#she demanded to go back into the warm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

butterfliesandwendigos · 4 months ago

Text

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. BEFORE — Josh Washington

SUMMARY — a rekindled romance with Josh Washington leads to a night of pleasure and requited feelings for one another.

W/C — 6k.

NOTES — written in 2nd person POV, includes smut, smut, SMUT, lowkey a bit of fluff, considering writing a part two involving josh’s psycho prank reveal.

PART ONE | PART TWO

The tension in the room escalates as a heavy silence settles over the group, and the cold air reflects the unease on everyone’s faces. The atmosphere grows thick with unspoken words, and the other friends exchange worried glances, unsure how to intervene in Emily and Jessica’s argument.

Standing in the centre of the room, Josh senses the confrontation spiralling out of control. He takes a deep breath, determination flickering in his eyes as he steps forward, his voice attempting to cut through the mounting anxiety.

“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about,” he suggests, trying to redirect the group’s attention away from the simmering conflict.

Looking at Jess with an eagerness that masks his concern, Mike jumps at the chance to shift gears. “Yeah, alright. Want to go do that?” he asks Jess, his tone light but tinged with hope.

Still bitter and glaring daggers at Emily, Jess responds with a sharp edge. “Any place without that whore,” she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. Her eyes flicker to Emily, who stands rigid, hurt and anger swirling in her gaze.

Emily’s fists clench at her sides as she takes in Jess's words. “Wow, Jess. Classy,” she fires back, her voice strained as she struggles to maintain her composure.

Caught between the two, Josh tries to keep the mood light, though disappointment hangs heavy in his heart. “It’s right up the trail,” he chimes in, glancing nervously between them, desperate to diffuse the situation.

Mike, feeling the weight of Jess’s glare, takes her hand and pulls her gently away from the tension. “Let’s go,” he says, leading her toward the door, eager to escape the simmering conflict behind them.

As Jess and Mike step outside, the door clicks shut, leaving a heavy silence in the lodge. The warmth from the fireplace feels suddenly distant, and the atmosphere is charged with unresolved tension. Emily stands frozen for a moment, her heart racing with betrayal and anger, her body trembling as she processes the sting of jealousy.

Josh shakes his head slowly, disappointment etched as he watches Mike and Jess walk away. His eyes linger on Emily, concern flaring up as he witnesses the distress radiating from her. The remaining friends exchange uneasy looks, each uncertain how to navigate the sudden rift that has opened.

Matt, Emily’s boyfriend, stares at her with concern and confusion. He’s distressed by her jealousy, feeling her emotions pressing down on him. “Em, are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice hesitant, trying to bridge the gap between them.

Emily's expression hardens, turns on Matt, frustration spilling out in a flood. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’ll let her treat me like that! And do you know where my pink bag from the rodeo is?” she demands, her voice rising with agitation.

Matt is caught off guard and hesitates before responding. “Uh, I don’t know… I thought you had it with you,” he replies, unsure how to react to her outburst.

Emily’s eyes flash with anger. “Well, I don’t! So we need to find it. Now!” she insists, her tone leaving little room for argument.

With a heavy sigh, Matt nods, resigned to her request. “Okay, let’s look for it,” he replies, attempting to keep his voice steady, even as uncertainty lingers in his gaze.

Across the room, Sam, sensing the tension, tries to control her situation. “I’m going to have a nice, warm bath,” she announces, her voice breaking through the thick silence. “Maybe some relaxation will help.” She gives the group a small smile but does little to ease the tension.

As the air in the lodge remains heavy with tension, Josh takes it upon himself to bring some warmth back into the space. He moves toward the fireplace, fumbling with kindling and logs, determined to ignite a fire that can literally and metaphorically chase away the chill. He strikes a match, watching it flicker momentarily before it catches, the flame dancing to life.

His eyes search yours, filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. At that moment, the noise of the lodge fades into the background, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the room, standing on the precipice of a more profound connection amidst the chaos of friendship and rivalry.

Meanwhile, Ashley and Chris sit together in the corner of the room, their eyes darting nervously around the space. The silence between them stretches, filled only by the crackling of the match against the wood.

Ashley fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, her cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s pretty intense, right?” she replies, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. “I never thought it would get that heated. We’re supposed to be here to have fun, not fight.”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s like, one minute we’re all friends, and the next… everyone’s at each other’s throats.” He glances over at Josh, who is still wrestling with the logs in the fireplace, trying to coax a flame to grow. “You think he’s going to be okay? I mean, he’s trying so hard to keep things together.”

Ashley nods, her eyes following Josh’s movements. “I hope so. He’s a good guy, you know? He wants everyone to have a good time. It’s just… hard to watch everyone fight like this.”

Chris, sensing a moment of connection, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I appreciate how you always try to keep things positive. I wish I could be more like that sometimes.”

Ashley looks at him, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot,” she replies softly, a shy smile creeping onto her face.

Before they can delve deeper into their conversation, Sam returns down the stairs, a towel draped over her shoulder. She looks a bit flustered, running a hand through her damp hair. “Hey, guys,” she calls out, her voice bright but tinged with frustration. “I just checked the bath, and the gas is off, so the water’s cold. Great, right?”

Josh is still focused on getting the fire to catch and grimaces. “Seriously? That’s not what I needed to hear right now,” he mutters, finally coaxing a small flame into existence.

Sam rolls her eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, let’s just add it to the list of things going wrong tonight.”

Josh, however, takes the news in stride and turns toward you with a spark of determination in his eyes. “Y/N, how about we go to the basement and check the gas? It shouldn’t be too complicated, and I could use the extra hands.”

Ashley and Chris exchange glances, their conversation momentarily forgotten. “Do you think you can fix it?” Chris asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

Josh nods confidently, but there’s a hint of uncertainty beneath the bravado. “Yeah, it’s probably just a quick adjustment.”

Sam shrugs, a smile returning to her face. “I’ll keep an eye on the fire for you guys. Just don’t blow anything up, okay?”

“Promise,” Josh replies, flashing a grin as he heads toward the basement door, glancing back at you. “You coming, Y/N?”

Josh’s hopeful gaze offers a chance for distraction, perhaps even a moment to connect without the chaos of the others hanging overhead.

“Yeah, I’m in,” you respond, pushing off from your seat. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline at the idea of stepping away from the drama and into the unknown of the basement with Josh.

He smiles, a mixture of relief and excitement crossing his features. “Awesome. Let’s go.”

Together, you head toward the basement door, the creaky wood floorboards echoing softly behind you. As Josh opens the door, a rush of cool air greets you, starkly contrasting the lodge's warmth. The darkness beyond is thick, with only a few dim lights flickering in the distance.

“Do you have a flashlight?” you ask, glancing back at him.

“Yeah, I got one,” he replies, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, rugged flashlight. He flicks it on, illuminating a narrow staircase that leads down into the gloom.

You descend the stairs together, the light casting long shadows against the stone walls. The air grows more relaxed, a bit musty, filled with the scent of old wood and dust. As you reach the bottom, the beam reveals an assortment of old furniture covered in sheets, boxes piled high, and the occasional rustle of a rat scurrying away.

“Welcome to the dungeon,” Josh jokes, trying to keep the atmosphere light as he sweeps the flashlight across the room. “Quite the sight, huh?”

You chuckle, appreciating his attempt at humour. “At least it’s not filled with creepy dolls or something.”

Josh nods, stepping further inside. “Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on with the gas.” He moves to a panel on the wall, inspecting it closely. “It shouldn’t be too complicated. Just a valve adjustment, I think.”

You step closer, watching him with a mix of admiration and concern. He looks determined, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kneels to get a better look at the mechanism. The moment feels profound and fragile as you and Josh exchange lingering glances. But the sudden crash from the living room jolts you back into the present. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and take a deep breath.

“I think it came from upstairs,” you reply, your pulse quickening as your heart races. “Should we check it out?”

Josh hesitates, glancing toward the stairs. “Maybe we should finish with the gas first? If it’s nothing, we don’t want to leave it unattended.”

You nod, trying to push aside the unease creeping into your thoughts. “Right, let’s focus on this first.”

With renewed determination, you both turn your attention back to the valve. After a few moments of adjustments and checking gauges, Josh finally gives a satisfied nod. “I think that should do it. Let’s head back upstairs and let them know.”

As you return to the stairs, the unsettling feeling in your gut lingers, amplifying the sense that something isn’t right. The sounds of the lodge—laughter, tension, muffled voices—float down to you, becoming a mix of reassurance and dread.

Just as you reach the top of the stairs, another loud noise reverberates through the lodge, a sharp sound like something heavy being knocked over. You exchange worried glances with Josh, both of you feeling the shift in the atmosphere.

“What was that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Josh replies, his tone serious as he tightens his grip on the flashlight. “But we need to find out.”

With that, you both step back into the main room, the previous tensions overshadowed by an unfamiliar fear. The crackling of the fire is drowned out by hurried footsteps and raised voices, the friends agitated by whatever’s happening.

“Did you hear that?” Josh asks, his eyes darting around the room.

You nod, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on you. “We need to stick together,” you suggest a quiet resolve forming between you.

“Stay behind me,” he replies, stepping closer as you prepare to confront whatever lurks in the shadows. The night is far from over, and the real challenge has only begun.

Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, a sudden flash of colour catches your eye. Before you can react, Chris bursts into the hallway, wearing a ridiculous, oversized bathrobe with a floppy hat and fuzzy slippers. He strikes a dramatic pose, grinning widely.

“Behold! The Phantom of the Lodge!” he exclaims, his voice booming as he swings his arms for effect.

You jump back, letting out a surprised yelp. Instinctively, you grab Josh’s arm, clinging to him tightly as your heart races. “Oh my God, Chris! You scared me!”

Josh chuckles, his initial shock melting into laughter as he steadies you. “Seriously, man? This is the best you could come up with?”

Chris leans into his performance, spinning around in the robe and throwing his hands up. “What? You don’t like my haunting style? I thought I’d bring some fun to this dreary evening!”

You can’t help but laugh, the night's tension momentarily dissipating as you release Josh’s arm, albeit reluctantly. “I mean, if the ghost you’re trying to scare is one of my nightmares, then sure, it’s working!”

Josh shakes his head, still smiling. “You need to get better at hiding, Chris. That was way too easy.”

Chris pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his heart. “Easy? I’m a master of scare tactics! Just look at my costume!” He twirls again, the robe billowing dramatically around him. “If I were a real ghost, I’d have you all quaking in your boots!”

Josh rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile at Chris’s antics. “You might want to reconsider your career choices, buddy. You’re more likely to make us laugh than scream.”

The lighthearted banter creates a much-needed distraction, and the tension from earlier seems to fade a bit. You take a deep breath, feeling more at ease, though you still chuckle as Chris prays around in his ridiculous outfit.

“Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun,” you say, finally regaining your composure. “But seriously, let’s focus. We must check on the others and see what’s happening.”

Chris drops the act, his playful demeanour shifting to concern. “Right, right. I just thought a little laughter would lighten the mood. Things have been pretty intense tonight.”

“Yeah, they have,” Josh agrees, his expression turning serious again. “But let’s get back out there and have some fun.”

As you enter the main room, the lingering echoes of laughter from Chris’s antics fade into the background, replaced by the familiar tension that still lingers among the group. You glance at Josh, feeling the weight of your unresolved feelings.

“Hey, Josh,” you say, lowering your voice to ensure Chris doesn’t overhear. “Can we talk for a second? Like… about last year?”

Josh’s expression shifts, a mix of curiosity and concern. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I feel like we’ve both been avoiding it. Everything that happened before...”

His gaze softens, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. “Before my sisters disappeared.”

Just then, Chris, standing a few feet away, suddenly perks up. He catches Josh’s eye and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Uh, I’ll be waiting over there,” he says, gesturing to a corner of the room. “You two take your time.”

You can’t help but smile at Chris’s teasing, but Josh rolls his eyes, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “Thanks, Chris. We’ll try to keep it brief,” he replies, trying to suppress a grin.

As Chris saunters away, you turn back to Josh, feeling a rush of nervous energy. “So, where do we even start?” you ask, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening.

“I guess we start with the fact that I missed you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “When everything happened, my only focus was on finding my sisters. But I’ve thought about you a lot and regret not saying anything sooner.”

You feel your heart flutter at his words. “I missed you too. I didn’t want to complicate things when you already dealt with so much.”

“I know,” he replies, his expression pained. “And I appreciate you allowing me time to heal with my parents. Last year was such a mess. I’m just glad you had nothing to do with Hannah’s prank,” Josh admits, stepping towards you.

“Never, I could never have anything to do with that,” You say softly, giving him a warm smile.

He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I know. It would’ve hurt me a lot if you did.”

After a few moments, you poke some fun at the tension lingering from the past. “You know,” you say playfully, “I couldn’t have possibly been part of Hannah’s prank. Thanks to you last year, I was too busy being in a compromising position.”

Josh raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh really? Care to elaborate on that?”

You can feel the moment's weight hanging in the air, the tension from earlier dissipating as you lock eyes with Josh. The connection between you feels electric, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the lodge fades into the background.

You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Are you trying to charm me, Josh?”

“Maybe,” he replies, leaning slightly closer, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been known to have that effect on people. And honestly, what sane woman could resist it?”

Josh glances back to ensure no one is watching before he reaches out, gently brushing your arm with his hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

As you both make your way toward the staircase, a voice interrupts your moment. Chris and Ashley round the corner, eyebrows raised in unison.

“Hey! Where are you two sneaking off to?” Chris calls out, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

You exchange a glance with Josh; both are caught off guard. “Uh, just... checking out the view from upstairs!” you manage to say, attempting to sound casual.

“Yeah, you know,” Josh adds quickly, “the top floor has the best spot for stargazing. I just wanted to make sure we don’t miss it.

