#don’t put baby in the shed

[shadowbelle94]

Just to let y’all know, if Neil and Craig put Ellie in the shed in season 2, I stg I’m gonna lose every single one of my marbles

[sissa-arrows]

2 last weeks in France…

- A French Moroccan teacher was insulted by a student who told her she didn’t belong in France and never would. 1

- A French North African man was attacked after going out of the mosque. The attackers said anti Arab slurs while beating him. He survived only because a guy started filming and screamed “I’m filming” which made the racists run away. 2

- A 14 years old French Algerian kid was beat up by three young white men who said he was just there to steal benefits. 3

- A 50 years old white guy went out at night with a gun shooting in the air (he didn’t cross path with anyone fortunately) screaming “death to Arabs” 4

- 4 white men attacked a 19 years old North African man they told him “you come from jihad city you’re an Arab you don’t belong in this country.” Before beating him up and throwing him in the river. 5

- A cop who was NOT on duty shot a homeless Algerian man 7 times killing him. He justified it by saying that the homeless man was sleeping in his mom’s unused shed 6

- A mother with her baby was attacked by two men who tried to punch her and to pull out her hijab telling her “go back where you come from dirty *anti Arab slur*” (can’t find an article but I saw the complain she filled)

- A white woman hit a North African child with her car in front of the school and refused to stop the child had a broken leg (can’t find an article but I saw the complain she filled the mom posted it)

- A black woman found papers with insults on her car and trash in her letterbox. An other black woman found banana peels in her backyard her neighbors put them there 9

- That’s not counting to multiple verbal attacks (on women and children mostly). Racism, homophobia and transphobia are on the rise like never before since the RN got historically high scores at the European elections but suuuuuure the RN is not racist…

[bucks-babe]

Be Mean To Me

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 

Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female

Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut

A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut

You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.

It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.

“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.

“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.

“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.

“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.

“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.

“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.

“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 

“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 

“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.

On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.

“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.

He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 

His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”

He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.

“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.

With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.

Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.

He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.

You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 

The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 

This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.

He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 

With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 

Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.

“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.

“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.

“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.

Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.

He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.

“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 

You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.

The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.

Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.

“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.

“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.

Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 

The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.

“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.

His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 

He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 

After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”

Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.

You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 

“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.

He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.

He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”

You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.

Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 

“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.

“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”

His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 

As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.

Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.

Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”

Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.

Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.

“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.

Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”

Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.

“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.

Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 

Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.

Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.

 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 

You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.

[dear-aubade]

Kisses After Midnight

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Smut

Summary: Joel gets back from a long patrol in the middle of the night. It’s clear that his baby missed him very much.

Notes: smut, sub!reader, soft!dom!joel, praise, dirty talk, unprotected piv, Joel calls reader every pet name in the book, teasing, slight orgasm denial, dd/lg vibes sorta (but no use of ‘daddy’), let’s play a game called how many times can the author use the word ‘sweet’ in one fic

For it being the end of the world, you and Joel had a pretty good life. He’d been in Jackson for about eight months—eight months in which he gave his heart to the sweetest little thing to ever walk the earth.

Your very existence seemed to be a mockery of the times you lived in. You were soft and sweet, edges not yet roughed. He didn’t know how you’d gone so long staying as doe-eyed as you did—hell, he didn’t know how you ended up with him. He felt far too…jaded. Far too rough to be with someone so beautiful and untainted.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He still remembered the first day you knocked on his door, asking in your honey-sweet voice, I told Maria I’d give you a tour of the town. Is that alright, Mr. Miller? Oh, he’d just about died then.

Things only took off from there. Something would break in your house, and he’d be called over to fix it. Then you would bring him some bread you baked as a thank you, and then he’d say, Well this is too nice, darlin.’ Why don’t you let me return the favor by putting some shelves up in your living room? He’d seen the piles of books at your bedside—your love of reading deserved to be displayed.

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel just…fit. Something clicked, and soon he was moving into your pretty little house, placing kisses to your pretty little lips, waking up pressed against pretty little you.

Yes, for the end of the world, you and Joel were doing quite nicely.

Except on long patrol days, that is. Oh, Joel knew how much you hated it. Now that you’d gotten used to sleeping in Joel’s arms you didn’t want to give it up, not even for a single night.

But Joel had a part to play in the community—he couldn’t stop working, no matter how much he wished he could spend all his time with you. He’d press kisses to your quivering bottom lip, murmuring reassurances that he would be back the very next night.

Which brought him to now. He’d spent a day and a half out in the cold with Tommy scanning for Clickers, thinking about his princess the entire time ice and wind battered his face. Finally, after a day and a half without seeing you, he was shaking the snow off his jacket and stepping inside your shared home.

Joel was quiet as he took off his shoes and shed his outer layers before heading upstairs. Once inside your room he stripped down to his cotton t-shirt and boxers, then slid under the covers beside you. He wrapped his large arm around your body, pulling you into him and was delighted to find you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He nuzzled the top of your head with his nose, then placed a kiss in your hair. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You let out a soft yawn, still groggy and half-asleep. “Hm?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. “Wake up, pretty baby.” Normally Joel would never wake you up in the middle of the night, but you had explicitly asked him to do so every time he got back from a long patrol. He still remembered your teary eyes the morning after the one time he’d tried to let you sleep and just greet you in the morning. He’d never tried again after that.

Now you began to really stir, blinking your eyes as you looked up at him with a soft, sleepy pout that he wanted to kiss. However, it melted away when your eyes grew a little more alert. “Joel?”

He brushed the hair from your face. “Mhmm. I’m home,” he whispered before kissing you soundly on the mouth. He pulled away just slightly, eyes dancing over your face. “I missed my gorgeous girl’s eyes…and those lips, especially.”

You leaned up to plant another firm kiss to his mouth before holding to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting out a soft breath of something almost like relief.

He kept you pressed to the warmth of his body, “Was my little girl lonely ‘round here?” he murmured, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded into his neck. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your neck, holding you close. “I’m right here now.” His sweet thing. His nose brushed along your jaw and neck, taking in your scent. “Let me ease that pretty little mind a bit, hm?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded, eyes getting a little more glossy…

“C’mere, babygirl…” he whispered, cradling the back of your head to pull your lips to his. Joel’s hands roamed over the curves of your body, mapping out each and every familiar piece of you, his palms warm and strong against your skin. He nibbled at your bottom lip until you parted your mouth in a gasp to allow his tongue to slip inside.

Joel soon broke the kiss, panting softly before he started trailing his lips down your throat and collarbone, nibbling and sucking as he went. “Missed that pretty little voice,” he murmured in that low voice of his. “Can you use it again for me sweetheart?” Joel knew how you got when he spoke to you like this. He knew you would be putty beneath him in no time.

You nodded, letting out a strained, “Mhmm.”

Joel pressed your back to the mattress so you were looking up at him. “Use your words, babygirl,” he reminded, dipping to kiss up your throat again. “Or do I need to make you?” His teeth caught on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

You gasped. “I-I can use ‘em.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling away to look at your face, studying your expression. His fingertips brushed the edge of your neckline. “Can I take all this off, baby?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide. “Yes Joel, please.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “So polite.” With that he got to work, pulling the shirt over your head with one swift tug, leaving you bare beneath him. He looked you over greedily, tracing his hands over your sides, squeezing your thighs, making you squirm. “Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, eyes falling over your body. “Look at my sweet baby.”

You let out a soft whine of impatience, but Joel cut you off. “Ah—you gonna be a good girl?” He knew you would be. You always were. He just liked hearing it from your strawberry lips.

You nodded, eyes doe-like. “Yes, promise!”

He smiled. “Always listen so well for me.” He sat up a little to remove his own shirt and throw it to the floor, but swiftly leaned back down to kiss you deeply. You tasted like honey on his tongue and his hands slipped along your sides to rest on your hips, locking you in place.

You uselessly tried to buck against his strong hold, trying to press the apex of your thighs closer to his, but he was having none of it. He chuckled. “Needy girl…always gotta have me ‘s close as possible, hm? So greedy, baby.” His sentence was punctuated by a nip to your neck.

“Jus’ missed you.”

“I know darlin’, I know.” Such a soft, sweet voice you had. He met your big, glassy eyes as his fingertips dragged along your neck….your collarbone…until he grasped one of your breasts with his large hand.

He silenced your gasp with his kisses. His sweet girl—so sensitive, you were. You whimpered into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over the peak of your breast.

How had he been apart from you so long?

You were aching. Joel always likes taking his time with you, you knew that, but sometimes all you wanted him to do was pin you down and ravish you instead of playing you like his favorite instrument, stringing his fingers along each little spot that would make you sing….

Joel’s warm mouth closed around your breast and you let out another soft whimper as he flicked his tongue over the peak. Your hands were in his hair, threading through the salt-and-pepper curls while his tongue and teeth were at work.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel,” you whined, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m gonna give you what you need.” His fingertips dragged down the center of your tummy, drifting farther and farther below…

“Oh,” Joel cooed, and you moaned softly as his fingers dipped into your wetness. “You’re so ready for me, sweetheart.”

You felt like you could cry from the need, the white hot flames that needed to be fanned and then extinguished. “Joel—”

“I’ll take care of you, darlin’. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His thumb found purchase on your bundle of nerves and you keened, arching your back, trying to get closer closer closer while he stoked the fire between your legs. He held you the whole time, murmuring how beautiful you were, how pretty your little voice was, how good you were being for him.

You could feel yourself slowly unraveling; the thread of your very being was fraying, coming apart as you climbed higher, higher—

He removed his hand.

Oh, you whined at that, your climax being ripped away so cruelly and carelessly. “No, no, Joel I—”

“Shh, shh baby.” He quieted your protests with a kiss. “I just had to get you ready for me—want you to finish around my cock.”

His bluntness made you squirm, and you’d been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn’t realized you could feel his hardness against your hip, thick and heavy.

Joel shucked down his boxers and tossed them to the side while you lay there waiting, aching for that fullness you knew so well—

You squealed as he tapped the wet tip of his length against the bud atop your slit.

He chuckled and silenced your high-pitched noises with gentle shushing. “I gotcha, honey,” he murmured.

Then he slid inside.

Joel let out a soft groan next to your ear as he fully sheathed himself within your wetness. “So tight for me baby—“ He cut off with another grunt, sliding out before pushing right back in.

He was so big, his strong arms holding you as he rocked his hips, filling you up, up, up until you swear you could feel him in your tummy. Your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with every thrust.

“My baby,” he crooned, ducking his head to kiss along your neck and shower you with praises as he held you to him. “My sweet babygirl. Missed you so much out on the trail, thought about your pretty little pussy the whole time—”

Your head fell back with a gasp as the tip of Joel’s hardness tickled that spot deep inside that had your toes curling.

He chuckled. “Is that the spot, baby?” He pointedly thrust again, making you moan, and grinned knowingly. “Oh, I think it is, hm?” He picked up his pace again, hitting that spot over and over and over.

You felt something start to coil in your lower belly, something familiar and white-hot. Joel reached down to rub circles into your clit, which made you let out a high-pitched whimper and clench around his length.

You were babbling mindlessly, thoughts empty save for him and how good he was making you feel. “Joel, Joel, I—oh please—I need—”

“I know what you need babygirl.” His teeth caught on your earlobe as he kept his pace. “Can feel—fuck—can feel you clamping down on me. You gonna finish for me already?”

You nodded, your lips parted in a silent gasp of need, eyes big and wide as you whined out a desperate, “Mhmm!”

You bucked your hips into his, and this time when you felt your legs tighten, your breath fail, your tummy coil, Joel murmured hushed affirmatives you your jaw and neck and ear—

You cried out as you fell over the edge. Your back arched, your muscles seized, and your vision blurred with overwhelmed tears as you felt the warmth of Joel finishing inside you soon after.

“That’s it sweetie—fuck, so good for me, such a good girl falling apart on my cock, taking me so well—”

You were letting out desperate needy noises, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as the crackling heat lingered.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, claiming your lips, swallowing your whines with his mouth. “You did so good baby, so good….look at you, my pretty girl, my baby….”

Your body went lax, melting against him, each coo and murmur bringing you deeper under.

“That’s it…I’ve gotcha…” Joel maneuvered you as if you were light as a feather so that you were laying side by side, still connected, him still thick and warm inside of you.

Completely blissed out, you nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around you. Your eyes drooped.

“Tired already, babygirl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s okay, darlin’. Just fall back to sleep. I’ll be holdin’ you the whole night through.”

Soon the fog overtook your mind completely and you drifted off, comforted by the knowledge that your Joel was home again.

