#one hand around your mouth to keep you quiet
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chobunz · 2 days ago
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Who in enha mtl enjoy giving head/who you think would be the best at eating 🐱
ngl this one was kinda hard cs i feel like all of them would rlly enjoy giving/receiving head but i (tried) my best nonnie !! >_<
pair: legal line ㅊ f!reader | warnings: smut, oral (f. rec), d/s dynamics, fingering, overstim, edging.. i might’ve missed smth but its 2 am and i’m hella sleepy soooo
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eating you out is heeseung’s favorite pastime. that boy practically lives between your legs in his free time. he could be having a bad day and he swears that giving you head is the remedy to cure everything. i think sometimes, he’d bring you to his studio and ask to eat you out when he’s having trouble with his creative flow/when he needs some motivation, idk he’s just kinda silly like that lol. plus he’d look all cute while he’s begging to and looking up at you with the most precious doe eyes, asking for one (1) single orgasm to get his brain going. just really loves knowing that he can always please you with his mouth, often getting hard to the thought of the view you’ll bless him with while he’s down there. proudly obsessed with your pussy and would do anything to get to taste you on his tongue <3
jake is theee pleasure dom. eating your pussy just makes him feel good along with you, getting a sense of accomplishment after making you cum a few times with his tongue only. often has wet dreams of like.. just eating you out. wakes up and makes it his mission to make you cum as many times as he can using his mouth. i think he’d be very strategic (?) with how he eats you out, wanting to figure out a way to make you feel the best you can which leads to many sessions of him just experimenting and observing the way you react to him ?? results in jake ‘accidentally’ teasing and edging you for what feels like hours, feeling mean when you whimper and deciding to reward you with anything you ask for. you’ll have to speak up though or he’ll just continue his teasing ! ><
jay is just very sexy idk, i feel like he’d love giving you head a lot. the feeling of being sandwiched between your plushy thighs turns him on badly, loving all the praise he gets while he licks and sucks you to your liking. i think he’d also very much love when you use his mouth to get off.. like hips pushed up against his face when you get whiny and desperate. or maybe he’s in a different mood and would lightly tap your clit with three fingers when you squirm below him as a warning— it depends tbh. i put him here because i think he’d like using his cock the most to pleasure you, often getting up from your cunt to fuck you because he’s also very desperate….. T-T
sunghoon mainly uses his hands to get you off. prefers being hands on with you. like he loves to taste you but i think he’d definitely also enjoy fingering you more because it’s more intimate in a way (?) like he gets to kiss you and feel your hands all over him while you moan into his mouth.. it’s heaven for him he thinks. he just loves how you feel cumming around his fingers, kissing the temple of your head when you cum for the nth time that night despite you constantly begging for his cock that’s pressed painfully against your side. he gets you to quiet down with his other hand, covering your mouth because only he’s allowed to hear you like this. sunghoon’s main goal is to make you squirt with his fingers so he’s determined…
jungwon’s the type to get pussy drunk, then would try to manipulate you into believing you’re the one who’s needy when he’s literally the one acting like a starved man. his tongue lapping at your pussy and moaning into you with his arms locked around your thighs to keep you in place. i think that eating pussy isn’t something he does as often because of the way he loses self control, which is why i put him here on the list. but even when he’s pussy drunk, jungwon is pushing your limits by making you cum over and over despite your pleas to get him off your overstimulated clit.
sunoo will give you anything you want. i can picture him with a very spoiled, bratty sub, whining about wanting to be eaten out and complaining when he gets up from being buried in between your legs after generously giving you orgasm after orgasm. he’s always eager to please and doesn’t waste a second to give his princess whatever she wants !! like he wouldn’t even punish you for being super bratty, just listening to what you ask of him and allowing your hand to push him into his place <33
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i have a lot asks like these in my inbox so i’m gonna try n get thru them all as quickly as i can + i like doing short stuff like this to help me ease back into writing again ! also, if you wanna send me a short request like this feel free to ^_^
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starsinthesky5 · 1 day ago
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make me juno* || joe burrow x reader
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description: he loves you right and he wants your touch for life too. you realize one of you is cute, but two though? you just might let him make you juno ;)
a/n: surprise! felt the urge to write this so here we are. ALSO, I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE I SAW JUNO PREFORMED LIVE. LIKE BITCH. I CANT. 
i hope this doesn’t suck lol. i’ve been in a slump lately and i feel so bad for keeping everyone waiting like this ;(
warnings: SMUT. it’s alot. ALOT. & language. MDNI
word count: 16.1 k
taglist (comment and ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeys-babe @joeyb1989 @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87
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“God, he looks so hot when he gets out of the shower,” you murmured under your breath, feeling a rush of heat rise from your toes to your head. “If he just grabbed me by the hips and threw me underneath him, pressed that mouth against my ear…put that hand on my stomach, holding me in place like I’m his entire world…oh god I would–…,” you daydreamed. Your breath hitched at the thought and your eyes screwed shut from the images you were seeing, it was almost too much, the way just the sight of him could set your mind and body on fire. 
And then you heard his voice, soft and teasing. “You okay over there?” he asked you because of how quiet you had been since he came out of the bathroom.  
You opened them a few seconds later, your cheeks red because you thought he caught you red-handed but when you glanced over at the cause of your friskiness–your husband–he was innocently sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to you. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends and a few stray water droplets clung to his golden skin as he squeezed out the final dab of his favorite lotion–cucumber scented, something you put him on–and began massaging it into his collarbone. He looked so relaxed and at peace, but your mind was far from the leisurely place he was likely in. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to share the idea that had been swirling in your head all evening since he came home from practice. 
When he first walked in with that Bengals beanie on his head, those gray sweats hanging low around his waist, and that adorable baby pink Nike sweatshirt clinging to his frame, you nearly fainted. How could he look so adorable yet so sexy at the same time? Like he was one second away from holding a little baby in his arms or one second away from putting a baby inside of you. 
You were already teetering on the edge, your hormones wreaking havoc inside you after he left you high and dry this morning, so his post-practice look made it much worse. He’d skipped out on a quick, pre-practice rendezvous, leaving your needs painfully unmet. What started as a soft, gentle good morning kiss quickly shifted to a sloppy, breathless makeout session, his hands pulled you closer as you begged for his touch–or anything–to bring relief to the ache in between your thighs. But his multiple alarms had other plans. 
So as he made his swift exit, you were left to fend for yourself. There were several things you could have done while he was away to experience that delicious ecstasy coursing through your veins. However, you rarely took matters into your own hands because you didn’t want to take away Joe’s right to see you reach that blissful state—the one he was responsible for inducing for the rest of his life ever since he slipped that beautiful diamond ring onto your finger. He prided himself when it came to bringing you to that heavenly place, so you never wanted to strip him of his right. It was the way he carefully watched your every reaction to know what you liked and didn’t like, his focus persistent, as if your pleasure was his biggest accomplishment. It was his right, his privilege, to unravel you in that way. 
So, you did your best to push those heated thoughts to the back of your mind, even if they lingered long enough to leave you flustered for the rest of the day. And it felt like every little thing was working against you; the graze of your clothing against your skin, the way your mind would wander back to the last time his hands were on you, and even the painfully innocent texts from him that asked how your day was going. 
You were so fucking horny and there was nothing you could do about it. 
And then when you saw him once he came home from practice, those hormones went into overdrive fast. It’s as if every sense was heightened. Every time his fingers would graze over your clothed shoulder, you felt like ripping your clothes off. Whenever his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than usual, you felt like pouncing onto him. Every time he curled up on the couch to work on the pac-man arcade Lego set you bought him, you daydreamed about him building a Lego set with his little one, his child, your baby…one day.  
Those daydreams had become quite frequent, to be honest.
You and Joe had been married for a little over a year now, and married life was everything you had dreamed of. Maybe even more. It still felt as though you two were dating because the spark between you hadn’t dulled; it only deepened. Everything about your life as husband and wife felt easy, natural, and light, almost as if you two were perfectly in sync. 
Your home became a safe space filled with reminders of your love; framed photos from your honeymoon lining the walls, the scent of his cologne lingering on all your clothes and blankets, and a daily habit of finding tiny notes he left for you in the most random places. It was like living in your own little bubble of love, unbothered by the chaos of the outside world. Those evenings when you’d lounge together on the couch, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder as you watched the latest episode of some trashy reality TV show, were your favorites. Those nights when you’d cook together, teasing each other about who was better at chopping the vegetables, which would eventually turn into a food fight because neither of you would admit defeat, was maximum domestic bliss for you. And other nights, when you’d order takeout and slow dance in the kitchen, barefoot and carefree to “Enchanted” by Taylor Swift, reassured you that you made the right choice by saying yes to spending forever with your favorite person in the entire world. 
Everything was perfect with just the two of you, yet in those quiet moments when you caught Joe’s soft gaze lingering on a family, or the way he playfully messed up your nephew’s hair, or like earlier, when he’d come home looking like he was coming home to his wife and baby, you couldn’t help but wonder what life would look like if it was the three of you. 
The thought came unprovoked sometimes, like when you’d be in the grocery store, lost in thought imagining the faint pitter-patter of tiny feet across the hardwood floors because you walked past the baby clothes, or picturing Joe cradling a baby in his strong arms because you saw his teammates doing so with their families. You wondered what it would be like to have your own little one–a perfect blend of the two of you.
There was no rush, of course. Life with Joe felt full and beautiful just the way it was–just the two of you and football, a rhythm you’d fallen into easily and had been dancing to since LSU. But lately, the thoughts of Joe talking to your baby bump had become more common and it made your heart ache in the best way. You could almost imagine waking up in the morning to his cheek pressed against your belly, whispering promises to his little tiger who was growing inside of you. It felt so vivid, so real, that it left you breathless. 
You had talked about wanting kids together before you got engaged and you two were on the same page about all of it, like you were about everything else in your relationship. But the one thing you had never talked about was when. 
The idea of Joe as a father made you want to kick your feet back and forth like a little girl; the image, the idea of it, was absolutely adorable and tooth-rottingly sweet. You wanted to see his hands, the ones that clung to you, cradling a tiny bundle of joy that you both created through your love for one another. You wanted to hear his adorable little laugh as he played peekaboo or watch his face light up the face time your baby wrapped their little fingers around his. 
You knew it wasn’t about if, only when. You wanted it, him, and everything that future could hold so badly that it made you ache in ways you couldn’t even put into words. He was your home, your safe place, your everything. Joe had this way of filling every corner of your heart, making you feel so cherished and complete, and the thought of sharing that love with your child was overwhelming in the most beautiful way. You adored him more than you thought it was possible to adore anyone. You had no doubt he’d make the best father and the way he cared for you, for the people he loved, was proof enough. 
You needed this with him. God, you’d do anything to have it with him.
“...Joe?” you finally said, snapping out of your thoughts.
He turned around slightly to look at you, placing the bottle of lotion to the side and raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”. 
You felt a wave of nervousness come over you, but you were already too lost in those thoughts to go back. “Here goes nothing,” you thought as you flipped onto your back, your head leaning against the bed frame as you held your phone close to your chest, “...H- Have you ever thought about…spicing things up a little?” you asked, your voice so faint and gentle, almost trying to sound innocent. 
Joe tilted his head in confusion, “Spicing things…up?” he echoed. “What do you mean?” he added with a small chuckle. 
You felt your heartbeat increase, your breathing deepening, and your palms becoming sweatier by the second. You sat up, still clutching your phone, “Like new…positions? I- I was doing some late-night research,” you said, trying to remain casual but you couldn’t help but wince at the burning sensation in your cheeks.
Joe’s lips shifted into a smirk as he turned to face you fully, his gray sweatpants hanging loosely around his waist and his bare chest basically an open invitation for you to mark him up. “Late-night research, huh? Even late at night, you’re thinking 'bout me?” he wiggled his eyebrows and said. “What exactly did you find?” he chuckled. 
You quickly unlocked your phone and pulled up the image you had saved earlier–a diagram of a particularly intricate position that had you on edge for the past few hours because of the mental image it gave you. “Have you ever tried, this one?” you asked, holding your phone out to him. 
Joe’s eyebrows shot up as he studied the screen, “Wowwww,” he said, dragging it out with a giggle. “This looks… ambitious,”.
You broke out into a laugh, sitting up on your knees and moving closer to him, “You mean to tell me, Mr. Quarterback doesn’t think he can handle it?” you teased. 
His eyes snapped up to yours, a playful yet challenging sparkle in them, “Oh, I can handle it,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “But can you?”.
You eyed him up and down for a second, feeling the heat in your belly grow with each glance at the little happy trail below his belly button which led to what you were craving. “Don’t underestimate your wife, Burrow. She’s got moves,” you said, running your hand up his muscular chest, your ruby-red nails leaving light scratches as you inched toward his neck. 
“Oh, does she now?” he smiled, moving closer to you. 
“Yes, she does. Maybe you should let her show you?” you whispered, moving closer to him, your lips planting a few light kisses along his jaw to finish your sentence. 
Joe pulled back, meeting your tell-tale eyes to see if you were serious, and the unwavering fire behind them told him you were. He grabbed your phone from your hand, setting it down on the nightstand, his grin widening, “Alright, challenge accepted. But don’t get mad if this turns into an Olympic-level workout,”. 
“Gotta go for the gold, baby,” you winked. “We’re too skilled to back down,”. 
— 
A little later, the two of you were naked and sprawled across the bed, Joe holding the phone up for reference as you tried to untangle yourselves from the failed first attempt at the intimate position. “Wait,” he said, squinting at the screen. “Is your leg supposed to go over my shoulder or–,”. 
“Your leg!” you cut him off, giggling as you pointed to the diagram. “It’s definitely your leg! But wait, I think we have it all wrong because no leg needs to go over a shoulder. Is the photo upside down?”. You were even unsure of it yourself, you never really switched it up like this in the bedroom so this was equally as hilarious as intimidating. 
Joe groaned as he dropped his head, then flopped onto his back dramatically, “This is starting to feel like a TikTok challenge, babe. Sex should not be this difficult,”. 
You grabbed the pillow from underneath your head and whacked him with it as giggles fell from your lips, “You’re the one who said you could handle it!”. 
He caught the pillow, tossing it to the side as he rolled back toward you, “I know, but whoever made these positions clearly is against getting laid because half the time would get wasted just figuring out whose leg goes where. Maybe we should just stick to what we do best? That always works best for us and things…things are already super spicy whenever you end up underneath me, why try to change it?” he winked as his smile softened. 
“You’re probably right. I don’t feel like being more sore than usual for no reason and that looks like something that’d make me pull a leg muscle or two,” you laughed. 
“You still up for it? Or did you just want to do something different tonight and you’re over it now,” he asked, pushing a few strands of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to push you into doing something if you weren’t feeling it anymore, he only cared about your pleasure and he was worried that not being able to figure this out would put a dent in your high. 
“Oh, yes,” you groaned, waving away his worries. “I’ve been about 5 seconds away from letting go ever since you left me high and dry this morning,” the words falling out of your mouth instantly with no shame or hesitation. 
Joe’s face dropped slightly, “Sorry about that,”. He really did feel bad for leaving you this morning, but he knew better than to be late to today’s practice. The day before, you woke up similarly, except Joe’s head was stuffed in between your thighs for ten minutes before he held you on top of him for another twenty. The extra thirty minutes in bed–although blissful and oh-so-delicious–caused him to be the last one in the facility and the last one to get to the morning meeting, and everyone was on his ass about it. Especially, because of that pretty golden tattoo you left on his neck that he forgot to cover up. 
“Damn, Joe. Ever since you got married it’s like you became even more pussy whipped than you were before,” Ja’marr teased. 
“God Damn, Joe. Give Y/N a break before she starts sleeping in the guestroom. She’s probably tired of your ass,” Tee laughed, earning a chuckle from Ja’marr. 
“Listen, son. I know being young and in love and newly married is…uh…exciting and…*cough*...thrilling..but you have a job and as the team leader, it doesn’t look good to walk in here with your shirt on backward and those marks on your neck. Bad example for the guys,” Zac awkwardly whispered to him. 
“Ah,” you interjected, pushing a finger to his pink, plump lips. “I’m not mad. I’m just so fucking horny and the way you looked when you came home plus the way you looked after your shower made it worse,”. 
He wishes he could show this to them right now. It would be the perfect, “Loserrrrr” moment for him to tease his guys about. You would and could never get tired of him, or this. 
He raised an eyebrow at your cheeky confession, “Really?”. 
“Mhm,” you nodded. “I don’t care how we do it, I just want you,” you said softly, your hand shifting into his hair as you pushed him closer to you, close enough to press your lips against his. 
Joe melted into your lips the moment they collided, his hands naturally found your hips, gripping them firmly, pulling you to him as if he couldn’t bear to let go. In one swift motion, his body shifted and he was on top of you again. His movements were unhurried but filled with a desperate kind of tenderness that made your heart race. He wanted you just as badly, if not more. Ever since he slid that gorgeous ring onto your finger, something in him shifted. Joe had always been obsessed with you, but now? Now, it was like he literally couldn’t function without you. Just one glance at your face, whether you were freshly awake with a bedhead or dressed up for a night out, his composure would crumble. You’d catch him staring at you every so often, his eyes dark and filled with lust, and before you knew it, you were pushed against the closest surface and his name was falling from your lips over and over. 
It didn’t take much to push him over the edge, the mere sound of your laugh and the curve of your smile were enough to drive him crazy. Joe might have been many things, but with you? He was a man utterly and unapologetically consumed by love, and by you. 
“Just hold me and explore me, baby. Stick to what you do best, that’s more than enough,” you murmured between kisses, your voice soft and laced with affection. His lips stilled for a second as he absorbed your words, and when his eyes met yours, they were filled with a familiar promise of love and devotion. Without breaking the kiss, his hand reached back for the white sheets, tugging them over the two of you. 
You felt his thick erection slide against your slick folds, each slip and slide sending a flutter throughout your belly, the sensation prompting you to pull away. ���Please,” you hissed, “I need it,”. 
“I know, baby,” he chuckled, pushing your lips back to his as he pressed you further back into the cloud-like bed. “You’re so wet…wonder what got you like this,”. 
“You,” you whimpered, feeling his lips slide along your jawline, then to that spot on your neck that he loved, and then anywhere they could go to hear your pretty, soft, open-mouthed moans. “J- Joe,” you whispered, feeling him position his cock right at your entrance while he suckled on the spot below your ear.
“Hold on for me,” he groaned, then pushed into your warm, dripping core in one strong movement. 
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, fingers digging into his taut muscles as you clung to him with everything you had.
His body moved against yours with a fast, frantic need, every thrust igniting a fire that burned hotter with each second. His rhythm was raw and relentless as if he couldn’t bear to have an inch of space between you. The sound of your bodies moving together, skin against skin, became a beautiful, intimate soundtrack as he pushed into you with a force that stole your breath. The way his eyes were glued to yours and how his arms caged you in, creating a safe yet electrifying cocoon, was another thing that you loved about him. He focused all of his attention on you at all times, it felt like you were the only thing in his world.
“Tell me I’m the only one, baby,” you whimpered, your voice cracking as his cock grazed that perfect, sensitive spot inside you with every snap of his hips.  
His breath was hot and rough against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Oh, fuck, baby…fuck, yeah…you’re the only one,” he moaned, his voice low and strained with pleasure. “The. only. one. who. has. me. like. this.” his words were punctuated by the unwavering rhythm of his thrusts, each one powerful and deliberate, driving you closer and closer to the edge.  
“Just like that, baby,” you whimpered. The way your walls clenched around him made his head fall to your shoulder, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself deeper. “So good for me, angel,” he groaned, his voice turning into a low growl as he thrusted harder, his movements exact yet full of raw desperation. Every push and pull of his body against yours sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, your senses completely overwhelmed by him.  
Another moan escaped your lips, louder this time, as his pace quickened. “Oh, oh…oh, fuck, Joey. I can’t…,” you cried out, your nails digging into his back, your entire body trembling beneath him.  
“Yes, you can,” he rasped, his hand sliding down your body and gripping your thigh, pulling it higher around his waist to angle you even closer to him. The shift made his cock hit even deeper, and your cry of pleasure turned into a near scream as he drove into you relentlessly, chasing both of your releases. 
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gritted out, his forehead pressed against yours as his hips snapped against you with a rhythm that left no room to think–only to feel. “You’re mine, angel. All mine,”. 
The way he claimed you, the way he adored you, held you, and explored you, the way his body pressed against yours so completely, was intoxicating. The sound of his deep groans, the slap of your bodies meeting, and the way his hand slid up your waist to cup your face was too much, and yet, not enough. “I’m so close, baby,” you whimpered, your legs shaking as you clung to him, overwhelmed by the mere passion in his voice.  
“Let go for me,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours as his thrusts became harder, deeper, his movements rough yet perfectly attuned to your body. “I’ve got you, angel. Let go. I’m right here,”.  
And with one final thrust, his body pressed against yours, the band in your belly shattered, your cries of pleasure filling the room as waves of satisfaction crashed over you. “Joe…oh my god! Joe!” you moaned, panting as the aftermath of your high vibrated throughout your body. “You feel…you feel so- so good, fuck. Joe,”.
Joe’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his release, his groans getting louder and more uneven in your ear. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten, his body tensing against yours. “Baby, fuck, I’m so close,” he groaned, his voice strained with need. But then, his hips faltered for just a moment as the realization hit him. “Shit…I forgot the condom,” he muttered breathlessly, his thrusts slowing slightly. “I’ll pull out, I swear–,”. 
His words barely registered in your brain as they were drowned out by the heat building inside you and the idea that suddenly sparked in your mind. Your heart raced, but not from nerves–it was something else. A lightbulb moment. This could be the start of what you’d been wanting, what you’d been dreaming of for so long. This could be a way to have that conversation with him later…maybe even act on it before talking about it… 
“No,” you murmured, your voice trembling but stable enough to catch his attention. “Don’t pull out, Joe. It’s okay,”.
Joe rarely ever came inside of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was more so that back then, having a kid in college or while he was trying to make a name for himself in the NFL wasn’t exactly ideal. You both had sex like this a lot, raw and with no barriers, but he found other spots to push out his release other than being inside of you. So right now, when you said that you wanted him to come inside of you, he was slightly confused. 
His eyes widened, his movements stuttering as he processed what you said. “Baby…you’re not on anything,” he said hesitantly, his forehead pressing against yours. There was a twinge of uncertainty in his voice, even though his body was trembling with need, his will hanging by a thread. “Are you sure?”.
You nodded, your hands sliding up his back to hold him closer, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “It’s okay, Joey,”.
Maybe he would take the hint? That you weren’t just saying this because you were too caught up in the lust to think straight, but that you actually wanted this���wanted more than this.  
His breathing hitched, and for a moment, he looked as though he was going to argue. But the way you gazed up at him, your words full of love and comfort, completely untangled him. His hesitation melted away, replaced by an overwhelming desire and trust. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips snapping back into rhythm, harder and more desperate this time. “You’re gonna kill me, baby…fuck, I can’t hold it,” he growled, his thrusts turning frantic as he buried himself deeper, chasing his release.  
You moaned loudly, the intensity of his movements sending you spiraling into pleasure once again. The thought of him spilling into you, of this moment potentially being the start of something new, pushed you over the edge. “Do it, Joey,” you urged breathlessly. “I want you to. Please. Give it to me, baby.”  