Ashley leans in, her expression sceptical. “Right. Because you two need alone time for stargazing.” She smirks, clearly not buying it.

Josh nods, his grin still plastered on his face. “Yeah, we just want to hang out for a bit. You know how it is—sometimes you need a break from the chaos.”

Chris and Ashley exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up under their scrutiny. “All right, all right,” Chris finally concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply, rolling your eyes, a grin breaking through.

With one last playful eye-roll from Ashley and an exaggerated sigh from Chris, they leave you and Josh standing at the base of the stairs.

You and Josh make your way down the dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of the wind howling outside, barely breaking the heavy silence. The air feels cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively lean closer to him, and he responds by wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in a little tighter to keep you warm.

“Is it just me, or does it feel like this place gets colder the further we walk?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite the chill.

Josh chuckles softly, glancing down at you. “Yeah but don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He squeezes you gently, his warmth radiating through his skin, making you feel more at ease.

As you approach his room, the door looks more inviting against the shadows filling the hallway. Josh stops just outside, looking down at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He turns the handle and opens the door, revealing a cozy space with warm lighting, the comforting scent of wood, and something faintly sweet. As he steps inside, you follow him, and he quickly shuts the door behind you, locking it with a soft click.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifts. The hallway's darkness is replaced by the warm glow of a bedside lamp, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows on the walls. It feels intimate and safe here.

Josh’s gaze drops to your lips briefly, and everything shifts in that instant. The air between you crackles with electricity, and before you can process it, he closes the distance, cupping your face gently with his hands.

Time seems to slow as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as your heart races. And then, his lips find yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters.

You respond instinctively, leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as the tension and unspoken feelings from before surging to the surface. It feels natural as if this moment has been building for far longer than the few minutes you’ve been alone. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the world outside fading entirely from your mind.

When you finally pull away, breathless, you look into Josh’s eyes, searching for the same emotions you feel swirling inside you. His cheeks are flushed, and his gaze’s a look of wonder.

Your warmth intensifies as your lips meet again, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, a blend of pent-up emotions and undeniable attraction. Josh’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. The world outside the door fades entirely, leaving only the sound of your heart beating in sync.

You feel excitement as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. His hands explore your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sweater, sending shivers down your spine. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," Josh murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy, making your heart race even faster.

"Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the thrill of his admission sending a wave of excitement through you. As if sensing your need for more, he deepens the kiss, and you melt into him.

You feel his hands explore your sides, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensations swirl around you, and you lose yourself in the sweetness of his kiss, his intoxicating taste. Josh pulls you closer, the pressure of his body against yours, heightening the tension. You can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling you in like a magnet. The kiss becomes more frantic and desperate, as if you're afraid of what might happen if you stop.

When you break apart momentarily, Josh’s eyes dark with desire. "I can't believe it took us this long to do this again," he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers through you, and you lean into him, craving more.

Without breaking eye contact, he leans in again, capturing your lips in a soft and demanding kiss. You feel the fire between you intensify, and you sigh softly as you return the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you can feel his warmth against you, making it hard to think. The world outside ceases to exist; the two of you are wrapped up in this moment.

"Y/N," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, desires flickering in his gaze. He gestures towards your top, tugging at the bottom of it. “Can I?"

Your heart races at the question, but the answer feels instinctual. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions.

With a spark of determination, Josh slides your t-shirt over your head. His hands slide down your back, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He pulls you down with him, guiding you onto his lap.

As you settle onto his lap, the heat between you grows palpable. Josh's hands remain firm on your hips, grounding you in the moment—his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, filled with hunger and tenderness.

With a swift movement, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing toned muscles that glisten softly in the dim light. The sight sends a rush of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I want to see you." The request ignites a thrill of anticipation within you.

Josh's fingers trace the delicate curve of your spine as he gently removes your bra, letting it fall to the floor unnoticed. His gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he takes in the sight of you. The room is quiet except for your joint breaths, each heavier than the last.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

He doesn't wait for a response. Instead, his hands slide around to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasp, arching into his touch, your head tilting back instinctively.

"So responsive," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline as he moves closer to your ear. "I love how you react to my touch."

His words tingle your skin, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs. You want more of his hands, mouth, and more of him. You nod, unable to form words through the haze of desire clouding your mind.

With a wicked grin, Josh shifts his grip, one hand still playing with your nipple while the other slides down to your waistband. He tugs at your leggings, pulling it down your hips until it crumples at your thighs. Your panties are now exposed, and he wastes no time reaching under them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

"Spread your legs for me," he commands softly, his voice firm but not unkind.

You obey, parting your legs slightly, allowing him better access. His fingers continue their journey upward, dipping just inside the edge of your panties before finding their target. You feel the pad of his index finger glide over your clit, a slow, teasing stroke that makes you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

"That’s it," he encourages, adding another finger to circle your clit faster. "Let me hear you."

The combination of his dirty talk and touch pushes you closer to the edge. You try to maintain some semblance of control, but his fingers on your clit have reduced you to a quivering mess. Your breath comes in short gasps, and you can feel the tension building rapidly inside you.

“Josh…” you manage to whisper, your voice cracking as waves of pleasure begin to crest.

He responds by pressing harder, his thumb circling your nipple while his fingers work magic between your legs. The sensations are too intense, and you know you won't last much longer. Your body stiffens, muscles tightening as you feel the familiar rush of an impending orgasm.

"Cum for me," he orders, his voice laced with authority. "Show me how much you like my fingers."

Those words tip you over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, your body trembling with the force of your release. Josh doesn't let up, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks, ensuring every ounce of pleasure is wrung from your body.

When the tremors finally subside, you collapse against him, weak and breathless. Josh pulls his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in his eyes tells you this is far from over.

"Now," he says, his voice rough with unspent desire, "it's my turn."

He stands up, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back onto the bed. You watch as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothes, revealing his hard, eager cock. He positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head as he hovers above you, maintaining that intense eye contact.

"Tell me what you want," he demands, his tone brooking no refusal.

You bite your lip, considering your answer. The power dynamic has shifted, and you feel thrilled at being under his command. But you also know what you want—what you need.

"I want you inside me," you confess, your voice soft but clear. "Please, Josh."

A smile curves his lips, triumphant and possessive. "Good girl," he murmurs, lowering himself until his cock brushes against your entrance. "This might hurt a little at first. I want you to take every inch."

You nod, understanding the challenge. He slowly pushes forward, stretching you, filling you. The initial sting gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure as he sinks deeper, inch by agonisingly delicious inch. You clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he continues his relentless advance.

"All of it," he growls, his muscles straining as he reaches the hilt. "Take all of me."

You whimper, overwhelmed by the fullness but also by the primal rush of having him entirely inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his hands moving to cradle your face as he gazes down at you.

"Are you ready?" he asks, though it sounds more like a statement.

Before you can answer, he pulls out slightly and then thrusts back in, which is more challenging this time. The impact makes your breath hitch, and you can't help but cry out at its intensity. He repeats the motion, each thrust more vigorous than the last, pushing you higher and higher.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his voice strained. "So tight."

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you meet his thrusts, your hips rising to greet him. The rhythm builds, becoming more frantic, more desperate. The world narrows down to just the two of you, locked in this primal dance of lust and need.

Suddenly, he changes pace, slowing down just enough to tilt his hips differently. The angle hits a spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur with pleasure. You can feel your second climax approaching, and you cling to him for dear life.

"Josh... I'm close," you gasp, your voice barely audible.

He smiles darkly, taking that as his cue. "Then cum all over me," he says, speeding up again. "Let go."

His words trigger something within you, and you feel the dam break as another powerful orgasm rips through you. Your body convulses beneath him, and you moan his name as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

Josh doesn’t stop his thrusts, making them harder and rougher with each stroke. You begin to feel the slick between your legs turn into a gush, tiny droplets of your heat squirting on his pelvis. He slides out and pushes back in, going deeper each time. You feel his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you harder and harder, your slick still flying onto his abdomen. He looks into your eyes with a wicked smirk, his cock never slowing.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumble, barely coherent.

You feel like you’re on fire, your muscles are so tense they feel like they’re about to snap, your body is clenching down on him so hard it hurts, and you feel yourself pouring like a waterfall.

Josh suddenly stops and flips you on your side, his body following suit as he lays behind you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“You know I’m not kidding when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers into your neck.

You feel him stiffen behind you and realise he’s still inside you. You moan quietly, and he slowly starts to move again. His hands grip your hips, and he picks up the pace, fucking you harder this time. You push back into him, your body desperate for his cock.

“I knew…” he grunts, his movements getting faster and faster. “I knew it the first night we met.”

You gasp at his words and start to feel another orgasm build. His cock hits a different spot inside you this time, and you feel it fill you. You begin to shake and moan as your muscles clench down on him. He lets out a loud groan, and his movements become more erratic.

“I’m gonna cum,” he moans. You feel him pick up the pace and drive himself into you repeatedly. His cock swells inside you, and you feel his hot release cover your walls. His cum floods your pussy as he fucks you through his orgasm. He collapses behind you and pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you and look over your shoulder at him. He’s watching your pussy with a look of satisfaction on his face.

Josh wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long. I’ve been so caught up with Hannah and Beth disappearing… but seeing you tonight reminded me of everything I’ve always felt for you.”

You stay silent, waiting to hear his following words. A short while later, you feel him getting up. You roll over onto your back and watch as he walks away, naked and utterly comfortable in his own body. He disappears out the door and returns a minute later, holding a box of tissues and a damp washcloth.

He climbs into bed, pressing the washcloth to your pussy. “I want to take care of you. I want to make sure you feel good.”

“I want to take care of you too, Josh,” You whisper, voice barely above a whisper. You’re exhausted but relaxed beyond any relaxation you’ve ever experienced.

“I love that you’re all fucked out for me,” he says. You smile at him and watch as he tosses the washcloth away and opens the box of tissues.

He pulls out a few and gently wipes his cock clean. He looks up at you as he does it, watching your reaction to him cleaning himself. You feel your body start to get warm, and your nipples perk up at the sight. He smiles as he realises what’s happening.

“I’m tempted to go for round 2, but I think it would be kind of rude for the house host to disappear for long periods… even if it’s to spend time with a super gorgeous woman,” Josh says, throwing the used tissues onto the floor and crawling back into bed with you.

“Let’s lay here for a little while,” You tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to you. He pulls the blankets over both of your naked bodies and comfortably wraps his arms around your body.

“We can lay here, but not for too long; the others will come busting in here and find us naked,” Josh laughs, playing with the hair strands dangling over your chest.

“Fine,” You yawn, feeling yourself slip into a deep slumber, “We’ll only stay for… a little… while.”

Yawn after yawn, your physical tiredness overtook your awakened state. Slowly, your eyes closed, and your muscles relaxed into the comfort of Josh’s mattress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Josh whispers into your ear, unaware of your sleeping state. He hears a slight, feminine-sounding snore and peers over your body, observing your half-open mouth and closed eyes.

Kissing you on the forehead, Josh slowly gets out of bed and gets dressed. He has big plans for tonight, sadistic, messed-up plans… and he wanted you to have no part in it.

#until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #josh until dawn #josh washington x reader #josh washington #until dawn x reader #josh washington x you #until dawn josh

2K notes · View notes

tojisun · 21 days ago

Text

cw: this is silly </3; smut; there’s a smidge of plot but otherwise pwp - d/s dynamics

john prides himself on his patience but you seemed to be testing even that.

he doesn't even know what happened just that one minute you were on his lap, hot lips mauling his own, then next you were off, screaming and yelling at him to go away. demanding that he leave and to never come back.

he had barely gotten a croaked, "what-" before you were slamming the door of the bedroom shut with a definitive click of the lock, effectively leaving him abandoned on the couch with his cock half-chubbed up underneath his pants.

no, really, what.

john wipes his face with his palms, breathing in deeply.

he knew that you were a damn brat. that the way you shyly smiled and tittered when he first met you was deliberate because you were hiding the deviousness underneath all the softness. but john had fucked the brattiness out from hiding; used his tongue and slurped your pussy until its raw because not yet. your soft mewls and quiet whimpers were not what he was after. what he was looking for was-

"fuck me!" you cried out before fisting his hair to tug him up from between your plush thighs. "want it now, johnnnnnnn! want yer cock, want-"

you blabbered on so prettily, all angry and teary-eyed in your frustration, and demanded. god, you are so demanding. so pretty at it too.

but your ire is staggering right now, more so because you were all soft and sweet, warm on top of him, and now you've locked yourself away in the room, leaving his balls all blue and his head throbbing with faint worry and exasperation.

john stands up with a huff and pads towards the locked door.

"baby?" he asks tentatively before rapping his knuckles on the door.

there is silence on your end. john doesn't know if he prefers this over you lashing out.

"baby, c'mon," he says, lust abating to make room for worry. "what is it so i can fix it-"

"go fuck your mistress, john!" you hurl from the other side, your voice muffled by the door and the space in between, but john catches sound of it anyway and feels his whole world halt to a confusing pause.

mistress? what-

"-mistress?"