[bueckersbitch]

wildest dreams - paige bueckers x reader

୨୧ warnings : sexual content

୨୧ word count : 2.4k

୨୧ authors note : hi guysssss, that photo of p on the middle was taken today and it had me thinking…

୨୧ taglist : @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @rosemariiaa @lovegalor333 @xxloveralways14 @mrsarnold @janaelalfysblunt @bueckersfive

“Chen to Bueckers, aaaaaand, it’s good!” Time froze, your hands dropped to your sides as you watched your defender walk head down to the opposing side. Everything you and the team had been working so hard for the past season, had come to a close. “The Uconn Huskies are your 2025 NCAA national champions! Bueckers will end her collegiate career with a title under her belt!” Echoed from the commentators table, “What a season from Bueckers, am I right? Amazing to witness history in real time, this team has worked through so much. I know Bueckers will be greatly missed at Uconn.” Tears started to well in your eyes as you crossed the court, putting one foot in front of the other mindlessly, the floor slightly slippery as you crashed into Paige. Throwing your arms around her. A sense of pride filled you as you laughed into her shoulder, whispering, “You really did it baby, everything you worked so hard for, those nights you prayed that God would guide our team in the right direction, those early mornings we got up to train, it all paid off.”

Paige’s arms engulfed you, arms tight around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder, “Couldn’t have done it without you ma.” Confetti starts to fall, the blue and white falling around you two, screaming of the arena silenced with noises of soft cries from you and Paige. Still, you heard the commentators, “And there's Paige and y/n, the two of them obviously very close after time at Uconn, while Bueckers declared, y/n chose to stay another year following her acl injury last season. Great teammates who had each other through it all, amazing basketball iq’s that may not play together again in the WNBA.”

There it was, the one thing you had been avoiding, Paige leaving you. Conversation arose when you chose to stay another year at Uconn. Paige was adamant that this would be her last year, and with that, she had something to prove. Not to others, but to herself. Pressure was put on her immediately from the media, talking about how all the greats that have passed through Uconn have gotten one or more national championships. If there was one thing about Paige, it was that she hated losing. You, on the other hand, had considered declaring, but something felt wrong, hurling yourself into a new environment when you hadn’t really been given the opportunity to fully explore this one. Paige was your rock. She was there for all of it. You sometimes thought she knew you better than you knew yourself. But when the time came, you chose to stay.

You pulled away from each other, noses and foreheads stuck together for a brief moment as you both smiled, “Can’t fathom that you’re leaving me, going to the big league, huh?” You said, Paige’s smile quickly fell from her face, her arm wrapped around your shoulder, she kissed the crown of your head. “We don’t gotta think about that right now, look at where we are, where God led us.” You let out a grunt, startled as Morgan jumped onto your back, laughing, “My twin! You really did that!” Morgan had been your roommate this year, and with that, your best friend. You took the young girl under your wing, personalities mirroring each other perfectly. She was one of the reasons why you found yourself yearning to stay another year. Shedding her from your back, you hugged her, ruffling her head lovingly.

-

“Alright! We have Bueckers, y/l/n, and Chen for the presser!” You took your seat in the middle of Paige and Kaitlyn. Eyes from the crowd focused on you, phones out at the ready to tweet your guys’ responses. Questions flowed like water from the interviewers in front of you, seated in rows, raising their hands when talking. Paige answered most of them, excitement exuding from her. You admired her, how the light in her eyes had returned as opposed to the hard times she went through when she was injured.

“Y/n, I wanted to ask you about your time with Paige on this team, obviously, the two of you have been attached at the hip, more so this season. What has that been like?” You clear your throat, sitting up straight as Paige and Kaitlyn both turn to look at you. “Well, Paige is the type of person you really only come across once in your life. She gave me faith, in myself, in our team. And I mean, on the court, her confidence, ability to assess the court, and make plays has been something that has directly resulted in us being able to be seated here today. Off the court, she’s reliable, I don’t think there’s a single time where she hasn’t given amazing advice to all of us. She uplifted me while I was out for injury, sometimes when it got hard, like when I felt like it was unrealistic for me to even play again, she sat me down, and we talked for the entire night, how she had felt the same when she was out, how she yearned to be back on the court, how each day felt two times longer than the last. But yeah, I can’t believe she’s leaving me, it feels like just yesterday we were going through our playlists trying to pick out our first night walk out song.”

You sniffled, the ball in your throat growing larger as you carried on, glancing over at Paige when the time was right. The interviewer following up with, “Paige, how do you feel about having to leave not just y/n, but your whole team here at Uconn?” Paige brings her hand to her face, rubbing her chin, leaning on the table, “Y’know, I feel like it’s the same as last year, our loss to Iowa, there’s gonna be tears regardless of if we won or lost, because yeah, it's surreal having to imagine that a time where I can’t walk over to y/n’s apartment, or team nights in each others rooms is right around the corner. I know everyone is in good hands though, especially with y/n being the old head next season.” You scoffed, shoving her shoulder.

-

Stepping out into the Tampa humidity, your tracksuit immediately becomes uncomfortable, a shower after the presser left you here, outside with Paige. “We fuckin’ did it.” Paige points to a screen, you look up at the building, eyes widening. Screen bright with “Uconn Huskies, NCAA Women’s Basketball Champions.” Husky in the center of the screen, confetti graphics around it. Your arms crossed, but your mind was at ease after the historic season behind you. “Yeah, we really did huh?” Paige shook her head in disbelief, grabbing your hand and walking you over to the car you guys had rented out for the trip. She opened your door for you, hopping in the driver's seat to drive you guys back to your hotel.

-

As soon as you guys got to the elevator, it was game over. The whole ride back, Paige’s hand found comfort on your thigh, softly toying a little too close to your core. Paige eagerly pushed the elevator button, grabbing your waist to pull you in. Her lips parting before shoving your hair over your shoulder, granting her access to your neck, sucking right below your ear. Your mouth parted as you let out soft hums, left hand reaching up and into her hair, while the other gripped her bicep. The muscle flexing, feeling like it could burst right through her tech’s sleeve. Somewhere along the way, her hand had found its way to your ass, kneading it while using it as a way to pull you in closer to her. Elevator dinging as you guys reached the floor you were staying on.

Urging Paige to your room, you made her detach from your neck, to your dismay. She followed you like a lost puppy, sneakily kissing your shoulder whenever she got the chance. You tapped your card to your room, shoving the door open as soon as it blinked green, dragging Paige in with you. You gasped as Paige shoved you against the door, pressing her leg in between your legs, resuming her action of leaving marks on your neck. Her hands unzipped your jacket, dragging it off your frame, guiding your arms around her shoulders. She ground you onto her thigh, and if your senses weren’t heightened by the blonde in front of you, you would’ve missed the “So proud of you baby.” that escaped from her pink lips. However, you longed for more, the kisses not helping with relieving the ache in between your legs, “Paige please, nmph, need you.” Paige pulled away, putting her hands on either side of your head, having her arms caging you in, “Yeah? Y’gonna show me how bad ma?” You move one of her arms, slipping away and towards the bed, you undress yourself, leaving you in a navy blue bra and underwear set, hooking your hands together behind you, slightly pushing your tits out. A lovesick face took over Paige’s features, “Fuck, we win like that, and my girl looks like this?” You nod, “Gotta give you the best, 31 points P? You have no idea how bad I was holding back in the locker room.” Smiling, you pull her by her sleeve, toying with the ties of her sweatpants. Silently asking if it was okay to undress her. She nods, and you start getting rid of the clothing, pulling her white tee up over her head, exposing her pink nipples to you, peaked from the antics between you two. You kept her boxers on, black waistband ending below her stomach. You ran your fingers over it, feeling the hardness of it.

She had you on her lap, your back flush against her chest, she was sat against the headboard. Her arm was snuggly wrapped around your throat, bicep pulling you backwards so your face was beside hers. Paige’s free hand unclasped your bra, the arm that was around your throat was the one she simultaneously used to pinch your nipple, you felt it hardening from the stimulation. “So pretty baby, imma get you right for those 25 points, yeah?” she whispered, kissing the side of your face after. “Mmm please, want that so badly.” You said. Paige snuck her hand down to your core, middle finger running through your slit over your underwear, circling your clit slowly, teasing you. Your hips bucked up at the motion, the throbbing from your cunt evident now, you shut your eyes tight, begging, “Please P, I did so good for you.” Referring to the way you played. Paige continued her ministrations on your pussy through your underwear, whispering directly into your ear, “Poor baby, I’m sorry, jus’ look so pretty for me, like this.” She quickly gives in though, peeling your underwear down to your knees, you shoved them off the rest of the way. Her arm quickly found its way back around your throat, she moved her hand assertively, touching your inner thighs. Her fingers swipe quickly through your soaked slit, accumulating slick, using it to circle your clit. She moves down, pushing two fingers in you to the hilt, curling upwards and into the spot that turns your brain fuzzy. “Yeah ma, take that shit.” You respond with a moan, leaning your head back onto her shoulder, “Paigeeeeee, f-feels so good baby.” You manage to get out, Paige repeatedly switches between pushing into you and rubbing your clit. You’re close, and Paige knows you, so she knows you’re close too. As you teeter the brink of release, she pulls away, biting your ear as she does so. She unhooks your arm from around your neck, and you whine frustrated with the lack of release. Paige loved having you this way, needy, and her in control of when you released.

Paige’s hands engulfed your waist, moving you off her lap, you turned around, finding her shoving off her boxers. She looks at you with glazed blue eyes, “So fine ma, got me soaked.” She spread her legs, the soft glow of the hotel lamp showing the abundance of wetness between her legs. “Wan’ you to ride me, need that shit right on me.” She took your hands in hers. You hooked your right leg over her left, and your left under her right, shoving your slicked cores together. You both moan with satisfaction, letting out whines while Paige groans at the feeling. Her hands find home on your waist, and yours grip her biceps, arm not fitting into your palm. You grind faster onto her, the wetness between you two aiding you to do so. Your clits align with each other, sending relief throughout you, causing you to moan, loud. “Fuck, Paige.” you call out, keeping that same angle to where your clits are aligned. Paige’s mouth is open now, pink lips swollen, eyes fixated on where your cores meet. “Yeah, ma. Y’gonna gimmie that cum?” You nod, willing to do anything to get her to release. “Listen to that shit, all for me huh? Pretty pussy’s all mine?” Your eyes close, and you hear yourself gushing, wet sounds coming from the both of you, the “silence” gives you time to find words before you can say, “Yeah P, baby it’s all yours.” Paige hums with approval, noticing you close to release again, “Ma? Wanna feel that shit gushing on me.” You gasp, her downright dirty words fueling the feeling in your abdomen, “Gonna cum for you P, promise.” You keep grinding, digging into her arms. Then you feel it, your climax taking over, squirming against her. “Ohhhhh fuck baby.” Paige gets out, still chasing her climax. You whine, overstimulation quickly taking over the pleasure, but as you look up, you realize Paige yearning for her release, so you keep grinding. You bring your hands to her nipples, pulling on them. She grips your waist tighter, guiding your pussy onto hers. Combined stimulation between her pussy and nipples makes her cum, “Yeah ma, gonna give that shit to you, fuck.” Her words make you cum along with her, holding each other as you both ride out your highs.

You eventually open your eyes, finding yourself face to face with Paige, laying down. Her hand strokes your cheek, “Can’t go without you ma, gonna use all my flight points to fly you out to Dallas.” She promises, and you smile, because you know you can’t go without her either.

[gtgbabie0]

{Sevika is a little more sensitive then she lets on and you just love to tease her}

Idk tying her up and eating her out ig?

!!-18//MDNI-!! My Masterlist is here <3

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Sevika was the more dominant one in the relationship, she loved to take control and give— to listen to your breaths become all shaky and to watch your pupils dilate with pure wanton desire because of her because she knew your body like the back of her damn hand, it made her feel a sense of pride, the type she could high on.

And you obviously didn’t complain, not when she was so incredibly attentive to every inch of your body in ways no other person was. In all honesty, you couldn’t even form words to say anything other than her name… over and over and over again.

Your mind would be too focused on the feeling of her strap slowly fucking into your wet cunt, from tip to base, the thickness stretching you out. It was always so mind-numbing, intense— the way her thumbs pushed into the fat of your inner thighs to keep them flushed against the mattress as she thrusts her hips, the bedsheets absolutely soaked.