With a choked groan, he finally let go, his body tensing as he gave in. “Oh, fuck,” he growled, his hips jerking erratically as he came inside you, his release hot and overwhelming as he pressed himself as deeply as he could, holding you tightly as he rode out his climax. His breaths were shaky as he came down, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Shit, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of disbelief. “I can’t believe we just…,”. 
You smiled, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your tone soft and reassuring. “I’m okay. You’re okay,”.
He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any doubt, but all he found was love and certainty. Slowly, a smile broke through his post-climax fog, and he leaned in to kiss you tenderly. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured against your lips.  
“No, you are,” you smiled, leaning back in and dropping two kisses on his lips. 
A little later, the two of you lay tangled together under the sheets. You both were a little too wrung out to do anything else, so you decided to stay like this. His hand slid up and down your side, his touch as usual, soft and comforting, but your mind was moving at the speed of light. 
He hadn’t said a word.
You kind of expect him to bring it up, maybe even tease you about the heat of the moment, or tell you how he felt about it. Instead, he seemed so relaxed and at peace, especially with how his head was resting in the crook of your neck as if nothing unusual happened. 
You felt the urge to say something, but how? You couldn’t just blurt it out, “That might get me pregnant and I want that, but do you want that?”. So, you decided to test the waters. 
“That was… intense,” you mumbled, your voice laced with coolness as your fingers traced shapes on his bare back.
“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, pressing a wet, lazy kiss to your shoulder. “You drive me fucking crazy, Y/N,”.
“I love him. God, I love him,” you thought to yourself, but your mind was still stuck on it. “I mean…we don’t usually…,” you trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint.
“We don’t usually what?” he asked while propping himself on his elbow to look at you, his tone giving away that he really was clueless. 
Your cheeks felt like they turned red again as you hesitated to answer his question. You took a deep breath, “You know, we usually never…skip the condom,” you said, your voice soft as you searched his face for a reaction.
Joe blinked, and for a second you saw a spark behind his eyes, but then it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He shrugged slightly, “I guess we got caught up in the moment, huh?” he said casually, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
You bit your lip, trying to hide your disappointment. He wasn’t getting it. Either that, or he wasn’t ready to go there, and you definitely did not want to push. Maybe now wasn’t the right time to bring it up?
“Yeah,” you murmured, forcing a smile as you ran your fingers through his messy hair. “Caught up in a moment,”. 
He dropped another kiss on your lips and mumbled an ‘i love you’ before settling back beside you, his arm draping over your waist as his eyes fluttered shut. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind swirling with a million thoughts. “Maybe I should let it go for tonight. He must be tired,” you thought, letting out a breath as you relaxed against him. 
But as you lay there, another idea formed. If your adorably clueless husband isn’t going to bring it up, maybe you’d start dropping hints–little comments here and there, planting the seed in his mind like he did inside of you. He was the smartest person you knew, but when it came to subtlety, he sometimes needed to help. 
You smiled to yourself, already thinking of ideas on how to ease the idea into his mind. But for now, you let it go and allowed his steady breathing to soothe you to sleep. 
A few days later – Bengals Bye Week Day 1
The living room was calm, the soft light of the TV cast a gentle glow over the room as the quiet pitter-patter of the rain added to the comforting ambiance. Joe was sitting next to you on the couch, one of his arms lazily resting around your shoulder as your legs were stretched out in front of him. You were as usual, curled up next to him, the large hoodie you stole from his closet hiding most of your body as a fluffy Bengals blanket covered you both to protect you from the cool winter air. Your eyes fell to the coffee table in front of you, half-empty pizza boxes and freshly popped popcorn scattered across the surface, a reminder of the cozy night you two were having today during night one of the Bengal’s Bye-Week. 
The movie on the TV was a cheesy rom-com, clearly your choice since your husband would’ve picked and preferred some action movie that you would’ve been too lazy to focus on. Rom-coms were perfect for cozy nights because you didn’t really need to put all of your focus on what was happening. However, this time, you were glued to the screen. There was a little family moment playing right now–a dad chasing his toddler around the living room and swooping them into their arms as their laughter filled the room. It was a classic scene that had been done a million times before in the movies, but this time, something about it made your heart swell with a familiar ache. 
You shifted slightly, reaching to the side table to grab your water glass to take a small sip, the dad’s laughter in the movie echoing through the room, and without thinking twice, you blurted, “You’d make a hot dad, you know that?”. 
Your cheeks instantly heated up, “Oh, shit,” you quickly thought after you said that. “Where the hell did that come from? I thought I was easing him into this…talk about subtle”. 
Joe, who had been scrolling through his camera roll for a few minutes to find a photo of a pair of shoes he wanted to show you, froze mid-swipe, his eyes darting to you and then to the TV screen. “W- what?” he sputtered, confused and dazed like a deer in headlights by what you had just said.
“Play it cool, Y/N. You said it, no going back now,”. You took a sip of the cool beverage, then laughed, “You good there, Burrow?” you teased, watching as his cheeks turned a shade of red you knew he didn’t like to admit. He always has that adorable blush on his face when you say something about his physique. He knew he was gifted in the looks department, but he was never one to say it out loud himself. Another reason for this blush was what you said after that.
The word dad. 
“What did you just say?” he muttered, a playful twinkle in his eyes as the redness spread to his ears, not being able to believe what you just said. 
You grinned, “I said, you’d make a hot dad. I mean, look at you. You’re already so good with kids and I bet you’d be the one to carry one around in a baby carrier, all rugged and sexy,”. 
Joe’s brows furrowed as a smile threatened to tug at the corner of his lips. He leaned back against the couch, returning to the position he was in before, “You’re insane,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he laughed at your “joke”. 
“Please,” you raised an eyebrow and said, “You’ve got major ‘dad energy’,”. 
“Dad energy?” he snorted, the crinkles around his baby blues at full display, “I can’t believe you just said that,”. His hand traveled to your thigh underneath the cozy blanket, giving it a gentle squeeze that matched the tone of his voice despite the fact he was brushing off what you were saying as if it was a silly joke–which it wasn’t.
“Um, why not?” you asked innocently. “It’s a compliment, babe. You’d be the guy, the one who’s always there for his family. The fun, loving dad who’d give anything to make sure his kid knows they’re loved. That’s so hot,”.
He stayed quiet for a few seconds while his gaze lingered on you, the mood shifted as if he was processing something. “You really think that?” he asked, his voice quieter, the playful teasing gone. 
You nodded, “I do. You have this…calm about you, you know? Like your life is so chaotic but no matter what, you make room for those little moments, the ones that matter most. You hardly get overwhelmed and manage to give everything your 110%,”.
There was a longer pause this time, the only sound in the room being the faint background noise of the movie. Finally, he let out a soft exhale, his eyes moving down to your lips for a moment before moving back to yours. “You’re making me blush,” he said, almost a little shyly. 
“Good,” you teased, leaning in just enough so your noses brushed, “I’m not done yet,”.
Joe raised an eyebrow at your answer, “What, you going to tell me I look like I’d be good at changing diapers next?”.
You laughed, the nature of the conversation was serious but the little jokes and playfulness added a lighter touch to it. You leaned in a little closer so that your lips were just an inch from his, “You kidding?” you whispered, “I think you’d be amazing at everything, Joey. Not just dad stuff. Everything,”.
Joe’s breath hitched, and before he could say something, you kissed him softly, just enough to make your point clear. When you pulled back, his hands moved to the back of your neck to pull you back in, this time with more urgency. “Alright,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’ve got me now but don’t go giving me too many ideas, or I might start thinking you’re serious about this,”. 
You grinned, feeling the heat between you both rise, particularly in your belly. “Who says I’m not serious?” you thought as you pushed your lips against his again. 
Two days later - Bengals Thanksgiving Dinner 
The air buzzed with energy as the dinner unfolded in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the room. Families mingled with players, and the mood was warm and festive. You had so much to be thankful for, but the thing you were most thankful for was the man beside you who hadn’t left your side since you got here. 
Joe was his usual charming self, offering warm smiles and handshakes to everyone who approached. He was the star of the show as usual, but even in a crowded room, he had a way of making you feel like the only person in his world. 
Joe loved you right. 
Even when his life demanded so much from him, he never let you feel like you were anything less than his top priority. Whether he was drowning in the chaos of the football season or navigating the plethora of public appearances, he had a way of grounding you, making sure you knew you were the center of his galaxy.
He always paid attention, even when you thought he wasn’t. If his eyes were glued to game film, he’d still reach over and rest a hand on your leg, his thumb would be rubbing little circles as if he was saying ‘I’m here with you’. If he was caught up in a conversation, he’d make sure to check in with you through a quick glance or a wink, a silent acknowledgment that he was thinking of you. 
Joe didn’t just love you; he made loving you feel like the easiest thing in the world.
If you were tired, he’d insist on carrying you to bed, no matter how much you resisted. If you were upset, he wouldn’t rest until he made you laugh again. And even on days he had nothing left to give, he’d still find a way to make you feel seen–a quick kiss on your forehead, a few ‘i love you’s’, or the way he’d hold you just a little tighter at night.
“You’re my everything,” he’d tell you, his voice steady and sure like it was the most obvious truth in the world. And you believed him. Because Joe had a way of showing his love in the little things, the quiet gestures that spoke louder than words ever could.
And tonight was another example. He was the center of attention and had everyone approaching him for conversations, oftentimes overlooking you. But he made sure to rope you into the conversation each time, to hold you by your hip and keep you against his chest, and to constantly keep his attention on you whenever he had a free moment. 
Currently, you stood close to Joe as usual, your fingers loosely entwined with his as you both sipped on your drinks and soaked in the atmosphere. Not far from where you were, Evan McPherson sat on a plush couch, bouncing his baby girl on his knee. Merritt was all smiley and giggly, her tiny fists pumping in excitement as she watched the world around her. 
“Having fun?” Joe murmured, leaning closer so only you could hear.
You turned to him with a soft smile, “I am,” you smiled, your gaze lingering on his baby blues. “What about you?”.
His lips curved into a familiar, boyish grin that made your heart flutter every time. “When I’m with you? Always,” he said simply, though his sincerity shone through every word.
Before you could respond, your attention moved to Merritt when Evan leaned down, letting her waddle on her tiny, unstable feet toward Joe. “Looks like another girl has eyes for you, Joey,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with a grin.
Joe laughed softly, setting his drink on the table as he crouched down to meet her at eye level. “Hey there, little lady,” he said gently, his voice soft in a way that melted your heart instantly. He reached out a hand, and instantly, her tiny fingers latched onto his index finger, gripping it tightly like it was the most important thing in the world. 
Your eyes lit up with a kind of sparkle that said a thousand words, and your heart swelled with warmth at the sigh of Joe, utterly fascinated by the innocent gesture. “Wow, she’s got quite the grip,” Joe said, his eyes twinkling as he gave her hand a little shake, earning a blubbering laugh from the little baby. “She been spending time in the receiver room?” he joked. 
Evan laughed, “Ja’marr better watch out,”. 
You crouched down to where Joe was, leaning closer so that your words were just for him, “Look,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “She knows you’ve got dad vibes,”. 
Hello, hint number two.
Joe turned to you, both eyebrows raised in surprise as a blush crept up on his face, “Dad vibes?” he asked. 
“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your eyes darting between him and the baby still clutching his finger. “She can sense it. It’s a thing, you know,” you nodded, trying to sound credible so that another hint would be dropped. 
Joe chuckled, shaking his head but not pulling his hand from Merritts. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his eyes filled with a kind of soft love that you’d never seen before. 
Was this the look he’d have in his eyes when his own baby would be holding his finger like that?
“Oh my god. Please. PLEASE,” you thought to yourself, feeling an overwhelming amount of fluffy thoughts fill your mind. Would his baby cling to his finger like that while they walked? Would his baby laugh like that at his adorable faces and jokes? Would his baby look at their daddy with that same look of love?
You were so far gone thinking about Joe and your future baby that you didn’t even realize that you were mumbling lyrics to the song you’d heard earlier on the drive over to the event. “You make me wanna make you fall in love…,”. 
It was exactly how you felt watching Joe. He made you want everything–a family, a future, a life filled with moments like these. 
Joe glanced over at you, catching the dreamy look in your eyes. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice quiet and curious.
“Hmm?” you blinked, realizing you’d been caught humming.
“You were singing something,” he said, his lips shifting into that little half-smile that always made your knees weak.
You hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice was soft and a little shy, “It’s just a song. Made me think of you,”.
His smile widened as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’ve got that look again,” he murmured.
“What look?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as he smirked.
“The one where you’re plotting something,” he teased. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”.
You shook your head, holding back a grin. “Nothing,” you said, your voice light but your heart full. “Anyway, I know what I’m talking about,” you teased, giving him a cheeky grin. “She can feel the vibes,”.
His attention shifted back to Merritt, who had started babbling as if she was trying to have a full-blown conversation with him. And Joe being the sweetheart he is, started playing along by nodding and murmuring things that made her giggle even harder. Watching him like this, so natural and soft, made you want to scream. The image of him holding your baby like this flickered in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had the same image and feeling tugged at his heart. 
After conversing with Joe, Merritt was eventually scooped up by Evan, and she whined in protest as her grip on Joe’s finger was forced loose. “Sorry, bud. Looks like you’ve got competition,” Joe joked, earning another giggle from Merritt. 
“She’ll stop when I bribe her with a slice of the pumpkin pie that Y/N brought,” Evan smiled, glancing back as he heard Gracie call out for him. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Husband duties call,” he waved before walking back to his wife. 
Joe straightened up, brushing off his knees as he turned back to you, “Dad vibes, huh?” he said again, this time with a little smirk. 
You shrugged, trying to keep it cool despite the butterflies in your belly. “Just saying. She didn’t grab my finger like that,”. 
Joe laughed, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulled you closer. “Guess I’ve got the magic touch,” he teased, a softness in his voice but there was also a flicker of something unspoken lingering between you. 
Maybe, just maybe…the seeds had started to plant in his mind.
The next night - Home
You both lay intertwined in the afterglow of your highs, his body pressed close against yours as you watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. You both were still trying to catch your breath, a comfortable silence developing between you. You turned your head up to look at him, your lips morphing into a teasing smile as you traced a finger along his chest. “Mm, I like the way you fit,” you lazily murmured the sexual innuendo, your voice soft and teasing as you slid your fingers down his chest. 
Joe raised an eyebrow, intrigued by what you were talking about. “Fit, huh?” he chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk. “I could say the same about you, babe. You were made for me,”. 
You shrugged, a sly grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to kiss him. “I mean, it’s not like I have to tell your hot ass a thing,” you said between kisses, “Yeah, you just get it,” you nodded. 
Joe’s eyes darkened with a familiar hunger, the kind that always seemed to fire up when you whispered little things like that. “Get what?” he asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy from the countless times he groaned and moaned your name just a few minutes ago. 
You trailed your hand over his body, your touch slow, purposeful, as you let the words fall from your lips. “The whole package, babe,” you smirked, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so hot and you know it and you have the full package–the brains, the looks, the athletic ability, the sweetness. Damn, I like the way you fit, god bless your dad’s genetics,”. 
He laughed again, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a twinkle that told you he was just as aware of the subtle comment as you were. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you forward for another kiss. “I guess your dad did something right, too,” he teased, laughing at your silly comments, his lips brushing over yours as he moved to kiss your jawline. 
“I’m serious, Joey,” you said as he pressed light kisses around your face. “You’re so sexy and I just…ugh. It hurts,” you whined. 
He pulled his face up from your neck, a confused grin on his face, “...You..alright?” he carefully asked. 
“More than alright,” you breathed out with an almost drunken lovesick look on your face. “I’m just so in love with you,”. 
Joe smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your puffy lips, “And I’m just sooooo in love with you too, wifey. More than I can ever put into words or physically show. You’re the best thing in my life and fuck, I’m obsessed with every part of you,”. 
"You know,” you murmured, your lips curling into a soft smile as you gazed up at him. “I think I really like this version of you,”.
His brow arched, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Oh, yeah? And what version is that?”.
“This one,” you said, your fingers gliding down to brush his jawline. “The one who looks at me like I hung the stars. The one who can’t stop touching me, even when he’s half-asleep,”.
Joe chuckled, his warm laughter grumbling against your chest as he pulled you closer. “Can you blame me? Look at what I get to wake up to every day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You make it way too easy to fall for you all over again,”.
You felt your heart flutter at his words, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest. His lips, once again, moved down to your cheek, then your jaw, planting soft, lingering kisses that made your skin tingle.
“You’re such a sweet talker,” you teased, your voice light and playful as you tilted your head to give him better access.
“Only for you, angel,” he replied, his lips now hovering just above yours, his breath warm and intoxicating. He kissed you then, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you ended and he began. When he finally pulled back, his hand moved to rest on your lower belly, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the soft skin there. The touch made your breath hitch slightly, a quiet spark of excitement lighting up inside you because of where his hand was.
“You’re gonna spoil me,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection as you reached up to brush a stray curl from his face.
Joe’s smile softened, his blue eyes locked onto yours. “You deserve to be spoiled,” he said simply, his tone full of confidence.
Your heart swelled, and before you could think twice, you let the words slip out, casual and subtle. “Well, you better not forget that when you’re the future father of my children,”.
Joe froze for a moment, his hand stilling on your stomach as his eyes widened slightly. “What’d you say?” he asked, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
You smiled, pretending like nothing happened as you leaned up to kiss his jawline. “I said you’re good at spoiling me,” you replied, your tone light and innocent, as if you hadn’t just dropped a hint that made your heart race.
Joe narrowed his eyes playfully, clearly catching the change in your tone but deciding not to push it. Instead, he smirked, his lips twisting into that familiar mischievous grin that always made your stomach flip. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips trailing down your neck. “Because I plan to keep doing it. Forever,”.
And as his kisses deepened and his hands roamed, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Another subtle hint was planted and there were many more to come.
You wondered if he was starting to catch on…It’s not like you had been giving the dad-and-baby talk a break…
A few nights later - Dinner at Home 
The faint sounds of the music filled the kitchen as you and Joe sat at the table you’d set up for dinner. Plates of half-finished food sat between you, but the focus wasn’t on eating anymore. It was on the way Joe kept leaning closer to you, stealing kisses between bites, and the way his adorable laugh filled the air every time you tried to swat him away. 
You’d set your playlist to shuffle earlier, but when Sabrina Carpenter’s “Juno” started to play, you couldn’t help but grin. “Perfect timing for another hint,” you thought to yourself. The beat was light and playful, the melody so addictive it became hard for you to sit in your seat. You quickly got up from your chair and grabbed your untouched spoon to use as a microphone, twirling around the kitchen as you mouthed the words to yourself while you watched Joe. He was now sipping on his drink and watching you with curiosity, but also amused at the pop-star-like show you were putting on. 
“I know you want my touch for life, If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno. You know I just might let you lock me down tonight. One of me is cute, but two, though? Give it to me, baby. You make me wanna make you fall in love,” you sang, pointing straight to Joe as your beautiful voice echoed through the house. 
Joe’s eyebrows shot up, his form pausing mid-air as a slow, knowing smirk face spread across his face. He leaned back in his chair, comfortably crossing his arms, and his baby blues sparked with wonder. “Oh, really?” he said, his tone laced with intrigue. “You might let me make you Juno, huh?”. 
You blinked innocently, but the blush on your cheeks gave you away, “It’s just a song,” you replied casually. 
“Mmhm,” he nodded slowly, clearly not convinced. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table as his grin widened. “Seems like a pretty specific song to sing along to while staring right at me, don’t you think?”.
You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool even as your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. “It’s a catchy song, Joey. Don’t flatter yourself,” you said while slipping back into your seat.
“Oh, I’m flattered,” he teased, his smirk turning devilish as he leaned closer, his voice dropping lower. “So, what’s the deal, huh? You trying to tell me something?”.
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you shoved a piece of bread into your mouth to avoid answering. But Joe wasn’t letting it go. He reached out, gently tugging your hand away from your mouth, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“Come on, angel,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “You don’t just drop a line like that without explaining yourself,”.
Your cheeks burned as you finally met his gaze, the warmth in his expression melting your resolve. “Maybe I just like the idea,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Joe raised an eyebrow at your confession. “The idea, huh?” he repeated, his hand traveling down to your thigh. “And what idea is that, babe?”. 
You smirked, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his ear, your voice a soft, sultry whisper. “Guess you’ll have to keep loving me right to find out,” you teased, pulling back with a wink that left him grinning. 
The next morning 
Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows as you sat on the counter, scrolling through the notifications on your phone while Joe leaned against the kitchen island, sipping his post-workout smoothie. He had just come out from the gym, his hair still damp from his quick rinse-off, and wearing one of those fitted shirts that hugged his chest and shoulders just right. The sight of him standing there, effortlessly attractive and completely unaware of how sexy he looked, made you feel lightheaded. 
“Literally fuck me. He looks so sexy and daddy right now,” you thought to yourself, feeling your panties dampen at the thoughts filling your head. “I swear to god, he better get these hints fast. I’m so ready to be the mother of his beautiful children,”.
Your staring wasn’t exactly…unnoticeable either. You were practically drooling at him when he looked up from his smoothie. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, his brow rising as he questioned your motive. 
You smirked, holding your phone up and sneakily snapping a photo of him before he could notice, “No reason,” you replied, trying to hide your true feelings by sounding soft. 
Joe rolled his eyes and shook his head, wearing an almost bashful expression; however, that didn't stop you from sending the photo of the man who was hotter than the sun to your group chat.
you: guys…tell me this man isn’t giving “sexy future dad vibes” right now.  
maya: girl, STOP. he looks like he’d change diapers and still have the energy to fix the sink or something.  
lacy: i swear he’s the type to pull out the “dad voice” for bedtime stories and have the kids begging for more.  
emma: not even kidding, he’d probably rock a baby carrier like a runway model. wait..he basically is after that vogue thing. damn, y/n…you really got the whole package with joe
you: stoppppp, i’m blushing.  
lacy: oh, YOU’RE blushing? meanwhile, we’re all over here swooning by just thinking about little joe and y/n babies
maya: dead serious, if you don’t have his baby, i’m applying for the job (im kidding. james would kill me)  
emma: same. like, does he have a brother?  
you: calm downnn. he’s mine.  
lacy: we know. we’re just living vicariously through you.  
emma: no joke, though. aand i bet he’s already thought about it…you should ask him
maya: yeah, casually drop it during pillow talk. like, “hey babe, how do you feel about onesies?”  
lacy: LMAO. or say, “you’d look so hot holding our baby. thoughts?”  
you: …well, I may or may not have *just* said something like that a few nights ago
maya: OMG, WHAT DID HE SAY?  
you: i acted like i didn’t say anything and he didn’t ask…just joey being beautifully clueless as usual ;)
emma: LOL. iconic.  
lacy: he’s probably in the bathroom googling “how to be the hottest dad alive” right now
maya: he’s already got that title on lock, y/n you just gotta make it official 
you: you guys are insane. but also not wrong
lacy: we live to hype you up. now go make him earn that sexy future dad title  
emma: and then report back. details, queen. detailssss
maya: high five for locking that down, y/n :) you seriously won at life and just know im waiting for the pregnancy reveal…get to it.
lacy: mhm. i want to be called auntie lacy NOWW
You couldn’t control your laughter, the sound vibrating through your chest and bubbling out of you in uncontrollable waves as you read your friends’ ridiculous–yet accurate–texts. Eventually, Joe noticed your behavior as it was pretty hard to ignore. “What’s so funny?” he asked as he set his smoothie down, then slowly approached you. 
