hand pumping in sync, moaning just enough to drive him fucking crazy.

Lando looked down, dazed, watching her black hair fall over her cheekbones, glitter from her dress catching the light even from this angle. Her eyes locked on his the whole time, daring him to lose it.

“Gonna come?” she said breathlessly, pumping him faster, lips swollen and wet.

“No— not yet, just—fuck—slow down—”

She laughed and sucked him harder, lips sealing around the tip, her other hand massaging his balls, and it was over.

Lando’s whole body tensed as he came with a broken moan, spilling down her throat while she swallowed like it was nothing. She held him there, gently licking until he twitched, overstimulated, helpless.

“Messy,” she said, dragging her thumb across her lip, tasting it. “Cute how fast you came. Bet that doesn’t usually happen, huh?”

Lando could barely breathe. His body was still trembling, but that comment? That cocky little smirk?

It lit a fuse.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” he growled, voice still ragged, but something dangerous flaring behind it.

She rose to her feet — slow, fluid, like a cat who just batted at her prey to see if it would twitch. “I think it’s adorable,” she said, brushing past him like she wasn’t even impressed. “All that charm, all that attitude and all it took was my mouth.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaned back on her palms, legs slightly parted in invitation — not submission. Daring.

Lando’s head tilted, breath shallow.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“And you’re still standing there,” she shot back, one eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna show me what makes all these girls gush about you or just stay stunned?”

He didn’t answer.

He just moved — fast, jaw clenched, eyes wild — stalking her like he’d had enough of being outplayed. And that was exactly what she wanted.

He grabbed her by the hips and hauled her to the center of the bed, tossing her like she weighed nothing. His body was on her in seconds — hot, heavy, pinning — and she just grinned, amused, taunting.

“What?” she purred, voice thick with challenge. “Finally gonna stop letting me do all the work?”

Lando's mouth crashed into hers, bruising and full of bite. No more patience. No more teasing. His hands were rough on her thighs, forcing them open as he rolled his hips between them, cock already hard again and throbbing.

“You want to see what makes them gush?” he growled, nipping her jaw, then her neck. “You fucking asked for it.”

She moaned — sharp and satisfied — as he sucked a mark onto her collarbone, then dragged his tongue down her chest. He didn’t worship, didn’t pause. Just bit her nipple through the fabric of her dress, then yanked the whole thing down her torso.

“Rip it,” she hissed, smirking. “I’ve got more.”

He did.

The fabric tore like tissue in his fists.

Now she was spread out for him — no underwear, just naked, glowing, glitter still clinging to her skin like a constellation mapped just for him. She was the most dangerous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

And he was about to ruin her.

But not like that. Not yet.

Lando sat back on his heels, breathing heavy, just looking at her — legs open, skin flushed, chest rising, still smirking like she knew she had him in the palm of her hand. Which, to be fair, she did.

But not for long.

“You think you’re still in charge?” he asked, voice low, head tilting as his hands ran up her thighs. “Even now?”

She propped herself up on her elbows, eyes gleaming. “Oh, honey. I know I am.”

He chuckled once — dark, rough — and then dipped his head between her legs.

No warning.

No warm-up.

Just tongue.

He licked one long, slow stripe up her pussy, tasting her like she was the only thing he’d ever wanted. Then he buried his face in her and devoured her — messy, desperate, like he was starving and her cunt was the cure.

She gasped, loud and sudden, hands flying into his curls, but he didn’t let up. Tongue flicking fast over her clit, then circling it, then sucking it into his mouth while two fingers slid deep inside her, curling just right.

“Fuck—” she moaned, hips twitching up into his mouth.

He groaned in response, the sound vibrating right against her — and she shook.

“Oh my god, yes—fuck, right there,” she gasped, grinding against his face now, and he loved it. Let her ride it. Let her use him. Because he wasn’t stopping until she was crying his name.

He pulled his fingers out just to spread her open with both hands, tongue lapping at her clit in tight, devastating circles. Then flatter. Then faster. Switching it up every time she got close, dragging it out until her thighs were trembling.