Sevika got off on watching the way your greedy pussy practically swallowed her cock back in, squelching and gripping around the toy and she swears to death she could feel it. She “fucks you how you deserve” and it never fails to make you see stars— whether it was her fingers, tongue her strap.

And yeah the power trip was pretty dizzying but sometimes Sevika just loved to let her guard down and let you take the reins. I mean a girl likes to be wined and dined… and eaten out every so often, right?

She just wasn’t used to all this pampering you showered her with, it was a foreign concept one that she thought she didn’t really deserve— then you go and prove her wrong with that adoring glint in your eyes and a gentle hand against her cheek. “No baby, you deserve all of it. let me love you.” The words are whispered so gently that it makes her chest flutter and suddenly she doesn’t feel like a big tough criminal, no, just a woman madly, madly in love.

And god did you make her feel like the only woman in the world when you kiss your way down her body, hands caressing over the curves over her body, shedding her clothes until you’ve got your pretty face in between her thick thighs— making her head spin as pleasure takes over every thought that plagues her overworked mind.

“Your mouth is fuckin’ sin, baby.” She practically whines, all breathless, hips writhing against the bed— she can’t touch you, because somehow you’ve managed to convince her to let you tie her up with those red ropes… it was killing her but fuck if she didn’t look absolutely stunning.

You moan against her soaked cunt in acknowledgement, spreading her folds open with your tongue as you slowly lick along her labia and up to her clit, which you pepper with slow opened-mouth kisses— her hips bucking up into your mouth, desperate for more.

“Sev… don’t make me tie your hips down too.” You tut, pulling away to look up at her with a small frown— which causes her to whimper in disappointment—your lips and chin glistening with her desire.

The sound of her frustrated huffs puts a smirk on your face, watching as her head falls back against the pillows with a groan as you press your face back into her wet heat.

Her wrists, both metal and flesh, were bound against the headboard by the rough fabric that was far more durable than they looked— she’s tried to free herself multiple times, to bury her fingers in your hair and fuck your face but it was useless, she was at your mercy and in all honesty she loved it.

“Fucking hell— please baby, please” She pleads, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as you press your tongue flat against her clit, licking at her in a way that makes her body twitch.

It wasn’t like you’d been teasing her for hours, you literally not long slipped her boxers off and yet she was acting like you’d been edging her for the last five hours… and you absolutely loved it, knowing that the only thing on her mind was you and your mouth.

“Mm… you want my fingers, yeah?” You coo softly, looking up at her through your eyelashes to gauge her reaction as you continue to lick at her clit.

God she did, all she could get out was a messy string of “Fuck, yeah baby, please.” blabbering on and on, all whiny and desperate— it was a sight to see, the Sevika the most feared woman in Zaun in all her glory spread out on your bed, tied up, whining and moaning just for you.

Then you’re plunging your middle and ring fingers into her slick cunt, thrusting them in tandem with your tongue on her clit— your free hand rubbing over her thigh and along the shape of her writhing hips. The way she moans out your name shoots a tingle down your spine, a familiar throb of need between your legs has you grinding down against the mattress needily.

Sevika is so sensitive, it doesn’t take you much to turn her on and right now she’s soaking your hand— her walls clenching around your digits as she struggles against the ropes binding her wrists, head thrown back against the pillows, arching into you, practically panting.

“So beautiful Sev with my fingers stuffed in your pussy, so greedy.” You smirk against her, adding your index into her just to prove your point, stretching her out, and the rough, broken moan that escapes her parted lips causes a surge of pride to buzz through your chest.

“Don’t hold back baby, you deserve it.” Whispered hotly against her clit as she follows the slow and meticulous curl of your fingers— practically grinding her pussy against your mouth until she’s gushing around your three fingers, drenching your palm whilst your tongue works against her clit.

You work her through it until she’s lying boneless against the pillows with laboured breaths— completely and utterly spent, shuddering slightly as you pull your digits out.

Sevika watches you press a kiss to her inner thigh, then another to her hip— her eyes never leaving you as you kiss your way back up along her body, straddling her lower abdomen as you lick your fingers clean and she can feel how drenched your panties have become, that gets to her and suddenly she's turned on all again.

“Feeling good?” You ask with such sweetness in your tone as if you hadn't just fingered her, leaning over slightly to undo the ropes around her wrists— she chuckles hoarsely in response.

Her hands immediately grasp your hips, feeling up the curves of your soft body greedily— the roughness of her palm sets a blaze to your skin which is cooled down by the metal of her other, all of it makes your spine tingle with need. “Mm, your turn baby.” She smirks, fingers curling around your jaw as she pulls you down against her, your chest pressed to her own. Her heart flutters at the giggle you let out, sweet like honey as she kisses you sloppily, tasting herself on your lips, before pushing you back against the mattress ready to return the favour tenfold…

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[charliemwrites]

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

Content: Voyeurism

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

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Masterlist

[pierregazly]

every lifetime with you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x leclerc!f!reader

part 2 to but mama, i love him

warnings: charles is kind of ignorant (in a jerk big brother way), oscar is so disgustingly in love (aka tooth-rotting) [wc: 2.1k]

the one where oscar finally faces family dinner with the leclerc's... and it goes exactly how everyone expected. (oscar just really loves his girlfriend, and really doesn't care what her brother's say about it).

Sunday night dinners, when everyone was able to attend, were a staple in the Leclerc family home. Even as a young girl, one thing you always remembered was Pascale ensuring everyone promised to be home in time for dinner on Sunday. And of course, no one wanted to disappoint Maman.  

Things had, of course, changed as Charles’ and Arthur’s involvement in motorsports grew, as Lorenzo became more involved in his own line of work. But you always put the effort in to make your way back to your childhood home, even if it was just Maman and yourself.  

When Oscar slowly started integrating himself into your life, Pascale was the first person to find out; interrogating you over Sunday night dinner, learning everything she could about the young Australian who had taken over her only daughter’s heart. She always encouraged you to invite him to Sunday dinner, insisting that the boys would be on their best behaviour, and there would be no blood or tears shed - from anyone.  

Which was exactly how you found yourself here, Oscar staring out at your childhood home, his hands steady with a tight grip on the steering wheel in front of him.  

“Maman would not be too happy if you brought the steering wheel in with you. She doesn’t enjoy car talk on Sunday’s, mon amour,” you said, tapping one of his tense hands with a finger.  

Unlacing his fingers from around the wheel, Oscar turned towards you with a timid smile.  

“You see Charles weekly; you practically grew up alongside Artie. It’ll be fine, Osc.” 

Shaking his head immediately, “I’m not concerned about your brothers. They don’t scare me.” 

Quirking an eyebrow at him, your only response was a shrug of your shoulders as you pulled yourself up and out of the car. Following your lead, the two of you walked up the driveway, passing your brother’s cars in the process. Pushing open the front door, you were instantly greeted by the variety of smells that could usually be contributed to Sunday dinner, the aroma invading your nostrils and prompting a smile to pull across your lips.  

Pascale Leclerc’s face greeted you the moment you turned the corner into the foyer, a happy grin across her lit up cheeks. 

“Oh, mon bébé! Regarde comme tu es belle,” she said, wrapping her arms around you tightly. (Oh, my baby! Look at how beautiful you are.) 

Eagerly wrapping your own arms around her, you inhaled her comforting scent, happy to be home and in the arms of the most important person in your life since birth.  

Turning towards Oscar, the large smile on Pascale’s face did not waver. “Oscar, hello! It is so lovely to finally meet you.” 

The moment of hesitation on Oscar’s part meant Pascale had already wrapped her arms around him before he could even blink, pressing a kiss to each cheek and then pulling back with a smile.  

“Lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc. Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Oscar said.  

Pascale waved him off, loud voices filtering into the foyer as the three Leclerc boys made their presence known. 

“Regarde ce que le chat traînait,” Arthur said, his eyes pinning onto Oscar’s frame. (Look what the cat dragged in). 

“Non, we will not be speaking French tonight. You know the rules. Do not be rude, Arthur,” Pascale admonished, sending a glare to her youngest son.  

“What do the English say? Execution by fire? Best way for Oscar to learn, non?” Charles said, looking towards his brothers for confirmation. 

Snorting at his words, “No, you idiot. It’s baptism by fire. Don’t be a jerk, Cha.”  

His eyes swiveled over to meet yours, a mock glare present on his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. My apologies, perhaps if I’d be able to speak French, I’d be able to use the actual sayings.”  

Pascale’s glare whipped towards her middle son, her hand gently tapping on Oscar’s shoulder as she directed him towards the dining room.  

“Charles Marc Hervé, I’d encourage you to watch your tone. Your ignorance is not appreciated, I’m sure your sister has already begun teaching Oscar French, you of all people should know it is not easy to learn a new language as a young man. Do not be rude.”  

Almost immediately, the scolding evidently struck a chord in Charles, his cheeks brightening as he mumbled out an apology.  

“Certaines choses ne changent jamais, hm, Charles?” you whispered in his direction, sticking your tongue out at him. (Some things never change, hm, Charles?) 

“Ma petite fleur, don’t antagonize your brother.” Sticking his tongue back out at you in response, Charles skirted away as you moved your hand to smack his shoulder. 

The table had been set like all previous Sundays before that, the only difference being the extra setup beside you, cutlery and plates laid out for the Australian’s benefit.  

“Is there anything I can help with, Mrs. Leclerc?” Oscar said, ignoring Arthur as he silently imitated him, a grin falling onto your brother’s cheeks as he plopped down in his unofficial seat. 

“Just Pascale, s’il vous plaît. And non, Alexandra and Charlotte kindly helped with everything already. You are too kind to offer, Oscar,” she responded, a large smile overtaking her lips.  

“You are too kind to offer, Oscar.” 

“Don’t be rude, Artie. Maman can still take you out of this world, right, Maman?”  

Nodding her head in agreement, Pascale whacked the man in question over the head with a tea towel. Placing the final dish of food on the table, the matriarch of the Leclerc family gestured for everyone to sit, all remaining members of the room taking their seats.  

The usual pre-dinner rituals were conducted, Oscar politely engaging in all of them to the best of his ability.  

As the chatter began to pick up around the table, you could feel your anxiety spike every time your eyes wandered over to one of your brothers. For the fact two of them had driven alongside your brother more than once, all three eyed him up every opportunity they could. 

“So, shall we discuss the elephant in the room?” 

“Is it the toxic smell of your cologne, Cha? I’ve been wanting to talk about it for years,” you quipped.  

Lorenzo stifled a snort at your words, shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth as he eyed the both of you.  

“Shut up, you know what I mean. Oscar, what are your intentions? Is this some secret McLaren sabotage thing?”  

You couldn’t tell if Charles was serious, your eyes widening as you scrambled for what to say in response. 

“Not everything’s about racing, mate. I could care less about McLaren or Ferrari or whatever, when I’m with your sister. There’s more to life, evidently,” shrugging at his own words, Oscar continued to shovel food into his mouth. 

You could barely contain the internal swooning at his words, your hand gently squeezing Oscar’s thigh as you smiled at him in response. Lightly squeezing your hand back, both of you looked up at the sound of a groan from across the table.  

“This is going to make me throw up, truly. Maman, please let me speak French to articulate how disgusted I am at this,” Arthur mockingly gagged, his eyes pleading for his mother to accept his request. 

Pascale ignored her youngest son’s dramatics, turning her head in Oscar’s direction instead. 

“Oscar, dear… I’ve heard the story of how you and my daughter began dating from her view, I must hear it from yours as well. It’s such a lovely story,” Pascale practically cooed, prompting instant eye rolls from all her children sitting around the table. 

“Yes, Oscar. Tell us all how you corrupted our sister. Please.” 

The urge to hit both Arthur and Charles grew with every little quip and comment they felt necessary to make. Before you even had the opportunity to retaliate, you saw Charles wince, his head swiveling towards his girlfriend in dismay.  

“Enough, mon amour. Tonight is not about you,” she said, a smile being directed towards you after the fact.  

The Australian beside you cleared his throat before he began, gently squeezing your knee in the process.  

“I’m sure she tells it far better than I do, but I can give it a whirl. Racing with Arthur for so long, I think we knew of each other but didn’t really… know each other? Obviously, we had run into each other at different racing events throughout the years and exchanged polite small talk, but it wasn’t really until the Monaco Grand Prix last year where we really had the opportunity to get to know each other.” 

Oscar was quick to shovel more food into his mouth before continuing his story. 

“I was trying to avoid all the interviewers and Sky Sports presenters on the Grid and ended up running right into her. All I knew is one second, I was running, next second I had barreled someone over and was holding their head from smacking against the concrete,” you could hear Alex and Charlotte cooing out soft ‘aw’s’ from their side of the table at his words. 