“Nothing!” you chirped, holding your phone to your chest to hide the incriminating messages.
“Oh, it’s something,” he replied, his hands landing on either side of you on the counter to cage you in. He leaned in close, his hot breath hitting your lips as he mumbled, “Come on, angel. Spill,”. 
You were still giggling at the situation, practically loopy from all the laughing and teasing, which prompted you to give in. “Fine, I may have told my friends that you’d look hot holding a baby…and that you give off sexy future dad vibes. There also may or may not be a photo of you involved,”. 
Joe froze for a second, then leaned back and blinked at you in disbelief. “You sent that…to your friends?”. 
“Hey! They agreed with me,” you defended, holding up your phone to show him the texts. 
He scrolled through the text thread, his ears getting redder and redder with each tease from your friends. Once he reached the end, his jaw was on the floor and it almost looked as if he was fighting a smile. “Seriously?”. 
“What?” you grinned unapologetically. “It’s true!”. 
He let out a bashful whine, sliding a hand down his face though the playful twinkle in his eyes showed you he was enjoying this. “You objectified me to your friends,”. 
You laughed, “Sorry if you feel objectified,” while sliding your hands to his chest. “But I mean…come on. Look at you,” you added with a kiss to his jaw. “It’s the truth, Joey. Can’t help myself. Hormones are high,”.
He let out a throaty laugh, shaking his head, “Hormones, huh?” his hands slipping to your waist as your legs opened to accommodate his large body. “You know…I could do something about that,”. 
Your breath hitched as you felt his crotch against yours, another rush of heat radiating through your body, “Could you now?” you challenged as your fingers played with his shirt. 
“Mhm,” he hummed, his lips brushing your ear before he dropped a soft kiss to the corner. “But first,” he said, suddenly pulling away and raising his hand with a goofy smile. “Your friends high-fived you for this…Where the hell is mine? I think I deserve to be recognized for locking down the sexy, breathtakingly gorgeous, angelic woman in front of me,”. 
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you looked at him with that look again–the dreamy one that spoke a thousand words. “I love you,” you breathed out without realizing it because you were so caught up in his ocean-blue eyes to the point where it felt like everything around you had faded away. 
He chuckled, “I love you a lot more,” while earning a high five from you. 
“There. Happy now?” you said while batting your lashes at him. 
“Mmm. Not yet,” he replied, his grin turning devilish as he quickly hooked his strong arm around your waist and lifted you off the counter, then spinning you around until your back pressed against the cool surface of the island. “But I’ve got some ideas on how to fix that,” he mumbled, his voice laced with heat. 
“Joe,” you breathlessly whispered, feeling the cool countertop against your back but all you could focus on was his tight grip on your waist, the warmth of his body, and the heated look in his eyes.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Me?” you teased breathlessly, your fingers curling into his shirt to pull him back in. “You’re the one that has his hormonal wife sprawled out on the kitchen counter right now. Who knows what you’re about to do,”.
Joe chuckled, his lips grazing your jawline as he kissed his way down to your neck. “You started it, babe,” he muttered against you, his teeth nipping the soft skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. “And now I’m gonna finish it,”. His hands slid down to your thighs, each squeeze and scratch drawing a gasp from your lips, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he settled between them. His lips found yours again, this time more ravenous, more demanding, as his hands roamed over your body.
“Joe,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your throat and over the exposed skin of your collarbone.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his hands sliding beneath your shirt to grip your hips again, his thumbs pressing into your skin.
“You,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your hips arching toward him as heat pooled in your belly. “I want you,”.
That was all the encouragement he needed. In a blur of movement, your clothes were tossed, his shirt quickly joining the pile on the floor. The cool air hit your skin, but Joe’s heated gaze and the way his hands stroked your body made you forget everything else. He trailed kisses down your stomach, his lips lingering for a moment as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider. His mouth met yours again as he positioned himself, the thick tip of his cock brushing against your slick folds, drawing a whimper from your lips. “Joey, please,”. 
“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice laced with desire as he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.
A gasp escaped you, your hands clutching his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts deep and calculated. The cool surface of the island under you countered deliciously with the heat of his body as he set a tempo that had you melting beneath him.“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he picked up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the kitchen. “You feel so good,”.
“Joe,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he hit just the right spot, over and over, pulling a string of frantic moans from your lips. “Oh. My. God,”.
His hands moved to your hips again, holding you firmly in place as he pounded into you, his pace showing no sign of mercy. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through your tired body, building higher and higher until you felt like you might shatter. “So tight,” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear as he pushed himself deeper. “So fucking perfect for me,”.
Normally you’d be fully against doing this in the kitchen, especially this bright and early in the morning. But you weren’t lying when you said that the hormones were high. He looked like an absolute god and you just wanted him to take you to heaven right then and there. He made you so insatiable, losing all forms of decency and innocence. 
And you fucking loved it. 
He moaned again, his hips snapping harder and harder into your soaking core, “I’m so…so close,” he breathed out, his voice strained from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. His hand slipped between your sweaty bodies, his fingers finding your clit as he circled the bundle of nerves with practiced ease. 
“Fuck, Joe. Oh…fuck!” you screamed, the pleasure hitting you like a tidal wave as your body arched into his. Your walls clenched his thick cock, causing a guttural moan from his lips as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back for support. 
The sight of you reaching your high under him, the way your body shook, and the sound of his name on your lips, was all it took to send him over the edge after you. 
“On me, Joey,” you whispered, your voice laced with need. “I want to see it, on me. Mark your territory,”. 
The raw need in your voice sent a jolt of electricity through him, his jaw clenching as he groaned deeply. “Fuck..you drive me crazy,” he muttered, pulling out at the last second, his hand wrapping around himself, his motions desperate and fast. 
And with a final moan, he gave in, his release spilling out in thick, hot streams across your soft belly, painting your skin and claiming you as you asked. “Oh…,” you moaned at the sight of his pearly cum spilled out on your belly. The slickness against your skin made you hiss, and the sight of it pushed you into a whole other world.
His body trembled with the force of his release, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he caught his breath. "Holy shit, babe. I can't get enough of you," he panted as you slowly rubbed his back to help him down from his high.
"Me too, Joey," you lazily chuckled, panting as you stared up at the ceiling, basking in the afterglow of what felt like being brought to the gates of heaven.
For a few minutes, the room was filled with the sounds of labored breaths, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and satisfaction. Joe used his other hand to reach for a towel nearby as his breathing steadied out, and then he carefully cleaned you up. 
His touch was so soft and gentle, each wipe of the towel over your skin was filled with care and attention, and it made your heart explode. Watching him like this, so attentive and loving even after the dirtiest moments, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of satisfaction.
You really deserved to be high-fived for locking him down. 
“Future dad vibes,” you teased under your breath. 
“Hm?” he hummed, brows furrowed as he glanced up at you. 
“Ohhh, nothing,” you sang, grinning mischievously. 
His eyes narrowed in suspicious, placing the towel to the side and leaning over you again. His eyes pinned you with a soft, curious look. “You’ve got that look in your eyes again,” he said. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”.
“Just the usual thoughts,” you smiled, “Like how lucky I am to have you,”. 
His face softened, his hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, “I’m the lucky one, mama,” he said, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was intoxicating. 
Mama?
“Oh my god? Is he catching on?” you thought to yourself as you smiled into the kiss. You quickly pulled away, “Did you just…call me mama?” you asked, trying to keep your cool as you stared into his captivating eyes. 
Joe leaned back, a little sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “Uhhh…maybe?” he said, his voice a little casual but also a little…nervous? “I don’t know…it just felt right,”.
It’s a sign. A sign from the universe. 
He had to be catching on…right?
You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned up to him. “Well, it’s cute,”. 
“Cute, huh?” he murmured, pulling you closer. “You like it, mama. I can tell,”. 
You felt your heart flutter at the nickname again. The thought of how close you were to that becoming a reality filled your body with the most extraordinary feeling. “...Maybe,” you responded with that dreamy look in your eyes again. 
A week later - Friday Night
The two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by takeout containers and half-empty bottles of sparkling water. Today was a rest day for Joe as he was playing Monday Night Football this week, so you decided to take it easy and have a little date night at home. Back in college, a lot of your date nights looked like this because you both preferred comfort over glitz and glamor. You just needed each other, some good takeout, and an entertaining movie, and you were set. 
You two did simplicity better than any other couple. For you, the extravagant dates and expensive gifts didn’t matter nearly as much as the way Joe made you laugh with his dry humor, how he’d shower you with kisses after a long day, and just those little moments your hopelessly romantic heart craved. 
The way he looked at you right now, all cozy on the floor, served as a reminder of how lucky you were to have built a life where you could just be.  
Joe had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you both were settled on the plush rug, laughing over another silly rom-com you’d picked out. The soft hum of the TV was barely audible over the few crunches of takeout and the shared laughter between you two. He had one hand lazily reaching for another spring roll, while the other gently ran up and down your arm, his thumb brushing your skin in slow strokes. “I don’t know why we ever do anything else,” Joe murmured with a lazy smile, taking another bite of his food before glancing at you. His eyes were warm like he’d never want to be anywhere else in the world but here, with you. “This is perfect”.
You grinned, stretching out next to him and letting your fingers trace the outline of his chest through his soft, Bengals t-shirt. “I don’t know either,” you teased, your voice light and playful. “I could definitely get used to this for, like, forever,”.
Joe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he caught your gaze. “Forever, huh?” He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as his lips brushed softly over your temple. “You sayin’ you’d be okay with being stuck with me for the rest of your life?”.
You giggled, the sound soft and genuine, as you pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I mean, you did already put the ring on my finger and say your vows at the altar….but yeah,” you smiled. “Just you, me, some food, and our couch... maybe some babies one day,”.
Here we go. Final hint. This has to work. 
You had been dropping hints almost every day for the past week and a half, there was no way he was that oblivious, right? As each day passed, you got more and more restless. You just wanted him to get what you were implying and make it happen. It was that simple.
You wanted him to make you Juno. 
It may have just been a cute little song you had been obsessed with lately, but Sabrina really spoke to your heart with every lyric. The way the song casually danced around love, intimacy, infatuation, and that perfect type of connection–it made you think about your own future, what it could be, and how, deep down, you felt ready. You were already so in love with Joe, and that love was only growing stronger. The thought of starting a family, of being his partner in something even more beautiful, was controlling all your thoughts.
Joe’s hand paused on your arm for a second, and you could feel the shift in his energy. His gaze, once playful, turned thoughtful as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “You’ve been talking about that a lot lately,” he murmured, a hint of something deeper in his voice. “Having babies?”.
“Oh my god,” you thought, your heart racing in your chest. This was it. He was finally catching on.
You bit your lip, feeling nervous but trying to keep your cool. “Maybe,” you said softly, meeting his eyes. Your voice suddenly became more stable as you continued, “I think about it a lot. About us...and a future,” you paused, watching his reaction. “You, me, and…a little one,”.
His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb grazing your cheek in that comforting way he always did when he was about to say something important. “I think about it too,” he said, his voice low and steady, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. “I think I’ve always wanted that. Wanted to be a father. With you,”. 
“Oh my GOD,” the voice in your head was screaming with excitement. 
He wanted it too. 
You blinked in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at the honesty in his voice. He continued, his eyes locking with yours, the gravity there too clear to ignore. “I watch the way you are with kids. The way your vibrant laugh fills up the room when you’re spinning my niece around at a family gathering. The way your whole face lights up when a baby looks at you and waves,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I see how natural you are, how much love you give to them, and it just...makes me want that. I want to give that to you, to build that with you,”.
A warm flush crept across your cheeks, but your heart swelled with tenderness. He wasn’t just saying these words–he was feeling them, and it made everything feel even more real.
He sighed softly, his gaze softening as he spoke again, his voice heavy with something deeper now. “I’ve always wanted this, but I didn’t want to pressure you. I didn’t want you to feel like I was rushing you into something before you were ready. But I see the way you look at them, and I can’t ignore it. It’s like…everything inside me knows that you’re the one. The woman of my dreams. My wife, obviously, since I married you,” he said with a laugh, earning one from you too. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never wanted anything more than to be a father with you by my side,”. 
Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, and you were overwhelmed by the love and sincerity in his voice. He wanted this with you, too. He didn’t just want to create a family with anyone; he wanted to create it with you. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “Joe,” you whispered, “I want it, too. More than anything,”.
“Yeah, I know,” he laughed. “Your hints were definitely hinting,” he said with a kiss to your cheek. 
You chuckled softly, wiping away the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks. Joe’s easy laugh made you feel safe, loved, and seen in a way that only he could. The weight of the moment was still heavy, but now it felt full of hope, not pressure.
“You caught on, huh?” you teased, your voice still a little shaky with emotion.
“How could I not? I think what did it was that night when you sang Juno and pointed right at me, you had that dreamy look in your eyes,”. 
You beamed with excitement, “Imagine a mini version of you running around–blonde curls, big blue eyes, tiny cleats. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t be adorable,”.
Joe paused, “A mini version of me?”. 
You nodded enthusiastically. “One of you is cute, but two, though? Give it to me babyyyy. Game over. The world wouldn’t be ready for a mini Joey B. I honestly think I’d give birth to your twin,”.
Joe chuckled, leaning his head back against the couch with a smirk. “You’ve really thought this through, huh? Even the fact that we’ll have a boy first?”.
“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning closer, your hand resting on his thigh again. “I mean, you’d be the fun, cool dad, teaching him how to throw a perfect spiral. All his friends would be so jealous because his daddy and coach is THE Joe Burrow. And me? I’d be the mom who packs the best snacks for football practice and wins everyone over with my charm. Total dream team,”.
Joe let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”.
“And you love it,” you shot back, tipping your head with a grin.
He reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I do,” he said simply, his voice dropping into that low, serious tone that always sent shivers down your spine. “And you know what?”
“What?” you asked, your heart suddenly thumping as he leaned closer.
“I think you might be onto something,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. “Two of me? Could be kind of fun,”.
Your breath hitched, your hands moving to his shoulders as his lips captured yours in a kiss that made your whole body feel lightweight. He deepened the kiss, pulling you onto his lap effortlessly, his hands settling on your waist. As you broke apart for air, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes glistening with a mix of naughtiness and love. “But you know,” he added, his voice teasing now, “Two of you wouldn’t be so bad either. Imagine how bossy and adorable that kid would be,”.
You gasped in mock offense, smacking his chest. “Excuse me! I’m not bossy–I’m assertive. I always get everything done just the way I want, and that, my gorgeous lover, is a talent everyone wants to have,”.
Joe laughed, pulling you closer. “Sure, babe. Whatever you say,” he dragged out. "But if we’re really doing this…like really doing this right now. I guess we better get started,”.
Your cheeks blushed as his hands tightened on your waist, his lips trailing down your neck. “Oh, you’re serious now?” you teased, though your voice lingered with excitement.
He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression soft but full of determination. “Completely fucking serious,” he said. “You ready for two of us?”.
Your answer came without hesitation, your lips finding his again as you whispered, “More than ready,”.
The house was still, the air filled with the quiet buzz of the night, interrupted only by the sound of Joe’s breathing and the soft creak of the floorboards beneath him. He carried you through the house as if you were weightless, his arms wrapped around you like a cocoon, your body snuggled against his warmth. He moved slowly, taking his time to bring you to the bedroom as if he was savoring every second, every beat of your hearts in sync.
When he placed you onto the bed, it felt like the world had slowed, almost stopped. He hovered above you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his gaze heavy with desire but also a tenderness that took your breath away. His lips pressed against your skin, soft at first, leaving a trail of warmth across your collarbone as he kissed his way down your neck. Each touch, each press of his lips, felt like a slow fire building inside you, the heat of his mouth sending shivers spiraling through your body.
His hands traced over your skin, following the curve of your waist before settling on your hips, pulling you closer. Everything felt like a blur and before you knew it, you both were completely bare, physically and emotionally.
His voice, was deep and soft, as he spoke against your skin. "You know, baby, if we're really going for two of me…," His words were teasing, but there was a sweetness in them, an undeniable affection. "We're going to need to take this slow. I want to feel every inch of you,".
You shivered at his words, the sensation of his breath against your neck leaving you with a rush of desire. Your fingers slid up his back, feeling the tight muscles under his skin, every inch of him hard and firm as he braced himself above you. "You think I can’t keep up?" you teased softly, your voice a little breathless from the intensity of his touch.
Joe’s lips curved into a smirk as he pulled back to look into your eyes. His blue eyes darkened as he gazed at you with such intensity it made your heart race. “Oh, I know you can,” he whispered, voice thick with desire. “But I’m not in a rush. We’re going to take our time. I want to make sure you feel everything,”. 
He lowered his body again, pressing his chest against yours, his lips finding yours in a slow, soft kiss that deepened as he slowly sank into you. Every movement, every brush of his lips was purposeful, as if he was trying to tell you everything he felt with each touch, each kiss. His body moved over yours like water, slowly and fluidly as his hands slid to your hips, fingertips digging in, pulling you closer as his lips trailed down to your neck, biting softly. “You’re perfect,” he whispered against your ear. “So perfect, baby. I’m going to give you everything,”.
Joe’s hand slid between your bodies, pulling you closer as his lips found a sensitive spot on your neck. “I want to hear you, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of desire. “Tell me how much you want me,”.
You let out a soft moan as his fingers teased you with slow, deliberate strokes. Your body arched into his touch, desperate for more, your nails lightly dragging down his back. “I want you,” you breathed, your voice shaky, filled with need. “I want all of you, Joe. Please,”.
He groaned in response, pressing his body closer to yours as his lips captured yours in a deep, passionate kiss. His movements grew more urgent, his hips rocking against yours, each thrust deeper and slower, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you was overwhelming, but all you wanted was more, to feel him even closer. “God, you feel so good,” Joe whispered between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect. I’m going to take care of you, baby. Make you feel so good,”.
His rhythm was steady and deep at first, savoring every moment, each thrust building slowly as his muscles flexed with every movement. The heat between you two was growing, his breath becoming heavier as he pressed you closer, meeting your body with more urgency. “You’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you to meet his every thrust. “I can’t get enough of you. You feel incredible, baby.”
His cock grazed over your sweet spot, each push and pull causing gasps to leave your lips. “Oh, Joe…fuck…fuck me,” you moaned. 
Each movement sent waves of pleasure through your body, your hands tracing his back, feeling every muscle ripple with each thrust. His pace picked up, but he kept the rhythm slow, savoring the moment, his eyes dark with desire but soft with affection. “You’re going to be so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of awe as he kissed you again. “I can’t wait to see you carrying my baby. I’ll give you everything, Y/N. Everything,”.
His words sent a rush of heat through you, your body trembling with the intensity. “Joe…I-...you feel so good. I love you, I love you so much,” you whimpered, your brain clouded with lust and love for the man above you. He shifted his position, his hands pushing your legs further apart as he deepened each thrust, his rhythm slow but powerful, pushing you to the edge with every motion. “You feel amazing…fuck- I love you,” he panted, his voice strained. 
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you whined, feeling his large hand on your belly. 
“I know, baby. I know,” he groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder as he continued to pound into your slick core. With each movement, he drove deeper, his body moving in sync with yours, filling you completely. His hands traced every curve of your body, his lips whispering more praise, more sweet words. “You’re so perfect. So perfect for me, baby. Tell me you’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low with hunger. “Tell me you want this,”.
“Yes,” you gasped, your body shaking beneath him, the pressure building inside you. “Yes, I’m yours. All yours, Joe,”.
His pace grew faster, more urgent, his body shaking with the effort to hold back as he neared his high. “Take it all, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with emotion. “Take all of me,”. 
With one final deep thrust, he jerked, his body trembling as he buried himself deep inside you. The thick band in your stomach snapped at the same time as his hot seed spurted into your core, coating your walls. His grip on your hips tightened as he whispered your name, his voice full of love, desire, and a promise that lingered in the air between you two.
A little while later
“You think we did it?” you asked, your voice soft, yet a playful interest lingered in your tone.
Joe chuckled lowly, his chest vibrating against your cheek as you lay in his arms. The sound was like a secret melody that only you two shared. He let his fingers glide through your hair, the gentle touch sending a calm warmth through your body. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he replied, his voice low, teasing, yet laced with affection. “But just in case… I wouldn’t mind practicing a few more times…you know…for the sake of our little team,”.
You laughed softly, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, full of joy and love. You shifted your head up slightly to look at him, catching the look in his eyes. “Oh, so now you’re eager for two of you?” you teased, a sly smile forming on your lips.
Joe tilted his head, his grin growing wider, and you saw the admiration flicker in his eyes. It made your heart skip a beat. “If they’re anything like you, how could I not be?” his voice was sincere, his words filled with warmth and something deeper, a promise that made your pulse quicken just a little.
The simple, genuine way he looked at you sent a wave of love rushing over you, and before you even realized it, your fingers were threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you leaned in for a kiss. The kiss was soft, lingering, as if you both were savoring the sweetness of this moment, the quiet intimacy between you. “Good answer, Burrow,” you murmured against his lips, your heart gushing with affection. “Let’s see if you can keep up this energy, though,”.
His grin widened, and there was a glimmer of playful challenge in his eyes as he shifted, his strong hands finding their place on your waist. Without warning, he flipped you onto your back, the sudden shift leaving you breathless, a shock of ecstasy rushing through you. His lips found yours again in an instant, the kiss more passionate, more demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel his heat, his body pressing against yours, and it sent a wave of excitement rushing through you, making everything else fade away. “Oh, don’t worry, babe,” Joe whispered between kisses, “I’ve got plenty left in the tank.”
The way he said it, the promise in his voice, made your heart race again. Everything around you faded as the moment pulled between you–soft and full of meaning. His hands slid down your body, finding your hips, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to leave. The warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, and the way you fit together perfectly made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered.  
As he held you, the thought of what could come next–the idea of him being the father of your children–filled you with quiet excitement. This wasn’t just a brief moment. This was the beginning of something real, something you couldn’t wait to experience with him. The thought of carrying his child, of building a life together, made everything feel even more intimate, even more meaningful. You both knew this was only the start of what was to come, and that thought alone made everything feel even more precious.
And he wanted it just as bad as you.
5 Months Later
Five months later, you and Joe found yourselves navigating the world of baby shopping–something you’d never quite imagined would be this overwhelming, but here you were, standing in the middle of a store that seemed to have every possible baby item under the sun. The shelves were stacked with tiny clothes, soft toys, cribs, diapers, bottles, pacifiers, and honestly, you were starting to lose track. Your baby bump was prominent now, a constant reminder that your life was about to get a whole lot more chaotic–and you couldn’t wait.
Joe, of course, was hilariously lost in the sea of options. He stood in front of a shelf of baby pacifiers, holding up two identical ones, squinting at them as if they were the most complicated decision of his life. “Babe, I swear…they look exactly the same. Why are there so many of these?” Joe muttered, a confused frown crossing his face. “What’s the difference between a giraffe pacifier and a…regular one? Are these for actual babies or are they just toys?”.