“You still so smug now?” he muttered between licks, lips slick with her. “Still think you’ve got the upper hand?”

“Yes—” she choked out.

That made him grin.

And then he locked in — lips sealing over her clit, fingers back inside her, stroking that perfect spot until her back arched off the bed and she came with a scream so raw and real it echoed through the room.

She pulsed around his fingers, hands gripping his hair like she didn’t want him to stop even as her whole body shuddered from the intensity.

But he didn’t stop.

He kept going dragging her through it, licking her overstimulated clit with careful precision, slowing down just enough to drive her crazy in a new way.

She was gasping now, body twitching, trying to squirm away.

“Too much?” he said, mouth still brushing her.

“Shut up,” she hissed, breathless, eyes glazed. “More.”

So he gave her more.

He dragged his mouth away, tasting her once more with a slow, languid lick from her pussy. Her body twitched at the sensation, and for a moment, she thought — hoped — he was done teasing her.

But then he flipped her.

Without a word, he shifted her on the bed, pulling her by the hips until her legs were bent and her ass was in the air, ready. She gasped, heart racing.

Lando’s grip on her hips tightened, and instead of shoving himself inside her, he ran the flat of his tongue up her again, brushing against her already sensitive pussy.

“You think you’re ready for me?” he asked, voice rough, watching her shiver beneath him. He slapped her ass, the sound echoing in the room, making her jump.

She gasped, mouth falling open, but she didn’t get a chance to respond before he ran his tongue back down her folds, his fingers gripping her hips tightly as he licked her pussy again — rougher this time but slower, like he was savoring every inch of her.

She pushed back against his face instinctively, wanting more, desperate for it.

"You're so fucking impatient," he growled, slapping her ass again, harder this time, leaving a sting that made her breath catch. "What happened to the brat who thought she had me figured out?"

She moaned at the sting and the pressure of his mouth on her, not able to answer as his tongue worked its magic dragging between her lips, dipping inside her, before circling her clit with a sharp flick of the tongue. The pressure was too good, too much, too perfect. She wanted him to fuck her, needed him to, but he was dragging it out, his pace slow and maddening.

His tongue flicked her clit again, just the right pressure, and her legs quivered beneath her.

Her breath came in ragged gasps.

Lando pulled away just enough to press his cock to her entrance, teasing her entrance with the head, but not pushing in. Not yet.

“Not enough,” he murmured, pressing his palm against the small of her back, holding her still as his cock twitched against her. He was hard, throbbing, but he made her wait just a little longer — the anticipation almost torturing her.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He rubbed over her ass now, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

But as Lando pressed the head of his cock to her entrance, teasing, holding her down like he was the one in charge — she snapped back into control.

“Say my name,” he growled. “Beg for it.”

She froze for half a second — chest heaving, thighs still trembling from the edge of her second orgasm — and then she laughed. Laughed.

“Oh, baby,” she purred, pulling her hips forward and slipping away from his grip. “You really think I’m still playing your game?”

Before he could respond, she turned — slow and fluid — and stood on the bed, towering over him now, her body glittering with sweat and gold flecks, hair wild, lips parted in wicked satisfaction.

Lando looked up at her, stunned — cock throbbing, jaw clenched, pulse hammering in his throat.

She dropped down, straddling him, pushing his chest with both hands until he lay flat against the mattress. He went, stunned by the shift, his hands catching her thighs but not resisting — not yet.

“I’ve begged enough,” she whispered, leaning down, mouth brushing his. “I gave you my mouth, I let you taste me. But what about you, hmm?”

Her hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him once, hard and slow, watching his jaw tighten. “So hard again already,” she teased. “Poor baby’s probably ready to come without even being inside me.”

And then she shifted — hips lowering, her slick heat just barely brushing his tip.

He groaned — a raw, broken sound — as she rolled her hips, her folds parting around him, coating him in her arousal but not letting him in. Not yet.