“Thank those quick driver reflexes, hm?” Arthur joked. Multiple heads around the table nodded in response. 

“I guess it sort of went from there. She, of course, had to give me a hard time for trying to ‘kill her’ as she so kindly says all the time. I offered to make it up to her... we ended up going for dinner after the race, and I suppose the rest is history. Thank God for Monaco, of course.” 

“Oh, so you’re the reason my sister didn’t attend family dinner after I got knocked down for supposedly impeding your teammate?” Charles quipped. 

Huffing towards your brother, before you even got the chance to snap at him, you were cut off. 

“Charles, shut up. We didn’t have family dinner after Monaco, you were miserable and I’m pretty sure you said some very nasty things to our family group chat which almost had Maman in tears. We didn’t have family dinner for weeks after that, so shut up, and let Oscar finish his story. Merde,” Lorenzo said, shooting a glare towards his youngest brother. 

Oscar looked towards you, silently questioning whether he should continue or not. Squeezing his knee in confirmation again, the Australian continued. 

“She ended up coming to visit me during summer break, and things became official from there. It’s been the best seven months of my life, I couldn’t imagine my life without that day in Monaco, now,” he looked towards you as he finished his story, a soft smile on his lips as you looked back at him adoringly. 

“I’d let you run me over in every lifetime, mon amour.” 

The two of you were caught in your own little world, your eyes locked on one another’s, small smiles gracing both of your lips. Missing the small look between your mother and brothers, Charles begrudgingly accepting defeat, Arthur eager to find some way to make a joke at the expense of both of you, Lorenzo simply content to see his baby sister happy.  

Maman, though... the sheer delight was evident in her eyes, a small sheen covering them and her lash line as she watched the two of you silently interact.  

The night continued, the honeymoon phase between you and Oscar so obvious, so prominent. He took advantage of any chance he could get to press a kiss to your head, to your head, to your cheeks, and especially to your lips. All respectfully, of course, but he couldn’t take his eyes or hands off you.  

Charles took his chance to corner the younger driver, threatening a world of hurt and sabotage if anything were to ever happen to you, physically or emotionally. Oscar’s nonchalant response of “Yes, alright mate. Whatever you say, of course,” further antagonized your brother.  

It was Maman’s acceptance that Oscar was most concerned about though, eagerly asking you once the two of you were back in his car, whether you thought she liked him. You were positive the answer was a resounding yes, especially after watching Pascale squeeze him tightly in a hug, pressing a kiss to each cheek again – and then proceeding to whisper in your ear how happy she was that you had found a man who loved you so incredibly much.  

Later that night, when both of you were curled up in bed, your legs intertwined, and your head pressed against his chest, his heart beating below your ear... you knew. There was no place you would rather be. No person you would rather be in love with or loved by. 

“In every lifetime, Osc, I want to be the person you’re in love with. Promise me that I will be?” 

“I already promised you every lifetime, mon amour. I will choose you, always.” 

sorry but oscar is absolutely the one guy on the grid who loves his girlfriend so much and would probably actually die for her... so he's a total simp and would take on all three of the leclerc brother's for lerclerc!reader.

anyways i hope you guys loved this, as much as i loved writing it 🫶🏻

as always, my requests are currently closed but if you have any recommendations for things you'd like for me to write... i'm happy to take them on. please feel free to interact with me whenever you want also!!

[goldfades]

baby shower! | JOE BURROW⁹ [003]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your baby shower gets a little overwhelming for you and joe.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | pregnancy mentions/descriptions, doting mothers, arguments, slight hurt to comfort, joe standing up for you like the man he is, a sweet little heart to heart at the end there.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍, but the second you stepped into Maisie’s meticulously decorated living room, you knew it was going to be anything but relaxing.

“Where’s the punch? Who put the finger sandwiches there? They’ll block the dessert table’s aesthetic!” Maisie’s voice rang out like a battle cry, cutting through the soft hum of conversation and the tinkling notes of an instrumental playlist she’d personally curated. She zipped by in a blur of pastel pink and blue, her hands clutching a checklist that looked more intimidating than your OB-GYN’s appointment schedule.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the nausea that had plagued you all morning still simmering low in your stomach. The room, while beautifully decorated with clouds of balloons and a sprawling “Oh Baby!” banner, felt uncomfortably warm.

“Sit down, sweetheart!” your mom chirped, swooping in like a hawk in a lavender sweater set. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and guided you toward the plush loveseat near the fireplace. “You shouldn’t be on your feet too much, especially not with that glow,” she said, her tone sweet but with the underlying force of someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you assured her weakly, but it was pointless. Robin, Joe’s mom, appeared out of nowhere with a plate of fruit skewers and a cup of sparkling water.

“You need to stay hydrated,” Robin said with the kind of motherly authority that left no room for argument. “And these are good for the baby—full of vitamins.”

You offered her a tight-lipped smile, though the thought of eating anything right now made your stomach churn.

“Robin, don’t hover too much,” your mom chided playfully, though she was already fluffing a throw pillow and tucking it behind your lower back. “She’s got to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable,” you lied, shifting awkwardly in your seat.

The truth was, you were anything but comfortable. Your dress—a flowy, neutral-colored number Maisie had practically forced on you—clung in all the wrong places. Your lower back ached from the extra weight you were carrying, and the wave of nausea that had become your constant companion wasn’t helped by the sugary smell wafting from the dessert table.

Maisie stormed back into view, muttering something about the confetti placement being “all wrong.” She paused just long enough to point a manicured finger at you.

“Are you feeling okay? Do you need a fan? A bucket? A full-on evacuation plan?” she asked, her tone frantic but laced with genuine concern.

You forced a laugh. “I’m fine, Maisie. Promise.”

Maisie narrowed her eyes at you like she didn’t quite believe it, but before she could press further, someone called her name from the kitchen. With a dramatic sigh, she marched off, her checklist clutched to her chest like a lifeline.

“I don’t think she’s slept in a week,” you murmured to your mom, who chuckled softly.

“She’s excited,” Robin said, sitting down beside you. “We all are. This baby is going to be so loved.” Her expression softened, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of Joe in her—the same quiet intensity in her eyes, the same way her smile felt like a reassurance.

The thought of Joe brought a small pang of guilt. He’d been hesitant about the whole baby shower thing, mumbling something about how it was more of a “girl thing.” You’d convinced him to make a brief appearance later for the gift opening, but he’d spent the morning at the gym, promising to show up “cleaned up and ready to charm.”

A sudden wave of queasiness hit you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You shifted uncomfortably, hoping no one noticed, but of course, both moms were on you in an instant.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked, leaning forward.

“You look pale,” your mom added, her hand flying to your forehead.

“I’m just—ugh.” You rubbed at your temple, willing the sensation to pass. “I think it’s just the heat in here. Or the smell of those sandwiches. Or maybe the fact that I’m growing a whole human.”

Robin smiled knowingly. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? The shower, the attention… It can be a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, sinking further into the loveseat.

Your mom glanced toward the kitchen, where Maisie was now rearranging cupcakes with the intensity of a bomb squad technician. “Should we get you some fresh air?” she suggested.

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be okay. I think I just need a minute.”

Robin squeezed your hand. “Take all the time you need, honey. The important thing is that you and the baby are okay.”

The baby. The words still sent a jolt through you every time someone said them, a mix of excitement and terror that hadn’t quite settled. Across the yard, Maisie was now directing a small army of family members and friends, her voice rising above the chatter. “No, the games go over there! Do you want to ruin the flow of the whole party?!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite your discomfort. “She’s really taking this seriously,” you said, nodding in Maisie’s direction.

Robin followed your gaze and let out a soft laugh. “She’s been texting me about this shower for weeks. I think she might have more anxiety about it than you do about the baby.”

Your mom leaned in conspiratorially. “She’s been calling me every other night. Last week, she spent twenty minutes debating the merits of a candy bar diaper game versus baby bingo.”

“God bless her,” you said, shaking your head with a small laugh. “She’s going to need a vacation after this.”

Just then, Maisie appeared at your side, clipboard clutched tightly to her chest. “Okay, so the photo booth is almost ready, but the props guy still hasn’t shown up, and I don’t think the centerpiece on the gift table is centered—”

“Maisie,” Robin interrupted gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Take a breath. Everything looks beautiful.”

Maisie’s eyes darted around the yard, clearly skeptical. “You think so? Because the balloons over by the cake table are kind of deflating, and I—”

“Maisie,” you said, cutting her off with a soft smile. “It’s perfect. Really. You’ve done an amazing job.”

She hesitated, then exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Okay,” she said, though she still looked unconvinced. “But if you need anything—literally anything—you call me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said with a mock salute, earning a small laugh from her before she disappeared again.

The laughter was short-lived, though, as another sharp pang of nausea rolled through you. You set the water glass down, pressing a hand to your stomach and trying to breathe through it.

Robin noticed immediately. “Do you want to lie down?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the edges of your voice wavered.

Your mom frowned. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest.”

“Really, I’m—”

“Stubborn as ever,” Robin finished for you with a knowing look. “Joe’s going to lose it if he finds out you’ve been feeling like this all day.”

You shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position, and sighed. This was going to be a long day.

┈┈┈

The presents were stacked like a small mountain beside the chair they’d designated as your throne for the day. Wrapped in pastel pinks, yellows, and greens, each box and bag felt like a tiny piece of your future waiting to be unveiled. Joe stood beside you, his tall frame just brushing the edge of the canopy Maisie had insisted on. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, a small furrow etched into his brow as his eyes flicked over the gathered crowd.

You could tell he was overstimulated. The constant buzz of chatter, the occasional bursts of laughter, the sharp crinkle of wrapping paper—it was all pressing in on him, but he stayed rooted to your side. Every now and then, his hand would brush against your shoulder, a silent reassurance for both of you that you weren’t in this alone.

“Alright!” Maisie clapped her hands together, clipboard abandoned for once as she orchestrated the gift-opening session. “Let’s see what this baby is getting spoiled with!”

The first gift was handed to you by Robin, who looked as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. The pink and white polka-dotted bag was adorned with delicate tissue paper, which you pulled away to reveal an impossibly tiny pink onesie. Across the front, in glittering gold letters, it read: Daddy’s Girl.

The room collectively cooed, but you caught the way Joe’s lips twitched into a barely-there smile. He wasn’t a big fan of being the center of attention, but even he couldn’t deny how adorable the onesie was.

Robin leaned in, beaming. “I saw it and couldn’t resist. Something told me it was just perfect.”

“Thanks, Robin,” you said warmly, holding it up for everyone to see before setting it aside.

The next gift was from one of Joe’s teammates, and as you pulled apart the wrapping, you found a set of miniature footballs—one of them signed by Joe himself. A wave of laughter swept through the crowd, and Joe shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little more.

“Thought the kid should start practicing early,” the teammate said with a grin.

The gifts kept coming, each one a mix of sweet, practical, and downright extravagant. There were blankets so soft they felt like clouds, a high-tech baby monitor that you didn’t even know existed, and enough stuffed animals to populate a small zoo.

One of your aunts presented a ruffled pink dress with matching booties, holding it up dramatically for everyone to admire. “She’s going to be the belle of the ball,” she declared.

Maisie, standing off to the side with a skeptical expression, muttered, “Or he’s going to look like a very fashionable dude.”

You tried to stifle a laugh as you moved to the next box, this one from your mom. The neatly wrapped package revealed a handmade quilt, each patch lovingly stitched with little images—stars, moons, teddy bears, and tiny footballs.

“Mom,” you said, your voice catching slightly. “This is beautiful.”

She smiled, her eyes glistening. “Every baby deserves a little piece of love to keep them warm.”

Joe reached out then, brushing his fingers over one of the patches. “It’s really nice, Mrs.—uh, Mom,” he said, the slip into the familial title earning a few approving murmurs from the crowd.

The pile dwindled down to the last few gifts, including one from Maisie, who handed over a bag that was conspicuously neutral compared to the sea of pink surrounding it. You opened it to find a set of gender-neutral onesies in shades of gray and white, each one emblazoned with cheeky slogans like Mom’s Favorite and Future MVP.

“Finally,” Maisie said with a mock sigh. “Someone acknowledges that this baby might not actually be a girl.”

Joe let out a small chuckle at that, his first real laugh of the day. You glanced up at him, grateful for the way he stayed close even though the chaos was clearly wearing on him.

