#it makes my chest all warm and fuzzy

[selfshippinglover]

Alastor blog likes me? Alastor lets me be his favorite?? The exception??🥺🥺🥺

[world-class-curiosity]

the worst part about the punko patreon discord is that the people in there make me believe i’m actually funny

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[whytheylosttheirminds]

blue sweater - r.c.

(season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader blurb, 2.4k words)

content smut, p in v, this gorgeous man and his afformentioned blue sweater, 18+ minors do not interact!!

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You’d fallen asleep on the couch, waiting up for him again. You didn’t fault Rafe for working so hard, you just miss him so fucking much when he’s in back-to-back meetings all day. 

The couch dips below you, pulling you from your dreams. A large, warm presence settles next to you on the sofa. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it’s him.

“Hey,” you mumble sleepily, eyes still closed.

He’s smirking down at you, you know him so well you can picture exactly how he looks without actually seeing him. 

“Hi,” he leans forward, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry, that last meeting ran so long.”

Finally opening your eyes to meet his, you’re almost startled by the sight. Somehow, in the dim evening light, they’re more deeply blue and beautiful than ever.

“Nice sweater,” you say, reaching up to run your fingers along the hard edge of his shoulder. Even though he looks so soft and pretty right now, he’s tense, and you wish you could ease the worry that furrows his brow.

He smiles knowingly, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling in the cute way that makes your heart ache for him.

“Thanks, my girlfriend got it for me.”

“She has good taste,” you joke as your run your hand gently up and down his bicep, the soft fabric such a contrast to the hard muscle below. 

“Yeah, she’s all kinds of good,” he winks.

“Then why’d you make her wait for you all night?” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip so he’d know you’re just teasing.

“I said I’m sorrrrry,” he whines as he leans over you more, adjusting to bring his legs onto the couch. You make room for him instinctually, his body fitting into yours like you were designed for each other. 

He lets his full weight down slowly, sinking you both deep into the cushions. Nuzzling his head into your neck, he drags his lips against the skin below your ear so gently, it sends goosebumps racing across your skin. He can feel your excitement and starts kissing you more firmly, leaving little wet spots up the column of your throat.

Your hands splay out over his big, firm back, rubbing circles into the tight muscles. You press deep, working out his stress, and he groans at your firm touch. Your hands work slowly down his back, pressing as you go. When you reach the hem of his sweater, you slip your hands underneath. Rafe flinches at your touch, a shudder running through him.

“Your hands are cold!” He exclaims, his voice muffled.

“Oh sorry, love!” you start to pull them away, but he reaches his arm behind him and pins your palms to his skin.

“No, it feels nice, don’t stop.”

You obey, the pads of your fingers digging little figure eights into his lower back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“What’s got you so stressed baby, hmm?” You ask.

“Just got too much going on,” he shakes his head so his buzzed hair tickles your earlobe. You giggle at the sensation, his head rising and falling with the shake of your chest.

“Poor baby,” you coo, making him smile against you. “Just need a little help to relax?”

Rafe nods against you, moving slightly to lay his head against your chest so you can run your nails along his head like you know he likes. You bring one hand up, the other still under his shirt, the motion making you open your legs wider so you can stretch. He slots between them perfectly, and when you drag your nails over the fuzzy hairs right at the nape of his neck, you can feel him twitch against your core, already half hard.

“Someone’s needy,” you hum, delighted that you can make him so hot just by touching him tenderly like this. “Want me to make you forget all about your bad day?”

“Please,” he groans into your collarbone, pressing his hips down harder so you can feel him fully against you now. Your wetness pools immediately, soaking through your panties as you arch your back and return the pressure. 

“Shit, baby, that’s so nice,” he praises.

“‘I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you confess.

“Then we better not make you wait any longer.”

Swiftly, he lifts his head from your chest and finds your lips with his. It’s hungry and sloppy, the wet skin of his lower lip sliding against yours as your mouths collide. You’re fully grinding up into him now, and there is nothing semi-soft about him, his hard cock threatening to rip the seams of his pants. You writhe, desperate to feel his length. You know it like the back of your hand, picturing his perfect cock clearly as you rock against it. You’ve got every vein, every throbbing, pink inch memorized. 

“Take your pants off,” you breathe into his open mouth.

With a cocky grin that makes you impossibly wetter he drawls, “now who’s needy, huh?”

You roll your eyes and reach for his waistband, if he’s gonna be an ass about it you’ll just do it yourself. He mirrors you, undressing you with the same shaky fervor. Your shirt goes first, he’s delighted to see you’ve opted for no bra. In the cold evening air, your nipples harden immediately, and he can see the goosebumps spreading across your torso. 

“Ohh baby, you really are freezing.”

“Mhm,” you nod, lip pulled between your teeth. “Warm me up, Rafe.”

A throaty groan rises from his chest as he takes over your work on his pants, ripping them off as best he can without standing, his boxers following. You slip your thumbs under your shorts, doubling up to slide your panties down with them until you’re bare for him. Only one piece of clothing remains between you, the soft blue sweater you bought for him. He starts to pull it off, but you stop him, your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“No, leave it on,” you instruct.

“Whatever you want, angel,” he smirks at your unusual request, but obliges without complaint.