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight of him, standing there like a man on the brink of a breakdown. “Joey, they’re just pacifiers, it’s not that deep,”. You moved over and picked up the giraffe one he was holding, smiling as you handed it to him. “This one has a cute giraffe on it. Baby Burrow is going to love it,”.
He made a dramatic face, clearly trying to comprehend how pacifiers were even a thing in the first place. “Okay, but like…why so many giraffes? Can’t we just stick with one? There are a hundred versions of the same thing in here,”.
You laughed and stepped closer to him, your hand resting on your growing belly. “Welcome to parenthood, babe. The options never end,”.
Joe stared at the shelves again, now starting to feel like he might have made a huge mistake agreeing to this shopping trip. “This is… way harder than any game-winning play,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he scanned the baby aisles. “I don’t even know where to start. Look at all this stuff. Baby clothes, diapers, wipes–combo wipes–isn’t one pack enough?”.
“I can’t believe you’re comparing diapers to football plays,” you teased, giving him a playful eye roll. “But I’m starting to see it now..you’re overwhelmed. I knew this was going to happen,”.
He finally turned to you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “So, this is what you meant by making you Juno, huh?” his voice had a light, teasing edge, and you could see the twinkle in his eye as he tried to make sense of the madness.
You stopped in your tracks, staring at him for a second. A slow smile spread across your face as you realized that, yes, this was your life now–the pregnancy, the baby stuff, the chaos–and it felt absolutely right. You walked over to him, shaking your head with a smile. “Exactly. You loved me right and I let you make me Juno. Congratulations,”.
Joe’s grin only grew wider as he took a step closer to you, his arms slipping around your waist and his hand resting on your bump. “Well, if I’m the cause of this, I guess that makes me the one who has to do all the heavy lifting when it comes to baby gear, huh?” he wiggled his eyebrows, trying to hide his playfulness behind mock seriousness. 
“Oh, you better believe it,” you said, holding your belly with one hand while you wrapped the other around his neck. “That means carrying all the baby stuff from the car to the house. You ready for that, Burrow?”.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice suddenly taking on an overly confident tone, even though you could see his inner panic behind his eyes. “I’ll carry everything, no problem. I’m ready to be a dad,”.
You raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see how ready you are when the baby actually gets here,”.
Just as you said that, Joe leaned down to kiss you softly, a kiss that was sweet, slow, and full of promise. He pulled away after a moment, his lips twirling into a grin. “I’ll be ready, babe. You know why?” He paused for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying this moment. “Because I’m gonna be the best damn dad there ever was and I have the best damn mom by my side,”.
You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. You rested your head against his chest for a moment, the soft buzz of the slightly busy store around you fading. “You’re already the best, Joe,”.
He hugged you tighter, his hand gently brushing over your bump, and then he looked at you with a soft smile. “You’re the best too, babe. And this whole baby thing? I think we’ve got this, I’m serious,”.
The two of you stood there for a moment, surrounded by aisles of tiny socks and stuffed animals, but it didn’t matter. At this moment, nothing else was more important than the two of you and the new life you were about to bring into the world. The future felt as bright as Joe’s smile, and there was no one else you’d rather do this with.
As you both walked toward the checkout with your cart full of baby things, Joe glanced down at you with that same, goofy grin that made your heart skip a beat. “Okay, maybe one more pacifier…just in case,”.
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re already thinking ahead, huh? I guess we should just buy the whole store,”.
“Well,” Joe said, pulling you close as you reached the register, “We might as well start preparing for the chaos. But hey, at least we’re in this together,”.
“Always, Joe,” you said, smiling as you leaned in for another kiss. “There’s nobody else I’d rather be with right now. Nobody else I’d rather have make me juno,”. 
–The End–
505 notes · View notes
machveil · 1 day ago
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Mmmmmmm loser!simon and short!reader size training mmmmm buying multiple dildos increasing in size in order to slowly train your inside to fit him in mmm maybe dedicating a day inserting the biggest one all day inside to prep and finally try to insert him inside that night mmm maybe loser!simon bursting out just from helping you to take the dildo out of you because it felt so warm and slick from you keeping it snug inside you the whole day and the moment the imagination of what if it was him instead being cockwarmed inside you that whole day- the thought alone made him went feral there and then mmm
hi, oh my god? [blows up]
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CW: Fem!Reader, size difference, dildos, size training because Little Lieutenant Riley is big, Loser!Simon Riley is his own warning, oral and fingering (Fem!Receiving), spit
Loser!Simon Riley who desperately wants to be able to bully himself inside you. he doesn’t want to hurt you though, hates the thought of you being in discomfort or forcing yourself to take him. even though he’s tried oral and fingering you, slow, comfortable hours between your thighs, he always stops short of fully burying himself. he can’t, not when your eyebrows cinch and your breathing gets unsteady. he’ll always work you towards an orgasm for trying, you did so good for him, he doesn’t mind a handjob in return or finishing himself off if you’re tired. as much as he wants to feel you he won’t push you to take him
Loser!Simon Riley who buys a dildo for you, straight-faced when he presents it to you - ears flushing a little as he stares at you. he really just wanted you to feel good, he always does, and if he can’t work his cock into you then this will do. he didn’t expect to like it so much, cradling you against him while crooning praise, lips pressed to your forehead while he thrusts the silicone in and out of you. it’s nothing compared to what he’s working with, but watching you take it has him breathing heavily. the mixture of lube, slick, and spit coating the dildo has his attention, the way you cry out when he tilts it at a different angle. warm brown eyes watching the way your legs shake and spasm, making sure to bury the toy to the hilt when you orgasm
Loser!Simon Riley who comes home a week later with a new dildo. a little longer, a little more girth. “S’just a little bigger, yeah? You can handle it.”, he knows you can. he doesn’t mind starting off with his mouth and fingers, crooked nose brushing against your clit as he loses himself in your cunt. he starts you off with the first toy, quiet and patient as the fake tip runs along your slit. there’s something about watching you take it that makes him feel elated, shallow thrusts as he rocks the dildo into you. as much as you’re the one crying out and holding onto him, lost in the euphoria of him hitting all the right nerves, Simon’s sure he’s never been harder. especially when he switches to the new dildo, face flushed and straining against his boxers with how it easily slips into you. he holds you close, nosing at your neck as he picks up the pace, watching how it glides in and out of you
Loser!Simon Riley who’s fascinated watching you take larger dildos, thoughts running wild as he thinks about you taking a toy bigger than him. for now he’s content sitting between your legs, a hand pressing down over your tummy as he works his latest purchase into you. “Think you’ll take me t’night.”, voice gravelly as you whine, eyes glued to the way you’re stretching around the toy. as excited as he is with the thought of finally sliding into you, Simon’s more excited that you agreed to have this dildo in you for the day. he’d take it out if you asked, but he’s already trembling with the image in his mind. it plays out how he envisioned - watching your breath hitch as you try to sit down, the way your legs shake when you walk. it’s a long day, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment when he excuses himself to the bathroom after lunch. he barely managed to pull himself out of his boxers before drenching his hand in pearly cum
Loser!Simon Riley who’s fidgety when you both finally retire to your bedroom. still silent as ever, but he’s eyeing you, a slight twitch to his fingers. once you settle in bed he’s following you, pressing gentle kisses to your face as he shimmies your underwear down, soaked in the middle. he can’t help but trace the base of the toy, thumbs running over the slick silicone. there’s a perverse feeling in his chest when he inches it out, a pathetic whine resonating in his throat from how warm it is. he can’t help but toy with it, dumbly working it in and out of you as he watches it split you open. does he really need to replace it? it’s already made you feel so good, kept you full better than he’s ever done. he doesn’t even register how he’s grinding his hips against the sheets, too caught up in bullying the dildo back into you. he’s moving on autopilot, drools onto the cock in his hand before thrusting it back inside you. the only thing that makes him stop is his orgasm, eyes fluttering shut when you climax around the toy, his hips stuttering as he lowly moans
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revelboo · 3 days ago
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I absolutely love your writing! Scratches my brain just right! How do you think they would react to tattoos? I'm pretty much covered and just curious about your thoughts!
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Tattoo Reaction Scenarios
Various Transformers x Reader
IDW Starscream
• Skimming his lips against your neck, Starscream feels you shiver when his denta graze you. Optics devouring as he lazily maps you out with his mouth and servos. Lingering on the colorful designs inked on your soft skin. “I like these decorations.”
• “They’re tattoos.” Sprawled on your belly beside him, you feel his servos tracing along your shoulder and lingering there. “Do you guys do anything like this?” Inhaling as he finds the one on your hip with gentle touches.
• “Decorating our armor plating is fairly common,” he replies, moving your hair aside to trace over your neck. He’d never bothered with the practice, liking himself the way he is, but he likes the art decorating your skin. “Some change their color schemes regularly.”
• Rolling onto your back, his optics heat as he looms over you. “You could write out your name for me in Cybertronian characters and I could get it tattooed somewhere,” you tease, tugging at his wrist so you can lay his servos against your collar bone. “Maybe here.” Pulling his down to your inner thigh, you grin as his expression becomes possessive. “Or here.”
IDW Sunstreaker
• Ignoring the twins doing their own things, you turn your back to them and pull your sweater off over your head, stripping down to a tank top. Because for once, it’s not freezing cold. Or maybe, you’re running a fever. Sitting crosslegged to fold the sweater, you don’t even realize Sunstreaker has moved until a big servo touches your shoulder nearly scaring you to death. Something that big shouldn’t be that quiet when he wants to be. Reaching back, you swat him. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
• Ignoring your annoyance, his optics trail over your shoulders and upper back. Studying the colorful designs winding over your skin that you’d kept hidden. You’d made yourself a canvas, so why hide it? “Different artists,” he murmurs, servo tracing a pattern on your bicep.
• There’s no judgment in his tone, just curiosity and it eases the tension bracketing your spine. Reaching, you touch one. “Yeah, I designed this one,” you say, chin lifting. “This one a friend sketched out.” You wonder what he thinks of them, unwilling to explain their meanings to him just yet. Some of them still hurt you if you dwell on them like the script on the inside of your wrist with a signature painstakingly copied.
• Fascinated, he explores each one. Wondering what they mean, the stories behind them. Also knowing from the way your jaw is set, that you’re not ready entrust them to him just yet. Venting softly, he turns over his wrist, servos tracing a scar marring his otherwise pristine paint. Not art, but a mark with a story and your eyes study it and then lift to his optics. “A story for a story?” He offers and you smile slightly.
IDW Bluestreak
• “Needles?” He ask, his tone so dismayed you almost laugh as his servos hover over your skin. Not touching you, because he’s always so conscious of your personal space. Afraid of upsetting you or crossing a boundary he’s not allowed. “Didn’t that hurt?”
• “It gets easier every time,” you say, catching his big servo in your hands and pulling. And finally he cautiously touches your arm and the scrolling tattoo there. “I kind of look forward to that little bite of pain now.” Door wings lifting slightly at that, he can understand all too well needing pain to ground yourself. You’re like him, then. Carrying around something you keep hidden inside.
TF Earthspark Megatron
• “Gladiators painted themselves before battle. To inspire themselves and to instill fear in their opponents,” he murmurs as he gestures at the ink peeking out at your collar. He’d worn such paint in the pits, remembers striding out under those blinding lights as the bloodthirsty crowd looked down and screamed his name. Fans that would still cheer whether or not he survived his next battle. “They usually weren’t permanent marks, though.”
• He sounds so melancholy as you reach to touch his servos, bridging the distance between you both and surprising him. “If you ever want to talk about it?” Smiling ruefully, he gently traces your cheek with a servo. And you know it’s a no. Or at least a not yet. Laying your palm against his lingering servo, you begin to speak. Explaining your tattoos and showing them to him. Reaching out even if he’s not ready to share with you just yet.
TFP Ratchet
• “Another one?” He growls, spotting that shiny stuff taped to the inside of your wrist. Knowing you’ve gone and had another human embed ink under your skin again even though he can’t understand why. The designs are pretty enough, but he’d done some research and he knows it’s a painful process. So why harm yourself for art?
• Rolling your eyes, you ghost your fingertips over the dressing covering your tattoo. Still too new and sore, but you wonder what he’ll think of it when he realizes you had tattooed his cross with the Autobot insignia inside it on yourself. Most likely, he’ll just gape at you and get flustered. But you’d wanted to wear his badge, wanted something permanent of him to carry for the rest of your life.
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starkeyslibrary · 1 day ago
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FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 3
pairing: you x drew starkey
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The night Drew came back from his so-called “night out with the boys”, the tension was thick in the apartment. The sound of the front door creaking open felt like a bomb going off. You had been sitting on the couch for the last hour, alternatives between staring at your phone and looking out the window, hoping that something – anything – would make the ache in your chest fade. But the pain only deepened, and as the door clicked closed behind him, your stomach churned in a mix for dread and anger.
Drew walked in, his usual confident stride slowing when he saw you sitting there. There was a slight hesitation in his step, a quiet sign that he knew something was off. His eyes immediately darted to you, a mix of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite read. But the moment he stepped further into the room, your frustration broke free.
You didn’t even give him a chance to greet you, the words spilling out before he could say a word. “You’re late,” you said, your voice flat but filled with an edge he hadn’t heard in a long time.
Drew stopped in his tracks, glancing at his watch. “I told you, it was just a night out with the guys. Nothing big.” He said, his tone light, almost too casual. But you saw right through it. His words didn’t feel genuine anymore. You had heard the excuses before, and they were getting old.
You stood up, not wanting to be so passive about it anymore. “A night out with the guys? Really? That’s what you’re going with?” The bitterness in your voice caught you off guard, but there was no going back now.
Drew looked taken aback by the sharpness in your voice. “What’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you saw those photos.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to contain the words that had been bubbling up inside for days. “Yeah, I saw the photos, Drew. You and Odessa. Out in public again. Walking around like everything is fine. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him the chance.
“No. Don’t you dare try to explain it away. I’m not stupid. I can see exactly what’s going on.” You could feel the anger rising in your chest, a mix of hurt and frustration that you couldn’t keep bottled up any longer. “You’re out with her, looking all cozy, like she’s the one you want. Not me. And I just … I don’t get it. You told me it was all fake, just for the cameras, but I can’t keep pretending that I believe you.”
Drew’s face hardened, and the disappointment in his eyes stung more than anything. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his cool, but you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making something out of nothing. It’s just part of the job, I swear. She’s just a co-star, and this is all for publicity. You know that. I thought you understood that.”
“Understand?” you laughed bitterly, but the sound came out more like a sob. “You think I understand? You think I’m supposed to just sit here and watch you with her while pretending like everything is fine? No, Drew. I can’t do that. I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t hurting me. That I’m not losing you, piece by piece.”
Drew stepped closer to you, his expression softening as if trying to reach you, but you were too far gone. Too far past the point of no return.
“I’m trying okay?” His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was being honest, but it didn’t change anything. “I’m trying to make this work, but this whole thing is a mess. I never wanted it to be like this.”
You shook your head, feeling the sting of his words like a slap across your face. “Make it work? How do you expect me to trust you when I see you out there with her, smiling like nothing’s wrong? How do you expect me to keep believing you when I know that every word you’ve said about us was just...  just a lie?”
Drew’s face darkened at your accusation, his voice rising as the frustration that had been simmering inside him for days boiled over. “I’m not lying to you, Y/N! I never wanted this to happen either, but this is the way things are right now. I’m doing what I have to do, for both of us.”
“For both of us?” you scoffed, the tears that had been building in your eyes finally breaking free. “This is for you, Drew. It’s always been for you. For your career, for your image. And I’m just supposed to sit here and be okay with it? You’re asking me to pretend like I’m okay with being second to her, to everything you’re doing for the cameras. You know what, Drew? I can’t do that anymore. I’m done pretending.”
There was a long, tense silence between you, both of you staring at each other as if trying to make sense of the chaos you had created. Drew ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained but you were beyond caring. You had tried so hard to hold on, to believe him and in what you had, but every day felt like a betrayal.
You stepped back, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t trust you anymore, Drew. Not after everything. You’ve lied to me over and over, and I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m not going to keep living in this lie, this lie that both of you have created for the world.”
Drew looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just closed his eyes, the weight of your words crashing over him. He didn’t speak for a long moment, and for the first time, you realized he was just as lost as you were. But that didn’t change the fact it was too late.
Without another word, you grabbed your jacket, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that apartment with him. Not like this. You needed space, you needed to breathe.
You walked the streets aimlessly, tears still wet on your cheeks as the cold air bit at your skin. Every step felt like a weight, each one dragging you further from the man you thought you knew. The city lights flickered in the distance, but they did nothing to brighten the darkness in your heart.
You didn’t even know how far you had walked until you found yourself standing in front of a quiet park by the water. The silence felt both comforting and unbearable, as if the world around you had completely disappeared. You collapsed onto a bench, hugging your arms to your chest to stave off the cold, but it did little to ease the storm inside of you.
The moments from earlier replayed in your mind – the fight, Drew’s words, your own pain – and all you could do was sit there and feel the weight of it all.
That’s when the flash of camera lights caught your attention.
At first, you didn’t react, too numb to care about the photographers who had followed you. But then, the flashes intensified. You wiped your face quickly, but it didn’t stop them. The tears you had tried to hide were now on full display, and you felt like your privacy, your pain was being exposed to the world.
“Y/N! Over here! A little smile for us!” A photographer called out, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength to smile, not when everything felt so broken.
Your heart thudded in your chest as more flashes went off, capturing the raw emotion on your face – the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion. You could hear their voices, the jarring sound of camera clicks, as they shouted for you to look at the camera. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to perform for them. Not anymore.
You turned away, trying to escape their prying eyes, but you knew it was futile. The pictures will be everywhere tomorrow. The world would see you in this vulnerable state, and it felt like another punch to the gut.
You couldn’t stop the tears now. You couldn’t stop the feeling of being exposed, of being broke, of being so utterly alone in a world that seemed to move on without you.
A/N: please don’t hate me LOL😭
TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291
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goldfades · 1 day ago
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I feel like we need to have a TikTok trend blurbs I just love the ones you did already.
Like when the reader and Luke is going to bed and he says “goodnight I love you and she says thank you”that one can be good
i love these sm HAHAHHAHAA
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the apartment is quiet, the kind of stillness that settles over everything once the day is officially over. you’re in bed, tucked under the covers with the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room. luke’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth—you can hear the faint sound of the faucet running and the occasional shuffle of his feet against the tiles.
you’re scrolling through your phone, aimlessly thumbing through videos, when you hear him pad into the room. he’s shirtless, wearing the same old pair of gray sweatpants you always threaten to steal, and his hair’s still slightly damp from his shower. it’s a sight you’ve seen a hundred times, but it still makes your chest do that stupid little flip.
��you on tiktok again?” he teases, climbing into bed and nudging your shoulder with his.
“maybe,” you reply, locking your phone and setting it on the nightstand. “what’s it to you?”
he smirks, leaning back against the pillows and pulling you closer so your head rests against his chest. “just wondering what you’re plotting this time. you’ve been suspiciously quiet lately.”
you roll your eyes, poking his side until he squirms. “not everything’s a scheme, hughes.”
“uh-huh,” he says, voice laced with skepticism but too sleepy to argue further. instead, he wraps an arm around you, his palm warm against your shoulder.
there’s a long stretch of silence, the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. his breathing starts to even out, his hand absently tracing patterns on your arm, and you think he’s on the brink of sleep when he speaks up. your phone is already recording, showing half of your face and the curls behind you.
“goodnight,” he murmurs softly, voice low and drowsy. “i love you.”
you pause for just a second—just enough to be noticeable—before answering in the most nonchalant tone you can muster:
“thank you.”
the room goes still.
his hand stops moving, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a slow, deliberate breath.
“...what?” he asks, his voice sharper now, tinged with confusion.
you shift slightly, pretending to adjust the blankets. “i said thank you.”
he pulls back, just enough to tilt his head and look down at you. “that’s not what you’re supposed to say.”
you blink up at him, feigning innocence. “what do you mean? it’s polite to say thank you when someone says something nice.”
his brows furrow, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “but—but that’s not how this works,” he argues, his tone half exasperated, half bewildered. “i say ‘i love you,’ and you’re supposed to say it back!”
“huh,” you say, tapping your chin like you’re deep in thought. “weird. i don’t think that’s a rule.”
“it is a rule,” he insists, sitting up now, the sleepiness completely gone from his face. “it’s literally, like, the rule.”
you bite back a grin, watching as he spirals into full-on disbelief. “are you saying you don’t love me?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly at the end.
“no, i didn’t say that,” you reply, stretching the words out.
“then why didn’t you say it back?!”
you shrug, trying to keep a straight face. “felt like switching things up.”
“switching things up?” he repeats, his voice going higher, and you have to physically turn your head to avoid laughing in his face.
“yeah, keeps the relationship interesting,” you explain, patting his hand like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“oh, my god,” he groans, flopping back against the pillows dramatically. “you’re actually evil. you’re trying to kill me. this is emotional warfare.”
you finally let out the laugh you’ve been holding in, and he turns his head to glare at you, though the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a smile.
“i hate you,” he mutters, but there’s no real bite to it.
you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “love you too, babe.”
he groans again, but this time he pulls you back into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles.
you grin, snuggling closer. “thanks, love you too.”
“stop saying thank you!”
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paxtito · 1 day ago
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pretty girl
pairings: wednesday x fem!reader
word count: 3685
warnings: smut 18+. just lesbian sex innit (w receiving)— (all characters are 18+)
summary: wednesday put together a little surprise date night, but, enid being enid, couldn’t keep it a secret
a/n: based on this request: ‘I love your writing and was wondering if you could make another smut fic with Wednesday? Maybe something sorta soft, honestly anything would do. Thanks!’ hope this is what you were looking for and thank you!! spent the day resting which gave me plenty of time to do this because my lil’ anger issues of a dog bit my cheek after wanting my birthday cake 😒
MASTERLIST
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The morning air is crisp as you walk across campus with Enid, her usual vibrant energy making up for your grogginess. You clutch your coffee tightly, half-listening as she chatters about the latest gossip in the werewolf pack.
“And then Ajax tried to—are you even listening to me?” she asks, bumping her shoulder into yours playfully.
“Barely,” you admit with a small smile, taking another sip of your coffee. “It’s too early for full Enid mode.”
“Rude,” she pouts dramatically before grinning. “But fine, I’ll get to the point. I’m sleeping over at Yoko’s tonight!”
“Wait, what?” you ask, blinking at her. “Why?”
Enid’s steps falter, and she looks away for a moment, biting her lip. “Oh, uh, no reason!”
You narrow your eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Enid…”
“It’s nothing!” she insists, waving her hands defensively. “Totally normal, just, uh, bestie stuff. You know, girl talk, vampire-werewolf bonding, that kind of thing.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “Fine! But you can’t tell Wednesday I told you, okay? She’d literally kill me. Like, for real this time.”
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Wednesday. “What does she have to do with this?”
Enid hesitates, looking torn. “Ugh, okay, fine,” she blurts out, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “She’s planning something for you tonight. Like, a date night or something. She told me to clear out so you two could have the dorm to yourselves.”