The last gift was from one of your mom’s friends—a pale pink rocking horse, complete with a little saddle and reins. The room erupted into a collective “aww,” but you couldn’t help but notice the way Joe’s jaw tightened just slightly.

It wasn’t a big reaction, but you knew him well enough to catch it. He was overwhelmed, overstimulated, and probably thinking too hard about everything that was happening and what it all meant. You reached out, brushing your fingers against his hand, and he looked down at you, his expression softening instantly.

┈┈┈

The room was still a hum of chatter and laughter long after the gifts had been opened, everyone lingering in clusters to admire the pile of baby treasures and speculate about the baby’s future. At first, it was endearing—watching the people you cared about get so invested in the new life you were bringing into the world.

But as the conversations grew louder and the attention lingered, a familiar unease began to creep in.

Robin held up the tiny pink dress your aunt had gifted, spinning it in her hands as though she were imagining a little girl already toddling around in it. “She’s going to be the most darling thing this side of Cincinnati,” she declared, her voice carrying over the murmur of voices.

“Or,” your mom interjected, “maybe he’ll be the most handsome boy in town.” She shot Robin a teasing smile, but there was a sharpness to the exchange.

“You really think it’s a boy?” Robin asked, eyebrows arched.

“Mother’s intuition,” your mom replied with a confident nod.

“Don’t you think the pink onesie says otherwise?” one of Joe’s aunts chimed in, holding it up like it was a smoking gun.

Maisie, seated on the arm of a chair nearby, caught your eye with a subtle shake of her head, as if to say Don’t engage. You appreciated her silent support, but the voices around you were getting harder to tune out.

“I’m telling you, it’s a girl,” Robin insisted, crossing her arms like she was laying down a bet.

“And I’m telling you,” your mom countered, “it’s a boy. We’ll see who’s right when the baby gets here.”

Other voices joined in, speculating wildly about who the baby might take after, what their personality would be, whether they’d follow in Joe’s footsteps or carve out their own path. The noise was starting to press against your temples, the endless back-and-forth making the air in the room feel too thick.

Joe, still standing beside you, had gone silent. His hands were back in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the floor, and you could tell he was holding himself together for your sake.

“Alright, alright,” one of his teammates piped up with a grin. “How about a little wager? Fifty bucks says it’s a girl.”

“Make it a hundred,” someone else called out, and the laughter that followed was the final straw.

The knot in your chest tightened, and your hands clenched in your lap. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes—not from sadness, but from sheer overwhelm. The room felt too bright, the voices too loud, and the well-meaning opinions too much.

Before you could say anything, Joe’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“Enough,” he said, his tone sharp but steady. The room fell silent instantly, all eyes turning to him.

Joe looked up, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with frustration. “This isn’t a betting pool. It’s not a game. Can everyone just… be considerate for once? She’s already dealing with enough without you all making it worse.”

The weight of his words lingered in the room, and the silence that followed was heavy but blessedly calm. Your mom looked sheepish, Robin muttered something about “just having fun,” and even the most boisterous of Joe’s teammates had the decency to look a little ashamed.

You glanced up at Joe, your heart swelling at the way he’d stepped in for you, even when you knew he was barely holding it together himself.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustle of the room.

He looked down at you then, his expression softening as he saw the gratitude in your eyes. He gave you a small nod, one of his hands brushing against your shoulder again as if to remind you he was there.

The moment was brief, but it was enough to ground you. Even in the midst of all the chaos, Joe had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay.

The house finally quieted as the last of your guests shuffled out the door, their voices trailing into the evening air. Inside, Maisie and Ja'Marr were clinking dishes together in the kitchen, tackling the mountain of cleanup like the MVPs they were. You’d tried to protest earlier, but Maisie had waved you off with a glare sharp enough to make you sit back down.

Now, you stood on the back porch, the cool night breeze brushing against your face. The chaos of the day felt distant here—muted, softened by the hum of crickets and the faint rustle of leaves. You leaned against the railing, one hand resting absentmindedly on your growing belly, and let out a breath you felt like you’d been holding for hours.

Joe was a quiet presence next to you, leaning on the railing with his forearms, his broad shoulders slightly slumped. He’d changed into a soft hoodie and sweats after the last guest left, his game-day persona stripped away, leaving only the guy you knew best—the one who rarely said much but whose silences spoke volumes.

“Hell of a day,” he muttered after a moment, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the last streaks of sunlight bled into the dark.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”

He glanced over, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. “You okay?”

The question was simple, but the way he asked it—soft, almost hesitant—made your chest tighten. You hesitated, trying to figure out how to sum up the whirlwind of emotions.

“Yeah,” you said finally, your voice quiet. “Just… a lot. The attention, the opinions, the arguing. It gets overwhelming, you know?”

Joe nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. “Yeah, I get it.”

You tilted your head to look at him, studying his profile in the fading light. There was a tension in his jaw, a lingering weariness in his eyes, and you realized he was still carrying the weight of the day too.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “For stepping in earlier. I know you’re not big on… all of this, but it meant a lot.”

He shrugged one shoulder, but the way his lips pressed into a thin line told you he was more affected than he let on. “It’s my job to take care of you. Both of you.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a hint of something raw beneath it—an edge of vulnerability he rarely let show.

Your hand drifted to his arm, fingers curling gently around his sleeve. “You already do, more than you know.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the quiet stretching out between you like a warm blanket. The air smelled faintly of grass and the lingering sweetness of cake from inside, and you let yourself sink into the stillness.

“You ever think about how different life’s gonna be?” Joe asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Different how?”

He straightened, leaning back against the railing as he turned to face you. “I mean… everything. A baby changes everything. There’s no going back to how it was before. And as much as I’m ready to be a dad…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes it just… hits me, you know? Like, are we really ready for this?”

The honesty in his words tugged at something deep inside you. “I think it’s okay not to feel ready all the time,” you said, your voice gentle. “I don’t think anyone ever really is. But we’ve got each other, Joe. That’s enough.”

His eyes met yours then, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. He reached out, his hand brushing against yours before curling around it, his touch warm and grounding.

“You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” he said quietly.

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard against the wave of emotion. “And you’re going to be the best dad.”

Joe chuckled, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll try. Guess that’s all we can do, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, your fingers lacing with his.

The night deepened around you, the stars beginning to poke through the inky sky, and you stayed there together, leaning on each other in the quiet. Inside, you could hear Maisie bossing Ja’Marr around as they finished up the cleanup, her voice a familiar, grounding presence.

For now, this moment was yours—just the two of you, standing at the edge of a new chapter, not knowing what lay ahead but knowing you’d face it together.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[morganbritton132]

I’m thinking about Steve’s mom in the context of this AU I’m (apparently) creating where Steve is the affair baby that broke up his much older half-siblings’ family.

Put yourself in the shoes that his mother would’ve been in. You’re nineteen. You have no education and you’re working your first real job. You start an affair with your boss - who is the father of the friend that got you the job - because you’re young and you think you’re in love, and you don’t think of the consequences.

Suddenly, you’re pregnant and he’s leaving his wife for you, and you still think you’re in love so you follow his lead. You’re nasty to his first wife because he is and you’re insecure because she nothing but nice to you. Her children hate you but Richard says that they’ll get over it so you believe him. They never do.

Then you’re married and you have access to more money than you’ve ever had in your life, and you’re in love. And you’re a mother. He sleeps through your delivery but everything is okay when you hold your little boy.

You know that things have changed now. That you’ll do everything in your power to make sure this little boy makes it in the big scary world. You promise yourself that you’ll do anything for him.

The baby cries, and you cry, and you thought things would be different and that you’d know what to do, but you really don’t. You don’t feel a connection with your baby beyond wanting to protect him, and you hate this. You hate being a mother. You hate this constant failing.

Richard is never home. He still works long hours but you’re no longer at the office with him. He seems completely disinterested in being a father and less interested in you playing mother, and you’re not stupid.

You know he left his wife for a younger, more attractive woman. You know he fell in love with you because you’re passionate, you’re fun, and you haven’t been that in a while.

You stood smug and happy by his side while he tried to take everything in the divorce, and you know his first wife has more money and influence than you. You know she has lawyers and you don’t. You don’t know what happens to you if he wants a newer model. You don’t know what happens to your son but you think he’ll try to take him from you.

Richard doesn’t want to be married to a mother, so you stop being one. You have to for the marriage to survive and it feels like guilt to be relieved by that. You’re not his secretary anymore, but his assistant. You travel with him and you join the right committees. You join the walking club and you shed the last of the baby weight, and he loves more than he ever has.

And you’re happy but you’re not in love.

It was too easy to pass motherhood onto Richard’s daughter, onto the nanny. It was easy to sidestep into the role of ‘friend,’ so you befriend your son.

Not a close friend. Not in any way that would make Richard feel like he wasn’t your world, but you’re there. You know the drama currently happening on the basketball team but not that your baby is failing English. You go on spa dates and make a whole day out of getting your hair cut together, but you don’t discipline him. Richard does that.

Then one day, you come home from the Poconos and your son has bruises on his face and bandages on his fingers, and a haunted vacant look in his eyes. He job was a pile of burning rubble when you drove into town. You asks what happened and if he’s alright, and he’s gives you the same smile you’ve been wearing for years, “Everything’s great, ma.”

[p0orbaby]

Silver Linings

summary: you’ve had a baby and you’ve had enough, you want your wife, goddammit!

warnings: SMUT 18+, just sex alright, im too lazy to read back and see what there is

a/n: thanks for the request !

word count: 1.2k

-

You’re lying in bed, counting the new cracks in the ceiling. You’re convinced they’ve multiplied since the baby was born. Or maybe it’s just that you’re always staring up these days, wishing for sleep. You read somewhere that the Spanish government once paid people to make babies. But they don’t mention how they don’t pay enough for someone to come and take the baby off your hands every now and then.

But who’s counting?

Alexia’s beside you, scrolling through her phone like it owes her money. She’s wearing that ridiculous sleep shirt with Messi’s face on it—some joke you don’t quite understand but one that involves a poorly executed bet, a late-night purchase, and more tequila than you’d care to remember. You’re not sure what makes you more irritated: the shirt or the fact that she looks hot in it. Even with the dark circles under her eyes.

You clear your throat, trying to get her attention. It’s like trying to wake a bear from hibernation. She just grunts and scrolls faster.

“Hey, Messi’s number one fan,” you say, nudging her with your foot. “Put the phone down before you sprain your thumb”

She glances over at you, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but there’s a flicker of interest there. “What? You wanna talk about our feelings now?”

“No, I want to talk about the state of our sex life,” you reply, deadpan. “Which is currently on life support”

Alexia raises an eyebrow, finally putting her phone down on the nightstand. “Oh? You wanna do something about that?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool, but the truth is, you’ve been thinking about this all day. Well, between the nappy changes, the feedings, and trying to remember when the last time you showered was.

“I mean, we probably should. Before the baby wakes up and finds out we’re trying to have fun”

Alexia grins, a little too wickedly for someone who’s supposed to be sleep-deprived. “You know, I’ve been waiting for you to say something. It’s like you read my mind”

“Oh yeah? Was it before or after you ordered that new strap?”

She laughs, the sound low and throaty. “Before. Definitely before. The new strap was just… insurance”

“Insurance?” you snort. “You mean like how some people buy a fire extinguisher for their kitchen?”

“Exactly. You never know when you’re going to need it”

You’re laughing now, genuinely, and it feels good. It feels like the first real laugh you’ve had in weeks. Maybe months. The kind that shakes off the dust that’s settled between the two of you, the kind that makes you remember why you fell for her in the first place.

She’s already moving, shedding the Messi shirt in one smooth move. There’s something almost ceremonial about the way she does it, as if she’s readying herself for battle. You swallow hard, the familiar heat building in your belly. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but tired, anything but stretched too thin.

When she climbs back into bed, she’s got that glint in her eye that says she’s up to no good. “You ready for this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “For you to pretend you know what you’re doing?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she kisses you, hard and possessive. It’s all teeth and tongue, a little desperate, a little sloppy, but it’s enough to make your toes curl. You gasp into her mouth when her hands start to roam, fingers grazing over your still-sensitive skin. Everything’s too much and not enough, and you can’t help the little whimper that escapes your lips.

“Easy,” she murmurs against your mouth. “We’ve got all night”

“Yeah, until the baby wakes up and decides to serenade us with her cries,” you mutter, but you’re already arching into her touch.