"her cologne's on you! you think i won't recognize it even underneath all your aftershave?!"

john is-

truthfully, john is lost.

there is no one else - it has always been you. from the moment that you batted your eyelashes at him from across his squad's table at the pub, he was gone. he wanted you then and he continues to want you now - you exist as his cornerstone, the one that grounds him amidst the tides. the better half of his soul.

his beautiful, snarky, teasing, devious of a lover.

no one can even come close, not that he lets anyone even try because it’s either you or death, and nothing less.

so the… accusation makes him bleed. he feels unsteady, like you’ve just jilted him and left him to ruin. john wants to fix this. he doesn’t want to let the insecurity fester or the distrust to unfurl even further. but you smelled someone else on him and john knows you will never lie so he thinks hard, mapping what could ever happen to cause you so much distress-

oh.

oh, how cute.

he remembers now - remembers swinging by laswell and getting pulled into her wife’s hug because it’s been years since he visited. she joked that she thought that he’d died, and he laughed because of how elated he had been at the callout.

because john could never settle down in his home, finding comfort back in the barracks instead; always twitching, always willing to stay in the desert longer than laswell demanded them. and when the loneliness crept into his heart, laswell extended her home to him. but he didn’t need that balm anymore. he didn’t need the distraction anymore because john, he-

he found home in you.

and kate’s charming wife teased, asking when he’d get to meet you, and john promised soon, hugging them again on his way out. and now, you’ve thought he is going around slighting you like he won’t give you the gun himself and press the barrel on his temple if he ever did.

now, to tell you this…

“baby,” he tries once more, feeling his lips dancing in mirth. “baby, i promise to you - there is no other woman. s’always been you, peanut.”

there is a thud on your end, a tentative beat, only for silence to ring out once more. that’s fine - john’s not done explaining anyway.

“went to laswell,” he says. “her wife cooked lunch f’r us, and then they hugged me on my way out, and that’s it, peanut. there is no one else i’ll be with.” he licks his lips, debating, but the hunger has unfurled and his eyes have darkened.

“there’s no one else i’ll fuck because there is no one good enough to make me forget the way y’feel ‘round me - all plump and warm and, christ-”

john’s prick twitches awake again, remembering the weight of your body as you rode him last night, and how your pudge dimpled with his every manhandling. you gasped and whined, telling him he wasn’t allowed to be too rough like you weren’t being deliberate in your teases, trying to coax him into exploding. into taking over - and he did. he fucked you on your front, pressing your body on the bed with a hand pushing down on your neck as he drilled you for hours-on-end.

yes, there really is no one else for him. jesus, baby, your pussy ruined him for anyone else. you got him pussy-whipped; got him slobbering for a taste, for a dollop of your slick on his tongue.

you are crack on your own - something so divine that he always feels like a devotee when the passion sizzles into quiet shocks; skin twitching, sexes all rubbed raw.

john would have started pawing at his cock, even if he was mid-through his apology, if it wasn’t for the door clicking open until finally, he sees you peek through the small gap.

“y’promise?” you ask.

“yeah, baby,” john replies, and he doesn’t even feel shy at the gravel in his voice; how he sounds all parts ruined and desperate. “let me show you my devotion. won’t you let me?”

you sniff, then, “okay.”

it ends with you covered in so much of his spunk - dripping from your cunt, filling your stomach from when he fucked your throat, and even staining your winking asshole.

lord, it even coats your toes, your thighs, your trembling hands.

john really had his way with you, proving that there’s really no one else that drives him this way. he loves you - he’s murmured this to you so much - but you’ve been a brat. you teased and then threw a tantrum so it’s only right that john punished you. that he tamed you, until you are as you are now - body wracked with jolts, your gaze all faraway, and your pussy moulded to his shape.

“i love you,” john sighs dreamily. you can only manage a warbled hum.

cute.

#suns #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price smut #john price #x reader #i wrote this with half a vision

1K notes · View notes

theorist-fox · 1 month ago

Text

Johnny's invited to dinner

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Word Count: 900

18+

CW: smut!!! this is literally smut. blowjob, handjob, various jobs that don't involve a salary. smug johnny. assertive dom simon but soft with you and you only.

Masterlist 🦊

“Agreed to have ya ‘ere to look, not to talk, MacTavish.”

Simon’s voice is a growl that unfolds like an earthquake, reverberating in your skull. It cracks at the edges when your lips, wrapped around his cock, slide a little further down.

Johnny stands less than a foot from where you kneel, fully dressed but with his dick in hand, stroking idly and passing his thumb over the slit every now and then.

“Ach—but she seems to like it.” Johnny’s lips quirk in an impish smile, and his hand travels the space between you and him to tangle his fingers in your hair. “Don’t you, bonnie?”

Simon pierces Johnny with a look. It’s smothered by the way you moan appreciatively around his cock.

Johnny chuckles hoarsely. “Aye, she does.”

And then he pushes your head forward—slowly but ever so demanding. You comply, following Johnny’s lead, until your nose is buried in Simon’s curls and your eyes are shining.

You gag around him. Simon smacks a fist on the bed.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He’s quick to recollect his bearings and uses his thumb to wipe a tear down your cheek. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, and he takes that attempt at a smile as eager consent. One he makes sure to have, once again, by cocking his head inquisitively—you nod, or try to, and he sighs. Gently, Simon smooths the hair away from your forehead in silent thankfulness.

“Fuckin’ hell, alrigh’.” Johnny grunts, too focused on the sight of Simon’s cock disappearing in your mouth to notice the silent communication happening. He speeds the movement of his hand, tugging at the foreskin right above his glans. “How's she feel, L.T.? Gimme the details.”

“Shut up.”

“Nuh-uh,” Johnny tuts. “Ye gotta tell me—been selfish with her for too long. I get why, but don’t keep me in the dark now, uh? Feel like we're past that."

You start bobbing your head, gently guided by Johnny’s hand, while holding onto Simon’s thighs. He feels completely corded, like a rope ready to snap.

This is not what he thought would happen when you offered to have Johnny over for dinner.

But fuck it if he's going to complain.

Your head is cradled everywhere around it like it’s something precious and fragile—Johnny’s hand at the back, Simon’s palms now both at your cheeks.

“She’s warm.” He replies flatly, burying grunts and growls deep in his chest.

“Aye—coulda guessed that.” Johnny huffs. “Elaborate, will ye?”

It’s then that you shift your head from side to side to accustom your jaw to his girth. Simon’s tip touches somewhere deep down your throat, and you choke around it. Your nostrils flare, and your eyes drown in tears Simon catches with his thumbs.

“Fuck—” He grunts, rolling his eyes. “She—she’s fuckin’ melting me, Johnny. Tha’ enough?”

“Yeah?” Johnny croaks. “Takin’ you deep—aye, sir?”

“’Firmative.”

“Can see ye bulgin’ down her throat,” he says, and Simon feels the sick need to go and check with his thumb. God help him, Johnny’s right.

“She’s tight.” Simon pants.

“Bet she is,” Johnny croaks. “Can’t wait to feel her myself. Right, hen?”

Simon watches you struggle to find a way to reply. You can’t speak because your mouth is busy elsewhere; you can’t nod, or you’ll choke. You opt for your hands, wrapping one around Johnny’s thigh and squeeze, digging your fingernails into the denim of his jeans. He stumbles forward, just a tad closer.

Johnny rewards you by massaging your scalp with his pads, a hoarse hum of approval passing through his lips.

“Trained her right, L.T.” He chuckles.

Simon gives him a look that would normally freeze him on the spot, but it only prompts Johnny to stiffen and bite back a moan.

“Didn’t train her, you twat.” Simon huffs gruffly, giving a tender brush of his thumb on your cheek as you work your mouth down his shaft. “She ain’t a dog.”

Johnny’s smirk falters, but Simon’s sure it’s not because he’s being reprimanded by his lieutenant but because he’s on the verge of finishing. Judging by the heavy furrow of his brow, he clearly doesn’t want to—not yet.

“Aye she ain’t.” He agrees, voice cracked and breathy. “But she’s a learner. Look at how she takes ye—that ain’t talent, can’t be.”

Johnny winks at you when he catches you struggling to look up.

You huff from your nose, rolling your eyes fondly. His lips quirk, and he softens you up by grazing his nails down your scalp until your skin rises in goosebumps.

You push your head back against Johnny’s hand, and he takes that as a sign to go on.

“That’s fuckin' hard work, right there.” He growls, and then guides your head down Simon’s cock once again. His thighs tighten under your fingertips, spine straight and knotted when you swallow him all the way down.

“Careful, Johnny.” Simon warns through gritted teeth. Even though he’s on the verge of toppling over, his voice still sounds delightfully rich—stern and commanding.

Then, he directs his eyes to you.

Yours soften, probably because his cheeks are awfully pink, and the crinkles of his eyes stretch in that way he reserves for you only. “Alrigh’?

You hum in reply, blinking up at him with clumped lashes and happy, bloodshot eyes.

“Three taps on my thigh when you need, yeah?” He says. “Go on.”

You tap Simon’s thigh three times. He brushes his thumb down your cheek before placing his hand over Johnny’s wrist at the back of your head.

He squeezes it until his knuckles turn white, and then he nods his way. Johnny swallows a rock lodged in his throat when he meets Simon's hooded gaze.

“Go on, Johnny.” His hand on your cheek remains soft and soothing, but his eyes, locked on Johnny’s flushed face, hold a darkness you’re not allowed to see.

“Make me cum."

Hey!!! We officially reached 1k people so I thought I'd scare you away with some filthy smut.

I love you all. Truly. Thank you for being here and making my days 10 times better.

-theo 🦊

2K notes · View notes

girlrotterr · 3 months ago

Text

꒰ lick it up, fucking eat. ⭒

married!ellie x interior designer! reader Summary: Ellie hires you to bring her shitty wife’s so-called "dream home" to life, but you end up fufilling something else.

The house was silent, save for the low hum of the air conditioning, which flowed through the sprawling, half-renovated living room. You stood in front of a swatch of paint samples, holding each one up to the fading light from the bay window. The sun dipped low, casting golden fingers across the unfinished floorboards, hinting at what the space might look like when it was finally complete. Ellie watched you from across the room, leaning casually against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her gaze drifting between you and the wall.

“That one,” she muttered, jerking her chin toward the beige sample you held. Her voice was laced with something close to disdain. “She thinks it’s ‘elegant.’ "

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the shade—a flat, muted tone that felt as lifeless as the drywall it would cover. "Well," you replied, “if she wants ‘elegant,’ I’m sure we can do more than beige."

Ellie’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, a glint of something both dark and playful in them. She pushed off the wall, coming a little closer, her boots scuffing against the rough wood. "Exactly what I was thinking," she murmured, her gaze lingering on you a second too long before shifting to the wall.

You let out a quiet breath, suddenly very aware of the way her presence filled the room, heavy and warm, with a pull that seemed to demand attention. Her sleeves were pushed up, revealing her tattooed forearm—faintly smudged paint stains and a few scratches etched across her knuckles. Her messy hair fell into her eyes, and she brushed it away, glancing down at the floorboards as if they might give her the answers she was looking for.

“So… if it were completely up to you,” she continued, her voice softer now, “what would you do with the place?”

You felt a small jolt of excitement, surprised that she cared enough to ask your opinion. You took a slow breath, letting yourself look around the room with fresh eyes. "Something warm, to make the room feel alive. Maybe custom furniture, something that doesn’t look like it’s from a catalog."

She nodded slowly, her gaze following yours as you spoke, but there was something deeper, something unspoken in the way she looked at you. Like this wasn’t about the walls or the furniture.

"We could go for that," she said, and her voice dropped, quiet, the weight of her words sinking into the empty space between you. "Anything that makes this place feel less… hers."

Your heart fluttered at the faint edge of bitterness in her voice, the quiet rebellion hiding beneath her sarcasm. She was closer now, close enough that you could feel her warmth radiating toward you in the cooling room, close enough that you could see every detail of her: the subtle flecks of green in her eyes, the faint line of a scar near her temple.

You reached out, brushing your fingers over a scratch on the windowsill. "This place could be incredible. It just needs to feel lived in, loved.”

Ellie swallowed, her eyes following your hand. “Can you fullfill that?,” she murmured, and there was a softness in her voice now, something that made your stomach flip.

Your breath caught, pulse quickening as you felt the subtle shift in the air between you. The moment held a thread of tension, tight and fragile, like something waiting to be snapped. You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’d love to show you. Just need a little… freedom with the choices.”

Ellie’s smirk returned, faint but laced with something deeper, "Freedom, huh?" She stepped back, giving you a lingering once-over before nodding, her voice a low murmur. "Yeah… I think we can work something out."

She pulled her gaze away reluctantly, as if forcing herself to break the spell, and you felt the strange tug of her absence, the fading warmth of her presence as she retreated toward the hallway. "Just… no beige," she added, her back already turned, her voice drifting down the hall like an invitation.

You stood there, the glow of the setting sun washing over you, you realized you felt a thrill.

The days passed in a blur of decisions, late-night calls with suppliers, and a dozen small, carefully calculated adjustments to make the space feel warmer, more vibrant—despite the rigid input from Ellie’s wife. You’d spent the afternoon with her, going over fixture placements and fabric swatches. She was precise, clinical, every suggestion an opportunity to correct, to refine, to turn down anything that dared to stand out.

Ellie’s wife stood in the middle of the room, studying the sofa with a critical eye. She let out a sigh, her fingers skimming over the velvet, dismissing it as though it were somehow beneath her. “I thought I made it clear I wanted something more sophisticated. This feels… almost flashy.” Her gaze landed on you, thinly veiled irritation simmering beneath her smile.

You opened your mouth to explain the intention behind the choice when the front door opened. Ellie walked in, still in her work clothes, a slight weariness to her step. Her gaze moved from you to her wife.

Ellie’s wife immediately turned to her, her posture stiffening. “There you are. I was just telling our designer here that this,” she gestured to the room around her with an air of distaste, “is not what we discussed.”

Ellie’s face tightened, a frustrated, almost exasperated look clouding her eyes. “ A little color wouldn’t kill you.”

“Yes, but I expected you’d listen to what I actually wanted.” She crossed her arms, her gaze pointed. “This was supposed to be tasteful, Ellie. Not… whatever this is.”

Ellie let out a dry laugh, brushing past her, stepping closer to you as she took in the room. “And by ‘tasteful,’ you mean dull walls and soulless furniture. Right?”

Her wife’s eyes flashed, and she folded her arms tighter. “It’s not my fault you don’t understand the concept of refinement.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched, her hand flexing at her side. “God, do you even hear yourself? It’s a fucking home, not a damn workplace. Just—" she glanced over at you, her face softening briefly as if realizing you were caught in the middle. "Never mind.”