He lays down on you again, his lips hovering over yours as he lets his cock press into your inner thigh. He’s so hard you gasp, inhaling sharply at the sweet pressure against your leg. He kisses you again, more tenderly this time, like he’s trying to imprint the taste of you onto his tongue. As he lets his weight settle on you, the soft threads of his sweater rub over your sensitive nipples, the sensation making your eyes squeeze shut and a strained moan echo from your chest.

“Y’okay?” He asks.

“It feels so g-good,” you croak out.

“What does, baby?”

You blush, feeling silly for it, but something about the soft material against your hardened skin is so delicious, you’re sure your pussy is dripping onto the couch by now. 

A little embarrassed, you admit, “the sweater on my tits feels really good.”

“It does?” He questions, amused.

“Just stay on me baby, don’t stop.”

You and Rafe have been known to argue about almost anything, but he never argues when you tell him how to make you feel good. He flattens his chest against you fully, rutting his dick against your leg, causing his chest to rub against yours as requested. Your head falls back into the throw pillows. You let him continue to move you both until you almost can’t stand the friction anymore.

“I love that,” you whimper, eyes still squeezed shut. “But I need you inside.”

“Can’t wait any longer, huh?” He chuckles. Once again, you don’t need to see him to know what he looks like, his eyebrows are surely arched high and his lips quirked to the side as he looks at you in amusement.

“Rafe I’ve been waiting for like twelve hours,” you complain.

“I know, baby, I know,” he quells you. “I got you, alright?”

Propped on one arm, his sweater leaves your chest for a moment so he can line himself up at your soaked entrance. You wait with closed eyes, bracing for impact as you know it will take a minute to adjust to his size, it always does. But he doesn’t enter you, just grumbles with annoyance as he shuffles above you.

Your quizzical eyes open to find him fumbling with the collar of his sweater, preparing to pull it off.

“What’s the problem?”

“I want to see you, but this fucking sweater’s in the way,” he explains. You lift your head and look down to where your bodies should be meeting to see the hem of his sweater hanging in the way, blocking the view. “I’m just gonna take it off.”

“Nuh-uh!” you object. 

“Baby,” he whines.

A solution comes to you, causing you to break into a wide grin.

“Open up,” you say, and he’s never looked more confused.

But then, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater between your fingers, making his stomach flinch as you brush against it. You lift the hem up to his mouth, revealing the sight of his dick dangerously close to your entrance. He puzzles it together, and teasingly rolls his eyes before letting you place it between his teeth. He bites down on it obediently, considering a protest before looking down to see he now has a perfect angle to his favorite sight in the world.

It feels so good when he finally slides in, stretching you so deliciously and filling you like only he can, that you almost actually cry. He moves gently, considerate enough to know there’s probably an edge of pain to your pleasure.

“You don’t have to go slow,” you assure him. “Take your stress out on me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He tries to sound cocky, but it’s muffled from the fabric between his teeth.

The way his jaw clenches in frustration makes you giggle. Rafe usually does most of the talking, knowing the sound of his low voice in your ear makes you come so much faster.

“I’ll do the talking, just focus on my voice while you fuck me, m’kay?” You purr.

He nods in agreement, picking up the pace until he’s rocking into you, continuously hitting the perfect spot that makes you both shudder with pleasure. He’s going so hard you have to lift your arm above you and steady yourself against the arm of the couch. His eyes flit between the sight of you taking him in so perfectly and the way your tits bounce with each thrust.

You keep your promise to talk him through it, starting with, “just like that, Rafe- mmmph- feels so good. God, I can feel you so deep.”

His brows furrow in concentration, thrusting harder, desperate to drag more praises from your kiss-chapped lips. Your eyes train on the veins in his neck, throbbing with effort. You reach your other hand up and grab his chin, pulling his face so his eyes pierce yours.

“Shit, you look so good, fucking me like you needed to,” you cry.

As much as he loves the eye-contact, he’s still wearing this stupid sweater for a reason, and he needs to remind you. He matches you by placing his hand on your face, soft but firm, and directing your gaze down to see him pistoning into you.

“Oh my god, that’s so hot,” you smile, admiring the creamy mess you’re making on his shaft. “You’re fucking covered in me, baby. Made me so wet comin’ in here looking this good.”

He removes his hand from your head, looking for a non-verbal way to thank you for your compliments. He presses his thumb to your tongue, and you don’t need words to know what he’s doing. You get it nice and wet, swirling spit around his thumb with your tongue. Once it’s ready, he lowers it to your clit, rubbing back and forth a few times before forming steady circles.

“Ah- fuck- yes, Rafe that’s so-” Your commitment to keep talking falters as pleasure floods your mind, robbing you of your voice.

He knows what you need, he always knows what you need. He pulls your hand from his chin and places it on his chest, you bunch the fabric of his sweater so he can release it from his teeth.

“There ya go,” he coos. “Need me to talk you through it, huh?”

You nod desperately, confirming what he already knew.

“Couldn’t even concentrate in my meetings,” he begins, panting with the effort he’s putting in, not letting up his pace. “Thinkin’ about you here waiting for me, walking around the house in those little shorts. How am I supposed to close deals when I can’t stop thinking about bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking this perfect pussy, huh?”