“You’re right,” she says, her voice dropping an octave, sending shivers down your spine. “We better make this quick”

You laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan as she kisses her way down your body, her hands gripping your thighs like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold on tight. You’ve missed this, missed her. Not just the sex, but the connection, the way she makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world, even when you’re surrounded by chaos.

When she finally reaches into her bedside table and pulls out the strap, the new one, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

She just smirks. “I told you. Insurance”

“Right,” you say, but your breath catches in your throat when she presses the tip against you, the cool silicone a stark contrast to your overheated skin. You’re sensitive, achingly so, and the stretch of it has you chaining air, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“Too much?” she asks, her voice softening for the first time tonight.

You shake your head, biting your lip as you try to focus on the sensation, the delicious burn that’s equal parts pleasure and pain. “No, it’s… it’s good. Really good”

She moves slowly, deliberately, and you can tell she’s trying to be gentle, trying not to overwhelm you. But there’s a tension in her body, a barely contained need that mirrors your own, and it’s not long before she’s thrusting harder, her hands gripping your hips, tethering you to the earth.

It’s overwhelming, the way she fills you up, the way she looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly, the pressure building to a breaking point. It’s almost too much, too intense, but you can’t stop yourself from chasing that high, from wanting more.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your nails raking down her back. “I’m gonna—”

But before you can finish, she shifts her angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and it’s like a dam breaking. You come apart with a strangled cry, your body trembling with the force of it, and she’s right there with you, whispering filthy praise into your ear, her voice raw with desire.

When it’s over, you’re both a mess, caught in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat. You can barely catch your breath, but there’s a satisfied smile on your face, one that mirrors hers. It’s not perfect, it’s not the earth-shattering, movie-ending kind of sex, but it’s real. And that’s enough.

As you lie there, trying to remember how to form coherent thoughts, she pulls you close, her arm draped over your waist. “We should do this more often,” she says, her voice sleepy but content.

“Yeah,” you murmur, already half-asleep. “If we ever get the chance”

But for now, you’re content to just lie here, basking in the afterglow, knowing that you’ve still got each other. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to get you through the sleepless nights and endless nappy changes.

As you start to drift off, you hear the faint sound of the baby stirring in the next room. You groan, burying your face in Alexia’s neck. “Your turn”

She laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Fine, but only because you did all the hard work”

You snort, but you can’t help but smile as she slips out of bed, pulling on the Messi shirt once more. As she heads out to tend to the baby, you close your eyes, feeling more at peace than you have in weeks. Maybe even months.

[azuredawn81]

could you please write a jack hughes x reader? just like cute domestic fluff nothing fancy ♡

picket fence | jack hughes x fem!reader

♡ summary: in a spur of the moment decision, jack and his girlfriend y/n get married without telling anyone.

♡ pairing: jack hughes x reader

♡ content: fluff, jack being jack

♡ word count: 1K

♡ warnings: none

♡ italics are flashbacks

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“do you think your mom will be mad?” she asked, staring up at jack.

“oh for sure.”

“do you think my mom will be mad?”

“can’t say. never met her.”

he picked her up bridal style and walked to the car. her white cocktail dress creasing a little as he set her down on the passenger seat.

“i can’t believe how lucky i am.”

“i think i’m the lucky one.”

“nah.”

“no, i married the super hot, talented hockey player. there’s millions of girls who would kill to be me.”

“y/n, i’m the lucky one. i’ve met so many people, but you’re special. you’re like a hidden gem. my gem.”

“you’re such a sap.”

“not usually, only when given a good reason.”

he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “like you.”

────୨ৎ────

“i don’t know how you do it. i mean, you’re so fast out on the ice.”

he took one hand of the wheel and took hers. “practice, baby. lots of practice.”

“you must practice a lot.”

“y/n, of course i practice a lot.”

“i realize that now.”

“so silly. what a silly girl.”

“i can’t help it. i can’t think around hot guys.”

“interesting you mention that, because i can’t think around pretty girls.”

he just kept driving, focused on the road. only a few minutes until they were back home.

“jack?”

“yeah?”

“i love you.”

“love you too, sweetheart.”

he put the car in park and went around to open the door for y/n.

“you’re so pretty.”

“so are you.”

jack cupped her face and gently pressed his lips to hers. it was a sweet kiss, different from the ones they typically shared. there was no urgency, no frenzied urges. just y/n. just jack. just the moon in the newark sky.

“you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, y/n.”

“jack… that’s so sweet.”

“i mean it.”

“we just started dating a few months ago.”

“seven.”

“i’m sure better things have happened.”

“nah. you’re it for me, y/n.”

“what?”

“marry me.”

“WHAT???”

“what, did you want someone else to ask?”

“no, i mean, it’s so soon-”

“yes or no, baby.”

“what if you realize you don’t love me?”

“not happening.”

“but jack-”

“trust me, love.”

────୨ৎ────

their little house was a cute two story in the suburbs of newark. close enough to the prudential center for jack, while also being in a good area for any and all future kids they would have. there was a park just down the street with a big open field and a playground. jack tested the slides himself.

the house itself was perfect. a nice backyard with a shed for y/n’s garden supplies and a trampoline the previous owner’s left. an open floor kitchen with an island, a cutesy chandelier in the dining room, a marble mantle on the fireplace. the garage was big enough for their two cars and the bikes jack had bought “just because”. every room in the house had been decorated by a somewhat bored y/n, with plants and paintings in every room. her favorite piece was the courthouse picture of her and jack, framed above the fireplace.

“so this is home now,” jack said, watching his wife (!!!) fluff the pillows on the couch.

“we always had a home. just now it’s a building too.”

“i love you so much.”

“i love you more.”

“nah,” he picked her up and placed her on his lap, “i love you the most.”

she nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “i love you times infinity.”

“you’re supposed to let me win,” he said with a pout.

“have you heard the phrase ‘happy wife, happy life’?”

“happy jack, happy f-”

“that’s enough.”

they kissed again, perfectly content in each other’s company.

────୨ৎ────

“jacky?”

“yes, baby?”

“i need a white dress.”

“how come?”

“you asked me to marry you!”

“i knew that.”

“you’re terrible.”

“you love me.”

“i do.”

he kissed her, his hands weaving through the strands of her hair.

“c’mon baby, let’s go find you a dress.”

────୨ৎ────

y/n tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep. jack had been gone for the past couple of days for a series of road games. and to make matters worse, her mom had called.

“y/n, your father and i would like to meet that boyfriend of yours. what was his name? jake?”

“jack.”

“yes, jack. that’s the one. is he around?”

“no, mom. business trip.”

“what does he do again?”

“y/n?”

“please be something respectable.”

“he’s a hockey player.”

“that’s not sustainable. he won’t make that much mo-”

“yes, he will. he plays for the devils.”

“excuse me?”

“jack hughes.”

“your boyfriend is jack hughes?”

“no. my husband is jack hughes.”

“husband?”

“we got married a few weeks ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?”

“it was a sudden thing.”

“we’ve never met the guy.”

“i’m sorry, mom.”

“i didn’t raise you to be like this.”

she just needed jack to crawl into bed, to hold her the way he held her every night, his arms around her waist, his face buried into the crook of her neck.

but he was in chicago. almost 800 miles away.

────୨ৎ────

“baby? i’m home!”

jack closed the front door and set his bag down.

“y/n?”

she poked her head out from the bedroom.

“jack?”

he ran to her, sliding a little on the wooden floor. jack picked her up, spinning her.

“i missed you, baby.”

“i missed you more, jacky.”

he pressed his nose to hers. “you look sad.”

“me? no.”

“y/n.”

“what?”

“can’t help if you don’t talk.”

“my mom called.”

“what’d she say?”

“she’s disappointed.”

“how come?”

“probably because i married a pro hockey player without her knowing.”

“yeah that’ll do it.”

y/n buried her face in his chest. “she’s pissed.”

“maybe we should visit?”

“maybe. for now though, you owe me cuddles.”

“what??? since when???”

“since you left your wife alone in the middle of december.”

“alright, alright. lead the way mrs hughes.”

tags: @verycoolusername1 @tomskookie @dream-girl06 @skepvids @devilinpradaheels @r0wdymaize86

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[4only1]

Best Friends Brother

Gitae Kim x Reader Word Count: 1002 Masterlist ------------------------

You had just returned from meeting Bongae Choi with Jake. After stopping for a quick meal, the two of you were walking down Big Deal’s street. 

You had known Jake since childhood, having grown up with him alongside Jerry. You had mutual respect for each other, and even if you weren’t much of a fighter, he knew you could handle yourself if need be.

Jake cleaned his teeth with a toothpick while you walked beside him, your phone out, trying to call Sinu Han, who wasn’t answering. It was starting to irritate you that he wasn’t answering, I mean he didn’t have much to do, so why wasn’t he answering you?

Ahead of you and Jake, you finally see Sinu, along with a very tall and muscular man. Dare you say, handsome? (You do dare). They seemed to be fighting, but that was the last thing on your mind. You first had to complain to Sinu about him not answering your phone calls.

“Sinu, why aren’t you answering your phone? Seriously Jake, we don’t have to bring him with us do we?” You exclaim, redirecting the last question towards the man beside you, who seems to ignore you.

“We were gonna get rice sou-, hey what’s with the vibes here?” Jake says, dropping the toothpick to the ground as the stranger comes up and hugs him before saying “Found you” in a deep gruff voice.

The stranger was way better looking up close. Yep, you do dare say handsome. The scene however confuses you. Did Jake know this guy? Why were they hugging? It didn’t make much sense because you knew all of Jake’s friends and this wasn’t one of them.

“Finally, the last one” A deep voice breaks through your train of thought. This stranger is now hugging Jake to his side, holding onto one of the gloves Jake’s father, Gapryong Kim, left him. 

“Huh, last one? You mean father’s glove” Jake questions the strange man. You pipe up, giving your two cents on what was happening.

“They are nice gloves Jake, you have to admit that” This leads the stranger to finally take note of you. He makes prolonged eye contact with you as he brings a smoking pipe and lighter to his lips, where a smirk forms. Wait…you know that lighter, it’s Jake’s mothers!

“She said she would give it to me if I didn’t kill her son. Your mom requested to not shed blood amongst relatives.”. Relatives? It all clicked, they didn’t look identical but there were some similarities. The hair, the nose, that jawline, this was Jake’s half-brother, Gitae Kim!

“I’m gonna ask you a question. If I don’t like your answer I’ll kill you” Gitae states, thickening the tension that was already in the air. He wouldn’t actually kill Jake, would he?

“What do you think of Gapryong Kim?”. After hearing the question, Jake grabs Gitae’s shirt collar and looks up at him. Jake is already a big guy, but Gitae is ridiculously huge. He could crush you with one hand if he wanted to. I can only hope that Gitae hates Gapryong Kim just as much as Jake. I don’t doubt his strength, but I doubt he could fight Gitae, the man was quite literally built differently.

You weren’t listening but soon see Gitae pickup Jake like he is a baby. Holy Shit! That is the only thought that crosses your mind at what you are witnessing. That and how good-looking Gitae is, but that isn’t important right now (or is it?). You heard the man say something in what you guessed to be Spanish before saying something that sent a chill down your spine.

“The only one among his children. I didn’t like any of the other guys.” It was starting to make sense. He had the lighter and pipe, and that shirt and hat looked familiar to you as well. Was he killing his father’s children and collecting the parts of his father that were left to them! 

As soon as he put Jake down on the ground, his attention turned back to you. You held your breath as he walked over and towered over you. You had kinda hoped he forgot about you, but also, the aura this man held interested you. You wanted to know more about him.

He held his hand out towards you before asking in probably the kindest tone he could muster, that still somehow sounded emotionless “Let me use your phone.”. Your body moved on its own, placing the phone you’ve been holding in your hand all this time into his.

You saw him typing in something before a phone rang out. He pulled it from out of his pocket and declined the call. Then he returns the call from his phone to your phone. After pocketing his phone, he began doing something else. When he turned the phone back around, it was on a new contact saved as ‘Gitae Kim’.

“I added myself to your contacts, so make sure you answer when I message or call.”. In a state of shock, all you could do was nod at this information. “What’s your name?” Gitae’s deep gruff voice says. Is it possible to fall in love with a man like this after what you just witnessed? Anything is possible I guess.

“(y/n) (l/n)”. A smirk places itself on Gitae’s face as he reaches down to take the hat off his waistband. You hear Sinu, who has moved next to you whisper ‘I thought he hated romance?’ before turning to look at you baffled. 