You held your breath, feeling the tension swell, a raw kind of frustration radiating between them. But Ellie’s wife was relentless, her voice sharp and dismissive. “Oh, here we go again. You act like I’m asking for something ridiculous. Just admit it—you’re the one who’s never satisfied. You’re the one who thinks everything has to be some big, meaningful statement. Not everything’s about you, Ellie!”

Ellie’s face flushed, her eyes flashing with something dangerously close to anger. She opened her mouth, then closed it, a defeated breath slipping past her lips as she seemed to reconsider. She cast one last glance at you, and you felt that familiar pull between you—a silent, unspoken understanding—and then, with a shake of her head, Ellie stormed off, her shoes echoing down the hallway until the door slammed behind her.

Silence swallowed the room, leaving you and her wife alone once more.

“See what I have to deal with?” she muttered, shaking her head. "She gets these weird ideas about what’s ‘creative’ or ‘cool’ and just… doesn’t listen to reason. She doesn’t even understand what it takes to make a space look sophisticated. Her taste—it’s like a teenager trying to decorate a dorm room."

You felt your grip tighten on the sample book, but you forced yourself to stay professional. “Well, Ellie did mention she wanted something with a bit more character.”

Her wife snorted, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh. “Exactly. Character. She’s so out of touch with what a home needs to feel welcoming. She can’t just accept that maybe—just maybe—she doesn’t know better than me.”

She flipped past a deep, velvety forest green swatch Ellie had specifically loved. “This green? I mean, it’s hideous. Who even wants a dark color like that in their home? It’s depressing.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the swatch she’d just discarded. “It could add some depth to the space. Sometimes dark colors bring a warmth that—”

Her wife gave you a sharp look, like you’d crossed some invisible line. She forced a tight smile. “Trust me,” she said, voice dripping with condescension, “there’s nothing to ‘deepen’ here. I know what I want, and I don’t need Ellie’s… outlandish tastes cluttering up my vision.”

The house had transformed into a hive of activity, buzzing with the sounds of hammers, paint rollers, and snippets of conversation as workers bustled around. Every corner of the room felt alive with movement, a stark contrast to the emptiness you’d felt days prior. Furniture was being hauled in, drapes were hung, and the walls were beginning to take on their new colors. Yet despite the flurry of activity, your attention was divided, searching the room more often than not for a familiar face.

And then, as if on cue, Ellie appeared.

She wove through the workers, carrying a crumpled paper bag in one hand and balancing two cups of coffee in the other. She wore a smile, her messy hair peeking out from under a faded baseball cap, a glimmer of excitement lighting up her face as she caught your eye. She slipped between a worker with a paint can and another adjusting a lamp, until finally, she stopped in front of you.

Ellie held up the bag with a faint smile. “Thought you could use a break,” she said, nudging the bag into your hands. “There’s a place around the corner that makes delicious pastries.”

Surprised and a little touched, you opened the bag, the warm, sweet scent wafting out immediately. “Thank you.”

The noise of the workers faded into a distant hum, becoming a mere backdrop to the moment as you took a bite of the pastry. The warm sweetness melted on your tongue, rich and comforting, drawing a soft sigh from your lips. But in your enjoyment, you didn’t notice the crumb that fell, catching just at the corner of your lips.

Ellie did, though.

In the midst of all the clamor—the sharp buzz of saws cutting through wood, the metallic clinking of hammers striking nails, and the sound of her wife’s sharp voice scolding a worker about the paint application—Ellie stepped closer, her expression suddenly serious.

Her fingers were careful, warm, and impossibly soft as they brushed the crumb from your lips. You felt her fingertip linger there, feather-light, barely skimming your skin, but enough to make your breath catch.

Her gaze held yours, deep green eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion that pulled you in. Ellie’s fingers felt electric against your skin, her knuckles resting against your cheek, the warmth radiating from her touch contrasting with the cool air of the room. Ellie’s eyes dropped for just a heartbeat, shifting from your gaze to your mouth, where her thumb hovered near your lip. You could feel your heart racing, each beat echoing in your ears as she lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

You could hear her breath hitch slightly as her fingers finally pulled away, leaving your skin cold in their absence.

“Fuck” she murmured, voice low and just a little hoarse. Her gaze drifted to your lips one last time, almost on purpose, before she forced her eyes to focus anywhere but on you.

You remember when the affair began.

It was a cold winter, the kind that seeped into your bones, making everything feel heavy and muffled. Snow blanketed the world outside, a serene white glow through the window.

Ellie was pressed against you, her body radiating heat as she leaned in closer, her face achingly near yours. You could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with the cool air between you. Her hands flexed around your hips, desperate to grip them, to anchor herself to you.

There was a desperation.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” She pleaded, her voice strained, a wish that perhaps if you rejected her, if you spoke the words she needed to hear, the desires swirling for you would vanish.

But as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch, the world around you blurred. A shiver raced down your spine, igniting something deep within you—a spark that flared into a flame, daring you to give in.

“I need you,” Ellie breathed, the urgency in her voice sending warmth pooling in your stomach. Her words ghosted over your skin, leaving a trail of heat that made it impossible to think straight. “I need to feel you, to taste you. Please, let me have you…”

You could see it in her eyes—the hunger, the need.

Your lips touched Ellie’s, slowly, tentatively at first. You hesitated for a moment, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation, any hint that this was a mistake. But all you found was a dark hunger reflected in her gaze, a need that mirrored your own. The soft sound of falling snow outside barely registered as you leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her body.

Ellie’s lips then pressed against yours, slow and soft, “Oh, fuck.” she gasped, her breath warm against your mouth.

It was all you needed.

You kissed her again, this time deeper and more sensual, losing yourself in the taste of her. Every brush of your lips was a question, every stroke of your tongue an answer. Savoring the way her tongue stroked against yours with caresses that left you breathless.

“God, you taste amazing,” she murmured against your lips. The way she spoke made you feel seen, desired, as if every part of you was exactly what she craved.

“Ellie…” you breathed, her name slipped from your lips so easily.

Ellie’s kisses grew more urgent, each one a desperate plea for more as her hands gripped your hips with bruising force, anchoring you against the wall. Her lips trailed down your neck, gasping as her teeth grazed over your skin. And then, without warning, she sucked hard, her mouth forming a seal against your neck.

“Oh fuck..” you breathed, your voice aching to be more than a whisper.

Ellie was already lost in her own world, her focus entirely on you, on the way your body responded to her touch.

"Shhh, we need to be quiet," she whispered, her voice low with need, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, pupils dilated with lust, a fiery spark that made your stomach knot.

Her hands wandered down your body, fingers tracing the contours of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as she pulled you closer, digging into your skin and leaving dents where her grip tightened.

"God, I can’t get enough of you." she breathed, her hands slipping to unbutton your jeans. Her fingers teased the waistband of your panties, dipping just beneath the fabric to caress your folds, igniting a heat through you. She kissed and nipped at your neck, her tongue flicking out to taste your sweat-slicked skin.

Her hand slid further into your panties, her fingers parting your slick folds to stroke your sensitive clit. You gasped, your mouth agape as she circled the swollen nub with a feather-light touch. Her other hand slid up your body, cupping your tit and kneading the soft mound. Her fingers found your hardened nipple, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between her thumb and index finger.

"Oh fuck.." you hiccuped, “please.."

Leaning down, ellie’s hot breath hovered over your sensitive skin before she took your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. She moaned against your nipple, her tongue flicking against the hardened bud as she sucked hard, her teeth grazing your skin, making you gasp.

"Ellie," you begged, your voice strained with need. "I need more.”

Her eyes darkened with lust as she gazed at you, turned on by your desperate pleas. "Beg for it," she groaned, her voice low. Ellie's fingers stroked your slick folds, teasing your entrance but not yet delving inside. She circled your clit with light touches, making you buck your hips, seeking more friction.

“Please," you moaned. "Please, fuck me."

Apparently she didn’t need much convincing.

With an urgency, Ellie plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaking cunt, curling them upward to stroke that sensitive spot inside you. The lewd sound of your juices squelching filled the air as she pumped her fingers in and out, stroking your inner walls with each thrust, her thumb rubbing soft circles around your aching clit.

"Atta girl.." Ellie groaned, her voice thick with desire. "Ride my fucking fingers."

"fuuck, right there," you moaned, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You reached down to slide your hand to unbutton ellie’s jeans. Her belt clinking as her hips bucked forward. Your fingers crept beneath the waistband of her boxers, feeling the slick flesh of her dripping hole.

"Fuuck me," Ellie moaned, grinding her hips against your hand, spreading her thighs wider to give you more access to her aching cunt. Her movements were desperate, urging you to rub her swollen clit, the sensitive nub pulsing beneath your touch.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she groaned, her perky tits bouncing slightly with each thrust. Her head rolling back in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself.

"Yes, just like that," You moaned, ellie’s fingers pumping faster in and out of your dripping cunt. She could feel your slick coating her fingers, your juices dripping down her wrist. Your hips jerked erratically, your stomach beginning to knot. With a sharp cry, you came, your pussy spasming around her fingers as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, cum for me," she moaned, rubbing your clit faster to prolong your pleasure. "Come all over my fucking fingers." Your body shuddered, your walls clenching around her as you milked her fingers for all they were worth. She could feel your juices gushing out, coating her hand and dripping onto the floor. Your moans filled the room, echoing obscenely off the walls.

Ellie slowly withdrew her fingers, feeling your walls clench around her as she pulled them out. Your juices coated her hand, glistening in the low light of the room.

She grabbed your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband, shimmying her boxers down her thighs before stepping out of them. Ellie's pussy was glistening, she parted her folds to reveal her throbbing clit. She straddled your face, her dripping cunt hovering just above your mouth

“Fuck I -" Ellie moaned, grinding her hips down to press her pussy against your lips. “Fucking taste me.” Ellie's juices coated your mouth as you flicked your tongue out, lathering it along her slick folds before delving inside her dripping hole. Ellie's poor thighs trembled, her hands gripping your hair as she rode your face frantically, bringing her fingers to her lips, sucking your slick off of them with a low moan.

“You’re so fucking good," She groaned, her juices coating your mouth, dripping down your chin.

"That's it, right there," Ellie panted, her thighs trembling around your head. "Fuck, your tongue feels so good." Her hands gripped your hair, pulling you closer as she rutted against your mouth.

"That's it, fuck, I'm gonna cum-," Ellie moaned, her hips jerking erratically. You plunged two fingers deep into Ellie's soaked cunt, her walls clenching around quickly, her juices gushing out. You sucked ellie's clit faster, feeling it twitch beneath your tounge as she came.

“What the fuck!?” ellie’s wife excalimed.

She had walked in, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the scene before her.

Ellie was still straddling your face, her dripping pussy pressed against your mouth. The obsecene sounds of slurping and moaning filled the room, leaving no doubt as to what had been happening.

You remember when the affair began.

You remember when the affair ended.

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader

2K notes · View notes

leia-writes · 30 days ago

Note

not sure if you’ve wrote this before but Frontmanxfem reader maybe she’s like nervous for him to go down on her and he reassures her🥹

Movement

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: movement by hozier

note: thanks for your request!! I'm so happy to finally be writing again. more to come with season 2 out!

warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY

word count: 2,998

posted on: 1/4/2025

“Fuck!” you exclaimed under your breath, elevator doors closing in front of you. You pressed the button to your floor and impatiently waited for the elevator to take you to your residence. As soon as the doors opened, you ripped your mask off and stormed down the hallway.

You passed the main living room, furnished with two leather chairs facing a large screen and a table with a half drunk glass of whiskey on it. Another mask like yours laid neatly on the table next to the glass. You hurled yours across the room in a fit of rage.

Storming into the nearby kitchen, you saw In-ho pouring a glass of your favorite wine.

“I hope that’s for me,” you sighed as you approached In-ho.

He gave you a sympathetic look and handed you the glass. “I heard what happened.”

You finished the glass off in a few seconds, slamming it down on the counter. In-ho approached your hunched over figure but you stood straight again, pointing at him.

“I could kill them all. Every last one of them,” you seethed.

He knew exactly who you were talking about, and gave you a soft, pitying look. “I know, I know you could. You’d be really good at it too.” He caressed your cheek as he praised you, a playful smirk flashing across his face for a moment.

You huffed, rolling your eyes but softening at his affection. “I’m fucking serious. I’m done with these pretentious assholes.”

Before you joined In-ho in your shared residence that evening, you’d spent your entire day with the VIPs. Handling impossible requests and battling egos was the most insufferable part of your job. You’d run around so much that day trying to appease every demand that you could’ve probably traversed every inch of the island in the same amount of time.

In-ho spent the day in Seoul, working with the recruiter to find the next batch of players, and was therefore spared from dealing with the VIPs. Your muscles ached with fatigue and jealousy.

In-ho embraced you, stroking your hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure you don’t see them for a while, alright?” You sighed heavily in response, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his warm torso.

He smiled as you melted into his touch. “My poor darling. Let me make you feel better.”

He swiftly picked you up and carried you to one of the leather chairs in the main room, setting you down gently in front of him. Before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, distracting you from the tension that wracked your body and mind.

In-ho leaned over you, pressing your back to the chair. You gently pulled away. “In-ho, I-”

He gently pressed a finger over your mouth, caressing your cheek. “Shh, just let me take care of you now, alright?”

You sighed as he dipped his head down to kiss your neck, your skin becoming flushed and warm. He brought a hand down your side, gently starting to coax your shirt upwards.

You knew exactly what he was after - you’d done this for him more times than you could count. The job you two held was a difficult one, and you had no problem being an outlet of stress relief for each other.