“Look at you,” she smirked, circling her hips, letting her wetness slide over the length of him again and again. “I could keep you like this all night — aching, desperate. Wouldn’t even have to try.”

Lando’s fingers dug into her thighs, hard now, his eyes wild with need.

“You’re evil,” he ground out.

“And you love it,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss his jaw, slow and biting. “You’re so used to getting what you want. Girls dropping their panties the second you smirk. But not me. I make you work for it.”

Then — finally — she lifted her hips, angled herself, and sank down on him in one slow, slick slide.

They both gasped.

Her head fell back, mouth open, thighs tensing around his sides as he filled her perfectly. He was thick, pulsing, and she clenched around him like she owned him.

Because she did.

She opened her eyes again, looking down at him, voice low and deadly sweet.

He was buried in her now, cock throbbing inside that slick, velvet heat — and still, she didn’t move.

Just sat there.

Full of him. Tight around him. Smirking down at him like she knew she had him right where she wanted.

Lando’s hands gripped her hips, trying to urge her into motion, but she slapped them away, slow and firm.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, breath hitching with control. “You don’t get to rush me.”

His hands clenched into the sheets instead, muscles tight with restraint. He was losing it, eyes dark and pleading.

“Please,” he rasped. “Fuck, please just—move.”

She tilted her head, biting her lip, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like begging to me.”

“Please,” he groaned again, voice wrecked. “Please, baby, ride me—fuck—need it so bad, you feel so good…”

Her smile turned wicked.

“There it is,” she whispered, leaning forward, her chest brushing his as she braced her hands on either side of his head. “That’s what I wanted.”

Then she moved.

Slow at first — a slow grind of her hips that dragged his cock against every inch of her. He moaned, low and raw, head falling back into the pillows as she rocked above him.

She set the pace, hips circling, then bouncing in sharp, smooth rhythm. Riding him with power, control, purpose.

Every grind sent him deeper. Every bounce pulled a sound from his throat that bordered on a whimper.

She was dripping now — wet and messy and taking him again and again, her thighs flexing with every rise and fall, sweat rolling down her spine. He watched her, chest heaving, completely at her mercy.

“You gonna come for me like this?” she taunted, breathless but still in control. “From me riding you?”

He nodded, almost frantic. “Yes—fuck—don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

His hands gripped her ass now, holding on like he was drowning. She rode him harder, grinding on the downstroke, clenching around him just to feel him twitch inside her.

He was close — so close — and she could feel it in the way he was panting, in the way his hips stuttered up into hers, chasing the high she was just barely giving him.

“God, you’re so close, aren’t you?” she whispered, licking at his throat. “Gonna come just like this. All needy and ruined under me.”

“Please—please—I’m gonna—”

She slammed down on him harder, faster now, and it was everything — slick and obscene, their bodies slapping together, her name falling from his lips like a prayer.

“Come for me,” she whispered in his ear. “Come like a good boy.”

And he did.

With a broken, guttural cry, he spilled into her, cock pulsing deep inside as his whole body jerked beneath her. She rode him through it — slow, steady, milking every last drop until he was trembling, eyes glazed, completely wrecked.

She didn’t stop.

Not yet.

Still grinding her hips, chasing her own high, she leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.

“Think you can take me coming on your cock too?” she breathed. “One more, baby. Be good and give it to me.”

Lando was spent — eyes blown wide, chest rising fast, body limp beneath her as he twitched through the aftershocks. But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The way he filled her, the way he pulsed inside her, the way he let her take everything she wanted — it was too much.

And not enough.

She was so close it hurt, thighs trembling, her breath catching as she ground down onto him again and again, chasing it. Her rhythm stayed steady — deep, dragging, filthy — her clit brushing his pelvis every time she dropped down, cock still hard inside her despite the sensitivity.

“F-Fuck—” he whimpered, hands flying to her hips again. Not to stop her — just to hold on.

“I know,” she gasped. “You’re sensitive.”