His words have exactly the effect he was hoping for, you are beside yourself, moaning and squirming beneath him. Letting out the sweetest little “oh, oh, ohs” as his cock rocks your whole body. He's losing tempo, both of you nearing the edge. You bring your other fist up to bunch his sweater, too, grasping so tightly you're afraid you're gonna tear it. You clench around him as he keeps talking.

“That’s it, baby, squeeze me as hard as you can - fuck!” He's unraveling, needing to find the words to get you there so he didn’t finish first. “Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

Just as he expected, that’s what finally did it for you. You cry out his name as sparks exploded in your tummy, coming so hard you have to bury your face into his chest to keep from screaming. He follows behind you almost immediately, his hot cum spurting into you as his primal groans and grunts echo through the room.

A few minutes later, you’re cleaned up and cuddled in his bed, now wrapped up in his sweater, the stretched-out fabric engulfing you. He smirks as his hands run over the material, rubbing over your stomach and waist lovingly.

“Might have to wear this thing every day if that’s how you’re gonna react,” he teases you.

“Uh-huh,” you giggle. “Good luck getting it back.”

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a/n: omg i'm so sorry I just literally couldn't not, the chokehold this sweater has on me is unnatural like y'all don't even need to read this it was just a passion project for me. all hail Blue Sweater.

[dmitriene]

based on the ask i got in my inbox in september.

simon riley handles you carefully during the first sex after you gave birth to your child, the whole situation is overwhelming to you, the little bub that sleeps in her crib in the nearby room, his heavy cock splitting your drippy, tight pussy open as if new again, fondling at your sensitive, heavy breasts while you thrash and hiccup fragile mewls.

shimmering tears brimming at your lash line, clumping your fluttering eyelashes as you blink rapidly, pushing away the urge to roll your eyes back, the thick head of his cock slipping in, hugged snugly by your already fluttering walls, pulsing, scorching with their welcoming warmth and the gummy, gooey texture, clinging to every webbed vein around his shaft.

he's delicate, in the way he rubs a soothing palm against your chest, feeling the beat of your frantic heart, your supple skin warm to the touch, beading with sweat, as his chapped, thin lips plant soft, feathery kisses all over your face, catching the little crystals of your tears, as you keen just beneath his ear, tightening around his meaty cock that sheathes inside of you.

pooling strings of tacky slick, squelchingly wet as simon thrusts more slower and gentle than usually, rocking his hips forward, catching on every furrow of your brows, the swollen furl of your lips opening in a gasped moan, tiny and breathy from where your lungs burn, meeting every wet glide of his cock inside your spasming hole with a little gasps, each sunction sound of your pussy obscenely wet.

simon takes a good care of you when your mind goes muddled, fuzzy at the simmering heat you feel in your tummy, painted with stretch marks that he touches with a sweep of his fingers, cloaking you with his weight as he presses your lips together, kissing you with only a pure affection, each roll of his hips tantalizing, careful, as the calloused pad of his fingertip meets your twitching clit.

making your slick heat tighten around his throbbing cock, pulsing rapidly when you bow up from the mattress, tangled in the soft sheets, pinned against them with nowhere to go, as you hiccup and cry your sweet moans into his spit coated lips, eyes closing harshly when you come undone, soaking your thighs, the only sound in your ears is simon's purred praises.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[wandanatsgf]

Mommy’s Milk

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Wanda tricks you into sucking on her boobs and you get a shocking surprise

Warnings: this contains mommy kink, lactation, praise, being tricked into sucking Wanda’s boobs, oral fixation, Wanda cumming from having her boobs messed with, subspace

“Boo!” says a loud voice behind you. You jump, your elbow coming into contact with the chest of the person behind you.

Wanda elicits a low moan, the feeling of you touching her sensitive boobs and nipples is a pleasurable feeling. But she disguises the moan into a groan, trying to convince you that you had hurt her. Your elbow hadn’t really hurt her, but she can’t let you know that yet.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry Wanda I didn’t mean to.” Your face pinches together in worry, hoping you didn’t injury her.

“It’s okay honey,” she reassured you.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t hurt or anything?”

“Well it’s a little sore,” she admits, rubbing the spot that you had accidentally hit.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you say, wanting to help ease her pain.

Wanda thinks over your offer and then says, “sure there is honey, come here.” She grabs your hand and leads you to her room. She lays down and pulls you down with her. She pushes your head down so it’s laying on her chest.

“I’m confused how is this supposed to help?” You try to move your head up to look at Wanda but she holds you firmly in place.

“You’ll see baby,” she says. “Now lift my shirt up.” You do as she says and lift her shirt up and you’re greeted by the sight of her naked boobs. Her nipples are firm and erect, a sign that she’s excited about what’s to come. It’s a sight that given other circumstances you would find delectable. However right now you’re confused about what you’re supposed to do and how this will help Wanda.

“Open your mouth.” Wanda’s command answers your unasked question, you know now what Wanda wants you to do. You open your mouth and she pushes your head down.

“Suck my nipples baby,” she says. Her hand tangles in your hair as you pull her nipple into your mouth, giving her no resistance. You start sucking, latching onto her nipple, but then you feel a warm liquid shoot into your mouth. You go to pull off of her but she stops you.

“No baby keep sucking mommy’s nipples. It’s really helping the pain baby. You wanna keep helping mommy don’t you?”