A warm, unexpected blush creeps up your neck. “Wait… Wednesday planned something? For me?”
Enid nods, her grin widening. “Yup! And let me tell you, she’s been stressing about it all week. She even glared at me less than usual yesterday, so you know it’s serious.”
You can’t help but smile, your heart fluttering at the thought of Wednesday going out of her way to plan something for you. “That’s… actually really sweet.”
“Right? But don’t tell her I told you, okay?” Enid warns, gripping your arm. “She swore me to secrecy and gave me this whole creepy ‘I’ll bury you alive’ speech. Classic Wednesday.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Good. Because I value my life,” Enid says with mock seriousness before breaking into a smile. “But seriously, I’m happy for you guys. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”
Your smile grows as you think about Wednesday, her deadpan expression softening ever so slightly when she’s around you, the way her hand lingers in yours when no one’s looking. “Yeah,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to Enid. “I know.”
As the two of you reach the doors to your next class, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Whatever Wednesday has planned, you know it’ll be something only she could come up with—quiet, dark, and maybe a little macabre. And you can’t wait to see what she’s put together.
The afternoon sun filters through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow across your desk. Your fingers absentmindedly tap against the surface as you try to focus on the teacher's droning voice, but your thoughts keep drifting to Wednesday and the surprise she has planned for you.
Despite your best efforts to keep a straight face, a small, giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You sneak a glance at Wednesday from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge her reaction.
To your surprise, she's already staring at you, her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Your gaze meets hers, and you quickly look away, feeling your cheeks heat up under her intense scrutiny.
"You," she says flatly, her voice cutting through the monotony of the lecture. "Are you feeling alright? You seem... distracted."
You swallow hard, your mind racing for an excuse. "I'm fine," you manage, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. "Just thinking about the assignment."
Wednesday raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Her gaze bores into you, as if she's trying to read your thoughts.
You squirm in your seat, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope. You can practically hear Enid's voice in your head, warning you not to blow her cover.
But it's too late. Wednesday's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of panic crossing her face before she schools her features back into a neutral expression.
"Ah," she says slowly, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
You bite your lip, wondering if you should press further. But before you can open your mouth, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.
Wednesday stands abruptly, gathering her books without another word. She brushes past you, her shoulder bumping against yours in a way that feels almost like a dismissal.
You watch her go, your heart sinking. You've blown it, haven't you? Ruined whatever surprise she had planned.
You scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over your chair in your haste. Your backpack slips off the desk, scattering your belongings across the floor.
"Wednesday, wait!" you call out, your voice echoing in the now-empty classroom.
You chase after her, weaving through the throng of students in the hallway. Your heart pounds in your chest as you catch up to her, reaching out to grasp her arm.
Wednesday whirls around, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. "What?" she snaps, her voice sharp.
You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I... I'm sorry," you manage, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I didn't mean to ruin your surprise. I just... I couldn't help myself."
For a moment, Wednesday just stares at you, her expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, her shoulders slump slightly, and she lets out a sigh.
"You're impossible," she mutters, but there's no real heat behind her words.
You blink, taken aback by her sudden shift in demeanor. "I... I know," you say softly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "But I meant what I said. I'm sorry."
Wednesday is silent for a moment, and then she nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fine," she says, her tone grudging. "But don't think this means you're off the hook. You owe me one."
You grin, relief washing over you. "I can live with that," you say, your voice light and teasing. "So... are you going to tell me what you have planned, or do I have to guess?"
Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Guess," she says simply, before turning and walking away, leaving you to follow in her wake.
You stand outside Wednesday's dorm room, your hand hovering over the doorknob. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.
Despite your earlier promise to keep quiet, you can't shake the nagging feeling that you've ruined whatever surprise she had planned. You glance down at your uniform, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance.
"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, giving your skirt a quick smoothing. "She's not going to bite."
With a final nod of determination, you raise your hand and knock on the door. The sound echoes through the empty hallway, making you wince.
Silence greets you for a moment, and you wonder if Wednesday is ignoring you. But then, the door swings open, revealing Wednesday standing in the doorway.
She's changed out of her school uniform, now wearing a simple black dress that falls to her knees. Her hair is loose, tumbling down her back in dark waves.
For a moment, you're struck dumb, your brain short-circuiting at the sight of her. She looks... pretty. Soft. Nothing like her usual sharp edges and icy demeanor.
Wednesday arches an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a smirk. "Cat got your tongue?" she asks, her voice dry.
You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. "No," you manage, clearing your throat. "I just... I didn't expect you to look so..."
You trail off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence without sounding like a complete fool. Wednesday's smirk widens, and she steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.
"Come in," she says simply, before closing the door behind you with a soft click.
You step into Wednesday's dorm room, your eyes widening as you take in the scene before you. The furniture has been pushed to the sides, creating a large open space in the center of the room. Soft, ambient lighting casts a warm glow over everything, making the room feel intimate and cozy.
In the middle of it all stands Wednesday, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. She's holding out her hand to you, a silent invitation.
"What's all this?" you ask, your voice coming out a little breathless.
Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "I'm going to teach you how to dance," she says simply, her tone matter-of-fact.
You blink, taken aback by her words. "Dance?" you repeat, feeling a little foolish. "Like... ballroom dancing?"
Wednesday nods, her dark eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Yes," she confirms, her voice dry. "Like my parents do. It's a family tradition."
You feel your heart skip a beat at the thought of Wednesday's parents, of the life she leads outside of Nevermore. It's a side of her you've never seen before, and the idea of being a part of it, even in a small way, makes your stomach flutter.
"I... I'd like that," you manage, stepping forward to take her hand.
Wednesday's fingers are cool against yours, her grip firm and steady. She pulls you closer, her body mere inches from yours.
"Good," she says simply, before beginning to guide you through the steps.
You stumble a little at first. But Wednesday is patient, her instructions clear and concise. Slowly, you begin to find your rhythm, moving in tandem with her.
As you dance, you can't help but notice the way Wednesday's eyes never leave yours. There's an intensity there, a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch in your throat.
"You're doing well," she murmurs, her voice soft. "Just follow my lead."
You move gracefully in Wednesday's arms, your body reacting instinctively to her guidance. The fabric of your black trousers brushes against her dress as you spin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
Wednesday's gaze is intense, her dark eyes boring into yours with an unspoken question. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart races at her proximity.
"You're a natural," she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. "I knew you'd be good at this."
You duck your head, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's easy when I have a good partner," you manage, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "Is that so?" she asks, her tone teasing.
You nod, your gaze flickering down to her lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "Definitely," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper.
Wednesday hums, her fingers tightening around yours. "Good," she says simply, before pulling you closer, your bodies now just inches apart.
You can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the scent of her perfume filling your nostrils. Your breath hitches, your pulse pounding in your ears.
"Now," Wednesday says, her voice low and husky. "Let's try something a little more... challenging."
She steps back, her hand leaving yours. You feel a momentary pang of loss, your fingers aching to touch her again.
But then Wednesday begins to move, her body swaying to a beat only she can hear. She extends her hand, a silent invitation for you to join her.
You hesitate for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest. But then, with a deep breath, you step forward, ready to follow wherever she leads.
You take Wednesday's hand, her fingers cool and strong in your grasp. She pulls you close, your bodies pressing together as she guides you into a new dance.
This one is more sensual, the steps slower and more deliberate. Wednesday's gaze never leaves yours, her dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.
You move together, your bodies swaying in perfect sync. The world around you fades away, until there is nothing but the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the dance.
Wednesday's hand slides up your arm, her fingers trailing over your skin. You shiver at the contact, your nerve endings igniting with each touch.
"You're doing well," she murmurs, her lips barely brushing against your ear. "Keep going."
You nod, your body responding to her commands without hesitation. You've never felt so in tune with another person, so utterly in sync.
As the dance comes to an end, Wednesday pulls you into a final, tight embrace. You can feel the heat of her body against yours, the softness of her breasts pressing into your chest.
For a moment, you're frozen, your heart pounding in your ears. You know you should pull away, put some distance between you. But you can't bring yourself to move, not when Wednesday feels so perfect in your arms.
Slowly, tentatively, you raise your hand, your fingers brushing against the silky strands of her hair. Wednesday's eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her tongue. "I..."
Your heart races as Wednesday's breathy voice caresses your name. In this moment, suspended in time, the world seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you, hearts beating as one.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, you lean in closer, your forehead resting against hers. Your hands slide up to cup her face, thumbs gently stroking her high cheekbones.
Wednesday's eyes flutter open, dark and filled with a vulnerability you've never seen before. Her hands come up to rest on your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
"I..." she starts, her voice barely a whisper. "I want..."
But she trails off, unable to finish the thought. Instead, she closes the remaining distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath away.
You melt into the kiss, your body molding against hers like it was made to fit. Wednesday's lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a desperate hunger.
Your hands slide into her hair, tangling in the silky strands as you deepen the kiss. Wednesday makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, a sound of pure need.
Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of her. The rest of the world fades away, leaving only this moment, this connection.
When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. Wednesday rests her forehead against yours, her hands still gripping your waist tightly.
"That was..." she starts, her voice rough with emotion.
"Perfect," you finish for her, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Wednesday hums in agreement, nuzzling her nose against yours. "I've wanted to do that for a while now," she admits, her tone shy.
You chuckle softly, your fingers carding through her hair. "I'm glad you did," you murmur, bringing your lips to hers once more.
As you kiss, you know that this is just the beginning. The start of something new, something beautiful and terrifying and utterly intoxicating.
Wednesday's hands slide down to your hips, her fingers gripping your waistband tightly. With a sudden tug, she pulls you flush against her, your body pressing into hers.
You gasp at the contact, your hands flying up to grip her shoulders for balance. Wednesday takes advantage of your momentary distraction, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.
With a soft push, she sends you tumbling onto the mattress, her body following yours. You land with a bounce, your breath knocked from your lungs as Wednesday settles on top of you, her weight pinning you in place.
"Wednesday," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you..."
But your question is cut off as Wednesday captures your lips in another searing kiss. Her tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch of you with a desperate hunger.
You moan into the kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, urging her closer. Wednesday grinds against you, the heat of her core seeping through the thin layers of fabric separating you.
Wednesday breaks the kiss, her dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that steals your breath. She sits up, straddling your hips, her hands resting on your chest.
"I want you," she whispers, her voice low and husky. "But we don't have to..."
You reach up, cupping her face in your hands. "I want this," you assure her, your thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "I want you."
Wednesday nods, her gaze never leaving yours. Slowly, she leans down, pressing her lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.
Your hands slide down her back, settling on her hips. You guide her movements, encouraging her to grind against you. The friction is delicious, the heat building between your legs.
Wednesday gasps into your mouth, her hips moving faster, more urgently. You can feel her growing wetter, her arousal soaking through your clothes.
You break the kiss, panting heavily. "Let me," you plead, your voice rough with desire.
Wednesday nods, shifting off of you. You sit up, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for the hem of her dress. With a swift movement, you pull it over her head, tossing it aside.
She sits before you, clad only in a black lace bra and matching panties. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her pale skin flawless in the dim light.
You lean forward, pressing reverent kisses along her collarbone, down the swell of her breasts. Wednesday shivers, her fingers tangling in your hair.
Your hands slide down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a gentle tug, you pull them down her legs, leaving her bare before you.
You take a moment to drink in the sight of her, your gaze roaming over her body appreciatively. Wednesday flushes under your attention, her thighs pressing together shyly.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper, your voice filled with awe.
Wednesday shakes her head, her dark hair falling in waves around her face. "I'm not..." she starts, but you silence her with a kiss.
Switching positions, you lay Wednesday down on the bed, your body covering hers. You capture her lips in a searing kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, exploring every inch of her.
Wednesday moans softly into the kiss, her hips arching up to meet yours. Your hands slide down her sides, cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.
You break the kiss, your lips trailing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. Wednesday gasps, her fingers digging into your back, urging you on.
Your hand slides down her stomach, teasing the edge of her panties. Wednesday's breath hitches, her thighs parting slightly in invitation.
You dip your fingers beneath the fabric, finding her slick and ready for you. Wednesday whimpers, her hips bucking into your touch.
Your fingers glide through Wednesday's slick folds, finding her sensitive bud. She gasps, her hips jerking at the sudden contact.
"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her lips.
You circle her clit with teasing strokes, reveling in the way her body responds to your touch. Wednesday's thighs tremble, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her.
Slowly, you slide a finger inside her, groaning at the way her walls clench around you. Wednesday is so hot, so tight, so perfect.
You add a second finger, pumping them in and out of her slick heat. Wednesday's head thrashes on the pillow, her mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure.
Your thumb finds her clit again, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub. Wednesday's hips buck wildly, her body chasing the release you're so eager to give her.
"Please," she whimpers, her voice barely audible. "I need..."
But she doesn't finish the thought, her body arching off the bed as you curl your fingers just right. You can feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around your digits.
With a final twist of your wrist, Wednesday comes undone, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. You hold her through it, whispering words of praise and encouragement.
As she comes down from her high, you press soft kisses to her sweat-dampened skin, murmuring your love and devotion. Wednesday clings to you, her body still trembling with aftershocks.
In this moment, the rest of the world fades away. There is only the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of love and passion.
You wake to the sound of the door opening, your eyes fluttering open to find Wednesday still asleep beside you. For a moment, you simply lie there, taking in the sight of her.
Her dark hair is fanned out across the pillow, her face relaxed in sleep. Your gaze travels down her body, tracing the curves and dips you explored so thoroughly the night before.
The door swings open fully, revealing a surprised Enid standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene before her - you and Wednesday, tangled together in the afterglow.
"Oh," she breathes, her cheeks flushing pink. "I... I didn't know you two were..."
You sit up quickly, pulling the covers up to your chin. Wednesday stirs, her eyes blinking open in confusion.
"Enid?" she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
Enid clears her throat, averting her gaze. "Sorry," she says, backing out of the room. "I'll just... I'll leave you two alone."
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you and Wednesday in a tense silence. You glance at her, unsure of what to say.
But Wednesday just sighs, turning to face you. "Well," she says, her tone dry. "That's one way to start the day."
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wonderjanga · 1 day ago
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Here's a stupid dumb crack idea you can't really die in Fawcett City like you can get hurt cartooningly but you can't die like getting hit in the head when it acts of like a mild inconvenience and gives you a headache and a scar but you won't die from it
If you leave faucet for a long time then you can die but everyone there is Immortal and kind of unaging unless you want to age
Captain marvel forgot to tell the Justice League this while fighting a villain who proceeded the flash when acts in the head
People in Fawcett don’t die. That was something the Justice League hadn’t known when Marvel had called them for help to fight some villain. Everything was going fine and dandy at first. They were winning, obviously, but then something just had to happen. A piece of the rubble somehow, you couldn’t ask any of them, fell on the fastest man alive who wasn’t able to dodge for whatever reason?Everyone, besides Marvel and the villain, who were still fighting by the way, went quiet as a mouse.
Supes: *looks horrified* “Oh my Rao! Flash!?” *flies over and lifts the rubble up*
Flash: *wobbly stands up, springing up and down like an accordion* (accordion squash)
Marvel and the villain didn’t even look their way, meanwhile, everyone is trying to get Flash to stop being a human accordion.
Supes: “Keep him still!”
GL: “I’m trying!” *using his ring to try and hold Wally still*
Batman: “Try harder.” *is trying to administer a sedative*
After that whole fiasco…
Marvel: “Hey, guys, I apprehended the villain. Where were you- why is Flash passed out on the floor.”
After they explained, seeing all their traumatized and scarred expressions, Marvel finally explained that in Fawcett, people couldn’t die. Not unless they wanted to anyways. When most Fawcitizens got hurt, they bounced back very similarly to Tom and Jerry. A wonderful demonstration of this conveniently happened when someone nearby just happened to run off a roof, hovered in the air for a solid fifteen seconds before looking down and then proceeding to fall. They then dug themselves out of the human shaped hole they left, dusted themselves off and walked off like nothing happened.
Safe to say, none of them wanted to come back to Fawcett after this. Though unfortunately, there are still times they have to visit.
Goon: *evil laughs and runs up to Batman and shoves a couple sticks of TNT into his hands*
Batman: *can’t safely throw it anywhere because of the civilians around so it blows up*
Goon: *pointing and laughing*
Batman: *standing there, somehow still alive and covered and soot. He blinks rapidly before grabbing his shark repellent and emptying the entire can on the goon’s face, eyes, and mouth*
As for why Bruce was so pressed to the point where he emptied an entire canister of shark repellent on the man? He could feel the soot everywhere. It somehow got under his mask so he feels it on every inch of skin near the upper part of his torso.
Don’t worry though, this chicanery happens to everyone else too. Like, every single Lantern that has entered Fawcett has taken a comically large hammer to head and has gotten a large bump as a result.
Marvel: *walking by when he does a double take seeing John* “Oh my Gods, what happened-”
GL(John Stewart): “I DON’T want to talk about it.”
Then there was the time Hawkgirl was chasing after a villain one time and they happened to get into Fawcett. She actually slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel. Then, the villain she was chasing stepped on a rake and got a good smack to the face.
Marvel: “Hawkgirl! What’re you doing here?” *flies down, happy to see his friend*
Hawkgirl: *gestures to the villain with a long red line down their face from the rake’s pole* “I was chasing them.”
Marvel: “Cool, cool, cool, uh… what happened to his face?”
Hawkgirl: “He stepped on a rake.”
*silence*
Hawkgirl: “Why do your people just have bananas and rakes laying around?”
Marvel: “What…?”
In conclusion, nobody besides the Fawcett heroes like being in Fawcett.
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p0orbaby · 2 days ago
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blurb idea- r is spanish and plays for arsenal, one day she finds leah on duolingo trying to learn spanish and finds it so sweet and leah is just emberrased and lalalla and then r convinces leah to let her teach leah spanish (sorry if it’s confusing😔😔)
it wasn’t confusing 🤍
-
The training ground is quiet, still wrapped in early-morning fog, and you don’t expect to hear anything but the hum of the groundskeeper’s mower. Instead, you catch a voice, stiff and deliberate, coming from the gym.
“Yo bebo… el agua?”
You pause at the door, peeking in. Leah’s standing by the weights, holding her phone at arm’s length like it might bite her. Her brow is furrowed, mouth moving around the clunky syllables like she’s trying to chew them into shape. You’re about to say something when she suddenly groans and yanks her headphones out. The familiar ding of Duolingo announcing another failed attempt echoes in the room.
“La niña’ what?” she mutters, more to herself than anyone else. She hasn’t noticed you yet. “How am I supposed to remember if she’s drinking milk or eating an apple? Who drinks milk anymore?”
“Leah?” you finally speak, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice.
Leah jumps, nearly dropping her phone. Her face turns pink immediately, the kind of flush that spreads to her ears and down her neck. “Oh, God. How long have you been standing there?”
“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know perfectly well what you’ve walked into.
Leah groans, stuffing her phone into her hoodie pocket like the evidence of her crime can be erased. “Nothing”
You raise an eyebrow. “Nothing? Because it looked like you were arguing with Duolingo about la niña’s dietary habits.”
She flushes deeper, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing outright. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh? So you weren’t learning Spanish on the sly?”
“I—” she pauses, caught. “Alright, fine. I was. Happy?”
You grin, stepping into the room. “Why?”
She shrugs, looking everywhere except at you. “I thought it might… I don’t know, be nice? For you”
That catches you off guard. “For me?”
“Yeah.” She scratches the back of her neck, a telltale sign that she’s embarrassed. “Because, you know, you’re always switching between Spanish and English so easily, and I just thought maybe I could… I don’t know, keep up”
Your heart softens despite yourself. “You could’ve just asked me, you know. I’d have helped”
Leah shrugs, suddenly fascinated with the floor. “Didn’t want to bother you”
“You? Never a bother,” you say lightly, stepping closer. “But if you’d rather an app keep roasting you, be my guest”
Her gaze snaps to yours, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. “The owl’s ruthless, by the way. Keeps telling me I’m on the verge of linguistic failure”
You laugh, taking her hand and pulling her towards the weights bench. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll teach you Spanish, but you have to actually listen to me. None of this owl nonsense”
“Deal,” she says quickly, her grin breaking through the last of her embarrassment. “But only if you promise not to tell the team about this”
“Cross my heart,” you reply, though you’re already imagining the look on the rest of the teams faces if they found out.
You sit yourself on the bench next to her, and start to teach her the basics. As she repeats the words after you, her accent is a disaster, but the determination in her eyes is unmistakable. And when she finally gets a phrase right, the way she beams at you makes your chest feel warm.
If this is her way of showing how much she cares, you’ll take it. Even if it means enduring her tragic attempts at rolling her r’s.
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jasvtsc · 14 hours ago
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good girl’s dream
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“better? you’re gonna stop cryin’ now?” he asked, keeping his fingers in your mouth.
you sniffled and nodded, however a pathetic whine escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness after he pulled his fingers out.
sometimes, ben had his moments of tenderness where he wasn’t acting like a total dick. you were his little princess, so sometimes you got special treatment—well, you always got special treatment, but the options varied.
cause he would either destroy your pussy and call you a fucking slut or hold you tightly and stroke your hair as you fell asleep in his lap.
and now, you got the more tender side of him.
he sighed and wiped his fingers on his shirt, looking at you with something that resembled both exasperation and amusement. and maybe a tiny bit of concern.
you just fell and lightly scraped your knee like half an hour ago but kept wailing even after coming home. so annoyed with the sound of you crying (and not really knowing what to do to make you feel better) he stuffed his thick digits into your mouth. and that was enough to keep you quiet and calm you down as you softly suckled on them.
but when you started blinking more heavily, your body practically going numb, he quickly withdrew them. which explained the yet another pout on your face, your lower lip slightly quivering.
“come on, baby. it’s just a small bruise. it’s not that bad,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. fuck, you were making him soft. but he couldn’t be angry when you were looking so sweet, with those big puppy eyes that just yearned for his love and attention.
gosh, you were so pathetically adorable, just wanting him to take care of you.
with a sigh, he lifted you up, placing you on his lap and lifting your leg, looking at your knee. your skin was slightly scraped and reddened but it didn’t seem to be anything serious—at least not to him. he started blowing some air on your small injury, his warm breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. he smirked and then leaned forward, placing small kisses all over the spot.
when a small smile graced your face, he pulled away and started stroking your hair.
“there we go. atta girl,” he cooed lowly, cradling the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your temple. “much better when you’re not being a sniffling baby,” he scoffed and pulled your head forward, kissing your forehead and then your lips.
“i’m not a baby,” you murmured with a pout, and ben swore to himself that if you started crying again, he’d just put a muzzle on you.
“yes, you very much are. such a lil’ crybaby. always crying and sniffling for daddy, hmm?” he teased, his hands slowly going up your legs and under your miniskirt.
you gasped as his thumbs started rubbing your folds, toying with them through the thin material of the pink-ish lace. god, did he fucking love when you wore the things he bought you.
already in a daze-like state, you slumped further into the bed, basically drowning between the pillows as he kept working you up. you let out a soft whimper and he smirked, now beginning to rub your clit.