He nodded, jaw clenched, breath shaking. “So fucking sensitive…”

“But you’re gonna take it,” she moaned, eyes wild. “Because I’m not done with you.”

And he did — let her ride out every last wave of her control, overstimulated and overwhelmed beneath her. His head dropped back again, moaning through gritted teeth, and that sound alone was enough to tip her right over the edge.

Her body tensed.

Back arched.

A strangled cry tore from her throat as she came hard around him, clenching tight and shaking through it, stars behind her eyes, fire in her veins. The orgasm ripped through her like lightning, long and slow and devastating.

She collapsed forward, trembling and panting against his chest, her body still pulsing around him.

Lando wrapped his arms around her — shaky, loose — like even that took effort.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

She let out a lazy, breathless laugh into his neck. “Still think you’re in charge, golden boy?”

He didn’t answer.

He just held her tighter.

And whispered, like a secret:

“No. But I want to be next time.”

#lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris smut #smut #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 angst #formula 1 fic #formula 1 smut

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trippiexlove · 16 hours ago

Text

Daddy’s Home

Author Note: Part three to Stone Cold Sinner. Read PART 1 & PART 2 here. Soriya surprises Jey after being on the road. Based on the song Hey Daddy by Usher. If you would like to read any of my other works, here is my master list. Leave requests on this linked post.

Warning: SMUT, Fluff, Oral (M Receiving), Profanity. 18+ ONLY

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC (Ari Fletcher as FC)

Word Count: 2,973

Is you say, "Daddy's home, home for me" And I know you've been waiting for this loving all day You know your daddy's home and it's time to play So you ain't got to give my loving away

Josh leaned lazily on the back wall of the elevator as it ascending up to his floor. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. It didn't seem to last long, as the familiar ding make him pop his eyes open.

He sluggishly walked down the long hallway, his muscles screaming in protest with every step. His world title, which felt 20 pounds heavier, in one hand and his gear bag in the other.

Once he got his hotel door he swiped the card, the light turning green, walking in. He threw his title and bag on the couch before falling onto the bed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, blowing out a sigh of relief. Before he drifted off to sleep he pulled out his phone.

A text from Soriya was the first one he seen.

Princess 🩵: You looked so damn good in your match baby! I can't wait for you to come home ❤️ Baby ❤️: Thank you princess, I can't wait to see you.

After he sent the text he got back up heading into the shower. Due to his tiredness he didn't take long before he was right back in bed. His eyes shut and he drifted off to sleep with no issue.

Soriya was finishing up making content when her doorbell rang. She got up, a smile already forming, knowing it would be Tiffany and Breanna. She swung the door open, pulling them both into a tight hug.

"Hey girl!" Tiffany exclaimed, stepping inside.

Breanna laughed, dropping her purse on the floor. "Hey bestie, we missed your face, Ri."

"Missed you guys too," Soriya said, leading them into the living room. "It's just been but you know." She gestured vaguely, a soft smile playing on her lips.

They settled onto the couch, and after a few minutes of catching up on work and the latest gossip, Tiffany leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, spill the tea. How's it going with the champ?"

Soriya's smile widened. "It's going really well, actually. He's amazing. So supportive, always finding time to call or text even with our crazy schedule."

"Aww, that's sweet," Breanna said genuinely. "But it must be tough when he's on the road so much."

A touch of sadness flickered across Soriya's face. "It is. I miss him like crazy when he's gone." She brightened slightly. "But he's coming back soon, thankfully. Just a few more days."

Tiffany's eyebrows shot up. "Coming back soon, huh? You should totally surprise him!"

Soriya's eyes widened, a spark of intrigue igniting within her. She hadn't even considered it. "Surprise him?"

"Yeah" Tiffany continued, her enthusiasm growing. "Think about it, he's probably expecting to just come home to a quiet house. Imagine his face when you're there waiting for him"

Breanna chimed in, a playful smirk on her face. "You could even make it a whole welcome home celebration. Cook his favorite meal, wear that lingerie he loves..." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Soriya's cheeks flushed slightly, but a genuine smile spread across her face. The idea was definitely appealing. Her mind started racing, little scenarios playing out in her head. What would his reaction be? What kind of surprise would he like the most?