He brought his hands to your pants, carefully undoing the buttons and lowering the zipper, before slowly dipping his hand into your underwear. He released himself from your neck and looked at you, gauging your reactions.

You leaned forward and kissed him hard as his hand dipped into your warm core, soaking his fingers as he explored you. He groaned at the warm wetness on his fingers. You sighed, desperate for more, but a confused feeling of embarrassment was starting to cloud your lustful thoughts.

He brought his hand from your core to his mouth, obscenely tasting your juices on his fingers. He groaned, a sound that would’ve normally made you feral but instead made you feel vulnerable. You felt your breath catch in your throat, unsure of how to react.

He roughly grasped the waist of your pants and began pulling them down before you grabbed his hand to stop them. He immediately looked at you with concern.

Your face flushed red with embarrassment. “I… I’m, uh…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, not that, I just… I…” You internally slapped yourself for sounding so stupid.

He playfully smirked at you. “You know I’ve seen it, right? There’s no need to be so bashful.”

You scoffed. Of course you’d known that. You’d had sex with him many times before, that was nothing new. But having his fingers on you, and the thought of having his face down there, made you more self-conscious than you knew how to deal with. In the past, you’d redirect his attention elsewhere quickly to avoid dealing with the imaginary shame you might feel.

And that’s exactly what you planned to do now.

“I know… I’m just too tense right now. I’m sorry.” You started pulling your pants back up, looking down in guilt.

He quickly tilted your face towards him, giving you a concerned look and caressing your face. “It’s alright, darling. You don’t have to be sorry.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to take a hot bath?”