“I hope to see you later,” Gitae says before turning around and placing the hat on his head. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages, little brother.”. With that, he walked away, leaving you, Jake and Sinu in shock. As the three of you stood there, looking at Gitae walking into the distance, you couldn’t help but speak what was on your mind.

“Jake, your brother is kinda hot”

“(Y/N)!!!!”

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

I have to admit it is kinda hard to write an x reader for a character who hates romance. I did my best, even if the romance is barely there.

There are probably a million spelling errors but I just wanted to get this out there. Idk why but this man is the one I've decided to stan. Probably because I like Jake so much too lol.

[cosycafune]

LEMME BREED YOU, PRINCESS!

0.6k words. your boyfriend is a shit one, but that really doesn’t matter when you’re bouncing on Toji’s cock — ruining your sanity. sure, sneaking around is risky, but toji’s divine cock is enough for you to almost ruin your future.

acts: unprotected sex, creampies, infidelity, degradation, doubt, breeding kink, size difference, slight age gap and slight sadistic tendencies.

SEATED, guilt and enthralment adorn you. Nothing prepared you for this sacred moment, tinted with the art of intimacy, infidelity and lust. Tendrils of confusion smother you, but you can’t bring yourself to release Toji right now. 

Grinding against an older Toji, you momentarily forget about your shortcomings – shedding every thought of your estranged boyfriend.

Unrestrained, you continue to rut your hips against Toji’s erection – stomaching the closest feeling to love you’ve ever carried. Liberation almost tints you, but it’s tainted, distorted – settling you in a morally grey area.

Naturally, you felt like you had to succumb to your boyfriend’s shortcomings – enduring the colourful, negative emotions he painted on you. Engaging with Toji, taking every inch of his cock, being talked through it, coddled and eerily cared for, rewired you. Leaving, you know you should do that, but your boyfriend suffocated you – strangling you with his status and power imbalance.

Yet, Toji carries status, emotional stability, money and a huge dick. A huge dick you could never resist, sneaking away to meet with him – coming back home with hickeys, bite marks and symbols of satisfaction. To you, it was thrilling – a diligent way of getting back at your cheating boyfriend. Everything within you wanted to leave him, but he would suppress you – mentioning his cherishable reputation with your family.

All you wanted was for Toji to mould into your charming prince, sculpting an atmosphere that would permanently provide peace. However, you’re pitifully bound here – stealing away pleasurable moments that pale in the long run. Even as you grind against his cock, nude, filled with Toji’s cum, you can’t help but ask for more. As a princess, is this truly what your life has come to? Sleeping with your father’s favourite millionaire?

“You’re thinking, darlin’,” Breaking your internal silence, Toji gruffly speaks – relishing your soppy, cum-filled folds kissing his cock head.

“I mean, we only have half an hour,” Chuckling, you respond to Toji – frantically kissing his lips. Looking down at him, you smoothly deflect – unbounded. 

“Stop deflecting,” Lightening up, Toji murmurs through his grunt –  harshly sinking you onto his cock.

“It’s… just, why won’t you beat him up or do some dramatic gesture to convince my family?” Avoiding Toji’s intimidating gaze, you speak, “You know that he… treats me like shit.” Blabbering, you look away — only for Toji to grip your chin.

“Because it’s not him that has your pretty self sinking his cock,” Grinning, Toji breathily grunts — captured by your warm cunt squeezing him.

“Hmm, don’t tell your boyfriend,” Taunting you, Toji frantically bucks his hips into you — pushing you into moaning extremely loudly.

“Shit! I won’t! Ahh!” Pounded into, revoking your willpower to think, you shakily grip onto Toji — bellowing.

“He’s never fucked you this good, has he?” Observing you, Toji gently moans — his question almost hazy.

“Ngh! Never!” Barely clutching onto your self-esteem, you prettily feed into Toji’s inquiries — demolishing his fat, enormous cock.

“Shit! If I…put a baby in you, he’ll leave,” Threatening your future, Toji thrusts deeper within you — grinning at you cock-stricken.

“Hmm! Baby!” Mewling, you tremble vigorously — practically agreeing for Toji to expand you with as many babies he wants.

“A pretty… princess like you, pregnant?” Enthralled, Toji snaps his toned hips harder — barely able to voice his thoughts through pleasure.

“I’d do…anything for you to be swollen with my baby,” So close to cumming, Toji hums with satisfaction — burying himself so, so deeply within you.

“T-Toji,” Moaning his name, you accidentally cum before him — embarrassed at how quickly he could dismantle you.

“I’ll fill you up and give you a baby,” Determined to impregnate you, Toji snaps his hips intensely — his pulsating cock finally twitching before filling a foolish you up.

“Mhmm, I’ll have… your baby,” Whining, you desperately proclaim — almost collapsing as Toji kisses your lips.

“Hmm, but don’t tell your boyfriend,” Teasing you, Toji gifts you a gentle kiss — before smacking your ass.

Don’t tell your boyfriend.

--

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3

[spencereidluver]

O is for On You

READ PART 1 HERE

january 01, 2009

summary:  You and Spencer celebrate your first new years together with the girls at Penelope's apartment, then go back to his to celebrate alone.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: honestly, this is just smut. sub!spence, reader is pretty bold, Spencer does in fact have a praise kink. unprotected sex (don’t try this at home) creampie (leave that to lil debbie) oral, spencer eats reader out after he yk in the yk (baby boy is freaky)

warnings: smut. sub!spence, reader is pretty bold, Spencer does in fact have a praise kink. unprotected sex (don’t try this at home) creampie (leave that to lil debbie) oral, spencer eats reader out after he yk in the yk (baby boy is freaky)

Spencer had no more than entered his apartment before his lips were back onto yours. His movements were rushed and desperate, unable to wait any longer. “Y/n,” he says, voice rushed and crackly, “I- I need you.” He’s begging, it’s undeniable. 

You softly shush him, before you whisper a quiet, “I know.” His knees are weak, his stance wobbly as he hovers his lips just off yours. You grab his waist gently, beginning to pull him with you as you walk backwards into his bedroom.

As soon as he’s passed the doorway he begins shedding his clothes. He loosens his  tie, pulls it over his head, and drops it to the floor, a difference from his typical neatness. He kicks off his shoes as his fingers work at the buttons of his shirt but are interrupted by yours. You take over for him, finishing the final few buttons. He shrugs the shirt off and it joins in the pile of clothing on the ground. 

You inch your body closer to his, hands cupping his face as you smile up at him. His gaze was tender, a look mixed with admiration and a tinge of longing. “Wanna untie my corset?” you ask.

He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing before he uses his hands on your waist to turn you around. He slowly pulls at the string draping from the bow on the back of your corset he’d fastened for you earlier. His fingers tremble, but his touch is still delicate. Each loosening of the strings puts ease on your breath and comfort in your stance.

He pauses as he reaches the final cross section of ribbon, fingers lingering on the fabric. He leans down close to you, softly brushing his lips against your shoulder. Though light, the intimate contact is enough to send a shiver down your spine. He finally unhooks the last section and pulls the now-loosened fabric off over your head. One hand meets your waist as he steps back to gaze at your unconstricted figure. His breath hitches in his throat as he tries to speak.

“Y-y/n,” he stutters your name, “c-can I ask you something?” His fingers dig into your waist. 

“Of course, baby,” you say as you slowly inch closer to him. 

He pulls you in the rest of the way, his body pressing into yours so desperately. He toys with the fabric of your dress. “Can you um…” his eyes search yours while a shy giggle escapes his lips. “Can you maybe keep the dress on while we…” He looks down at his feet embarrassed. 

You smile at him. “You want to fuck me in the dress, Spencer?” You ask him despite knowing that is what he was attempting to ask. 

“Y-Yeah,” he grips tightly on your waist, almost mimicking the feeling from the corset, “if that’s alright w-with you. It just looks so pretty on you.” He tilts his head back to get a look at you. 

You can’t stop smiling at him. Bringing your arms up from your side to his hips, you push him onto the edge of the bed. He sits, looking up at you as you practically launch yourself onto him. He lets out a surprised sound, not expecting to have been pounced on. You straddle his waist, grinding your hips so slightly against him. He moans loudly into your mouth at the friction and pushes you down onto him. 

“G-god Y/n,” he whines into your mouth. He pushes you impossibly closer into him, his hardness pressing firmly between your thighs under your dress. His kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, nuzzling his nose into your collarbone. “P-please.”

You tangle your fingers into the back of his hair. “Please what, baby?” You whisper.

“I can’t wait. I need you.”

You grind your hips down into him, using your soft grip on his hair to pull his head to face you. His mouth is agape as he looks up at you, eyes filled with a drunken mixture of love and lust. He’s not drunk, but there's not a thought in his head aside from you. If anything, he’s drunk on you. 

He ruts up into you, small whimpers leaving his lips. You smile as you take in just how perfect he looks like this, and only you get to see him like this. You run your thumb along his bottom lip before crashing your lips onto his feverishly. 

You allow him to enjoy the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away, causing him to pout at the break of contact. You cup his cheek, giving it two playful pats. “You were patient all night,” you say as you stand up, hand still holding his face. He whines at the sudden loss of pressure to his crotch. “What do you want, baby?” you ask.

“Y-you,” he says, reaching his arms out to your waist, attempting to pull you back toward him, but you won’t let him. 

You bring your fingers down his cheek, tracing an outline around his swollen lips. “I know that,” you say, “tell me what you want though. Use your words.”

His breath is shaky, the sweet tone and guidance in your voice making him weak. “I- I want you to r-ride me.” His face turns bright red as the words fall past his lips. He tries to hide his face in his shoulder, but you keep his face up by holding his chin. 

You lean in and plant a firm kiss on his lips. “Good boy,” you praise. 

The sound that left his mouth was straight out of a porno. You had to look down between his legs to make sure he didn’t cum right then. You knew Spencer loved when you praised him, but you were not expecting that reaction from those words. 

“Did you like that, baby?” you ask, smiling at him as he was just so adorable. 

He nodded so quickly back at you. 

“Lay down for me,” you say, motioning toward the pillows on the bed. Spencer begins to oblige, but you stop him with a hand just under his bare navel. You comb your hand down his lower stomach achingly slow, hooking your fingers on his belt. “Take all this off too.” 

He takes his belt and slacks off as you work to remove your shoes. He’s settled in bed once you're done, having taken his boxers off as well. He’s lying there completely naked for you, cock already a dark red and glistening against his abdomen. You slide your underwear off, eyes never once leaving Spencer’s.

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs which were spread perfectly for you to fit between. You carefully lift his cock upright, taking him into your mouth as deep as you can. A long, disjointed moan echoes from him, his hands immediately pulling your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You move your mouth up and down him slowly, only a few repetitions taking place before he’s stopped you. 

“I-I can’t. Please,” his voice is high pitch and whiny. 

“Please what, Spence?” you ask, pumping your hand up his cock once, causing it to pulse aggressively in your grasp and his mouth to fall even further open. 

“P-please fuck me,” he whispers, rutting into your hand. You pull your hand up him one more time, letting your thumb press on the wet, swollen head. He wines as beads of precum leave his tip, the subtle feeling still so good to cause his eyes to roll just slightly back in his head. 

You crawl from between his legs to his waist, hovering over where he wants you the most. His hands find your waist, rubbing up and down your torso. Your hand reaches behind you, leading his cock to your entrance. Lining him up to you, you slowly sink onto him. You gnaw at your bottom lip as he stretches you out, not having had any preparation. It is a fairly painful sensation, yet the pain is welcome to you. He gently pushes you down by your waist, helping you to be filled by him, yet still cautious as to not hurt you. 

He finally bottoms out inside you, and as the burning subsides, you begin to make small figure eights with your hips. He uses his grip on your waist to pull you into him, stretching to reach your lips with his. His moans are stifled by the kiss, but he still sounds so beautiful. 

You use your knees as leverage as you shift to allow yourself to bounce up and down on him, your lips still attached to his. “You sound so pretty, Spence,” you say between breaths, his moans more apparent. 

“P-please,” he begs. He’s begging for nothing. His hips begin to buck into you involuntarily, but you don’t stop him. You can tell by the switch in his breathing and velocity of his whimpers and whines he isn’t going to last much longer, and you want him to enjoy himself. After all, he was a good boy tonight.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan into his mouth. “You’re such a good boy for me.”

His eyes go wide and hips begin to stutter as you speak. He’s struggling to thrust into you now. He’s close.

“Do you wanna cum?” you ask him.

He nods quickly. “Yes, fuck. Yes please,” now he’s begging for something.