"Hmm," she said slowly, tapping a finger against her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I may have a few ideas"

The girls stuck around for a while. Soriya cooking them dinner and they watched movies and drunk wine until they left a little while later.

Soriya spent the next day getting herself together, buying the things she needed to surprise Josh in a couple days.

She was currently leaving her hair appointment before her phone went off. Josh's contact and their picture flashed across the screen. She connected her phone to her car before she answered.

She smiled as the call connected "Hey baby"

"Damn," Josh took a double look, "You look good as fuck ma, I'm fuckin' with the hair"

Soriya ran her fingers through the long blonde strands of her fresh install "Thank you honey. I just got it done today"

"That's unfortunate cause I'ma just pull that shit right off"

Soriya playfully rolled her eyes "Yeah no sir, you fuck up my hair then you're paying for it"

"Send me your stylist info, I'll just pay in advance" He shot her his infamous smirk as she tried to hide her blush.

She couldn't help but laugh at his antics "Bye Josh I am not bout to play with you"

"You laughin' but I'm deadass serious" Soriya playfully rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "But for real tho, I'll be back in Atlanta on Saturday, you comin' down or what?"

Soriya shrugged her shoulders playing it off, "I can't baby, I got this event this weekend" which wasn't a lie, but she was sending one of her assistants instead. She knew they would handle it just fine.

When Soriya looked down at her phone, she started pouting when she saw his face. "Baby don't look like that. What about next weekend?"

"I can't, got a house show everyday that weekend"

"I'm sorry baby," She tried to play it cool, not trying to give herself away "I'll make it up to you the next time we're together"

Josh sighed in disappointment, rubbing a hand down his face "I understand princess," he looked back in the camera, sadness all over his face, "next time I ain't taking no for an answer tho"

She laughed softly before nodding in agreement, "I'm sure you won't"

They finished their phone call before Soriya hung up, making it home. She brought in all the bags that she needed, organizing everything that she needed. Once she seen everything spread out, the excitement began to build within her. Along with the anticipation of seeing her man.

Soriya had flown into Atlanta the next day, thanks to Trinity for picking her up late last night. She was now busy decorating the living room. She didn't have much time as Josh was currently on a plane and would be landing very soon.

"How you want to set up these balloons?" Trin held the balloons by their strings.

"I was going to string the letters together and let them float over the couch," Soriya reached over grabbing the strings she needed, handing them to Trinity. "can you do that for me please?"

Trinity nodded, getting right to work "Yeah I got you". Soriya gave her a quick thank you, rushing up the stairs.

In Josh's bedroom she had it petals all laid out on the floor. A few gifts to the side she had to put into gift bags. His favorite snacks, a new iced out cuban with a matching bracelet, and a new pair of white forces because why not.

Once she got that together she heard Trin come into the room. "Damn girl you going all out, you proposing to my brother or something"

Soriya laughed shaking her head "I just missed my man that's all" she shrugged her shoulder, placing the gift bags to the side.

"Mhmm," Trin gave her a sheepish smile, "I got the balloons set up if you want to come see them" Soriya nodded before they headed downstairs.

Her eyes widen as she looked at the large balloons hanging in the living room. "They look so good, thanks Trin" She smiled, turning to give her friend a hug.

"You're welcome sis, let me take a picture for you cause we both know he about to fuck up your hair" both of them laughing.

She sat on one of little ottomans, her back facing Trin. She leaned over doing a pose as Trin snapped a few pictures, getting the balloons in the frame. "Damn, girl that ass sittin' right"

Soruya bust out laughing before snatching her phone out of Trin hand. "Girl go, you always playin'"

"Yeah, yeah let me head out, me and Jon got plans" Soriya nodded, walking her to the door and watching her as she drove off.

She walked back into the living room, looking over everything. She checked the time, seeing that Josh was probably landing as it was nearing 6pm. She cleaned up everything and quickly ran upstairs to get herself ready.