“But mommy,” you try to say but it comes out all muffled.

“I know baby. You weren’t expecting mommy to have milk huh?”

You nod your head, her nipple still in your mouth, her milk still filling you up. You keep sucking, the feeling of such an intimate act makes you feel fuzzy and submissive. It’s the exact headspace that Wanda wants you in.

“You like this don’t you baby? You like drinking mommy’s milk?”

Instead of an answer you just moan around her, which Wanda accepts as an answer.

“Good girl,” she says. “You’re making me feel so good, Now move to the other nipple baby.” You do as she says, switching to her right boob. A rush of milk makes it’s way into your mouth, which you happily drink down.

“You’re doing so good baby. Being such a good girl for me.” Wanda pets your hair as she says this, pulling you further and further down into a fuzzy headspace.

“It feels so good baby,” Wanda says, her breathing coming more erratic and labored.

Noticing how you messing with her nipples is affecting her, you move your right hand up to her left nipple, squeezing and groping it lightly.

“Fuck…you’re doing so good baby. Being such a good girl,” Wanda moans out. The feeling of you sucking and groping her is pushing Wanda to the edge without you even having to touch her pussy.

“Right there baby. Keep sucking on mommy just like that.” You continue doing what you’re doing, her milk still filling your mouth which you greedily suck down. The only thing you can think about is drinking your mommy’s milk and making your mommy feel good.

“I’m gonna cum sweetheart,” is all the warning you have. Wanda starts shaking on the bed, a strong orgasm overcoming her.

Once she had come down she pulls you off of her nipple. You whine, not wanting to let go off her just yet.

“It’s okay baby. It’s okay,” she whispers to you. She gently kisses the top of your head while you nuzzle into her neck, just wanting to be close to her. Wanda’s arms wrap around your torso, your still clothed body being pressed against Wanda’s naked chest. Your core makes contact with Wanda’s thigh, but you don’t care about how good it feels. You only want to be close to your mommy. You seem content until you let out a whine, getting Wanda’s attention. You just Wanda’s nipple in your mouth, but you’re not coherent enough to say that.

“What is it baby? What do you need?”

You’re too far gone to answer, the only thing that is coming out of your mouth is whines.

“It’s okay mommy’s got you,” she says. You try to move your head down, wanting to suck on Wanda’s nipples again when she stops you.

“Mommy’s too sensitive right now baby. You want mommy’s fingers instead?” She offers you two of her fingers which you happily suck on. You tuck your head back into Wanda’s neck, her fingers still in your mouth. Wanda whispers soft praises to you while one of her hands gently rubs your back and the other is stuck in your mouth. You gently suck on her fingers and rub your tongue along their length. The motion is soothing for you, satiating your need for something to suck on.

“You’re being so good for mommy baby,” she says. “Such a good girl.”

A warm feeling starts in your chest and flows throughout your body, the praise making you feel good. Wanda keeps praising you and you start to feel content like this, with Wanda’s fingers in your mouth and her other hand rubbing soothing motions on your back.

Soon the content turns into a sleepy feeling, you’re so relaxing being in Wanda’s arms and having your mouth full, you eventually drift off into a peacefully sleep. The only things on your mind are Wanda and how good sucking on her fingers feels.

[shotmrmiller]

since Simon isn't one to celebrate much, whether it's a holiday or his own birth, it comes as a complete surprise that one day, he's lugging in a stuffed teddy bear the same height as him through the front door.

did you forget your anniversary? no, that was last month. you dog-ear the page of your book, paper folding neatly beneath your fingers before setting it down on the foot table. oh no. what did he do?

"nothin'," he scoffs, "can't bring my girl nothin' nice every once in a while?"

no, actually, he can't. this looks like a 6-foot apology. you ought to keep an eye on the news tonight, in case that young man from the cafe down the street coincidentally ends up missing after asking for your number in the presence of simon last weekend.

"well it isn't. i can take it back if ya like." the rich, chocolate brown fur feels incredibly soft as you thread your fingers through it.

"no, no. thank you for the oversized bear, i'll be sure to throw out the mattress so we can make it fit in the bedroom." you're no big fan of plushies, but you're no ingrate and if he thought of you when he saw this beast well, then you'll just have to accept it.

it sits in a corner of the room after that, beady eyes pointed your way even when you're on all fours with your sweat-slick face pushed into the bedsheets as Simon pistons into you from behind, or when he stuffs his fingers into your sleepy cunt before he goes to work in the morning.

(maybe it's his exhibitionist kink raging full force. who knows.)

until he decides to bring it into play when your mind is fuzzy from the glasses of wine you had for dinner that night. Simon, with your express permission, ties you up with a sturdy, coarse rope, the kind that feels like you've got tiny little claws digging into your calves and wrists when you try to move. he ties face down, legs and arms to the bear's, cheek flat on its chest, the bow on its neck sitting prettily at the crown of your head.

a doll, he says, roughened palms smoothing over the expanse of your bare skin, raising gooseflesh when he glides a hand along your folds, tip of his finger catching on your clit. lookin' pretty as a peach.

he takes you as if he's trying to fuck you right through the bear, the bed, the fucking floor and you're left to muffle your own cries on the stuffed animal itself, occasionally coming up for air when Simon claims a fistful of hair, breath warming the side of your throat.

you come the first time when he pushes a thumb against the furl of your arse, tight ring of muscle burning with the threat of him sinking into it.