“these sounds are so much better than you sobbin’ your pretty eyes out, baby,” he drawled, applying more pressure on your sensitive bud and making you gasp, oh so sweetly. “yeah, so much better.”
slowly, he slid your now dampened panties down, but kept them on your ankles. then, he made you cum around his dick seven times, leaving you spent and filled to the brim with his creamy essence. satisfied with himself, he pulled your panties back up and patted your core, giving your messy folds a few strokes with his thumb.
“there we go. all sleepy and filled with daddy’s cum. and we’re gonna keep it there all nicely cause we don’t want it to go to waste or do we?” he cocked an eyebrow, expecting only one answer from you.
“n-no. we won’t,” you slurred, slowly shaking your head.
“good girl,” he smiled darkly, pressing his thumb on your clothed and filled hole, feeling you clench around nothing but your mixed juices.
you were such a good girl for him.
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uhbambii · 3 days ago
Text
Sweet as Frosting
The Dellamorte villa was alive with warmth and laughter. The golden light of the kitchen illuminated the flour-dusted counter, where Rook stirred a bowl of batter with a bit more enthusiasm than technique. Her hair was tied loosely back, strands already falling free to frame her flushed cheeks.
Lucanis Dellamorte leaned against the counter beside her, his dark eyes brimming with quiet amusement. He was dressed in casual crow attire, nonetheless a bit intimidating to outsiders, though the frosting smudged across his sleeves made him look just a little less intimidating than usual.
“You know,” he drawled, his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “if you whisk any harder, the bowl might retaliate.”
Rook shot him a look, one brow arched. “I’m trying to make this perfect. You’re the one who insisted on cake instead of pie, so…” She trailed off, gesturing to the mess of ingredients around them.
Lucanis smirked. “Don’t blame me for your ambitious standards, tesoro. You’re the one who said you wanted to impress me.”
“Impress you?” Rook laughed, pausing to flick a pinch of flour at him. “Amorino, I think you’re already impressed enough.”
He tilted his head, watching her intently as though agreeing with that sentiment entirely. Then, without warning, he reached into the nearby frosting bowl, scooping a bit onto his finger and dabbing it across her nose.
“Lucanis!” she yelped, dropping the whisk and swiping at her face.
He was already laughing, the low sound resonating deep in his chest as he stepped back. “You’re much cuter when you’re messy, you know.”
“Oh, you’re asking for it now.”
Rook grabbed a handful of flour and flung it at him, hitting his dark shirt square in the chest. Lucanis stopped short, glancing down at the pale smudge on his otherwise pristine attire.
“You’re going to regret that,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
But Rook wasn’t waiting for his retaliation. She darted around the counter, laughing as Lucanis chased after her with a determined gleam in his eye. They ended up tangled in a playful scuffle, smearing frosting and flour on each other’s faces and hands as they stole kisses in between bursts of laughter.
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The cake batter was forgotten for a while, though neither seemed to mind.
It wasn’t until much later, after the cake was baked and half-decorated, and Rook was perched on the countertop with Lucanis standing between her legs, their foreheads pressed together, that she glanced at the clock on the wall.
Her heart sank. “Andraste’s ashes,” she muttered, pulling back.
Lucanis frowned, his brows knitting together. “What is it?”
“It’s one in the morning,” Rook said, sliding off the counter in a panic. “I was supposed to be home by eleven. Viago’s going to kill me.”
Lucanis caught her hand before she could rush away, his expression softening. “Stay,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I can smooth talk Viago tomorrow, save you some trouble.”
She sighed, torn between the warmth of his touch and the dread of her brother’s wrath. Finally, she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.
“You’re impossible,” she whispered against his mouth before pulling away.
“And yet, you keep coming back,” Lucanis said with a smirk, watching her gather her things.
Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face. “I’ll see you soon. Try not to miss me too much.”
Lucanis chuckled, “try not to get scolded too much,” his gaze following her as she slipped out into the night.
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The De Riva villa was quiet as Rook climbed through the open window of her room, carefully lowering herself onto the floor. She thought she’d gotten away with it, until the light flicked on.
Rook froze, turning slowly to find Viago sitting in a chair by the door, his arms crossed and his dark eyes narrowed. He was still dressed, his usual sharp crow attire despite the late hour, though his expression betrayed his annoyance.
“You want to tell me where you’ve been all night?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.
Rook scrambled for an excuse. “I was out with Teia,” she said quickly.
Another chair turned, and Teia spun into view with an equally unimpressed look. Her brown hair was loosely braided, and though her expression was softer than Viago’s, it was no less effective.
“Wanna try again?” Teia asked, arching a brow.
Rook winced. “I… was baking. At a friend’s place.”
“Baking,” Viago repeated, his tone flat. “Until one in the morning?”
“It’s… a very complicated recipe?” she offered weakly.
Teia exchanged a look with Viago, her lips twitching as though she were trying to suppress a laugh. Viago, however, didn’t seem amused.
“You know I don’t like it when you’re out this late,” he said, his voice softening slightly but still firm. “Anything could happen.”
Rook sighed, guilt creeping in. “I’m sorry, Vi. I lost track of time, that’s all. Nothing happened. I was perfectly safe at the Dellamorte villa.”
Viago’s brows furrowed, but his expression softened slightly. “Lucanis, huh?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you about seeing him. He’s… decent, as far as men like him go. Better than I expected, even. But, Rook—” His tone sharpened, the protective older brother coming through. “One in the morning? At his villa? What were you thinking?”
Teia gave him a small nudge, her tone gentler. “Vi, let her explain. She’s fine. Don’t make a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene,” Viago shot back, though his raised voice said otherwise.
Rook held up her hands, trying to de-escalate. “We were baking. Baking, Vi. I wasn’t sneaking off to plot assassinations or rile up the Antaam!”
“That’s not the point,” Viago said, standing now, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “The point is you said you’d be home by eleven. If you’re going to see Lucanis, or anyone for that matter, you don’t just vanish into the night like some teenager with no sense of responsibility.”
“Vanish?” Rook repeated, indignant. “I didn’t vanish, Viago. I was with someone you know and trust.”
“I trust him to keep his blades sharp and his secrets buried,” Viago said. “That doesn’t mean I trust him not to make a bad decision with my little sister.”
Teia sighed, cutting in before the argument could spiral further. “She’s not a child, Vi. She’s more than capable of holding her own. And it’s not like she’s going to take any nonsense from Lucanis or anyone else.” She turned to Rook with a wry smile. “But maybe let your brother know next time if you’re running late? He gets… dramatic when he’s worried.”
Rook couldn’t help but grin at Teia’s dry humor, though she turned back to Viago with a more serious expression. “I’m sorry, Vi. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”
Viago exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. “Good. Because if you keep sneaking back at this hour, I might start sending messages to Lucanis about curfews.”
Rook’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
His lips quirked into a sly smirk. “Try me.”
Teia snorted a laugh, nudging Viago toward the door. “Alright, that’s enough. She’s apologized. Let her sleep, papa corvo.”
Viago huffed but relented, though not without a final glance at Rook. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? And next time, send a message through a crow.”
As the door closed behind them, Rook sank onto her bed, letting out a breath of relief. Her brother could be a pain, but at least he wasn’t trying to put Lucanis on some sort of watchlist.
But the lecture was worth it, she thought with a smile, the memory of Lucanis’s flour-dusted grin still fresh in her mind.
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I wanted to write something with a little bit of comic relief, sprinkled with a touch of protective older brother Viago (My headcanon for crow! Rook).
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Inspo for story: @trialsofthedas
Rook: *sneaking in through their window after a night at the villa*
Viago: *turning in their chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night?
Rook: I was out with Teia?
Teia: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?
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soaps-mohawk · 2 days ago
Text
Good Boy
Summary: He’s been such a good puppy. You want nothing more than to reward him on his special day. 
Pairing: Johnny x reader
Word Count: 5,527 words
Warnings: Pet play, mommy kink, puppy!Soap, sex toys, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking (it’s like one), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, lingerie, 
A/N: This is the first kinktober fic I wrote for this year, but I ultimately decided not to do a version for Kyle. It just fits Johnny perfectly and I’m honestly proud of it. Posted it on Patreon back in early October but decided to post it here for everyone to enjoy
MASTERLIST
You can hear the slight rattle of the kennel before you even have the front door closed. You take your time, kicking off your heels, placing your keys in the drawer, going to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Quiet, pathetic whining reaches your ears, the quiet scuff of movement on the plastic crate pan. He must have bunched his bed up again. 
Silly dog. 
You flip through the mail casually, tossing junk in the recycling and setting aside what you can only assume is a birthday card from your parents. The whining gets louder and more consistent. You let out a quiet sigh, tempted to open the card now and make him wait, but you'll be a good owner and give him the attention he's so desperate for. 
Poor thing has been locked up all day. 
Your feet pad quietly towards the living room, dress pants dragging quietly on the wood. You'll have to get these dry cleaned later. The whining gets louder as you approach, the metal exterior of the kennel rattling as he moves around in anticipation. 
You round the corner, pausing in the archway separating the living room from the hallway. Your dog, your sweet boy, is kneeling in his kennel, pressed up against the door in excitement. Tufts of hair stick through the top as he waits for you to scratch him through the bars like you always do. You can imagine his tail wagging happily, if he had one. 
“Did you miss me?” You ask, not moving towards the kennel. 
“Yes, mommy.” He whines, pressing harder against the cage, so hard his skin begins to push out between the gaps in the metal. 
You let out a sigh, finally approaching. “Stop it. You'll leave marks on your skin. You know mommy hates that.”
He lets out a whine, but does as he's told, moving away from the side of the cage, but he keeps his head pressed against the top. 
“Good boy.” You praise him, bending down to scratch his head through the bars. 
His hair is soft between your fingers. He'd had a mohawk when you picked him out and brought him home. You let him keep it, finding it endearing. It gives him character. Fits him perfectly. 
“Were you a good boy today?” You ask, pulling your hand away, bending down further, placing your hands on your knees. Your breasts push up, visible thanks to the few buttons you'd undone on your work shirt as you drove home from your after work errands. There's even a sliver of your bra showing. Blue, his favorite color. 
His eyes are trained on your breasts, licking his lips. His whole body is wiggling excitedly, his cock swinging between his legs, back and forth almost like a tail might. He's distracted, drool starting to drip out of his mouth just from the sight of your cleavage. 
To be fair, you had been denying him all week in preparation for today. 
You reach through the top of the cage again, fingers gripping his hair and tugging until his head is forced against the top of the kennel. “Mommy asked you a question.”
He lets out a pathetic whine, thick fingers curling between the thin metal bars at the top of the kennel. “Sorry mommy.” He pouts, giving you puppy eyes as he apologizes. You can't help but soften as those big blue eyes begin to glisten with tears. “I was the best boy today.” 
You hum, releasing his hair. You scratch his scalp as you eye the bed pushed against the back of the crate. “You messed your bed up.” His water and snack bowls are empty, shoved to the back of the crate with his bed. 
“Too excited.” He whines. 
You hum again, standing up straight. His eyes follow you, head shifting against the top of the cage. “Is my little pup excited about today?”
He nods, his fingers flexing on the metal bars. “Yes, mommy.”
“I got you a surprise.” You say, turning to the side table across from his kennel, digging the key from the drawer. “To celebrate.” 
“What is it?” He asks, getting excited again. 
“Well, that wouldn't make it much of a surprise, would it?” You tease, turning back to the kennel. 
He lets out an eager whine, leaning against the front of the cage. 
“Do you need to go potty?” You ask, bending down in front of the cage again. 
“Please mommy. Real bad.” He begs. 
You do feel bad. He has been locked up all day, and you had taken the time to run some errands after work. You've tried letting him have free reign of the house. It lasted a day. You'd come home from work to find him desperately humping your pillow, a pair of dirty panties he'd pulled from your laundry basket pressed against his nose. He'd made quite a mess, and so you had to go back to putting him in the crate every time you left. 
“Can you be a big boy and use the bathroom, or do we need to go outside?” You ask.
He whines as he thinks for a moment. “Bathroom, please.”
You hum, putting the key in the padlock that keeps him from opening the cage. It's more to keep him from escaping to romp around the house and make another mess. He wouldn't leave the house, though. He has no reason to. He can get out in the case of an emergency, but he's a good boy. He does as he's told...most of the time. 
You open the door to the crate, letting him crawl out. You turn the TV off as he takes a moment to stretch, joints creaking from being shut in the confined space. It's no small crate, the biggest you could find. Still, it doesn't leave him much room for moving around. 
You'll have to book him a massage this weekend. Get those muscles loosened up again. 
“Come on, pup.” You say, nudging him with your foot in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. “Let's go potty.”
He crawls on all fours towards the bathroom, slow going after being cooped up all day. You don't rush him, walking slowly behind him. The tags on his collar clink with every waddling shuffle on his hands and knees. 
He crawls into the bathroom and you turn on the light. He shifts up onto his knees, using the edge of the sink to pull himself onto his feet. You watch him as he stands, joints cracking again. He stretches, arms up over his head, the muscles in his back moving as he does. 
Sometimes you forget just how big he is. 
It's easy when he's crawling around on all fours to make him small in your mind. It's not until he's standing that you remember just how broad he is. 
5'11, roughly 200 pounds. That's what his profile said when you were searching for a new puppy. Your previous one had decided to leave, a mutual agreement. He had only been in training, and decided the lifestyle wasn't for him after all. 
You don't mind training pups. It can be quite fun, but you were ready for a more experienced puppy after him. 
That's when you came across Johnny. Soap, as his profile had said. A nickname given by a previous owner. You can only imagine what he'd done that earned him that nickname. 
His bio was thorough, and he'd even provided the reference of his previous owner. You were intrigued so you had messaged him, and agreed to meet. 
You liked him immediately. 
Friendly, excitable, already eager to please during your first conversation. You're sure he'd have gotten down on all fours and crawled across the coffee shop if you'd asked him to. 
His separation with his last owner had been rather traumatic and he needed someone to take control, someone who could handle him, his neediness, his clinginess, his intense libido and stamina. 
It had only taken three meetings and a test run for him to move into your house. 
He learned quickly, adapting to your rules very fast. It had been a pleasant surprise, finding such an eager pup in a Scottish bloke who looked more like he should be tossing logs at the Highland Games and not crawling around on your floor with a collar around his neck.
Your last pup had been more of a Greyhound, while Johnny, he’s more of a Rottweiler. Large and intimidating, but sweet and cuddly and so eager to please. 
Johnny lets out a sigh as he finally gets to relieve himself after a long day. You stand, leaning in the doorway, watching him as he shakes and then grabs toilet paper to wipe his tip. A proud smile tugs at your lips as he washes his hands thoroughly with soap and hot water. 
“Good boy.” You praise him as he drops back onto all fours. You run your fingers through his mohawk, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. It’s getting long, you’ll have to trim it soon. “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.” 
He crawls behind you into the kitchen, watching as you move to the bag on the counter. He crawls closer, sitting back on his knees, watching you eagerly. You rip the tags off the toy in your hands, before turning to face him. 
“I got you an extra special toy for your birthday.” You hold out the stuffed squirrel to him. 
His eyes widen as he stares at it, sitting back fully on his knees as he reaches for it. It’s soft and fluffy and squeaks when you squeeze the middle. You’d spent almost half an hour at the pet store debating which you should get. You’d spent so long there a worker had approached, asking if you needed help and what kind of dog the toy was for. 
Great Dane, you’d told her, your go-to answer when buying things for your pup. 
She’d recommended the squirrel, and you could hardly say no. It was perfect, and judging by the way Johnny is clutching it to his chest, he thinks so too. 
“I also got you a meat stick.” You say, pulling the long beef stick from the grocery bag. “So you can have something to chew on.” You say, pulling off the wrapper. 
“Thank you, mommy.” He says, taking the beef stick between his teeth. 
You watch him crawl to the corner of the dining room where his bed sits. He makes himself comfortable, stretched out on the soft, plush bed, his new squirrel tucked under his arm as he chews on his meat stick. 
You jump into making one of his favorite dinners while he’s occupied. While you’ve never been quite brave enough to try your hand at haggis, Johnny never complains about scotch pies. You turn on some quiet music while you work, eyes flickering to Johnny every so often. He’s content in the corner, making quick work of the meat stick. 
You take your time cooking, Johnny lazing with his squirrel in his arms. You stare at his cock as you mix ingredients, more thick than it is long as it drapes between his legs. There’s a heat growing between your own legs as you stare at him. He’s spread out on the bed, legs stretching straight out after being cooped up in the kennel all day. You make a quick note on the calendar. He needs a spa day this weekend. So will you after tonight. 
You jump as a hand grips your leg, weight settling against you. Johnny is leaning against your hip, big hand wrapped around your thigh. It’s slowly creeping higher, as if you wouldn’t notice it snaking up your inner thigh. 
You tsk at him, shifting out of his hold. “That’s not good boy behavior.” 
He lets out a whine, trying to move closer to you. “Sorry mommy. Need you bad.” 
“You need your strength, baby boy. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” You run your hand over his head. You do leave him plenty of snacks to tide him over on days you have to go into the office. It’s always a big dinner night on those days to make up for his lack of lunch. 
He lets out a disappointed whine but he knows your right. He’s always a good boy, always so eager to please you and behave. He crawls back to his bed, cock swinging between his legs. Your teeth sink into your lip as you watch him go, rubbing your thighs together as you shift on your feet. It’s going to be a long evening for you too. 
You plate up dinner for him, gently easing him back into his human brain for the moment as you remove his collar. Usually you make him eat on the floor out of his bowl, but this is a special occasion. You grab the card from the counter as you carry the plates to the table. 
“Smells good.” He says, his voice lower and rougher than it is when he’s in his puppy mindset. His accent is thicker too, almost like he becomes an entirely new person. Well...he does. The whiny, needy puppy is gone, hidden well beneath the surface of a normal human man. 
“My parents sent a card.” You say, sliding it across the table to him as you take a seat. 
“That was nice of them.” He says, picking it up and opening it. 
He reads it to you, full of well wishes and congratulations. Your parents have met him a few times, though they only know him as your boyfriend. They’ll never know about the other side of your relationship, the side where your giant Scottish boyfriend crawls around on all fours wearing a collar and occasionally a butt plug with a silicone tail attached. 
To your parents he’s just a normal man. To you, he’s your good little puppy. 
The two of you chat as you eat, talking about work and your coworkers and the annoying woman at the shop that was arguing with the cashier. It’s all so domestic, all so...normal. 
You almost prefer him on the floor on his knees begging for scraps. 
He sneaks up behind you while you’re doing dishes, his arms wrapping around you. You can feel the bulge of his quickly hardening cock against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach towards your breasts. 
“This isn’t good boy behavior.” You say, but you don’t stop him as his hands cup your breasts through your shirt. 
You’ve fucked a few times like this, both of you in your normal mindsets. You let him be more dominant, let him get that energy out before he submits to you again. He’s a good fuck, knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how to work you up. 
“You’re going to ruin your surprise.” You say, yet you can’t stop yourself from pushing back against him as his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt. The skimpy bra you’re wearing doesn’t offer much coverage or protection from his fingers. 
“Sorry mommy.” He growls in your ear, grinding against your ass. 
The deep growl in his voice has a shiver running down your spine. You should stop this before it gets much further, but part of you is tempted to let him have this moment, let him celebrate his birthday in both mindsets. 
“Easy, puppy boy.” You say, pushing his hands away from your breasts. You turn around, dragging a wet finger over his lips. “Be a good boy and behave yourself and you can have your surprise after I’m done.” 
The change happens instantly, his eyes lighting up as he shifts back into his puppy mindset. He drops to his knees in front of you, eye to eye with your pussy but he behaves himself, holding still as you move to grab his collar. You stare down at the fabric one with the plastic clip, the one he wears while you’re gone in case he needs to get out of it fast. You want his leather one tonight. 
You clip the collar around his neck for now before going back to the dishes. He crawls back to his bed, laying himself down on his stomach. You watch him carefully out of the corner of your eye to make sure he’s not rutting against the bed like a bad dog. 
Dishes go by quickly as you set them in the drying rack, catching movement out of the corner of your eye. Unsurprisingly Johnny is in the corner, humping his bed, trying to relieve some of the ache that probably has his cock pulsing. You let out a sigh before approaching, bringing your hand down against his ass, the perky cheek bouncing. He lets out a yowl, his hips bucking into the bed. 
“You’re being a bad boy.” You say as he turns around, cock weeping with precum. There’s a damp spot on the fabric of his bed, but you know he hasn’t cum. Not yet. He knows better. 
“Sorry Mommy.” He pouts, but he can’t cute his way out of this one. 
You slip your fingers under the front of his collar, tugging him forward gently. “Bad boys get punished.” 
He lets out a whine, trying to give you big puppy eyes but they don’t work. You’ve long grown immune to that stare. 
“Come on.” You say, moving to the drawer to pull out a leash. He crawls towards you, sitting back on his knees to allow you to clip the leash onto his collar. He is a good boy, he just can’t control himself sometimes. 
Not with his insane libido. 
You walk him to the stairs, taking them slow as you lead him up to the second floor. He picks up his pace on the carpet, following you eagerly into the bedroom. He dutifully sits on his knees next to the bed, watching you as you unclip his collar. You pull the leather one from the drawer, the one you made specially for him, the one with his name stamped on the side. 
Johnny. 
He tilts his head back as you put it on him, slipping two fingers under to make sure it’s not too tight. You turn back to the drawer, pulling out the box. He shifts on his knees, already knowing what’s coming. 
“Bend over.” You say, pulling out the lube. He shifts himself onto the bed immediately, bending himself over the side. You squirt some lube over his ass, letting it run down over his hole. “Get yourself ready.” 
“Yes mommy.” He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches a hand back, gathering lube on his finger before pressing it into his hole. He groans, pushing his face against the bed as he works his finger in, opening himself up. You watch him fuck himself with his finger, adding a second one to open himself up. The plug isn’t huge, but you want him to be prepared. 
You spread lube on the plug before you pat his ass gently and he pulls his fingers from his hole. You squirt more lube over his hole before you press the tip of the plug against his ass. He clenches as you begin to push it in, a whiny moan leaving his lips. He’s staining the comforter with precum, but that’s what washing machines are for. 
It won’t be the only stain on the bed by the time you’re done with him. 
You slide the plug into place, the silicone tail perky in the air. He wiggles his hips, the tail wagging back and forth. 
You hum, pleased by the sight. “My cute little puppy.” You praise him before grabbing the fluffy ears from the box. You’ve always preferred them over the more traditional mask. You want to see his cute face as you make him beg to cum. 
He slides off the edge of the bed, sitting back on his knees. A breathy moan leaves his lips as the plug shifts inside him, the tail moving as he clenches around it. His cock is bright red and hard, and you’re sure you could see it pulsing with need if you looked close enough. You put the ears on him, stepping back to stare at him. 
What a beautiful sight he makes. 
“You were a bad boy.” You say as you close the box, moving it off the bed. “Humping your bed like a needy little pup.” 
“Am a needy pup.” He whines, hips bucking the air in desperation. 
“Naughty pups deserve punishment.” You ignore his words, moving to stand in front of him at the end of the bed. “You only get to watch.” 