“Yes."

~~~

After taking your relaxing hot bath and washing the day’s stress away, you climbed into your shared bed with In-ho. You already felt a million times better. In-ho was immersed in a book he was reading, but wrapped his arm around you when you climbed into bed next to him.

“Are you feeling better?”

You gave him a happy, dazed smile. “Very much so.”

He smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead, diverting his attention back to his book. You grabbed the one you were currently reading and began to do the same next to him.

After a short while of getting comfortable in bed, your thoughts began to wander as you read. You thought about In-ho touching you before, how good it felt and sounded to you. The overwhelming embarrassment and anxiety you felt at the time was now closer to a distant memory. You felt much more comfortable in your body, more intrigued than embarrassed about the thought of In-ho’s mouth on you.

You felt the familiar flush in your skin again and set your book down. Warmth was spreading throughout your body but you weren’t sure how to express what you wanted, so you snuggled up to In-ho, resting your arm on his chest.

He glanced at you as he read. “Getting tired?”

“No, you’re just so warm.” A believable lie.

He smiled and continued to read, oblivious to the dirty thoughts starting to cloud your mind. You wanted him bad. How was he not able to read your mind and know exactly what you wanted at that moment? You glanced at him quickly and started playing with the hem of his shirt, hoping he’d get some sort of hint from your mixed signals.

In-ho eyed your hands on his shirt and set his book down. “What are you thinking about, darling?” He had a naughty glint in his eye, suspecting he knew what you might be after.

At the first glance from him, your newfound confidence faltered. “Nothing. Just laying here with you.” You feigned innocence - but he knew better.

He turned his body towards you, your hand unintentionally slipping underneath his shirt. “Nothing at all?”

“Nope. Nothing.” You began to gently caress his warm skin, avoiding eye contact.

He gently sighed at your touch. “Hm. You don’t want anything?”

You gave him a pleading look but couldn’t bring yourself to say anything except for a quiet hum.

He leaned forward to kiss you, gently, before slightly pulling back, testing how much you wanted. You quickly leaned forward to return his kiss, deeper and more needy, twisting the hem of his shirt in your hands.

He sighed and pushed you on your back, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss even further. After a few moments, he pulled back, observing your beautifully flushed face.

“Do you want me to make you feel better? Like before?”

Your breath hitched again, and all you could muster was a small nod, silently begging for his lips to be on yours again.

He crashed his lips into yours, kissing you more fervently now, and positioned himself completely above you. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gently tugging, eliciting delicious, soft moans from his throat. It drove you insane.

You wanted so badly for him to feel good, for him to enjoy every second with you, it was hard to understand how he’d want to solely focus on you and your pleasure. You know he’d do anything for you… but your own self-doubt clouded your mind in these moments.

As if he knew what you were thinking, In-ho pulled away and looked at you with a fierce intention.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “But… you have before.”

“Not like this. Not like I’ve wanted to. Not like you deserve.”

He gently rubbed your cheek, hoping you could feel the sincerity in his words. It felt like your heart was in your throat, you could barely express how he made you feel in that moment. Your eyebrows furrowed and you leaned towards him for a harsh, needy kiss before guiding his hand to your underwear.

Without any pants on, he swiftly pulled your underwear down, leaning back in front of your raised knees as he pulled the blanket off. He placed his hands on your legs to spread them, but the sudden exposure made you feel vulnerable and hesitant for a moment, and you froze.

You let out a pitiful moan, your body conflicted on what to do. In-ho gently caressed your legs and leaned forward, giving you a sweet kiss.

“Let me make you feel better.” He echoed from before.

You silently nodded and spread your legs, and In-ho quickly settled his head in between them. He gently kissed around your inner thigh, taking his time on each side, intentionally avoiding your wet, aching core. Although you couldn’t ignore the involuntary waves of self-consciousness, you focused on the anticipation rising throughout your body, your need for his mouth to be on you.

In-ho’s mouth hovered over your core, the sensation of his hot breath on you driving you crazy. You squirmed beneath him as he placed a firm arm over your stomach.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he instructed. He paused for a moment, as if waiting for your permission.

The moment you looked down at him, he placed his mouth on you, his tongue flat on your core, gently sucking.

The sudden wave of pleasure immediately wracked your body. You threw your head back with a surprised moan, your hands instantly grabbing at the sheets.

In-ho groaned loudly in satisfaction, as if he’d been hungry for you his whole life and just now, finally, got a taste. You felt his groan through your sensitive clit, making your hips twitch under his movements. He continued to work his tongue over your clit and your aching entrance, tasting every inch of you, relishing in your gasps and moans.

You felt possessed, unable to control your sounds and movements as he all but consumed you. His hands grasped at your sides, your thighs, anything he could get his hands on. You felt yourself relax into this position and spread your legs further, wanting more and more of him.

He kept his mouth on you as he splayed his hands on the back of your thighs, pressing them down, following your lead and spreading you out even further for him. You looked down again at him ravenously devouring you, the sight of it almost undoing you.

You cried out in pleasure, starting to twitch and grind beneath him, feeling like your release could come at any moment now. You’d never felt like it had been this easy before. In-ho briefly stopped to look at you, a slight, satisfied grin on his face.

“You’re doing so well. Do you feel good, darling?”

You let out a soft cry. “Yes.” You gave him a needy, pleading look.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

The thought of it made you clench, you could barely make out words. “Mhm.”

His head was spinning with those obscene sounds you were making. “Good. I want you to cum on my face, okay?”

You cried out in pleasure and frustration, and pushed his head back on you, gripping his hair for dear life. He groaned at your unrelenting neediness, just egging you on even further to the edge.

You felt your body chasing release, pressing In-ho’s face to your aching cunt, grinding beneath him, using him solely for your pleasure. His incessant moans seemed to vibrate throughout your entire being, setting your skin on fire, bringing tears to your eyes.

With a few more swipes of his tongue, you came absolutely undone beneath him.

You felt a white hot wave of pleasure explode from your core, your muscles involuntarily shaking, and you cried out in pleasure and pure emotional release. Tears flowed down your face as you allowed the pleasure to take over, allowed yourself to feel good. In-ho diligently kept his mouth on you as you rode out your orgasm.

As you slowly came to consciousness, In-ho leaned back and watched you, all of you. You wiped the tears from your eyes and watched him in a daze. He was completely enamored by you, his hands wandering from your thighs to your core, spreading his fingers over your sensitive clit and your aching entrance.

You suddenly felt… empty. Quietly whimpering, you grabbed his wrist, keeping his fingers on you, silently begging for more. He gave you a bewildered look.

“Did that feel good?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You pressed his fingers further towards your entrance.

His eyes darkened. “Hm. Do you want more, darling?”

You nodded again. Even though you felt spent from your orgasm, you couldn’t deny the aching need to feel him inside you.

“So needy, hm? You can’t get enough, is that right? Need something to fill you up too?”

You looked away and groaned, a mixture of embarrassment and desire swirling in your mind.

“Please,” you whispered.

In-ho slowly moved to hover over you, gently turning your head towards him.

“Tell me what you want.”

You whimpered, kissing him and reaching for the prominent bulge in his underwear. You could feel his cock straining against the fabric. In-ho groaned above you, his cock painfully aching to feel you.

He let out a harsh breath through his teeth. “Fuck… do you feel what you’ve done to me?”

You continued to massage him, feel him twitch under your fingers, his moans becoming more reckless every second. You felt all your senses go on edge again, responding to every single sound he made. He quickly swatted your hand away and pulled his underwear down.

“If you keep doing that I won’t last much longer,” he breathed out, his voice hoarse and primal. He quickly lined his cock with your entrance and thrusted into you, your hips meeting his thrust and your warmth enveloping him completely.

He stopped for a second, too overwhelmed to move. You were so deliciously warm, your flesh so sensitive from before. The feeling of his cock stretching you made a wave of pleasure sink into your body and you couldn’t help but let out a feral moan.

In-ho leaned himself further over you, pressing your legs up, and began to pound into you relentlessly. You grabbed at his arms and shoulders, any part of him you could hold onto as he fucked you through the bed. He was relentless in his movements, completely focused on the pleasure building between the two of you.

He roughly grabbed your jaw. “Fuck… I could’ve come undone just watching you before.”

You cried out beneath him, clenching on his cock as he fucked you with a determined pace.

He continued. “That pretty fucking pussy, clenching and gushing just for me… you loved it, didn’t you?”

You moaned and nodded.

“That’s right,” he huffed. “My pretty fucking girl loves to cum on my face, doesn’t she?”

His words send shockwaves throughout your body, and you could only cry out and continue nodding.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his pace quickening. You could tell he was close.

“Fuck. And you’re gonna cum on my cock now, aren’t you?”

You squeezed your eyes. “Yes, fuck, yes I’m going to right now I-”

You felt the familiar wave of pleasure crash over your entire body again, your walls clenching on In-ho’s cock as he stuttered in his pace. You cried out, feeling In-ho release himself inside of you with a loud, guttural groan. He thrusted into you slowly, chasing any remnants of pleasure for both of you as you both calmed down. You held each other close, heavy breaths slowing into satisfied sighs.

In-ho laid down next to you and pulled you to him, kissing the side of your face and brushing his fingers through your hair. Your entire body felt exhausted, but not like before.

In-ho leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Are you alright now?”

You sleepily nodded. “Yes. Very much so.”

He smiled, satisfied, and rested his head near yours. As he stroked your head, he whispered.

“You know I would do anything for you, right?”

You gave him a concerned look. “Of course.”

He looked at you fiercely. “So don’t be afraid to ask for what you want.”

You sighed, almost pouting. After a few moments, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled, pulling you close and the blanket over you two, both of you quickly falling into a satisfied slumber.

#front man x reader #hwang in ho x reader #frontman x reader #hwang in-ho x reader #hwang inho x reader #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game fanfic #frontman #front man #hwang inho #hwang in-ho #hwang in ho #reader insert #fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

orangeblossomsintheair · 1 month ago

Text

LIONHEART (2/3) – LN4

summary : lando's journey as a dad.

wc : 12k

an : lionheart was supposed to be a 2-parter but i hit the maximum wc for a post so i guess it's gonna have one more part 😭 not the most linear progression and not beta-read !

It had to be some kind of cosmic joke, you thought to yourself, the more you watched your son grow up.

Nine months of carrying him, swollen feet, back pain, cravings, and sleepless nights, only for him to come out as an exact replica of his father.

Had your genes even tried?

Your son was all Lando.

The wild mop of curls that defied gravity, his sun-kissed skin, that cheeky gap-toothed smile, and those bright aquamarine eyes that twinkled with mischief.

His resemblance to your husband was so uncanny that even Cisca, your mother-in-law, couldn’t stop commenting on it.

“It’s like going back in time,” she said one afternoon, watching your son dart around her garden, pretending to race with his toy car. “He’s exactly how Lando was at his age.”

She paused to chuckle. “And just as much of a handful.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” you replied, sipping your tea with a tired smile. “I think the universe decided one Lando wasn’t enough, so now I’ve got two.”

Cisca patted your hand, laughing softly. “Well, you’re doing a wonderful job. Raising a mini Lando is no small feat, trust me.”

"Speaking of small," you quipped, watching your son determinedly try to drift his bulky toy car, tongue sticking out as he put his weight onto the steering wheel. "He’s just as tiny as his dad was, isn’t he?"

Cisca laughed, the sound warm and familiar as she watched her grandson’s antics. “Oh, absolutely. Lando was always the smallest in his class. It drove him mad. He’d come home every week asking me to measure him, convinced he’d finally grown an inch overnight.”

You snorted, imagining a pint-sized, gap-toothed Lando standing against a wall, demanding to see the ruler. “That sounds about right. Let me guess, he overcompensated by being the loudest kid in the room?”

Cisca nodded with a fond smile. “Loudest and most dramatic,” she added, her eyes twinkling. “He had this knack for turning every little scrape or fall into an Oscar-worthy performance.”

As if on cue, your son’s car lost its balance, and he tumbled to the ground, landing on his side but throwing his arms out dramatically.

“I crashed!” he wailed, flopping onto his back for full effect. “Someone call my pit crew!”

You buried your face in your hands with a groan, trying not to laugh, while Cisca chuckled beside you.

“And there it is. Just like his father.”

Lando chose that exact moment to walk into the garden, a drink in hand, eyebrows raised as he surveyed the scene. “What’s going on here?”

“Your mini-me just reenacted your entire childhood,” you replied, nodding toward your son, who was now lying in the grass, muttering something about needing new tires.

Your son immediately perked up, pointing at his completely intact toy car. “The wheel came off, and the engine’s making weird noises!”

Lando grinned, sauntering over and crouching down next to his son. “Alright, mate, what’s the damage?”

“Hm, sounds serious,” Lando said, nodding solemnly. “We’ll have to get you back in the garage. Can you make it?”

Your son nodded fiercely, throwing his arms around Lando’s neck as he scooped him up effortlessly. Watching them, you couldn’t help but smile.

—

Raising Lando Norris’s mini-me had been a chaotic blend of exhaustion, love, and endless laughter. From the moment your son came into the world, Lando had been there, fumbling his way into fatherhood with all the charm and clumsiness that only he could manage.

The first night at home was chaos.

Your son cried nonstop, his tiny lungs working overtime as the sound echoed through the house.

You were sprawled on the couch, clutching a pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to sanity. Every muscle in your body ached from exhaustion, and you could barely lift your head to look at Lando, who was pacing the living room.

“I’ve got this,” Lando announced confidently, his voice momentarily louder than the wails of your newborn.

He cradled your son in his arms, gently swaying back and forth. “Alright, buddy, what’s wrong? You hungry? Tired? Bored? Yeah, same, honestly.”

“Lando,” you groaned, muffled by the pillow, “he’s a baby, not a pit crew member.”

He ignored you, crouching slightly as he made exaggerated eye contact with your son. “Okay, listen, mate. I need some feedback here. Blink twice if you’re hungry. Cry louder if you’re overtired. Just... give me something to work with.”

Your son, predictably, kept crying, his tiny fists flailing in the air. Lando sighed dramatically. “Tough crowd. Alright, plan B.”

“Plan B?” you asked, lifting the pillow just enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

Without answering, Lando started bouncing lightly on his heels, his voice dropping into a soft hum.

At first, you couldn’t place the tune, but after a moment it hit you- he was humming the McLaren theme tune.

The one he used to play in the car after races, the one that made its way into every highlight reel.

“Are you seriously singing a racing anthem to our newborn?” you asked, your voice half-incredulous, half-amused.

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he replied, a teasing grin on his face. “Besides, it’s working.”

You blinked and realized, to your absolute shock, that Leo's cries were starting to fade. His tiny body relaxed slightly in Lando’s arms, the relentless wailing softening into hiccupping sobs.

“No way,” you muttered, sitting up straighter. “Are you some kind of baby whisperer now?”

Lando smirked, still swaying as he hummed softly to Leo. “What can I say? I’ve got a gift,” he said, casting a quick glance your way. “Or maybe it’s destiny. He’s clearly a McLaren fan already. Chip off the old block, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. “Destiny? You hummed one tune, and now you think he’s a fan for life?”

Lando shot you a playful grin, looking down at Leo, whose cries had softened into sleepy hiccups.

“See this? He’s calm now. That’s McLaren magic, love.” He paused, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “That’s right, little man. Team McLaren all the way. We’re a family of winners.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t let your Uncle Carlos hear you say that. He’ll be over here with Ferrari onesies faster than you can say pit stop.”

Lando laughed, rocking Leo gently as the baby’s eyelids fluttered. “Nah, no way. Right, Leo?” He leaned down, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t let Uncle Carlos fool you. Red’s not your color, mate. Papaya suits you better.”

“Lando,” you groaned, trying not to laugh. “He’s a baby, not a brand ambassador. He doesn’t even know what colors are yet!”

Lando shrugged, grinning as he paced the room. “Doesn’t matter. He’s got taste. I mean, look at him- calm, collected, already understanding the importance of good engineering.”

You finally let out a laugh, unable to keep a straight face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re welcome,” he shot back, shifting his grip to hold the baby closer to his chest. “Seriously, though. I think I’ve found my secret weapon. Next time he cries, I’ll just sing him some F1 radio clips. Maybe a little ‘box, box, box’ to calm him down.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “I can’t believe this. Our baby is going to grow up thinking pit stops are a lullaby.”

“Could be worse,” Lando said with a shrug. “He could think Formula 1 isn’t the best sport in the world. Now that would be tragic.”

“Lando,” you deadpanned, “please don’t turn our child into a walking race encyclopedia before he can even walk.”

“No promises,” he replied cheekily, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead as he finally, miraculously, drifted off to sleep. “But for now, I’ll settle for a good night’s sleep. For all of us.”

You leaned back against the couch, watching Lando as he gently carried your son to the bassinet. He moved carefully, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world—and, of course, he was. As he laid the baby down and tiptoed back to you, his goofy grin made your heart swell.

“See?” he whispered, sliding onto the couch beside you. “I told you I’ve got this.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Alright, Dad of the Year. Just don’t forget to get me some water next time.”

He winked. “Coming right up, love. Anything else? Snack? Back massage? Pit crew?”

You threw the pillow at him, but you were laughing too hard to aim properly.

—-

The next night wasn’t much better, Leo seemed to have developed a personal vendetta against sleep, and you were convinced he had some kind of sixth sense that detected the exact moment you closed your eyes. The instant your head hit the pillow, his cries filled the room, pulling you out of the haze of near-sleep.

You groaned, rolling over to see Lando already sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up in all directions like he’d just stepped out of a wind tunnel. He rubbed his face, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a pit crew strategy.

“I’ll get him,” he mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Stay here.”

But you were already sitting up, determined to share the burden. “No, I’ll go. You did the heavy lifting last night.”

Lando turned, his expression softening despite the exhaustion etched into his features. “Love, you carried Leo for nine months. I’ve got this.”

“You said that last night,” you countered, though your voice lacked the strength to argue properly.

“And I delivered, didn’t I?” he shot back with a teasing grin, standing and heading toward the bassinet before you could protest further.

You flopped back onto the mattress, listening to the soft sounds from nursery next door as Lando picked up your son and began his now-signature routine: the light bouncing, the exaggerated baby talk, and, of course, the humming. This time, the tune wasn’t the McLaren theme, it was his radio message after his first win.