You lean back away from the kiss, looking down at him and giving him a cheeky smirk. “Not yet.” He whines below you, almost looking betrayed. “Sit up, honey.”

He does what you ask, sitting up without pulling out of you. The shift of position causes the both of you to gasp, a different feeling being evoked between you. You begin to lean back, trying to pull him down with you. 

“C’mon, come here, baby,” you say as his body falls over you. He begins to thrust into you, now having control of the speed and depth in which he fucks you.

“G-god, I’m so close y/n,” he whines, hips still stuttering into you. 

“You can cum, baby,” you say, “been so good for me.” He’s shaking at your praise, you can sense he’s trying to hold it. “Don’t hold back for me baby.” You rub your nails down his smooth back. 

He grunts as he thrusts into you. “Wanna-” he gasps, “wanna make you c-cum too,” he chokes out. He’s so close to his edge every part of him is shaking. ]

“It’s okay, baby,” you assure him, “I just want you to feel good.”

That’s all he needs to topple over. He thrusts shallowly as he fills you with his warmth, whimpers falling past his lips into the nape of your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, adding to all the other sensations you’re feeling. 

He gives you a few more weak thrusts as he comes down, finally pulling out and falling limp on top of you. You feel his cum drip out of you, a strange yet erotic feeling. He rests on you for no more than a minute before hiking himself up on his elbows above you.

He looks in your eyes, bringing a hand up to move the hair away from your face. “I wanna make you cum now,” he says somehow innocently. 

You smile at him, “you don’t have to, baby, it’s okay, really.” 

“No, I want to. I want you to show me how.”

Spencer had never done more than finger you during foreplay, never having you finish from that alone. But you knew he didn’t need much ‘showing.’ 

“Okay baby, go for it.” You encourage him, taking his chin in your hands and kissing him. 

He settles down between your thighs, hiking your dress up around your waist to allow for better access. He wastes no time in inserting two fingers into you, no hesitation from your body as you’d already been stretched out by him. His cum is still warm in you, acting as a secondary lubricant, only making the sounds and speed at which his fingers can pump into you more erotic. 

Spencer knows to curl his fingers, something you taught him the first time, and he uses this to his advantage. He slips a third finger inside of you, curling his middle and ring finger while letting his ring finger go into you at full length. He uses his thumb to press firmly on your clit, a much much needed addition. You grind your hips into his hand as you feel your high already approaching.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, tugging slightly on his hair. “I’m close.”

His thumb halts its movements. His fingers continue moving in and out of you, and without warning, you feel his tongue press onto your clit. You involuntarily squeeze his face with your thighs, and you can hear him giggle into you. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, not halting his finger’s movements at all and barely having taken his mouth off you. 

“Yes,” you practically scream. “Oh my god, yes, Spencer.” You use your grip on his hair to push his face into you. He sucks gently on you as his fingers still are working inside you. 

You begin to feel the tightness in your stomach, knowing you were about to come loose. You buck your hips, which only makes Spencer lick and suck harder on you, which is just what you needed to be pushed over the edge.

“Oh my god, Spencer.” You moan. He feels you clench around his fingers, knowing this means you are cumming.

He hums into you, the vibrations making your hips buck like crazy into his face. He slows his fingers as he feels you begin to come down, licking circles around your clit. Once he’s satisfied you’ve finished, he returns to hover above you.

He looks down into your eyes. His hair is sweaty against his forehead, cheeks red and hot, and oh my god his lips and chin are absolutely soaked with a mixture of you and him. Just the sight is so… god. 

You bring your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down to you. You kiss him with passion, open mouthed, wanting to taste yourself and him. “God, you…” you can’t even find the words to say. He’s staring at you with a goofy grin on his face, clearly proud of himself. “I fucking love you, Spencer.” 

“I love you,” he smiles. “And that dress.”

_____

next chapter: P is for Perfect

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: this part took foreverrrrr oh my god. i just could not write spencer in a way i liked, but i fear if i proofread this one more time i’ll delete the whole thing again. i just need to post this part lmao surely someone will enjoy it. also, i will never use the word “panties.” i hate that word with every fiber of my being. #certifiedunderweargirl

_____

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taglist:

@justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @navs-bhat @sammy-4103 @ada--44 @moongirl27

@hopelessheaven @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @violetvsworld @ivyflowers13 @taygrls

@hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08

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@guacam011y @super-nerd22 @khxna

[miirohs]

nightingale [m.v.s]

pairing: Mob Boss!Max Verstappen x Nurse!Reader wc: 1.7k cw: indications of ppd (not explicit but you'd have to read the lines for it), max is not the most mentally stable, abuse mentioned (not in detail) an: elle is 100% made up and if yall want more family content hmu i can do it 😝 also, the nightingale oath isn’t universally used, but essentially it’s almost the same thing as the Hippocratic oath doctors take :)

“She won’t stop crying!” Max snapped, frustratedly clutching the rails of the crib as the baby in it cried relentlessly, giving you a crazed look from the corner of his eye as you got closer. It was like dealing with a wounded animal that refused your help.

“Breath Max. Breath.” From the moment you had arrived at the Verstappen home, it had been walking on eggshells, anger fueling his every waking move from as far as three weeks as he prowled around the house.

“Godverdomme (goddamnit) Y/n, I know that! Why is she crying though?!”

You reached out a hand, stroking his back gently. You ought to be as angry as him for having you snatched off the streets but you couldn’t, not with the reveal of his child. You had the barest idea of what he might have been going through.

“I don’t know, I'm not… yeah.” The look in his eyes turned sharp and you closed your mouth, staring down at your hands.

“I’m leaving, I can’t do this right now. Don’t come after me or else.” He threatened, the anger on his face fading into a stoic look as he turned away from the child, one look you feared more than his explosive anger.

It wasn’t until he left the room, gun drawn in hand, that you could breathe again, nearly collapsing to the floor.

You turned around, weakly holding the rails. You could hear him barking at the guards from inside the room, fading into the distance as your anticipation slowly died down. You thought that maybe today, you were good as dead.

The baby’s fussing had died down long before you had finally noticed. You hesitated when looking at her, reaching in to pick her up gently.

“Hi Elle.”

All the baby did was look at you blankly, eyes still wet from the countless tears that’d been shed before Max left. She had his gorgeous blue eyes, but most likely her mothers soft face.

You knew he was a dangerous man, and now you supposed the baby knew as well, seeing the way she’d been crying before Max had finally left the room. It wasn’t an isolated incident as well, building up across many miniature incidents.

The most shocking part, though, was the fact you’d been told the biggest kingpin in the Netherlands had a child. You would’ve laughed in the face of the person telling you before, but now it felt realer than it had been for the last couple weeks.

You gently cradled the baby in your arm, rocking her lightly as you looked out the door ajar to the hall. You could hear the guard grumbling in discontent as they went about their business, yet none of the commotion had bothered Elle. 

She had finally fallen asleep in your arms, gripping onto your finger as you put her down, a strong sense of familiarity washing over you. 

You spent a good part of your time caring for children, as this was no different to you.

Letting go of the crib, you steeled your nerves to walk out the room, arms crossed in front of your protectively as you eyed the men in the hall.

One of the guards, Daniel, held you back gently by the shoulder, looking at you with curious eyes. This was probably one of the more rare times seeing you, it was like you’d never left the nursery from the moment you got here.

“You can’t-”

“He kidnapped me from my own home Daniel. I don’t think he has a right to keep me from going wherever I want in his house.” You snapped, surprised at how hoarse your voice seemed.

He didn’t fight you, simply nodding and slinking back to his spot because there wasn’t much he could do to convince you to stay. 

You could easily recall your steps to the kitchen, the heat in your feet dispelled by the cold tiles as you entered.

You didn’t know how long you were there, standing blankly at the sink as the water continued to fill up in the glass.

The glass was overfilling and you watched it, hands clenched into fists before you released them entirely, weight rolling off your shoulders.

The sound of a door slamming snapped you out of your stupor, turning off the sink and staring into the dimly illuminated living room.

Max came through the door, blood staining his shirt and face, dirt smudge across his nose and cheeks. He noticed you, a look of disparagement in his eyes as he got closer. Looking into his eyes, it really reminded you of Elle.

He ignored you as he limped into the kitchen, opening a cabinet with more gentleness than you’d seen in days.

“I thought I told you not to leave her alone?” He said, voice scratchy and low as if he’d been screaming. 

“She’s finally asleep.”

You responded. He didn’t bother to critize you again, popping open the bottle of whisky and pouring it into a glass. 

He limped back to the living room, settling into an armchair with his back to the cityline. He looked almost formidable as the harsh shadows cast lines on his face.

“You sure have a way of showing you care, Max.”

“I know you aren’t criticizing me now, schat.” He laughed humorlessly, sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh yeah, because kidnapping someone to take care of your child really says you love them.” You snarked, eyes trailing to his sides. 

There were minor tears when you hadn’t seen his shirt before he left, heart beating loudly as you got a glimpse of his bloodied side as he pushed himself up.

“What happened to you?”

“What do you think happened?” He said, rolling his eyes as he lowered the glass from his lips.

“Well, this isn’t healthy. For you or Elle.” You said wearily, finger tracing the rim of the glass. “Have you ever considered therapy? It might-“

“No.” 

You blinked, surprised by his sudden refusal. “Why not?”

“I can’t. Do you know the kind of risk that poses?” He grumbled, clearly offended at you for suggesting so.

“Okay then, sure would’ve been better if you’d kidnapped a therapist rather than an underpaid nurse to do that job for you. Secrecy and all.” 

“That’s how you want to play then? I’ll give you the money, then leave this place and never come back, if you’re that desperate.” He gritted through clenched teeth, temper clearly being dialed up by the reminder.

“What? Absolutely not.” It was your turn to reject his offer, staring at him blankly. You didn’t know why that made you feel so upset.

“I’m offering you money and allowing you to leave, what more could you want, schat?” He scoffed, sharply putting down the whiskey glass as he held his head in the other hand.

“I can't just leave her like that, you know that as well as I do.” He remained silent, which you took as permission to get closer to him.

He didn’t protest as you leaned over, yet flinched slightly as you pulled his shirt up.

“Calm down, if I had any intention of hurting you, you’d know.” You rolled your eyes, turning up the light a little more so you could see the full extent of his wounds.

“I don’t think it’s necessary-“ 

You cut him off with a sharp inhale. The other miniature wounds stared back at you, barely cuts compared to the jagged scar that ran down his side. “When did this happen?” You whispered.

He slammed his glass down again and you flinched back, split seconds before you could look him in the eyes again. They were slightly sorrowful, but otherwise empty, where there had been every negative emotion a human could muster moments before.

“It was my dad.”

“Did he…” You didn’t finish the sentence, swallowing your doubts as you stared at it.

“Yes. It was in a fight. He won, obviously.” He answered, short and clipped as his posture dropped slightly. 

“Is this why you don’t want Elle? Because you don’t want her to go through-” You asked meekly, cut off almost instantly. “The old man is dead. I killed him myself, made sure he couldn’t lay a single hand on anyone else.” Max hissed, a few beats passing in between the both of you.

“Do you know anything about her mother maybe? I could probably pull together something if-”

“She’s dead.” 

You blinked, mouth gaping slightly.

“She was a prostitute. Most likely gone from all the drugs up her system by now. That’s why I needed you. Our old doctor… left his position early.” 

You watched him get up from his spot, clearly done with the conversation, but something about what he said seemed to strike a chord in you.

“So you brought me to make sure-“

“The baby wasn’t affected. You weren’t a doctor but you did just fine I suppose.” He finished, back to you and he poured himself another one.

“Max, do you know what a Nightingale oath is?”

“Een nacht wat (a night what)?” You continued on, though you had a feeling you knew what he said.

“It’s an oath some of us take. To protect and to serve.”

You got up, feet pattering against the ground as you got closer to him.

“I don’t think anyone really abides by it anymore-“ He let out a short laugh, clearly unbelieving of your words as you continued, “-but maybe, just maybe, that’s why I haven’t gone home just yet.”

“Are you sure you want this Y/n? When you could just as easily leave and go home now?” He muttered softly, hunched over the countertop as your hand met his back.

“I’m sure. You need the help Max. You can’t deny it.”

“Then so be it nachtegaal. I can’t stop you when you’ve made up your mind.” He murmured, steely blue eyes meeting your own as he held your gaze.

“Maybe, once you’re well enough, you can finally form some connection to the child.” You sighed, looking at him. “I promise it.”

“You’re very confident in this plan of yours.”

You smiled inwardly at his words. “Why else would I be here if I wasn’t?”