His eyes widen as you begin to unbutton your shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. Your nipples pebble in the cool air as you untuck your shirt, undoing the last buttons before slipping it off your shoulders. You toss it on the floor before undoing your pants, sliding them down your legs. He lets out a whine as your lacy panties are revealed, blue just like your bra. He shifts on his knees again as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs. 
The lace is damp from your arousal, darkening the fabric. He licks his lips as you rub your damp slit over the lace. He loves lace, the sight of it enough to make his cock leak. He can cum untouched like a needy teenager if you get him worked up enough. You're tempted to do it, make him cum all over himself before he gets to touch you. 
That feels like too much of a reward. 
“You don't cum until mommy does.” You command, moving the lace to the side to drag a finger through your slit. 
He licks his lips, watching your shiny juices smear all over your skin as you rub your hand over your pussy. He’s enraptured, forgetting himself as he stares at your fingers and the way you spread yourself open for him to see. You’re doing it on purpose, goading him and distracting him to make him forget himself. All the more sweet torture for him. 
You stop your hand, covering your pussy from his sight. “I gave you an order.” You say, your voice stern. 
“Yes, mommy.” He stutters out, eyes still glued between your legs. “Don’t cum until ye do.” 
“Good boy.” You praise him, opening your legs wider. 
You circle your clit with a finger as you stare at him, those big blue eyes locked in on your hand between your legs. He’s picturing himself doing it, his fingers dragging through your folds, smearing your slick everywhere. You can tell by the way his fingers twitch where they rest on his thighs. He wants to taste you so badly he might start drooling soon. 
You won’t let him have it yet, sliding your hand down to press a finger into your pussy. You moan softly as you work your finger in, knowing you’ll need to prepare yourself regardless to take his thick cock. You can take it without preparation, but he’s far too eager to be gentle tonight, to take his time. 
You slip a second finger into your pussy, your head falling back as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Johnny shifts on his knees, hands curling into fists where they rest on his thighs. The wet sound fills the air as you thrust your fingers in and out, toes curling. You’ve been waiting for this as much as he has, your pussy throbbing for the last hour now. Still you pull your fingers from your pussy before you can cum, resting them against your inner thigh, spreading juices on your skin. Johnny is drooling now, his chin wet as his mouth hangs open just slightly. You can’t help but chuckle as you stare at him. 
Needy thing. 
You push yourself back up, staring at his cock for a moment. It looks painful, the nice side of you wanting to take pity on him, have mercy. This night is about him after all. It is his birthday. 
“Come here and make me cum.” You say, holding the lace out of the way. 
He doesn't hesitate as he crawls forward, immediately pressing his face against your folds. His tongue darts out, licking at your damp lips like the eager pup he is. He flicks his tongue over your clit, your stomach clenching at the warm sensation. He holds your gaze as he licks and sucks at your clit, slurping sloppily at the sensitive numb. Your lips are parted as you pant and moan, your hand lifting to grip his mohawk, pressing him harder against your pussy. He doesn’t complain, slick wetting his skin as he suckles at your clit, the sensations almost too much. 
“Gonna cum...” You moan. “Make mommy cum!”
He sucks harder at your clit, flicking it with his tongue over and over. You cum quickly, thighs squeezing around his head. Your hips grind against his face, your hand tightening in his mohawk, holding him in place. 
“Fuck....” You moan, his tongue still working at your clit, pushing you towards overstimulation. 
You have to tug him away from your pussy, your body shaking from the near overstimulation. His face is shiny, his mouth still parted as he stares up at you. You press your fingers against his tongue, his lips closing around them, licking the remnants of your juices off them. 
“Stand up.” You say, pulling your fingers free. 
He does as he’s told, standing over you. His cock is right in front of you, hard and throbbing. You spit on your hand before you wrap your fingers around him, smearing your spit all over his length. He groans, his hips thrusting as you begin to move your hand, jerking him off. 
“Gonna cum for mommy?” You ask, precum dripping around his foreskin. 
“Gonnae cum.” He moans, hips thrusting in time with your hand. “Don’t stop, please!” 
You don’t have any plans to, picking up the pace of your hand as you stare up at him. His cum is hot as it splatters against your chest, painting your skin as he moans low and deep. You pump him through his orgasm, milking every last drop out of him. He’s nowhere near done for the night, cock still hard in your hand. 
You release him, leaning back on the bed again. “You made quite the mess, pup. Clean it up.” 
He drops to his knees in front of you, leaning forward over you. His arms wrap around you as he begins to lick his cum from your skin. His tongue is warm as it trails over your skin, lapping at the streaks of cum across your chest, making sure to get every last drop of it. He follows the trail of it down to your stomach, stopping to suck at one of your nipples through the lace. You let him do it, moaning softly at the sensation. He trails his lips down your body to your thighs, licking up his cum as he goes. 
He tries to push your thighs apart but you tsk at him, nudging him gently with your foot. “I’ve got something better for you.” You sit up straight on the edge of the bed, putting you nearly face to face with him. You grip him by the collar, pulling him up so you can stare into his eyes, your breath mixing with his. “I want you to breed me.” 
“What?” He breathes, the puppy brain slipping just for a moment. 
He goes still, his eyes widening. He searches your face for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation or even a sign of mirth as you tell him you’re joking. You’re not. You rarely let him cum inside you, usually making him finish on your stomach before making him clean you up. He likes it too much, stuffing you full of his cum. You usually save it for special occasions like this one. 
You pull away as you shift on the bed, kneeling on the edge before bending down, arching your back to push your ass into his face. “You heard me. Be a good boy and breed me.” 
“Screaming Jesus.” He curses before rising to his feet, his hand falling to your hip. 
He slips his cock under your panties, thrusting it through the lace and your damp folds for a moment. You moan softly as his head catches on your clit, your hips pushing back against him. You've been thinking about this all day. It had been a rough day at work as your mind was only filled with thoughts of his cock inside of you. The temptation to slip into the bathroom and rub one out had been strong, but you didn't want to make things harder for you or him. 
You arch your back more as he pulls his cock back, pressing his tip against your hole. The comforter bunches as your hands sink into the fabric, holding on for dear life as his thick cock presses into you. You moan as he stretches you, rocking his hips to sink deeper and deeper. The stretch is always delicious, his cock like a bonus reward for choosing him as your puppy. Not just that, he knows how to use it. 
He folds himself over your back as soon as he’s seated inside you, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. His hands come to rest by your head, pushing himself deeper inside of you. 
“Fuck...that’s it puppy.” You moan, squeezing around him as he continues to rut into you like an eager pup. 
He is an eager pup. 
Your hands grip his wrists for support as his cock drags against that spot inside of you with every movement of his hips. He picks up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You’re the one almost drooling now as he rocks your body with his thrusts. He shifts, his knees coming to rest beside yours on the bed, pushing himself deeper into you. 
“God, fucking yes!” You moan, squeezing around his cock. 
He’s close, grunting in your ear as he ruts against you. You can picture his tail flopping back and forth, wagging excitedly as he finally fucks you after weeks of denying him your pussy. 
“Mommy. Mommy.” He moans desperately. “Please, can I cum? Please let me cum.” 
“Cum for me puppy.” You moan as his thrusts become sloppy and desperate. “Be a good boy and cum in me.” 
His cum is warm as it spurts into you, his hips jerking before stilling as he spills into you with a whine. His cock is twitching inside of you, spilling the last of his cum before he pulls out. He moves off of your back, gripping your waist before he flips you over onto your back. You can’t find it in you to reprimand him for manhandling you, one of the rare moments he’ll take control while still in his puppy brain. 
“Gonnae breed ye mommy.” He grunts, slotting his body between your thighs. You haven’t cum yet and he knows that. “Gonnae fill ye right up till ye burst.” 
Fuck. 
You can’t do anything but moan as he shoves your panties to the side again, thrusting right into you before very much of his cum slips out of you. He fucks it back into you, his pace fast and hard. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down against you. You can see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth from the force of his thrusts, your legs shaking as you grip his collar. 
“Such a good boy.” You moan, thighs squeezing around his hips. “Such a good puppy for mommy.” 
“‘M yer good boy.” He moans, pressing his face into your neck. “Good puppy for mommy.” 
“Gonna make me cum?” You whine, getting closer and closer to the edge with every slap of his hips against your clit. He’s close again, whining as you squeeze around him. 
“Please,” He whines, his pace stuttering. “Please cum mommy.” 
You can hardly deny him as your back arches, body shaking as you cum around him. Your limbs coil around him like a snake, holding him in you as your fluttering walls force another orgasm from him. He spills into you again, spurting more cum into your pussy. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to pet his damp mohawk. He’s shaking over you, tail vibrating in the air. The night is far from over, his cock already growing hard inside of you again. 
You’re going to call in the morning and book those spa days. 
You continue to pet his hair as he grinds against you, humping you like a needy puppy. You press your face against the side of his, lips brushing his ear as you pant against his sweaty skin. 
“Good boy.” 
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narcissisticmf · 3 days ago
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get up | bucky barnes x fem!reader
description: y/n is not a morning person and bucky tries everything in his power to ease her into the start of the day.
trigger warnings: fluff, some seductive behavior, domestic!bucky, etc. read at your own risk.
word count: <1k
The sun slipped its way through the closed curtains, shining brightly into the room. Your body was entangled within the sheets and thick blankets among your queen sized bed. You grumbled softly as the morning sun hit your eyes, causing you to slowly shield your face behind the thick blanket, no desire to get up yet.
You felt Bucky stir beside you, your back facing him. He must've been waking up. You felt his right arm slip protectively around your stomach, making you to groan softly.
You loved Bucky's affection, but receiving it early in the morning was something you were trying to get yourself used to. You hated physical affection in the morning and, of course, Bucky knew this but that didn't stop him.
"Mornin', sweetheart," Bucky mumbled into your ear with resonance. You gently moaned, clearly not ready to get up yet.
"You want some tea?" he asked, nibbling gently on your earlobe. You stayed quiet, but turned over to face him. You were so tired, and something unusual made you nestle closer to hin that morning. Your face disappeared into his chest and beneath the covers as his arms engulfed you tightly.
"Look at you.." Bucky whispered with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You released a soft huff and breathed in his scent. "What's got you so soft this morning, hm?"
"Shh," you whispered with a soft whine, no desire to speak yet.
To this, Bucky laughed. He pressed a warm kiss to your temple.
After a few moments of stillness that enveloped the room, Bucky dipped his chin down and pressed a lingering kiss to the apple of your cheek. "Cmon, sweetheart," he whispered as softly as possible. "Time to get up."
"Nooo," you dragged out softly.
"Yesss," he mimicked your tone with a smile.
"Bucky," you huffed and lifted your chin to look up at him. Your hair was matted against your forehead, your eyes glassed over the iridescent glimmer of them, and your lips were dry, slightly chapped.
"Y/N," Bucky smiled, sat up while leaning on his elbow, and cupped your face with his hands. You shivered at the cold touch of his metal arm, but relished in the light thrill.
"There's my girl," he grinned and leaned down to press a kiss to your nose. "Good morning."
"Morning," you couldn't fight your smile as Bucky leaned down to pepper kisses across your jawline and neck. You rested your head against the pillows and fluttered your eyes closed, admiring the feel of his warm lips against your cold skin.
He halted at your collarbone and seemed to question with his eyes if he should keep going. When you didn't protest, he sucked the skin over your bone.
Your body shuttered, leaving gooseflesh across your exposed arms.
"I felt that," Bucky smirked.
"Shut up," you laughed and nudged him off you.
He didn't fight you and laughed, shuffling off the bed. He turned to look down at you, still beneath the covers.
"How'd I get so lucky, hm?" Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at you with such an intense gaze, you felt your face go hot.
"Bucky," you whined softly and covered your face with the blankets.
"No, no, please.. don't cover that beautiful face," Bucky implored pathetically, leaning against the mattress to tug the sheets away.
You giggled when he clearly won the tug-o-war battle.
"There she is," Bucky grinned. "Come on, I'll make us breakfast."
This time, you happily obliged.
.
a/n: hi cuties!! i know ive been gone for a hot minute, i've just been swamped with my classes. i'm taking 4 lit classes this semester 🙄 someone tell me why i thought that was a good idea. ANYWAY ,, i hope yall liked this one! i've been seeing sm bucky content bc of thunderbults (can't wait to see that btw) so i thought to write a cute little fic this morning with him. and seeing sebastian talk shit on donald trump to the press is so sexy to me 🤭 okok i'll stop fangirling!! love yall! have a nice thanksgiving to my u.s. friends who celebrate! — angelina.
278 notes · View notes
asharasasylum · 2 days ago
Text
But I'm a Creep
♡  Kidnapper! Choso x reader
author's note: I'm an idiot and accidentally deleted this so now I'm having to repost it. warnings: non con. dub con. kidnapping. tied up reader. sub choso. smut. gagged reader. 18+ MDNI
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You whined as he wrapped his mouth around your abused nipple, tears spilling from your eyes at the painful sensation. It had been pleasurable at first, about an hour ago when you awoke to him fondling you but now your nipples were sore and tired from the constant sucking and licking being inflicted on you from your kidnapper. 
Kidnapper. The man that had abducted you. Someone that you barely really knew except from passing encounters at work. 
Choso Kamo was the last person you had expected this from. 
So he was a bit strange according to your co-workers. And there were a few rumours that you had heard about him through mutual friends. But you chalked it all up to him just being a little different, a bit of an introvert compared to yourself. 
From the moment he was hired five months ago, Choso had been a hard nut to crack. He barely talked, only offering you a small head nod as he strolled into the store. He preferred to keep himself to the stock room rather than help out front. It wasn’t till you had seen some girls from campus clearly staring and giggling at him a few weeks into the job, that you actually had your first proper interaction with him. 
The girls were being cruel, you could see in the way they stuck up their noses and eyed him out of the corner of their eyes. All while Choso was simply trying to fix one of the display stands. 
He clearly noticed them, fingers trembling as he fiddled with the stack of DVDs in his hand. But you could tell he was just trying to ignore them, hoping they’d possibly get bored and walk away. 
You couldn’t just ignore them, not when your blood boiled at the mere sight of what they were doing. Before you even realised it, you were standing in front of them, blocking their vision of Choso with a tight smile spread across your face. 
“Can I help you?” You asked, eyes flickering between each of the girls. 
They grew quiet, amusement dropping from their faces as they looked between each other. 
“Well if you couldn’t find everything today, I do apologise. But we are closing for the day.” You motioned to the door with a pointed glare. 
They all scrambled out of the store, muttering things under their breath that you didn’t care to hear before you turned to Choso. 
You crouched down to where he was still fumbling with the DVDs, noticing the tinge of pink that covered the tops of his ears. 
“You okay?” You asked, reaching out to place your hand on top of his. 
He snatched his hand away, finally turning to you with a flushed face. 
“Sorry.” You smiled at him, taking your hand back. 
“I-I’m fine,” he nervously laughed, nodding his head. 
“Did you know them?” 
“Uh-them?” He pointed to where the girls had been standing and you nodded. “Um-no. I-I guess maybe in passing.” He swallowed, eyes meeting yours for a second before flickering away.
“They’re dicks,” you told him, hoping to lighten the mood. “Best to just ignore them.” 
“Y-yeah,” he agreed, before returning to what he had previously been doing. 
You hadn’t really expected a change in your relationship after that but Choso seemed to warm to you. But the next day, he actually spoke your name, greeting you with a small smile before he went into the back. 
You and Choso had small interactions after that, but nothing that would make you think he would do this. 
The guy could barely speak two words to you last week. His eyes barely ever directly looked into yours and he nervously stuttered every time you thanked him over a simple task. The only conversations you had consisted of two words from him so to think he could do this? That he had harboured some sort of crush on you. 
The possibility had never crossed your mind. It only seemed reality as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, licking at the subtle skin he had spent time marking up. 
It was only hours ago he had offered you a lift home from work and now you had found yourself with your wrists tied to his bed, completely naked underneath him. 
“Please,” he whimpered, sucking at the skin of your neck. “I need you so bad.” 
You barely registered what he was saying, too focused on the way his fingers were sliding over your soaked folds. He clearly knew what he was doing, making you a wet fucked out mess before you’d even been able to cum. It had you wondering if he had been with a girl before, if the way he acted in the store with you had all just been some sort of act. 
The thought was pushed away as soon as he whimpered again, pressing his wet cheeks into your neck. “I need you to need me,” he said, almost on the verge of sobbing. “Y/N.” 
The mere mention of your name had you peeling your eyes open, only to find yourself fighting off shutting them again when his fingers pressed into your clit. You hissed at the sensation, trying to bite down the noises that were stirring in the back of your throat. But it was near impossible when his fingers prodded at your entrance, threatening to force them into your walls. 
You tried to protest against him but your screams were muffled through the cloth placed between your lips and with your hands tied there was nothing you could do. 
Your toes curled when he forced two fingers into his entrance and even though you cried against the cloth, you knew he could feel your walls sucking him in. Especially when you felt him smile against your skin, lifting his head so he could look at you. 
“You like this,” he questioned, curling his fingers inside of you, eager for a reaction. “Got to tell me, baby.” 
The moan was lost in your throat and even though your pussy was leaking all over him, the confirmation clearly wasn’t enough. 
It was only when another noise of you was strangled between the cloth did he poke at it, knitting his brows together as he asked, “Need me to take this out for you?” 
You nodded frantically, practically begging him. 
“You can’t scream.” He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly questioning whether it was a good idea or not. “Sukuna said I shouldn’t.” 
You knew that name, his older brother, you remembered. He was the one that had got Choso a job in the first place. You hadn’t met him, he had left the store long before you started but to think he knew you were in here and he didn’t care. It was sickening. 
“It’ll be better for you if you don’t try and scream. I don’t know what he’ll make me do to you if you do.” There was an uneasiness to his tone as if he was scared at the possibility and you hated the idea that Choso could do something worse to you. “Do you understand?” 
You gave him a small nod, hoping that would be enough for him. 
Thankfully it was, feeling his fingers pull at the cloth he had jammed in your mouth until it was all the way out. 
He watched you cautiously as he did so, waiting with his hand against your cheek in case you did try to scream. You didn’t though and you weren’t sure who it took more by surprise, you or the man hovering above you. 
“You okay?” 
It felt genuine the way he asked you, wide wet eyes looking down at you with some sort of concern. You couldn’t understand it and you weren’t sure if you really wanted to.
You gave him the faintest of nods, too fearful not to answer him with the way he stared at you, like he was desperate for an answer. 
It was only when his fingers delved deeper into you, did you realise what you unknowingly agreed to. You couldn’t help but moan as he slipped a third finger in, clawing at the restraints that bound your hands together. With each drag of his fingers against your spongy walls you felt the lines of consent begin to blur. 
He had brought you here against your own will, you reminded yourself. But had there been something that you did that eluded him to the idea that you wanted to be here? That this was right?
Choso wasn’t like the other guys at work, the horn dogs that drooled over anything with two legs and a hole they could slip it into. You could see it in the way he watched you now, his gaze darkening, the brown iris barely visible with how badly his eyes dilated. His lips parted and all that seemed to escape him were shallow breaths, as if he was enjoying this more than you. Like he was simply getting off on seeing you overcome with pleasure. 
Your body trembled at the idea of it, terrified and almost… excited? You couldn’t deny how close you were teetering towards your oncoming orgasm. Yet you were still fearful of the man on top of you, not entirely sure what he could be gaining out of this. 
“You want this,” he hummed, bringing his lips to rest against yours. “Don’t you?” 
You couldn’t deny him, not with how his eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill against your skin. So you agreed once more, lips moving against his as you squeaked out a small, “Yes.” 
He grinned at that, nudging his nose against yours as he connected your lips into a needy kiss. 
You whined into it, feeling his thumb circle your sensitive clit. You clenched around him instinctively, feeling your hips buck into him for more in which he was eager to give you. He didn’t waste any time, pressing his thumb into you while his fingers thrusted and curled into you, nudging against a sweet spot that had you moaning into his mouth. 
You were overly glad for his lips pressed to yours when you came, muffling the screams of pleasure that tore through your throat. Your thighs clamped around him, trying to push him away rather than keep him in. But Choso was an immovable object and you knew you just needed to come to terms with that. 
“Choso,” you yelped, squirming underneath him. 
His eyes widened at that, worried that you might begin to scream for release. 
You didn’t though but instead, breathlessly pleaded with him to stop. “Please, no more.” 
“I’m sorry,” he hushed you, pressing feather light kisses to your face as he distracted you from pulling his fingers from your walls. “You’re okay.” 
You weren’t entirely in agreement with that, feeling your walls still flutter with the after effects of the long awaited orgasm. But you were in no state to fight him on the matter either.
“You’re okay, right?” He lifted his face to look over you with that sad puppy look.
“I’m okay,” you told him, between a shaky breath. 
He seemed happy with your response, bringing his lips against yours once again. This kiss was sticky and desperate, Choso’s tongue sinking into your mouth as he explored it. He whined when you didn’t reciprocate, moving his tongue so deep into your mouth that you had to push it away with your own, or you’d choke on it. 
It had him smiling, your tongue finally moving against his even if it was in an attempt to fight back. He didn’t seem to care, or maybe he just didn’t realise, living in some sort of delusion that this was completely consensual, that this was what you wanted. 
He was eager for your confirmation, you finally realised. Desperate for it. 
“Choso,” you whispered, breaking free from the kiss as you twisted your head away. “Choso, can you-” You stopped yourself, turning to his face with a small pout. 
“Anything,” he responded, without even hearing the full question. 
“My hands.” You wiggled them underneath you, pressing your lips together as you jutted out your bottom lip. “They hurt.” You swallowed and whined, “Please.” 
He nodded, hands reaching over you to fumble with your restraints that had you tied to his bed. It only took a few seconds before your wrists were freed and you could pull your hands back to your side. It also wasn’t long before you began to use your new found freedom to slip away, only to be caught instantly with a hand wrapped around your wrist. 
You winced as Choso applied pressure to the fresh bruises, and yanked you back underneath him. 
“Try that again and I’ll have to tie you up again,” he warned, jaw clenching as he glared down at you. He quickly dropped his glare, eyes softening at you as he tried to mask his anger. But it was still there, you could see it in his rigid form that kneeled over yours. “I don’t want to hurt you. You're the last person I want to hurt, Y/N.” 
A chill ran over you as he ran a finger over your cheek, sliding it down your neck as his eyes followed the movement. He stopped once he reached your breast, swallowing at the sight of the abused flesh and licking his lips. 
“Please, don’t do that again.” His eyes flew back up to yours, his jaw tightening as he waited for your response. 
“I won’t do it again,” you told him, feeling unnerved by the way he stared at you. “I promise.” 
Relief seemed to wash over him, his body relaxing once again as his eyes fell downwards. “Good, good.” He licked his lips, cheeks darkening to red at the sight of something. 
You followed his gaze, widening at the sight of him in his boxers. The material clung to him, his bulge and the wet patch practically staring at you. You were so stuck on the sight of him, you barely noticed his hand dragging yours towards him, not until he was slipping it inside the article of clothing with a sigh. 
It was a sticky mess inside, cum coating your fingers before your hand found his cock. You weren’t really thinking, gripping it slightly in your hand as if you were entranced by it. You moved your hand over it, dragging it up and letting your fingers slide over the tip. It was only when he gasped at the touch, did you snap back to reality, snatching your hand back. 