(you stopped counting after the third climax, quietly cursing yourself for bagging a military man who's been so deprived of pussy he keeps fucking you even after his own orgasm.)

when you move it to clean up one day and leave it facing whichever way, by night it's facing the bed again.

definitely an exhibitionist kink.

you'll just ask him nicely to face him another way, the eerie red glow you sometimes catch in its eyes are starting to creep you out.

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. dirty talk, sexual themes, aftercare, shy!reader, soft!rafe.

heavy pants filled the air of rafe cameron's bedroom. the breaths bounced from wall to wall as he laid his back against the mattress, chest slightly heaving.

his eyes were busy, darting across each of your features and trying to gauge any emotion.

"c'mere, baby." you felt his hand grab at your upper arm, his own large bicep curling around you, holding you close so you could feel the warmth of his body radiate off of your own.

you were trying to regain your breath, softly breathing through parted lips as your head laid against the boy's chest, legs already beginning to dangle between his own.

it was hard to ignore the sudden heat to your face, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

you'd had sex with rafe quite often and you didn't think he was keen on slowing down anytime soon. though neither were you. however, it was only in your shy nature to feel suddenly flushed against him.

he felt you nuzzle against him. it was almost as if you were trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

his words plagued your memory.

"that feel good, sweetheart, huh?" "fuck, baby, your pussy's so fuckin' warm." "there you go, good girl." "love bein' fucked by this dick, i'nt that right, angel?" "like bein' my good girl, huh? all mine, that's it, baby.".

rafe's lips often spilled words that were awfully crude when he fucked you.

"y'okay, sweetheart?" he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. rafe was typically soft after moments like these, especially like tonight, when he knew he pushed you a little further than normal. "you're quiet. not upset, yeah?"

once again, he felt you nod.

he gently moved you, nudging your face with his nose. "gonna answer me, princess?" you sort of blinked at him. "with words."

he felt you squirm against him. "'m okay." you muttered, though your voice was so quiet it hardly reached his ears. while the tips of your own were turning red.

the stare he was using seemed a little dangerous. "yeah?"

a hum was on the tip of your tongue but it was awfully hard to concentrate when he was looking at you like that. his head slightly tilted, eyes piercing into your own, pretty lips bent into a slight smirk. all you could think about were the filthy things he was whispering in your ears not five minutes ago.

shrinking in on yourself, you had to shy away from him.

finally, he got it.

his lips quirked up into a smirk. "getting shy on me now, huh?" rafe liked to tease. "all shy like you weren't jus' gushin' around my dick, baby?"

"rafe!" you shot your hands up to cover your bashful face with a blush spread across it.

"what?" a half laugh fell from his lips, hands pulling your own from your face so he could look at you. "you liked me talking earlier." you uttered something, rafe didn't hear it. "speak up, angel." nudging your face with his nose for the second time. something about the act seemed soft, gentle.

once again, you squirmed. "'said stop bein' mean."

his brows raised. "how am i being mean, sweetheart?" a laugh on the edge of his tongue but he held it back, not wanting to make you feel more embarrassed than you already did.

"'cause." your fingers were absentmindedly trailing up his arm, eyes too focused on trying to escape having to look at his face. god, you couldn't look at his face.

while rafe was merely staring at yours. "you're cute." the grin sitting on his lips and the cocked brow was enough for you to hide your face in his chest. he heard you mumble something about him having to be quiet. "'m serious, baby." he pulled your face up with his fingers hooked around your chin. "my shy girl, 's so cute."

the way he spoke to you had your head feeling sort of blurry, a floaty feeling that you couldn't quite understand.

"head feelin' fuzzy, princess?" you nodded at his words, confused on how he always knew what was going on inside your head. it seemed he knew better than you did sometimes. "'s okay, pretty girl, c'mere."

for the second time that night, he pulled you in closer, this time you were practically on top of him, bodies wrapping together like gloves. as rafe said, you "fit so perfectly, like 't was made for it."

"that's right, princess, 'm gonna take care of you." with a kiss to the crown of your head which he watched you hide instantly. "gonna take care of my shy girl, yeah?"

all that you could muster was a nod.

[tinythebunni]

15 minutes!! Rafe Cameron

Rafe has barely been outside the door 2 seconds before it’s swinging open and he’s being yanked inside. he takes a glance at whatever hulk just pulled him inside and realizes it’s you. he almost wants to yell at you for opening the door in your tiny ass tank top and lace boy shorts, but he doesn’t. only reason why? you’re already on your knees, salivating at the sight of his bulge.

you palm him through his pants and when he reaches to pull you up for a kiss you shove him back with such force it scares him for a second. he doesn’t get a chance to think about it though. your nimble hands are already pulling his work pants down to his ankles. Rafe’s mouth is wide, pupils blown and head all fuzzy. it’s like you’re a completely different person.

you suck his tip through his boxers. lapping at the shaft and sucking what precum you can through the cloth. it’s a sticky situation but it makes it more fun for you. you’re not just teasing him, but also yourself. he sees a hand between your legs and knows you’re getting off to this. the realization makes his head fall back against the door, your moans vibrating against his aching cock.