“Let’s gooooo,” he whispered dramatically, his voice soft and playful. “Who’s a little legend? You are. That’s right. Just like Dad, huh? Winning every battle, even the ones against sleep.”

From your spot on the bed, you couldn’t help but smile. His ridiculousness was oddly endearing, and somehow, it worked. The cries began to fade again, replaced by soft hiccups and the occasional sniffle.

Lando returned a few minutes later, cradling your now-snoozing baby with a triumphant expression. “Another successful pit stop,” he declared, easing onto the bed beside you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head.

“Thank you,” he replied, deadpan, as if you’d just complimented his driving skills.

You sat up, peeking over his shoulder at the peaceful little face nestled against his chest. “You know, if this whole racing thing doesn’t pan out, you might have a future as a baby whisperer.”

He snorted. “Racing will always pan out. But if not, maybe I’ll open a sleep training clinic for newborns. ‘Lando’s Lullabies,’ what do you think?”

You smacked his arm lightly, though you couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. “I think you’re delusional from lack of sleep.”

“Probably,” he agreed, leaning his head against yours. “But hey, we’re surviving, right? That’s the real victory.”

You sighed, letting the warmth of his presence wrap around you. “Yeah. We’re surviving.”

“And thriving,” he added, glancing down at the baby. “Well, he’s thriving. We’re hanging by a thread, but that’s what parents do, right?”

“Right,” you murmured, the exhaustion temporarily eclipsed by a deep sense of gratitude. “We’ve got this.”

He grinned, his free arm pulling you close. “That’s the spirit, love. Now, go back to sleep. I’ll stay up a little longer, just in case.”

—-

(A few months later)

The weekend had finally arrived, and with it came a rare sense of relief as Lando’s parents pulled up to the house.

You were sitting on the couch with Leo cradled in your arms, his tiny fists wrapped around your finger.

Lando was sprawled next to you, his head resting on your shoulder, looking just as exhausted as you felt.

The door opened, and Lando's dad, Adam, stepped in first, his face lighting up the moment he saw Leo. “There’s my grandson! Hand him over, I’ve got this,” he said, already reaching out with eager arms.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not even a hello for us, Adam?”

“Hi, darling,” Adam replied quickly, flashing you a grin before focusing entirely on Leo. “Alright, little man. Granddad’s here. Let’s give your mum and dad a break, yeah?”

Lando’s mom, Cisca, followed closely behind, holding a casserole dish and a tote bag filled with who-knows-what. “And I’m here to make sure this house doesn’t fall apart. You two look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“We haven’t,” Lando said dramatically, sitting up and stretching. “Leo’s been practicing his lung capacity every night. Future Norris athlete in the making.”

“Alright, you two,” Cisca said, setting the bag down and clapping her hands. “You’re officially off duty. Go take a nap, watch a movie, do whatever it is you haven’t had the time to do. We’ve got this.”

“You don’t have to do all this,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. The idea of a nap, an uninterrupted nap, was already making your body ache in anticipation.

“Sweetheart,” Cisca said, her voice softening as she placed a hand on your arm. “This is what family is for. You’re doing an amazing job, but even superheroes need a break. Let us help.”

Cicsa moved away with a smile, already pulling on a pair of cleaning gloves. “Anyway, I’ve raised two boys and managed Adam. This is a piece of cake.”

“Hey!” Adam called over, bouncing Leo gently. “I resent that.”

“You love it,” Cisca shot back with a wink before turning to you. “Now, shoo. “

You hesitated, glancing at Lando. “Are you sure? The house is a mess, and Leo’s been fussy all morning. I don’t want to dump everything on you two.”

“Nonsense,” Adam said, already bouncing Leo gently. “We’ve raised kids before, remember? This is nothing. Go.”

Lando grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You heard them. Free babysitters. Let’s not waste this golden opportunity.”

Cisca rolled her eyes fondly as she started tidying the living room, picking up stray baby toys and discarded blankets. “You two deserve a break. Parenting isn’t easy, and you’ve been doing a wonderful job. But everyone needs help sometimes.”

Reluctantly, you let Lando pull you off the couch, your body protesting every movement. “Okay, but if he gets hungry-”

“I know how to warm a bottle,” Cisca interrupted gently, her voice filled with warmth. “We’ll call you if we need anything. Now go.”

As Lando grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs, you couldn’t help but glance back. Adam was rocking Leo, humming softly, while Cisca was already organizing the clutter in the kitchen.

“They’ve got it,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And we’ve got each other.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “I still feel a little guilty.”

“Don’t,” Lando said firmly, steering you toward the bedroom. “They want to help. And we need this. Just a couple of hours to recharge, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the past few sleepless nights begin to fade. “Yeah. You’re right.”

The bedroom was bathed in the soft, warm glow of the sun, the kind of light that made everything feel just a little bit more peaceful.

For once, there was no crying, no laundry to fold, no bottles to sterilize. Downstairs, the gentle hum of Lando’s parents chatting with Leo filled the air, but up here, it was quiet. Blissfully quiet.

You lay sprawled on the bed, your limbs heavy with exhaustion but your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Lando lay beside you, his head propped up on his hand, watching you with a small, soft smile that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in days.

“What?” you asked, your voice a low murmur, too tired to even tease.

He shook his head, his curls falling into his eyes. “Nothing. Just looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, shifting closer so he could rest his hand lightly on your waist. “But I’m serious. I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

“I’m right here, Lando,” you said softly, though the words felt heavier than you meant them to. You knew what he meant. The chaos of parenthood had left little time for anything else, especially for moments like this.

“No, I mean…” He paused, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric of your shirt, tracing absent patterns. “I’ve missed us. The way we used to just… be, you know? Before all the crying and nappies and figuring out how to keep a tiny human alive.”

Your throat tightened a little at his words, the weight of guilt creeping in again. “I know. I’ve been so caught up in being a mom that I…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“That you forgot to just be you?” Lando offered, his voice gentle, no trace of judgment.

You nodded, blinking back the sudden sting in your eyes. “Yeah. That.”

He let out a soft sigh, his hand moving to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were looking at him. His eyes were earnest, filled with that boundless affection that you didn't know what to do with most of the time.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You’re an amazing mom. The best. But before you were Leo’s mom, you were you. The woman I fell in love with. The woman who lights up every room she walks into. And I don’t want you to lose her.”

“I don’t know how to do that, Lando,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I feel like all I am right now is tired and messy and just… not enough.”

His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “You are more than enough. You always have been, and you always will be.”

You tried to look away, the intensity of his words clawing at your throat, but he didn’t let you, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “And you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he added, his voice taking on that familiar playful lilt. “Even with the spit-up stains and the messy bun.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Flatterer.”

“Not flattery. Just facts,” he insisted, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. Then your cheek. Then the tip of your nose. Each kiss was soft and slow, like he was trying to make you believe every word he said.

“Lando…”

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips finally finding yours. The kiss was gentle, filled with a warmth that made your chest ache. It was a reminder, a promise, and a thank you all wrapped into one.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for Leo. For everything. For letting me do this life with you.”

Tears prickled at your eyes, but this time they were the good kind. “You don’t have to thank me, Lando. We’re in this together, remember?”

“I know,” he said with a small smile. “But I’m going to thank you anyway. Because you deserve it. And because I don’t say it enough.”

He pulled you closer then, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from every ounce of exhaustion and doubt you carried. For a moment, you let yourself melt into him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your hair. “And I love Leo. But I don’t ever want you to forget- you’re more than just a mom, yeah?”

—

The morning light streamed through the curtains, soft and golden, bathing the room in a peaceful glow. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you woke up feeling truly rested.

No cries echoing through the baby monitor, no bleary-eyed stumbles in the middle of the night. Just the warmth of the bed, the sound of birds chirping outside, and the gentle rise and fall of Lando’s chest as he lay beside you.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you turned your head to find him already awake, his curls messy and his face relaxed in a way that made him look impossibly boyish. His eyes met yours, and a slow, lazy grin spread across his lips.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, your own smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Did we really just sleep through the night?”

Lando stretched, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. "Looks like it," he whispered. "Feels illegal, honestly. Like we’re breaking some kind of parental code."

You let out a soft laugh, your hand instinctively resting on his chest. “I forgot what it feels like to be this… alive.”

“Same,” he said, his grin turning cheeky. “Although, I don’t think we should waste this newfound energy.”

Before you could reply, Lando leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was warm and slow at first, but quickly deepened into something more heated. His hand slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as his other hand tangled in your hair.

“Lando…” you mumbled against his lips, pulling back slightly. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” he said, his grin widening as he trailed kisses down your jaw and back to your mouth. “I’ve just missed kissing you like this. No interruptions, no spit-up, no baby monitor beeping at us..”

His lips captured yours again, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, the world narrowing down to the warmth of his body and the way his hand slid up your side. But then reality came crashing back, and you pulled away just enough to mumble, “Lando, my body’s… not ready for anything. You know that, right?”

He pulled back, raising an eyebrow and looking at you like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Well, obviously. Don’t doubt my research, babe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “Your research?”

“Yes, my research,” he said with mock seriousness, leaning back down to kiss you again. “I’m well-informed, thank you very much. And I know exactly what you need right now- just this.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, his hand cupping your cheek as if to prove his point.

“Just kissing,” he murmured between kisses. “No pressure, no expectations. I just want you.”

You sighed into the kiss, your hands finding their way into his messy curls. It had been so long since you’d felt this close to him, and it was intoxicating. The way he kissed you made you feel like you were the center of his universe, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice rough.

“Me too,” you admitted, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he spoke again, his voice lighter now. “So… what do you think about getting a cleaner?”

You blinked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “A cleaner?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Not full-time or anything. Just someone to help out a few days a week. Give us a little breathing room with the chores. Time to, you know…” He smirked, leaning in to steal another quick kiss. “Do this more often.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible but practical,” he corrected, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at you properly. “Not full-time or anything. Just someone to help out a few days a week.“

You bit your lip, considering it. The idea of having some extra help was tempting, but you weren’t sure how you felt about leaving Leo with someone else, even for a few hours.

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. “I don’t know, Lando. I mean, I love being with Leo. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“And you won’t,” he reassured you, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I feel like I should be able to handle everything. Like... isn’t that what moms are supposed to do?" you admitted.

"Hey," he said, tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You’re already handling everything. And you’re doing it brilliantly. But there’s no rule that says you have to do it all alone. Asking for help doesn’t make you any less of an amazing mom. It just means you’re human."

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "You really think it’s a good idea?"

"I do," he said firmly. "But only if it’s what you want. We’ll make it work either way. I just want to make sure you’re okay, love. That we’re okay.”

“Just think about it. No rush. No pressure. But if it means more mornings like this… it might be worth it.”

He kissed you again, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, your worries momentarily forgotten. For now, all that mattered was this moment, the two of you, together, with nothing else in the world but the warmth of his touch and the way he made you feel like you were still the most important thing in his life.

—

After some thought and plenty of conversations, you and Lando finally decided to hire someone.

It wasn’t a full-time helper, just someone to help around the house, take care of the cleaning, and keep things a little more organized.

You still handled all of Leo’s needs together, but the weight of the mess hanging around, making everything feel just a little more overwhelming, was finally lifted.

A few days of the cleaner settling in, things felt noticeably smoother. The house no longer looked like a war zone, and the chaos of being first-time parents seemed a little less overwhelming with the clutter finally under control.

One evening, after you’d finally gotten Leo to sleep and both of you had managed to survive a particularly difficult round of diaper duty, you and Lando flopped onto the couch.

He stretched out dramatically, groaning like he’d just completed a marathon.

“Okay, I don’t care what anyone says. Getting Leo to bed is like running a 5K.” Lando let out a deep sigh, making a show of rubbing his temples as if he’d just solved world peace.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Oh, please. You’re a Formula 1 driver. Getting a baby to sleep should be a walk in the park compared to dodging crashes and tight corners.”

Lando shot you a side-eye, his lips quirking into a teasing grin. “Pfft. Formula 1 doesn't prepare you for a baby that won’t stop crying. No amount of pit stops will save you from that chaos.”

“True,” you said with a chuckle, snuggling up against him. “But at least we’re not cleaning up a whole pit crew’s worth of mess every two hours anymore.”

Lando kissed the top of your head and sighed in contentment. “Thank God for that.”

—

Lando was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed as he gently held Leo in his arms. The baby’s little hands gripped onto his fingers, his tiny face still a little scrunched in concentration.

You were watching from the couch, feeling a quiet sense of joy as you observed the two of them, when it happened.

Leo, with a little puff of air, let out the tiniest, most uncoordinated gummy smile. It wasn’t much, just a small curve of his lips, but to Lando, it was everything.

Lando froze, eyes wide as his gaze locked onto Leo’s face. He blinked, then blinked again, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Did… did he just-” His voice cracked, and before he could finish, tears welled up in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “He smiled at me. He smiled.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, watching as Lando’s expression shifted from disbelief to pure adoration. He looked down at Leo, his hand trembling as he brushed a lock of hair away from the baby’s face.

Leo cooed softly, clearly content, and gave him another gummy smile. That was it. Lando completely lost it.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “My son… my son smiled at me.”

Lando cradled Leo in his arms, his gaze fixed on the baby with a mixture of awe and absolute adoration. He swayed back and forth, humming softly under his breath, as though trying to coax some kind of miracle out of his little son.

"Mama’s turn now," Lando said in a voice full of tenderness, walking toward you with Leo facing you. "Smile at Mama, Leo!"

You leaned forward, your hands resting on your knees as you watched Lando’s every move, heart swelling. “You think he’s really going to smile on cue?”

“Just wait,” Lando said with a grin, gently bouncing Leo. "Look at Mama, little man. Show her your big, gummy smile!"

For a moment, there was only the soft sound of Lando’s voice, and then... it happened. Leo’s face scrunched up as he stared up at you with those big, innocent eyes. And then, like a flash of light, his lips curled up in the tiniest, most precious gummy smile.

You felt your heart explode. Without even thinking, you reached a hand to cover your mouth as a soft sob escaped. "Oh my God," you whispered, tears already brimming. "He smiled at me, Lando."

Both of you stared at Leo, the tiny bundle who had no idea he had just performed the greatest act of cuteness in the history of parenthood. He just blinked up at you both, totally clueless, his little hands batting in the air, completely unaware of the emotional chaos he’d triggered.

Lando’s voice was shaky as he looked at you, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Look at him. He’s perfect. He’s ours. He smiled, love. He smiled!"

You were laughing and crying at the same time, shaking your head in disbelief. "I can’t. This is... too much."

Lando gently shifted Leo so that he was facing you both, as if presenting him to you like the greatest treasure. "See, buddy?" Lando whispered to Leo, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re gonna break hearts with that smile. Just like your mama."

You wiped away a tear, reaching out a hand to gently touch Leo’s tiny foot. "I can’t believe how much I love you two," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Lando was full-on crying now, unable to contain the tears as he held Leo to his chest again, taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know it was possible to love you more every day,” he said, voice cracking with emotion. “But then... he does that,” he gestured lazily at Leo, “and suddenly I love you both a thousand times more.”

You reached up to gently wipe a tear from his cheek, your hand trembling just slightly. "I know," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I love you both too."

Leo, completely unaware of the full emotional depth of the moment, simply gurgled in his sleep, his hands curling into fists, still smiling in his own little, clueless way.

You laughed softly, your voice still thick with emotion. "He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen."

"Yeah," Lando agreed, his voice still a little raw. "He’s perfect. And he’s ours. I didn’t know I could feel like this,” he said, choking on his words, his voice cracking even more. “I’m so proud. I’m just… so proud of him already.”

You got up from the couch, walking over to where Lando was, a small, amused smile playing on your lips. You kneeled beside him, brushing your hand gently against his arm. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

Lando wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his face flushed with both emotion and embarrassment. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he said, looking at you through misty eyes. “This whole dad thing is gonna kill me. I can’t handle it.”

—

Lando was peacefully asleep on the couch, his arm draped lazily over his face, a soft snore escaping his lips as he lay on his back. Leo was nestled against his chest, his tiny hands swiping aimlessly as he slowly woke up, blinking his big eyes in the morning light.

You sat on the edge of the couch, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them. The sight was adorable- Lando, always so composed, now a soft, unguarded mess with your son lying on top of him. You leaned in to scoop Leo up for a cuddle, ready to give Lando a break from baby duty.

But just as you reached down to lift Leo, you froze. Leo’s tiny hand shot out, and in one swift move, he grabbed onto Lando’s nose with both little fists.

You stifled a laugh as Lando remained blissfully unaware, still deep in his sleep. Leo, on the other hand, was gripping his dad's nose like it was the most important thing in the world, his little fingers digging in as if holding onto a treasure.

You leaned over and tried to carefully pry Leo’s hand off his dad’s face, but Leo wasn't having any of it. His grip tightened, and he let out a soft giggle of his own, clearly delighted by his newfound power.