The wheels of the SUV crunched over the familiar driveway just after midnight. The Atlanta night was quiet, save for the hum of crickets and the occasional flicker of streetlight. Josh stepped out, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, cap low over his eyes. His body ached, but his heart beat a little faster as he approached the door.

It was cracked open—just a sliver.

He pushed it gently, and what greeted him on the other side took the last bit of tension out of his shoulders.

The living room was bathed in a soft, golden glow. Candles flickered along the mantle and coffee table. The faint sound of a song by Sza played low in the background. But it was the silver balloons—shining in the candlelight, big and bold, spelling out DADDY'S HOME—that brought a slow smile to his face.

And then... he saw her.

Soriya stood at the foot of the couch, framed by the balloon letters. She wore a deep sapphire-blue lingerie set, the color he always said looked real good on her skin. Her curves were wrapped in lace and silk, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She didn't say a word—just let her eyes lock with his, smirking slightly as she slowly walked toward him.

Josh dropped his bag and exhaled, the weight of everything finally melting.

"Damn," he breathed, eyes never leaving her. "This what I come home to?"

Soriya's smile widened, but her eyes softened. "Welcome Home Daddy"

He stepped closer, running a rough hand down her arm, needing to touch her just to make sure this wasn't another dream. "You always know how to make a man feel like a king."

She tilted her head, fingers reaching up to trace the gold chain resting on his chest. "You are a king, baby. Out there? You showed the world. But in here..." She placed her hand over his heart. "You're just mine."

Josh leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "I missed you, baby."

"I know," she smiled and whispered. "And I missed you"

They stood there, letting the silence say what words couldn't. The beat of the music pulsed around them, slow and sultry. The air between them thickened, the pull magnetic.

"I want to take care of you tonight," Soriya murmured, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt. "Let me."

Josh smiled softly, voice low and rough. "You already are."

Soriya smiled, stepping out of his hold. Taking his hands in hers, she led him towards the stairs. "I have a few surprises for you upstairs that I want you to see."

Josh licked his bottom lip, his gaze lingering on Soriya. "That ain't the only thing I'm tryin' to see."

She glanced over her shoulder, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "If you're good, you can get that too." Josh let out a low chuckle, allowing her to lead the way to his room.

Once they were inside, Josh's eyes widened slightly. He took in all the decorations until his gaze settled on the three gift bags by the bed. "You did all this?"

"I might've had some help," she said, smiling proudly. "Go head and open your gifts."

"Damn, it ain't even my birthday." Josh grabbed the first bag, the smallest of the three. He pulled out a medium-sized rectangular black box with ELIANTTE in bold white letters across it.

Josh immediately looked at Soriya, who wore a proud smirk. "Why you looking at me?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Open the box."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He opened the box, and his eyes widened, seeing the chain and matching bracelet. He turned the box, admiring the way the diamonds caught the light. "Baby, what the fuck?"

"You like it?"

Josh placed the box back in the bag. "I love it, mama." He picked up the next bag, pulling out a shoebox and giving her a goofy grin that made her laugh. "You just know me, huh?"

Soriya playfully rolled her eyes. "As if you needed another pair."

"Got to keep a fresh pair." He moved on to the next bag, his eyes lighting up as he saw all his favorite snacks. "You went all out, baby."

"This ain't nothin'," she shrugged. "Just love spoiling my man, that's all."

"Your man?" He teased, biting his bottom lip and tilting his head a bit.

"Damn right," she stated confidently, meeting his gaze with determination.

Josh sauntered over to Soriya, stopping directly in front of her. His impressive 6'2" frame towered over her petite stature. He pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. Soriya moaned softly at the contact, savoring every nuance of the moment.

With effortless ease, Josh lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He turned, gently laying her on the bed and then hovering above her.

Josh trailed kisses from her lips along the delicate curve of her jawline, continuing down the sensitive skin of her neck. The cool touch of his chain against her heated skin sent a shiver of relief through her.