he probably looks like an idiot with the way he’s shuffling his boxers down his legs like a little teenage boy. he doesn’t care tho, he just wants you to suck him off and see the tears fall from your eyes as you try and fight off your gag reflex so you can take him as much as possible.

when you finally take him into your mouth it’s like Rafe is having his first blowie all over again. he’s trying so hard not to cum already but it’s so hard with how warm your mouth is. it’s so wet and it’s so disgusting and oh my god you’re humming around his tip, it feels so good. he looks down to try and beg you to give him a second but when he makes eye contact with you you’re eyes are glimmering and that eyebrow of yours raises in question. he’s moaning now, loud and sinful. he can’t even keep quiet how good you’re making him feel and he’s hoping, no PRAYING, that you have all the windows closed. his hand claps against his mouth in an attempt to keep himself quiet but you shake your head at that, slapping his thigh in disappointment.

your tongue is twitching against the bottom half of his cock when you stay there for a second, before pulling up with vigor and swirling your tongue around the tip. you repeat this a few times, noticing how each time Rafe’s legs shake a little more. when he’s getting closer to cumming you think about your end goal, the reason you did all this and it’s egging you on.

what makes rafe tip over the edge is how you take your mouth off his cock with a pop, and he’s almost ready to cry because he was so fucking close. he doesn’t even get a chance to whine though, your hand already stroking him and your mouth lapping at his balls and sucking and pulling on them. it’s so good and it’s so much and he can’t take it. he’s moaning all over the place, chest flushed and sweaty, head reeling all over the place. he can’t even think straight without you making his legs jelly and his mouth slot open.

he doesn’t notice how you keep looking at the watch on his wrist until he’s finally pushing your head down on the last thrust into your mouth, the one that sends him reeling and cumming down your throat. the warm liquid leaving u giddy and silly! you cum right after him, fingers still rubbing your clit in time with his orgasm and the thrusts from before. once you cum, you dip your fingers into your hole and get them nice and wet for him. Rafe watches as you stand up on slightly shaky legs and shove your fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sucks all that flavor off your fingers and into his throat. he opens his eyes and sees your mouth in a pouty o, your cheeks flushed and panties soaked. when you finally remove your fingers he can catch his breath to ask “what was that for?”

“wanted to see if i could make u cum in 15 minutes or less!” and with that you bounce off to his room, looking back at him halfway up the stairs. a tease and an invitation.

‘oh hell yea’ Rafe thinks, following you, almost tripping over his pants that he forgot was around his ankles.

[rafesangelita]

♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?

warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation

a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3

wc: 1.2k

“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.

you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.

“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.

“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.

“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.

rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.

you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.

you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.

rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.

you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.

“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.

“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.

you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep before slipping out of your window again.

[flwrkid14]

Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated

There’s a new dynamic in the Batfamily, and nobody saw it coming. Jason Todd—Red Hood, former Robin, perennial black sheep of the Wayne family—has apparently decided that Tim Drake is his son. And no one, least of all Tim, knows what to do about it.

It starts subtly, if you can call Jason “subtle.” He starts showing up when Tim’s been too busy to eat, tossing him a burger or some takeout with a gruff, “Eat, Replacement.” He’s there when Tim’s working himself to the bone, slamming the laptop shut and growling about how his kid isn’t going to die of exhaustion on his watch. When Tim’s in over his head, Jason’s suddenly there, guns blazing, a protective shadow with a deadly smirk.

Tim’s confused. Very confused. Jason has always been... antagonistic, at best. But now he’s... scolding him? Encouraging him? Telling him he’s proud when Tim does something impressive? The man even started calling him “kid” instead of “Replacement,” which is somehow worse because it makes Tim feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What is happening?

Eventually, Tim asks. And Jason, in true Jason fashion, gives an explanation that doesn’t explain much at all.

“Look, Dick’s already treating Damian like his own kid, Bruce is busy helping Duke figure out his place in the family, Cass and Babs are practically attached at the hip—like sisters or something. And you?” Jason shrugs. “You’re my kid.”

Tim stares. “I’m your what?”

“My kid,” Jason repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re smart, you’re resourceful, you’ve got my stubbornness—which, yeah, is annoying—and someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Congrats, kid. You’ve been adopted.”

It doesn’t really explain anything, but Tim decides not to argue. After all, Jason’s kind of a good dad? He feeds Tim, checks in on him, teaches him things like how to hotwire a car (Tim already knows, but Jason’s so enthusiastic about it that Tim doesn’t have the heart to tell him). And Jason has his back in a way that feels steady, solid. Like he’s not going anywhere.

The thing is, Jason doesn’t stop there. He starts talking about Tim in ways that make Tim want to crawl under a rock. To Roy, to Kory, to anyone who’ll listen. “My kid’s a genius,” Jason brags, his voice filled with so much pride it makes Tim’s chest ache. “Runs a whole company and saves Gotham on the side. Kid’s got a brain the size of the Batcomputer.”

And it’s not just talk. Jason drags Tim along to meet-ups with other vigilantes or allies, casually introducing him like a proud dad at a PTA meeting. “This is Tim,” Jason says, grinning ear to ear. “My kid. Smartest of the bunch, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Tim flushes, stammering out an awkward, “Uh, hi,” while Jason beams like he’s just presented a Nobel Prize winner.