You held it in front of you, slightly amazed at the sight of the cum that coated your fingers. Had he been touching himself this whole time? It wasn’t possible, both hands had been at you the whole time. But surely– 
“I know I shouldn’t have,” he said, eyes flickering towards your gaze. “Not before you anyway but-” His body folded over yours again, till you could feel his leaking cock touching your leg, the piece of clothing over it doing nothing to hide it. “-you don’t get how you make me feel. It just happened.” 
You swallowed at that, watching him as he leaned further into you. You knew what was going to happen and even though you knew some part of you wanted to fight against it, there was another sicker part that thought it’d be easier to succumb to it instead. That part had you widening your legs, making more space for him as he pressed his body against yours. 
“I’ll make you feel so good, I swear,” he whispered, rutting his hips against yours. “I promise.” You bit back a moan as he repeated his actions, feeling his bulge rub against your overly sensitive clit. “Make you feel good.”
“Okay,” you whispered. 
He stopped, eyes meeting yours again as if he didn’t quite hear you. 
You weren’t even sure you could quite hear what you were saying either, the words didn’t even feel like your own as they fell from your tongue. “Make me feel good then.” 
You had no time to act when Choso descended upon you, slipping his boxers down all while he kissed you. It was your turn to whine when you felt his cock slide against your folds, hissing into him as it ran over your clit. He seemed so content in just doing this, rubbing his cock between your folds as he mixed your juices with his. You were sure if you didn’t say anything he’d cum like this and be done with it, or feel the need to still take you again. 
“Choso,” you called, sliding your hand between your bodies. You found his cock, hard and wanting, finally grabbing his attention. “Inside me.” His eyes snapped towards yours. “I want it inside me.” 
His eyes widened as he withdrew from your lips, swallowing nervously as he peeled himself off of you slightly. 
“Choso?” You knitted your brows together, looking up at his flushed face. 
“I-uh-” he shifted, blinking as he looked down again. 
“It’s okay.” You comforted him, sliding his cock against yourself until you lined his tip up with your entrance. “Just push it in.” You guided him, bringing your hips up a bit so he partially slid in. “Like this.” 
Choso followed, pushing his hips into yours, groaning as he filled you to the hilt. Once he was all the way in, there was no stopping him. He was suddenly hooked on the feeling of being inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth continuously. He was so lost in it, sinking his face into your neck with such a deep whimper that you weren’t entirely sure you’d be able to break him from it. 
All you could do was take it and take it you did. 
You matched his moans with your own, wrapping your legs around him as he fucked you into the mattress. There was no denying it, everything felt right with Choso inside of you. You felt full to the brim. Your walls snugly wrapped around him, squeezing him, begging for more. 
“Feels so good,” he whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it. “I want to go deeper. Deeper.” 
You weren’t completely sure what he was talking about until his hands brought your legs up, folding them between your bodies. 
Oh deeper.
You swore you could feel him in your stomach at the angle, and the sensation had you mewling out his name. 
You weren’t at all surprised at how fast both of you were brought to the edge. You could feel your brain turning into mush at how well his cock was rutting itself in and out of you and you could feel Choso tightening his grip onto you, as his pace began to pick up. 
“So good.” He repeated the phrase over and over again, the sound of his moans vibrating through you as he did so. So good. Until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you felt yourself gushing all over him, your orgasm washing over you. So good. Until he was spilling inside of you, gasping at the feel of your walls milking him for all he had to offer. 
You were spent after that, the aftershocks still coursing through your body as he slowed himself to a stop. You weren’t even surprised when he didn’t pull himself out of you, collapsing on top of you and keeping himself buried inside you instead. He seemed satisfied— sedated as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck with a deep sigh. 
He seemed so content, body fully relaxed on top of yours that you didn’t want to break him away from it. But as you came back to the reality of your situation, you found yourself needing to say something, only too scared to break the silence you both rested in. 
Luckily for you, it wasn’t your words that broke the silence but a sudden knocking on Choso’s bedroom door, followed by a voice you could only imagine was Choso’s older brother. 
“Kid is out for another hour before you both need to shut up.” 
Choso didn’t seem to react, only sighing as he kissed your subtle skin. 
You parted your lips to speak, but you stopped yourself realising it might be better not to know. Not to understand. 
Instead you closed your eyes, sinking into his touch as he began to lick at the column of your neck and trace his fingers into your sides. You didn’t know what was going to happen after this but for a moment you were too tired to care. You just assumed you’d have to let him decide. 
198 notes · View notes
jayden-writes · 3 days ago
Text
safe
pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader
wordcount: ~3k
genre: hurt/comfort, angst, whump
cw: kidnapping, strangulation, threats, violence, murder
summary: Did it truly matter that the hands cradling your face so very gently were bloody?
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic
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A piece of fabric pressing over your mouth and nose was all it took to plunge your world into darkness, a pungent smell being the last thing you could process. You’d been on your way back from a short trip, unsuspecting, unaware of who was lurking in the shadows. How much time had passed, you couldn’t possibly tell, but as you finally came to, all you could feel was a dull pain engulfing your entire body. Upon trying to check for any injuries, you realized your wrists were tied, bindings digging tightly into your skin. Slowly, your other senses started to return to you, and you registered that you were sitting, something around your chest keeping you upright.
Forcing your eyelids open, you blinked a few times, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. It was dark, the small, sparse room only dimly lit. If you had to guess, you'd say it was some sort of basement; the floor was unfinished, and the brick wall looked rough. “Mh-” you tried to speak, but all that you managed to get out was a muffled, quiet sound. You’ve been gagged. A heavy weight settled deep in your stomach. The cloth forced between your teeth tasted musty, already damp with your saliva. Looking down with wide eyes, you took in the multiple rows of rope wrapped around your upper body, restricting your breathing, arms bound behind you at an awkward, painful angle that made your shoulders ache. The edge of the metal chair you were sitting on cut into your thighs.
When you wiggled around to free yourself, or at least loosen the restraints, the legs scraped on the crude floor, making your ears hurt. But no matter how hard you fought, it was futile. Holding back tears, you let your head hang, closing your eyes. Deliberately keeping your inhales slow and steady, you tried to think of a solution despite your racing thoughts. Panicking wouldn’t save you, you knew that. Clearly, you would be unable to free yourself without outside assistance. And with your mouth gagged, you weren’t even able to invoke one of your pacts to call them for help. So, what should you do? What could you do?
Before you had any more time to reflect on your circumstances, you heard heavy footsteps above you, drawing your attention. Seconds later, a door was opened, the light momentarily blinding you, then it was cut off again. In the remaining light bleeding through the crack of the door, you saw feet, legs and after that, slowly, the rest of someone unknown to you entered your field of vision - though it was obvious that it was a demon. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, the pale blue piercing through you. A wolfish grin curled around her lips as she stepped closer. You wanted to shrink back, huddle into the furthest corner of the room. But you couldn’t.
“Ah, finally awake, are we? I bet you must have a lot of questions.” Her voice was casual, as if she was simply out for a stroll while she towered over you. “Well, too bad! You see, as much as I’d like to have what would undoubtedly be a very productive conversation with you, I know you’d just call upon one of those so-called Lords that grovel at your feet.”
“Mph…! Mn…!” you tried again, only earning an amused chuckle from her.
“I’m not particularly keen on having one of those brothers that practically fawn over you come to your rescue. Pathetic, really. Demons of their status acting like that around a human. They're supposed to be leaders, to be an example to us lowly demons. Ha, as if! Traitors, all of them, and they should be treated as such.” She gripped your chin roughly, her pointed fingernails scraping along your flesh as you glared at her defiantly despite the ice-cold sensation running through your veins.
“Don’t give me that fucking look, human, show me some respect,” she sneered. For a moment longer, she held your gaze, then her eyes wavered. Faster than you could comprehend, a sharp smack resounded in the small room, and your cheek stung. The force of the slap made your head spin. “You’ll lose that defiant look of yours soon enough and learn to grovel at our feet, just the way it should be. I’ll correct the mistake that fool of a prince made.”
Leaning even closer, she brought her hand down to your throat, closing her grip tightly around it. “I could kill you, just like this,” she whispered harshly into your ear as you struggled against her. Faintness quickly took you over, and your vision became frayed at the edges. Were you going to die like this? “Throw your decaying corpse at the feet of these pathetic weaklings and watch them become consumed by their emotions. And then, I’ll be the king.” You couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this. Not here. Not at her hands.
Finally, she let go of you, and you slumped forward. Blood rushed in your ears and you coughed into the cloth. “Tsk.” She spat on the ground right next to where you were trembling on the chair. “That was more boring than I’d expected. Thought you had more fight in you. But you'll see-”
Her speech was cut off when, suddenly, the door was thrown open, banging against the wall and making both you and your captor flinch. “And what exactly,” drawled a frigid voice as slow steps descended the stairs, “was ‘more boring than expected’? Enlighten me.”
You immediately recognized who it was - of course you did. But the softness that usually laced Lucifer's tone whenever he was talking to you was entirely gone, replaced by a sharpness you’d rarely heard from him. It wasn't directed toward you, you knew that, and yet you couldn't help the shiver running down your spine at the sound of his booming voice. Though he sounded composed, it was clear that he was anything but. The air felt electric, and the dangerous aura he exuded made your hair stand on end. Your heart skipped a beat, only to start pounding faster, a whimper escaping from behind the gag.
Lucifer came to a stop in front of the other demon, who had become virtually frozen in place, all color drained from her face. Gleaming red eyes glanced at you, swiftly assessing your state, before, whatever it was he saw, made his gaze harden even further. “Look away,” he instructed you in an oddly soft tone, and then his focus returned to your abductor, who was now visibly shaking.
“M-my lord,” she stammered, the quiver in her words unmistakable. “Please, you must understand-”
Within the blink of an eye, Lucifer had her pinned against the wall, a pained shriek filling the room. “What must I understand?” he asked, sounding deceptively calm, as his fingers dug into the throat of the other demon. She fought against the grip, trying to loosen the hold. To no avail. Lucifer was unmoving, unbothered by the nails scratching at his gloved hands. Clicking his tongue, he let go, and she collapsed to the ground.
“Please,” she tried, her voice strained as she coughed, attempting to gather herself. A hard kick was delivered to her stomach, causing her to cry out again and curl in on herself. When it was followed by Lucifer stepping on her hand, you knew you should have heeded his order and looked away. As it was, you were unable to avert your gaze as the bones of her fingers cracked beneath the force of his foot. She was pulled up to stand, though most of her weight was being held up by him, pinning her against the wall once more. “I-I'm sorry,” she choked out as he pressed his forearm into her throat.
“Are you truly sorry? Or are you merely trying to save your worthless skin?” Lucifer questioned in a dangerously low voice. He trailed a finger along her cheekbone. “Perhaps,” he mused, “I should rid your body of it. Find a better purpose for it. I believe some bookbinders still use demon skin for books. It would make a terrific present for your family, wouldn't you agree?” He paused, taking in the horror flickering across her face with an impassive expression. “Of course, that would be rather time-consuming. And, quite frankly, I have more important things to tend to than your worthless existence. Let's make this quick then, shall we?”
As if she weighed nothing, he slung her toward the opposite wall, a sickening crack audible as her head made contact with the bricks. She bonelessly fell to the floor, groaning in pain. Before she was able to regain her bearings, Lucifer was kneeling beside her prone body, not caring about the rapidly forming puddle of blood that was dirtying his pants. A dagger glinted in the dimly lit room, and only when blood spurted from her throat, her last, gurgling attempts at breathing filling the air, did you look away, your breaths coming in sharp gasps against the cloth. You felt sick.
With the mangled corpse of the demon lying at the feet of Lucifer, his gaze returned to your quivering form. The intense sheen in his eyes vanished as he took swift steps toward you, appraising your pale appearance. Crouching near you, he partially obscured the gruesome scene behind him. But now, with him finally by your side, he didn't need to. You didn't want to look at it, didn't care about the dead demon, the only thing your sight was drawn to was him. All that mattered was the man before you. The man who could easily kill you just like he killed her, who barely even batted an eye at the wounds he’d inflicted upon that woman. You knew that, rationally, you should be terrified of him, at least as much as you’d been terrified of her. And yet you weren't.
Those same hands that had just killed in cold blood, still stained red, were gently working on undoing the painful restraints keeping you in place. Those same eyes that had shone with ruthless indifference as he had taken a life now looked at you with carefully guarded concern and cautiousness. The crimson streaking his sharp features, dripping off his jaw in beads, complemented the eyes that were looking at you with a contradictory softness perfectly.
Once the cloth was removed from your mouth, all you could muster was a broken sob in the vague shape of his name. With a soft sigh that was probably shakier than Lucifer would have liked to admit, you were gathered into his arms. A hand gingerly pressed against the back of your head, guiding your face into the crook of his neck. The wet blood on his glove was undoubtedly staining your hair, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care; the warmth and safety you found in his embrace was all that mattered.
“Do you have any serious injuries?” he asked quietly, his breath brushing against your ear. Upon feeling you shake your head, he lifted you from the chair, carrying your weight with ease, and you instinctively wrapped your arms over his shoulders. As soon as he'd made it up the stairs, you could hear multiple sets of steps approaching in a hurry alongside several voices, yelling over each other. You recognized all of them, and they rushed around you, a few of them touching you.
Lucifer tightened his hold on you as the sudden onslaught of sensations made you whimper and burrow yourself further into him. “Stop it. This is not helping,” he reprimanded them sharply, and immediately, it grew quiet and the hands withdrew. “I will return home,” he continued. “Do with the body as you wish, though you ought to leave some remains. And don't dawdle too long.”
With that, he went outside, the fresh, cool air replacing the stuffy, metallic tang of the basement. The trip back was short - or was it long? You weren’t sure. It was silent, neither you nor him said anything. The tension in Lucifer was palpable, his posture rigid as he carried you. You mindlessly played with the fabric of his shirt, rubbing it between the tips of your fingers while your head rested on his shoulder.
“I'm okay,” you whispered, although it sounded hollow even to your own ears. He released a heavy sigh and hugged you closer to him.
“You're okay,” he simply echoed.
Next thing you knew, you were back inside. Lucifer's bloody hands were gentle as they worked on divesting your still-trembling form of your clothes, his gaze never lingering anywhere but his own fingers. Not that you would have noticed either way; you were blankly staring ahead, only vaguely aware of his actions. When he had finished, he spoke in a soft voice, as if afraid to startle you, “All done. Are you ready to get in?” Your attention snapped back to the present, to the warm bathroom you were standing in. The tiles beneath your bare feet were a little cold, just now starting to heat up. In the background, water was running, gradually filling the bathtub right next to you.
“Lucifer…?” you mumbled, receiving a squeeze to your hands in response. Looking down, you realized he was gently holding them in his own, ugly bruises and abrasions blooming across your wrists. His gloves were still damp, some of the blood staining your skin.
“Yes. I’m here. Let’s get you cleaned up now,” he responded patiently, directing you toward the tub. Your steps were mechanical as you followed his guidance, entering the warm water and submerging your body in it. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to yourself, simply gazing at the rippling shapes around you.
“I will leave for a moment to change. Call for me if something is the matter.” For a beat, Lucifer waited for a reply, a reaction, anything from you. When he received none, he sighed wearily. “It will only be for a moment, I will be right back,” he said before stepping out. As you submerged your hands, you watched as the water surrounding you turned a light shade of pink. The pain radiating from your wrists was distant, detached from your being. You observed how you flexed your fingers, then curled them toward your palm, nails digging into the flesh. Had your hands always looked like that? Turning them around, you inspected them, spreading the fingers apart, pressing them together and-
“Does it hurt a lot?” a voice asked and you flinched hard, spinning toward the source. Lucifer was kneeling next to the tub, his brow creased in a frown. “I did not mean to startle you. You seemed very… absorbed in your thoughts. I suppose you didn’t hear me return.” His gloves were gone now, with no traces of the blood that had marred his skin just minutes ago. He had changed into clean, comfortable clothes as well. Upon your prolonged silence, he reached for a nearby cloth, dipping it into the water, then moving it over your body in slow, gentle circles.
“Is this real?” you muttered, the words leaving your mouth before you had even formed the thought.
“Yes, it is real,” he confirmed calmly, though his ministrations faltered briefly. “We are in my bathroom, back in the House of Lamentation. You are safe here.”
“Mhm…” you hummed noncommittally, your gaze drifting down to your submerged hands as you balled them into fists and stretched them out. The water rippled at the repetitive motion and you couldn’t help but stare at the patterns it created. The sensation of the cloth brushing over your skin faded into the background. Only when larger hands stopped your movements, grasping yours gently, did you glance at Lucifer again. You blinked at him blankly. Something in his expression was off, though you couldn’t tell what it was.
“I’m tired,” a voice said and you didn’t have the energy to think about whether it was your own or not.
“Let’s get you into bed then, hm?” he suggested softly, letting the water drain and carefully supporting you as you stood up and stepped out of the tub. A large towel was wrapped around you with which he patted you dry before he helped you into a set of clothes. They vaguely smelled like him. With an arm over your shoulders, he guided you out of the bathroom and back toward his room. Once at the bed, you lay down, sinking into the mattress. For a moment, Lucifer simply remained next to you, regarding you with an unreadable look on his face. Eventually, he knelt beside you and opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a small container. Gingerly, he took one of your arms and scooped out some ointment to apply to the raw skin on your wrist, then he repeated it on the other side as well.
After stowing it away again, Lucifer turned off all the lights besides the candles and climbed into the bed next to you, cautiously gathering you into an embrace. A hand cupped the back of your head, hugging you into his chest as the fingers stroked your scalp. Aside from his even breaths and your slow, shallow ones, it was silent. An invisible weight was tugging on your limbs, the only thing holding you in place, holding you together, were the arms enveloping you.
“Can I let go?” you mumbled, not quite sure yourself what you were trying to ask, but he seemed to understand nonetheless.
“Yes, it’s alright to let go now,” he reassured you, squeezing you a little tighter. “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
Humming in response, you nestled closer to him, feeling your breaths gradually synchronize with his as you surrendered yourself to the heavy warmth overcoming you. Soon, everything else slowly faded away until you finally drifted off to sleep, safe in Lucifer’s hold.
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midnight-shadow-cafe · 3 days ago
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Through the Static
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X Female!Reader
Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries, brief mentions of drinking, fluff
Authors Note: Hope you enjoy! The reader is a radio operator in this one while Ghostie is injured.
Word Count: 1k
Masterlist
MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+
The forest was a maze of shifting shadows and biting cold, the moonlight barely cutting through the dense canopy. Ghost pressed a gloved hand to his side, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage he'd hastily wrapped around the wound. He didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t.
His comms had been destroyed in the ambush, but the battered field radio he'd salvaged crackled faintly in his ear. It was his only connection to the outside world, his only chance at survival.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting the knobs. Static hissed, wavered, and then—
“This is Operator Delta… Anyone receiving? Over.”
Ghost’s hand froze. A voice.
“This is Bravo-Zero-Six,” he rasped, his voice low and strained. “Stranded. Injured. No extraction in sight. Location unknown. Over.”
A pause followed, then your voice returned, calm and steady.
“Bravo-Zero-Six, I’ve got you. Can you describe your surroundings? Over.”
Ghost exhaled through his nose, forcing his mind to focus. “Forest. Sparse cover. Northwest of the last known position. Nightfall. No landmarks.”
“Copy that,” you said, your tone professional but warm. “Head north. I’ll guide you to a safe zone. Stay on this channel, and keep moving. You’re not alone, Bravo-Zero-Six. Over.”
Not alone. The words shouldn’t have mattered, but they did. Ghost adjusted his pack and began moving again.
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Hours stretched on, his body growing heavier with each step. The cold seeped through his gear, and the ache in his side turned sharper, each breath a reminder of the shrapnel lodged there. But your voice on the radio was constant, grounding.
“Still with me, Bravo-Zero-Six?”
“Still here,” he muttered, his voice taut with pain.
“How’s the injury?”
“Manageable.”
“Sure it is,” you replied, a teasing note slipping into your tone. “You’re not going to impress me by bleeding out quietly, Ghost.”
He huffed a breath that might have been a laugh. “Wasn’t trying to.”
“Well, good,” you said. “Because I’d like you alive enough to buy me a drink when this is over.”
Ghost blinked, caught off guard by the casual boldness of your remark. He hadn’t expected warmth, humor—not from someone on the other end of a radio in a dire situation.
“Make it out alive,” he said, his tone gruff but not unfriendly, “and we’ll talk.”
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The clearing you’d guided him to came into view just as Ghost’s legs threatened to give out. The faint thrum of helicopter blades reached his ears, growing louder as he stumbled forward, each step heavier than the last.
He collapsed onto his knees, his vision blurring as his body finally gave in. Your voice crackled in his ear one last time, soft and steady.
“Hold on, Ghost. They’ve got you now.”
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The recovery ward was quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the steady beep of a heart monitor the only sounds. Ghost blinked against the brightness, his body heavy with exhaustion but alive.
The radio on the bedside table caught his eye—a battered relic from the field, but the sight of it brought back the sound of your voice, the hours of guidance that had kept him moving.
The door creaked open, and his gaze snapped toward it.
“Permission to enter, Bravo-Zero-Six?”
Your voice, softer in person but instantly recognizable, sent a strange flicker of warmth through him. You stepped inside, a faint smile on your lips as you approached his bedside.
“Ghost,” he said, nodding slightly.
“Operator Delta,” you replied with a small grin. “But some people call me Daisy. It’s a nickname.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, the closest thing to a smile he’d managed in days. “Pleasure to meet you properly.”
A pause hung in the air, heavy with unspoken gratitude. Finally, he added, his voice softer than usual, “But you can call me Simon.”
Your eyes flickered with surprise, your smile softening. “Simon, then.” You sat down in the chair beside him, leaning forward slightly muttering your name to him, “But Daisy works, too.”
The room fell quiet again, not awkward but comfortable, the weight of everything that had happened settling between you.
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Weeks passed before Simon was cleared for light duty. When he finally reached out to you, it was through an unassuming message:
“You still want that drink, Daisy?”
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The bar he chose was quiet, tucked into a corner of town far from the noise and bustle of crowded streets. Simon arrived early, dressed casually in a dark jacket and jeans. His mask was gone, though the balaclava he wore was a reminder of the man most people knew him to be.
When you walked in, he stood, his sharp blue eyes tracking your every move. You smiled when you saw him, and something in his chest eased.
“I was starting to think you’d chicken out,” you teased as you slid into the seat across from him.
“Not a chance,” he said, his voice lighter than usual.
The conversation flowed easier than he’d expected. You talked about everything and nothing—the absurdity of some missions, favorite songs, even the meaning behind your nickname.
“Daisy?” he asked, a brow lifting.
You laughed softly. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve got a habit of finding light in dark places.”
Simon didn’t say anything, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips.
When the night came to an end, he walked you to your car, the cold night air nipping at his skin.
“You surprised me, Simon,” you said as you turned to face him.
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t think someone like you would keep a promise like this.”
He tilted his head, his gaze steady. “You kept me alive, Daisy. Least I could do.”
The warmth in your smile made something in him shift, something he couldn’t quite name. For the first time in years, he thought that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to face everything alone.
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Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜
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