His hands roamed her curves, pulling on the loose tie of the robe. He leaned up, helping her slip it off. He took a moment to admire her. Her blonde hair glowing in the low light of the room. He quickly took off his shirt, throwing it across the room

His rough hand moved up the sides of her curves, resting at the base of her neck. Lifting her up slightly, he pulled her into another kiss. This one more needy than the last.

Soriya placed her hands on his toned chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms. She flipped them over, her fingers splaying against the warm skin of his chest as she quickly straddled his waist, a small, satisfied sigh escaping her lips. "Mmm, this night is about you." Her gaze locked with his, a silent invitation in her eyes.

Josh didn't protest as she trailed kiss down his chest and abs, sliding down stopping at the top of his sweats. Josh watched with eagerness, waiting on her next move.

She pulled them down, his thick, girth popped up. Soriya licked her lips unconsciously. Her delicate hands wrapped around him, earning a deep groan from Josh.

She took the tip into her mouth, feeling Josh tense up. A low fuck coming from him. He wrapped his hands through her hair as he watched her take him down her throat.

Soriya kept a steady pace, taking him inch by inch. Her hand stroking the part of his shaft she couldn't get to.

"Fuck, ma," he took in a sharp inhale of breath "you're doing so good for me"

His praise fueled something in her. With the increase of her pace, Josh's grip on her hair tightened. "Right there mama, shit keep goin' just like that"

Soriya allowed him to take control, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tighten, knowing he was near his release. Josh fist her hair in his hands, guiding her through his orgasm. She immediately released him, Josh pulled her back up to him. Smashing his lips with hers.

His hand reached behind her, unlatching the clasp with ease. Tossing the bra somewhere. Soriya pushed against his chest, "I missed you so much"

"Yeah," he stated in-between kisses, "show me then."

She sat up just enough to slip off her underwear with the help of Josh. She slid down his length, gasping at the fullness she was feeling. Keeping a steady pace.

Josh trailed kisses along her jaw, down the side of her neck. Leaving love bites that she will definitely fuss about in the morning. But in this moment Soriya didn't care about that except for how Josh was making her feel.

"F-fuck baby," A breathy moan escaped from her mouth. Josh taking one of her erect nipples into his mouth. Toying with the sensitive bud.

Soriya's hands found purchase on his back, clawing deep scratches that didn't seem to faze Josh one bit.

"Fuck you look so pretty taking me," Josh gripped her waist, angling his hip, hitting against a new spot. "say it back, tell me you're pretty"

"Baby," Soriya couldn't help but to moan out desperately.

His hand came down on her backside, making her moan from the pleasure, "I said, tell me you're pretty"

Letting out a drawn out moan, she looked him in his eyes "I-I'm pretty"

He wrapped his hand around her throat, maintaining eye contact, "I'm gon' marry you one day, and you gon' have all my kids," Soriya inhaled sharply, not because of his words but the overwhelming of love she was feeling. "hmm, you gon' have my baby Soriya?"

She nodded her head, not being able to put a comprehensive reply together. Josh could feel that she was close by the way he felt her clench around him. He was close too, but he needed to hear her say it "I need words baby. Don't you fuckin' cum until you say it"

"Y-yes" The euphoric feeling starting to consume her "yes I'll have your baby" she threw her head back as her resolve began to crumble.

"That's my princess," he laid open-mouth kisses along her neck, bear-hugging her as he was nearing his eventual release "that's it mama, let it all out for me"

That was all Soriya needed as she let her orgasm her, "Oooh Fuck". Her nails digging deep into Josh's back, making him wince in pain.

As her climax washed over her, it ignited his own. Josh's grip tightened, their bodies moving as one until the euphoric high began to recede, leaving them both breathless. He peppered Soriya's lips with soft kisses. "I love you."

Her chest still rising and falling rapidly, Soriya met his gaze. "I love you too." Wrapped in each other's arms, a sense of deep comfort settled over them before sleep claimed them both.

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