The height of Tim’s mortification comes when Jason introduces him to Talia—not as a fellow vigilante or even a respected ally, but as his son. Talia, who had become something of a mother figure to Jason after the Pit, is apparently now being roped into her new role as a grandmother. Jason insists it’s only right that she meet her “grandkid” and treat Tim accordingly. Tim, meanwhile, wants to disappear into the floor while Jason beams with unrestrained pride.

“Yeah, this is my boy,” Jason says, arms crossed, radiating smug pride. “Smart, resourceful, better than Bruce—don’t even try to deny it.”

Tim wants the floor to open up and swallow him. But he also can’t help feeling... warm. Embarrassed, yes, but also kind of happy. Jason’s over-the-top pride is ridiculous, but it’s genuine. It’s not something Tim’s used to—someone being proud of him just for being himself.

And of course, Jason’s newfound dad energy throws the rest of the family into chaos.

Bruce tries to scold Tim about something minor—maybe staying out too late on patrol—and Tim just raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna tell my dad,” he says, completely deadpan. And then he does. Jason shows up at the Batcave later, tearing into Bruce about how his kid doesn’t need this kind of negativity in his life, and Bruce is left speechless.

Damian tries to insult Tim, calling him a weak link or some other scathing remark, and Tim smirks. “Careful, Damian. I’m your nephew now. Better watch your mouth, or Uncle Jason might have something to say about it.”

Even Dick’s thrown off by it. “Jay,” he says one day, watching Jason shove a plate of food at Tim with all the grace of a brick. “You do realize Tim isn’t actually your son, right?”

Jason glares at him. “He’s mine. I’m the dad here. You’ve got Demon Spawn, I’ve got Tim. Deal with it.”

Tim doesn’t understand how or why this happened, but honestly? He’s not complaining. Jason might not be the most conventional parent, but he’s a damn good one. And for Tim, who’s always felt a little lost in the shuffle of the chaotic Wayne family, having someone claim him so fiercely, so completely, feels... nice.

So yeah. Jason Todd: Red Hood, vigilante, crime lord, accidental dad. Who would’ve thought?

[l13]

cw: nsfw 18+, MDNI, fever sex, f!reader, lazy writing, not proofread

DEAN is half-lidded, can barely keep his eyes open. You're starting to get worried so you press your palm down against his chest to move away from him, but he grabs your waist, pulling you back down on his cock. “No, no, no, don't stop, don't y'dare stop,”

You whine, “But Dean- you're burning up.” and he really was. You could tell by touching his pecs, the skin too warm under your fingertips, and you could also tell by his pulsing cock inside of you. The hot sensation spreading through your cunt, the warmth traveling up to your belly.

Dean hisses, “It's this pussy- h my God- so warm baby, could stay inside you forever-”

He pushes you skin tight against him with a hand on the small of your back, his arms then circling around your frame as he holds you close, his breath fanning against your lips as he moans lowly

Holding his cheek in your palm, your eyes dance across his face as his head tilts back, eyes rolling from the feeling of your cold hand against him.

“Just like that honey, fuck yourself onto me c'mon. Want y'to cum all over me.” he was mumbling, his words barely coherent, yet his hips never stopped snapping up against you, chasing your hot cunt.

“Jesus, Dean-” you whimper against his lips as you roll your hips in circles, making sure he stays snug inside you, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone making your thighs shake “m gonna cum” you cry out, and he groans, giving you open mouth kisses, his thoughts too fuzzy to even kiss you properly.

Your walls clamp down on him, and he moans, “Yess, yeah that's it- fuck- squeezin' me so damn tight sweetheart-” his cock now gliding easier in and out of your puffy pussy with the help of your wetness

Despite the aftershocks, your body twitching, and your thighs begging you to take a break, you keep going. Now, sloppily fucking yourself down on his warm cock, as you egg him on, “Come on baby, cum for me. I want it s'bad,”

His cheeks are flushed, mouth hanging open n' eyes crossed as he stares into nothing, “Yes yes yes, oh please- please make me cum- i'll do anything just please-”

His voice cracks as he begs you, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, nails digging into your skin as he follows the movements of your hips, feeling the coil in his belly slowly unfold.

You place your hands behind you on his thighs, leaning back as you keep your relentless pace and he groans pathetically, sitting up to moan against your tits as he cums, snapping his hips up against you roughly to make sure he’s as deep as he can go, feeling his cum and your slick messing up the inside of his thick thighs.

You’re panting hard as you slow down, thighs still twitching every now and then as you run your fingers through his hair, murmuring praises against his temple, lips warming up quickly since he was still burning up.

“You okay? you ask, and he nods against your shoulder, moaning huskily when he gives another slow roll up against you, “Dean let's go have a look at you, I’m getting worried baby-”

“Wait.” he snaps his half lidded eyes up to yours, a tear running down his cheek as he grins lazily, “Wanna go again. Please?”

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[pucksandpower]

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

I need Rafe’s arm around my neck so bad it hurts…

+18

“I want you to beg,” he huffs, yanking my hair, hauling me close, back pressed against his heaving chest. Rafe edges me again, bringing me to the brink for the fifth time, just to cool me down, and start up again. One arm wraps around my throat in a chokehold, squeezing tightly, while his other grips my hip with a bruising hold.

“Please.”

“Please,” he copies my pathetic tone as he constricts my airway with his muscular arm. Rafe starts rocking in and out. I can feel every ridge and vein as his fat cock drags through my sopping core, slow and deep, making my eyes roll back. I feel myself getting lightheaded at the lack of air, but Rafe doesn’t care. “Beg.”

“Please, daddy. Let me cum,” I pant wearily.

“That’s all daddy gets? A ‘please’? Who taught you how to beg, angel? That’s fuckin’ pathetic. Try again.”

“Can’t take it Rafe-” My voice cuts off as I feel my orgasm building again, vision fuzzy, mind dazed.

“Hey. Stay with me, kid,” he sneers, his warm breath fanning over my sweat-glistened skin as he laughs cruelly.

“I’ll fucking die for your dick, Rafe. I don’t know what else I can say to you,” I choke out the words.

”Jesus. Can you calm down?“ He chuckles. “Such a fuckin’ whore for my cock. Beggin’ for me like the slut you are. You’d die for this dick. Huh? You’d do anything wouldn’t you?”

“Anything.”

“Shit… You breathin’ alright, doll?” He snickers as my lashes flutter closed.

Rafe loosens his grip causing me to gasp for air, guiding my chin, to meet his piercing blue eyes. His large hand works a little lower, tracing the hallow of my throat as he kisses my lips soft and sweet. His ringed hand binds around my neck.

“You’d really die for this?” He asks softly against my mouth as his rough fingers start to tap on my clit matching my rapid heartbeat felt under his grasp.

“Yes, daddy,” I whimper.

“Good girl.”

[dearhargrove]

summary for all that he’s rough, you're soft.

word count 817

You're all over him the second he comes home. He's covered in blood, sweat and other substances — all from his most recent ‘hunt’.

And yet you're clinging to him, arms around his narrow waist and pretty smiling face pushed into his chest. He has soft sides to him, goofy ones, that usually only come out when he's with his brother Dimitri. But with you he finds himself uncaring, not masking any emotions whatsoever.

“You took longer than I thought.. had me worried.” It's a murmur into his skin and his large hands gently wrap around your waist in reassurance, “I am fine. Not a scratch.”

It's a lie and you both know it; he's bruised up and bloody in too many places for you to not be worried.

“Go, you need a shower.”

He obeys your command and does a quick playful bow, which makes you chuckle. As you're about to go back to your previous task of putting new sheets on the bed you feel yourself being lifted up and held to a firm chest. With a yelp you grab at the next best thing – in this case his shoulders.

“I think I deserve my girl in the shower, too.”

He grins and when he's in the bathroom he sets you down on the counter next to the sink, making it his task to carefully and slowly undress you, leaving you only in panties. When you're bare he momentarily stops in his tracks, eyes taking in your soft and unmarred skin.

“Never gonna let anything happen to you,” he suddenly promises, firmly gripping your thighs. Your pout from being manhandled turns into a soft expression and you hum knowingly, pecking his shoulder sweetly.

“I know.”

He stares thoughtfully for a moment longer, then takes his own pants off and gets into the shower to adjust the water temperature, holding out his hand to you when the water is warm.

You slide off the counter, take your panties off and grasp his hand, not fully able to wrap your fingers around his large palm and let him pull you under the stream of water.

His eyes are just as intense as always as he watches you get your hair soaked and body warmed up. Blindly reaching for your shampoo he makes a noise in the back of his throat before firm fingers begin to massage your shampoo into your scalp and hair carefully.

While the water washes away the suds you open your eyes again, adoring smile on your face. “Hi, handsome.”

He huffs in amusement and shortly taps under your chin.

The shower takes as long as it usually does when you share, him insisting to wash your hair and your body, then in turn huffing at being pampered himself. When you step out he has a steadying hand on your waist to prevent any accidents on the damp floor, already wrapping a soft towel around your body before you could even ask for one.

While he does your hair care for you, you focus on brushing your teeth and doing the little skincare you own — turning to grin at him with your face shiny with lotion and smelling of sugar and sweetness.

He pokes your side before brushing his own teeth, running his fingers through his curls and calling it a day.

“Sergei,” you pout, always quick to keep his skin from going dry as well as his hair. He sighs and bends down enough so you can reach, already accustomed to your little routine, as you lotion his face and put some hair oil into his curls.

“All done.” He hums and looks at you with all the adoration in the world mirrored in his blue eyes. He's still shirtless, only in his boxers – and of course wearing the necklace – while you're in your pajamas, fuzzy socks, slippers and a soft bathrobe.

He can't help but count himself the luckiest man alive; living a life as comfortable as this, no matter the side of brutality, with a girl like you waiting for him at home every day.

Acting on his desire he easily picks you up and carries you pressed to his firm chest into bed, careful as he lays you down.

“I'm being spoiled,” you giggle and he melts just a little further, letting your hands pull him down onto the mattress so you can cuddle into his side and use his chest as a pillow.

“Always need to spoil my girl,” he muses, fingers spread on your lower back.

You smile into his skin and trace invisible shapes on his firm abs, already halfway into a nap. You just barely hear it when he mumbles an ‘I love you’ and kisses the top of your head, but it makes you smile and squeeze impossibly closer to him.