"No way, Leo," you whispered through your giggles. "Let go of Daddy’s nose."

But Leo just grinned and gave an enthusiastic tug, which only made you laugh harder. Lando, still unaware, snored a little louder, completely oblivious to the tiny assault on his nose.

You tried again to pull Leo away, but it was no use. Leo refused to let go. The more you tried, the more Leo seemed to cling to his dad’s nose with newfound determination.

"You little troublemaker," you giggled, your fingers now gently tickling Leo’s side in an attempt to distract him. "Daddy’s gonna wake up with a nose full of baby drool, and you're gonna be the one to blame."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of baby antics, Lando stirred slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked, clearly confused as to why he felt a strange sensation on his nose. He looked down, and his gaze immediately landed on Leo, still gripping his nose like it was the most important thing in the world.

Lando blinked a few times, his lips twitching into a smile. "Leo..." he said groggily, his voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing, buddy?"

You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, and you let out a full giggle. "He’s got you, Lando. He won’t let go."

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at Leo, who was grinning back at him, completely unaware of the trouble he’d caused. "Well, guess I’m stuck with this now, huh?" Lando chuckled, gently moving Leo’s tiny hand from his nose. “I guess I should be flattered.”

You leaned in to kiss Lando on the cheek, still giggling. "You should be. I think Leo just claimed you as his personal jungle gym."

Lando smiled, finally fully awake now, and carefully lifted Leo off his chest, giving him a small kiss on the forehead. "Guess he loves me more than I thought."

"Just wait until he starts grabbing your hair," you teased.

Lando laughed, giving Leo a soft, affectionate squeeze. "I’ll take it. It’s just another part of the adventure."

You watched the two of them, your heart full. “Yeah. Another adventure,” you agreed softly, feeling the warmth of your little family wrap around you.

—

It was one of those rare, quiet afternoons. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting a soft glow over the living room where you sat with Leo cradled in your arms. His tiny body was warm against yours, his head nestled just beneath your chin. You were humming softly, tracing little patterns on his back, lost in your own world.

But Leo? Leo was in his own universe and it revolved entirely around you.

He tilted his head back slightly, his wide, curious eyes locking onto your face like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

His little hands reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek. Every time you moved, even slightly, his gaze followed with a level of intensity that would’ve made a detective jealous.

“Hey there, buddy,” you whispered, smiling down at him. “What’s got you so mesmerized?”

Leo didn’t answer, of course. He just blinked at you, his big, gummy smile spreading across his face like sunshine breaking through clouds.

“Is it the song?” you teased, tilting your head. “Or are you just checking to see if I’m as tired as I feel?”

Lando walked in from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand, and froze when he saw the two of you. “Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice laced with awe. “He’s in love with you.”

You looked up, confused but amused. “What are you talking about?”

“Look at him!” Lando exclaimed, setting the glass down and gesturing dramatically toward Leo. “He’s completely starstruck. Like, I’m his dad, but apparently, you’re Beyoncé or something.”

You laughed softly, glancing back down at Leo. “He’s a baby, Lando. Babies just... stare.”

“Not like this,” Lando countered, crouching beside the couch to get a closer look. He waved a hand in front of Leo’s face, trying to catch his attention, but Leo didn’t even blink. His gaze stayed fixed on you, unwavering.

“See?” Lando said, throwing his hands up. “I don’t exist. You’re his whole world.”

“Well,” you said with a sly smile, “can you blame him?”

Lando laughed, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Not even a little bit.”

Leo, as if sensing that his dad was stealing your attention, let out a little coo of protest. His tiny hand reached up again, this time gripping a strand of your hair.

“Oh, you’re possessive now, huh?” you teased, gently prying his fingers loose. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Lando watched the exchange with a grin, shaking his head. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

Leo giggled at you, a sound so pure and joyful that both you and Lando couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Well,” Lando said, sitting down beside you, “if he’s this obsessed with you now, just wait until he starts talking. First word’s gonna be ‘Mama’ for sure.”

You shrugged, smirking. “I mean, I am pretty great.”

“Understatement of the year,” Lando muttered, leaning in to kiss your temple.

Leo babbled something incomprehensible, his voice full of excitement, as if trying to join the conversation. You looked back down at him, your heart swelling.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, too.”

Leo responded with another gummy smile, and Lando groaned, clutching his chest.

“I’m gonna die,” he said dramatically. “He’s too cute. You’re too cute. I can’t handle this.”

You laughed, leaning into Lando’s side as the three of you basked in the warmth of the moment, your little family feeling more perfect than ever.

A few hours later and you were lounging on the couch, Leo nestled snugly against your chest. His tiny fingers clung to your shirt, his cheek resting against you as he babbled softly. You were exhausted but content, brushing a hand gently over his downy hair.

Lando appeared in the doorway, fresh from a shower, his hair damp and tousled. He grinned at the sight of the two of you, still where he had left you earlier to go running to get the workout his personal trainer required him. "Alright, mama. Your turn to rest," he said, striding over confidently. "Hand him over."

You chuckled softly, shifting slightly. "I don’t think he’s going to like that."

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lando said, reaching for Leo. “Come on, buddy. Let’s give Mama a break. You’ve hogged her long enough.”

But as soon as Lando’s hands gently tried to lift Leo away, your son let out a whiny little wail, clutching at your shirt like his life depended on it. His face scrunched up, and he made a series of dramatic, pitiful noises, burying his head against you.

Lando froze, blinking at Leo in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- what’s this?”

You tried to hold back a laugh, rubbing Leo’s back soothingly. “I told you. He’s a mama’s boy right now.”

“Mama’s boy?” Lando repeated, his tone almost offended. “Leo, mate, you’re killing me here. What happened to our father-son bond? Remember? McLaren lullabies? Matching outfits? No?”

Leo let out another whimper and clung tighter, making it abundantly clear that no, he did not care about any of that right now.

“Unbelievable,” Lando muttered, dropping his hands to his hips. “You’re supposed to be my biggest fan, and you’re ditching me for her?”

“Can you blame him?” you teased, smiling up at Lando. “I mean, I did carry him for nine months. We’ve got history.”

Lando scoffed, sitting on the armrest of the couch, his arms crossed. “Alright, fine. I’ll just sit here and wait until he decides I’m worthy of his time again. No big deal.”

You laughed softly, adjusting Leo slightly so he could peek at his dad. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He loves you. He’s just... clingy today.”

Lando leaned in closer, his face inches from Leo’s. “Hey, buddy,” he said in a mock serious tone. “You’re breaking my heart, you know that? At least give me a smile or something.”

Leo peeked at him, his little mouth forming an ‘O’ as if considering it, but then he tucked his face back into your neck with a happy sigh.

“Wow,” Lando said, throwing his hands up. “Rejected. Completely rejected. I’m never going to recover from this.”

You reached out with your free hand, tugging playfully at Lando’s arm. “Oh, stop. You’ll get your turn when he’s in a dad mood.”

“When’s that gonna be? Next year?” Lando quipped, though his grin gave away that he wasn’t really upset.

You tilted your head, resting it against the couch. “Maybe when he starts talking. He might surprise you and say ‘Dada’ first.”

Lando’s face lit up at the idea, his competitive streak kicking in. “Oh, he better say ‘Dada’ first. Otherwise, I’m taking him to every Grand Prix until he changes his mind.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him fondly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me,” he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. Then, after a beat, he pressed a soft kiss to Leo’s, earning himself a tiny, curious glance.

“See, Leo?” Lando said, grinning at his son. “I’m not so bad. Maybe next time, you’ll pick Dad, huh?”

Leo cooed softly, his tiny hand reaching out toward Lando’s face as if to placate him, and Lando laughed.

“Alright,” he said, standing back up. “You win this round, little guy. But don’t get too comfortable. Dad’s coming for you.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to Leo’s head as he settled contentedly against you. “I think we’re both lucky to have you, Lando. Even if he’s playing favorites today.”

Lando shot you a cheeky grin. “Damn right you’re lucky. Just wait until tomorrow. I’ll bring out the big guns- he won’t be able to resist.”

“Big guns?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” Lando said cryptically, heading toward the kitchen. “Just you wait, Mama’s boy.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head, as Leo cooed happily in your arms, blissfully unaware of the competition brewing between his parents.

—

The house was unusually quiet that evening, save for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.

You were finishing up the dishes when you noticed Lando sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. His hair was a mess from running his fingers through it, something he only did when he was stressed.

You dried your hands and walked over, sitting beside him.

Leo was already asleep in his crib, giving you both a rare moment of peace, but Lando’s usual lighthearted demeanor was absent.

"Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "What’s on your mind?"

He sighed heavily, sitting back and looking at you with tired eyes. "Season’s starting back up soon."

You nodded. "I know. It’s what you love, though. You’ve been itching to get back out there."

"Yeah, I have," he admitted, but his voice was far from excited. "It’s just... different this time."

You tilted your head, encouraging him to continue.

"I don’t want to miss anything," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Leo’s growing so fast already, and what if I miss his first word? Or the first time he crawls? What if he forgets me when I’m gone too much? He’s so little, and I just... I don’t want him to feel like I’m not around."

Your heart broke a little at his words.

Lando was always so confident, but being a dad had softened him in ways you didn’t expect.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re not going to miss everything, Lando. We’re coming with you, remember?"

"I know," he said, wrapping an arm around you instinctively. "But it’s not the same. You’ll be in the hotel most of the time. I’ll be at the track all day. And then there’s the traveling, the media, the briefings... It’s not like I can just pop in whenever I want."

"You’re doing your best," you reassured him. "And that’s all that matters. Leo’s not going to forget you just because you’re working. He’s going to grow up knowing his dad is chasing his dreams."

"But he’s my dream too," Lando whispered, his voice cracking. "I love racing, but I love you and Leo more. And I don’t want either of you to feel like you’re second to anything."

You sat up and cupped his face in your hands, making him look at you. "Lando Norris, you are an amazing dad and an amazing partner. Racing doesn’t take away from that. If anything, it adds to it. You’re showing Leo what it means to work hard for something you’re passionate about. And no matter how busy things get, you always come back to us. That’s what he’ll remember."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he let out another sigh. "You’re way too good at this pep talk thing, you know."

You smiled. "Comes with the territory. Now, instead of worrying, why don’t you focus on the things you can do? Like making sure you get as much time with Leo as possible before you leave for Bahrain."

Lando nodded, his resolve strengthening. "You’re right. I’ll make every second count."

"We’ll be cheering you on," you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Always."

"Love you," he murmured, pulling you into his arms.

"We love you too," you whispered back, knowing that no matter how challenging the season ahead would be, you’d face it together.

—

The door to the hotel room creaked open, and you looked up from the couch where you sat with Leo perched on your lap.

The tension in Lando’s shoulders was evident as he stepped inside, his eyes shadowed with the weight of a race that hadn’t gone his way.

His hair was still damp from a quick post-race shower at the track, hoodie lazily thrown on.

He dropped his bag by the door and leaned against the wall for a moment, rubbing a hand down his face. You could see the frustration in every line of his posture, and your heart ached for him.

“Hey,” you called softly, trying not to wake Leo, who was already babbling quietly as he played with your fingers.

Lando’s eyes found yours, and just like that, some of the tension began to melt away. His gaze shifted to Leo, whose bright aquamarine eyes lit up the moment he saw his dad. Tiny hands waved enthusiastically, and Lando couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, mate,” he murmured, crossing the room to kneel beside you both. “You’ve been good for your mum?”

Leo giggled in response, his baby talk filling the room. Lando reached out to gently tickle his son’s belly, his earlier frustration slowly dissolving into soft chuckles as Leo squirmed and cooed.

“I missed you two,” Lando said quietly, his eyes meeting yours. He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, then pressed a soft kiss to Leo’s chubby cheek. “Needed this more than I thought.”

Leo’s babbling grew more excited, and he suddenly clapped his hands before blurting out, “Buh! Buh! Buh! Booooox!”

Both you and Lando froze for a second, staring at each other in disbelief.

“Did he just-”

“Did he just say box box box?” you finished, already starting to laugh.

Lando’s jaw dropped before he burst into a mix of laughter and disbelief. “No way. His first words are box box box! Are you kidding me?!”

You were laughing so hard tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Oh my God, Lando. All that time spent listening to the race engineers is paying off! He’s already a little racer!”

Lando gently scooped Leo up, holding him high in the air as the baby giggled uncontrollably.

“Leo, mate, you’ve got the timing of a legend! First words straight out of a pit wall broadcast. Unbelievable!”

Leo’s babbling continued, his gummy smile stretching wide as he seemed to revel in the attention.

Lando pressed his forehead to Leo’s, his voice filled with affection. “You’re perfect, you know that? Absolute perfection. Even if you’ve cursed me to never hear the end of this from Uncle Max.”

You leaned over to kiss Lando’s cheek, your laughter settling into a warm smile. “Well, at least we know he’s paying attention during the races.”

Lando turned to look at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “You two make everything better, you know that? Worst race of my life, and here I am, happier than ever because of this little guy and his genius first words.”

“Buh-buh-buh!” Leo squealed again, reaching out to grab Lando’s nose.

“Yeah, yeah, box box box, I hear you, mate,” Lando said, his voice thick with laughter and adoration.

—

The moment came out of nowhere, as so many milestones do.

You were finishing up your nighttime skincare routine while Lando sat on the floor, trying to coax Leo to take a step.

Leo stood wobbling on his chubby little legs, his hands stretched out in front of him for balance.

“Come on, mate,” Lando encouraged, holding his arms out. “One step. Just one! You’ve got this.”

You looked up, a soft smile playing on your lips. “He’s been teasing you with this for weeks, hasn’t he?”

“Don’t jinx it!” Lando shot back with a grin, his eyes glued to Leo.

Leo’s face was scrunched in determination, his tongue poking out as if it helped his balance. Then, with the tiniest of shuffles, he lifted one foot and took a step.

“YES!” Lando’s shout nearly startled the poor baby into toppling over, but Leo took another step toward his dad, and then another, his arms swinging wildly for balance.

You gasped, nearly dropping the serum you were holding. “Oh my God, he’s doing it!”

Leo stumbled into Lando’s arms, laughing triumphantly as his dad scooped him up and spun him around. “That’s my boy! First steps! Did you see that, babe? He’s a natural.”

You were on your feet in an instant, rushing over to join them. “I saw it! Our little walker!”

Leo’s giggles turned into a proud little babble as Lando kissed the top of his head, his own grin so wide it looked like it might split his face.

Over the next few days, Leo was unstoppable. His clumsy little walk turned into a full-on mission to copy everything you and Lando did. If Lando was stretching, Leo mimicked him, though his version mostly involved falling over. When you bent down to pick something up, Leo would squat and then sit on his bottom like it was the same thing.

“Look at him!” Lando said one afternoon, watching as Leo tried to copy his dad tying his sneakers. “He’s like a little shadow. A very uncoordinated, very adorable shadow.”

Leo looked up at his dad with wide eyes, then toddled over and wrapped his arms around Lando’s leg, babbling nonsense.

“Aw, buddy, you’re killing me here,” Lando said, scooping him up. “You’re too cute. I can’t handle it.”

—

The sound of the private jet’s engines starting up hummed softly beneath your feet as you held Leo in your arms, walking down the narrow aisle towards the seats.

You could feel his tiny hand gripping your finger as you set him down on his feet, his little body still a bit unsteady as he tried to mimic your movements.

It was one of those moments that felt like time slowed down, as Leo tried to take a few wobbly steps toward Lando, who was already settled in his seat, grinning widely at his son.

“Come on, little man,” Lando called out, his voice light with amusement. “You can do it. Show mama how it’s done.”

You smiled at him, your heart swelling as you watched Leo try to imitate Lando’s movements, his knees wobbling slightly as he took another hesitant step forward.

The jet's gentle swaying seemed to make it harder, but Leo was determined. With every step he took, his little face lit up with the biggest grin, his wide eyes sparkling like he was proud of himself for trying.

“You’re a natural, Leo,” you said softly, helping him balance with your hand on his back. “Just like your dad.”

Leo looked up at you then, his smile widening before he reached for you.

He babbled excitedly, his voice higher-pitched and full of joy, and you laughed as you scooped him up, feeling his small arms wrap around your neck in a tight hug.

He was practically vibrating with happiness. You couldn’t help but melt into the feeling, his love so pure and contagious that it left you breathless.

“He really loves you,” Lando said with a grin, watching as Leo snuggled into your arms. “I think you might be his favorite.”

“Of course, I am,” you teased, pressing a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “He knows who takes care of him when he needs snacks, cuddles, and all the kisses.”

Leo giggled, his baby talk coming out in a string of adorable babbles as he snuggled closer to you. “Mama!” he squealed, his little voice bouncing off the walls of the plane, and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“That’s right, buddy,” you whispered, looking at Lando with a playful smirk. “Mama’s got you.”

Lando laughed softly, clearly charmed by the scene.

You gently bounced Leo on your hip as you made your way to the seats. “It’s alright, babe. You’re still my number one, even if Leo’s stealing all the attention.”

Leo, sensing that he was the center of it all, let out a cheerful little giggle, reaching for Lando as if asking for his dad to hold him too.

“Okay, okay,” Lando laughed, scooting over and extending his arms. “You’ve made your point, little man.”

You handed Leo to Lando, watching as the two of them shared a moment. Leo rested his tiny head against his dad’s chest as Lando sat back in his seat, humming a soft tune to calm him down.

—

When Leo was still barely a year old, you and Lando found yourselves having the same conversation over and over.

You didn’t know if Leo would end up following in Lando’s footsteps or if he’d develop his own passions, but you both agreed that it was important to plan for his future- just in case.

Sitting together in the living room, watching Leo take wobbly steps across the floor, Lando turned to you with a smile. “I know we’re still a long way off, but... have you thought about what kind of school we want for Leo?”

You shrugged, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair from Leo’s forehead.

“It’s hard to say, isn’t it? He’s barely one, but I’ve been thinking about it too. I guess we can’t decide now, but I think it’s smart to start planning. I mean, who knows what his interests will be?”

Lando nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. He might not be into racing, or even sports. But I can’t help but think about the possibility of him wanting to do something like I did. I don’t want to push him, but...” His voice trailed off as he watched Leo take another shaky step.

“I know,” you said softly, smiling as Leo giggled and reached for you. “It’s hard not to think about it. I just want him to have the freedom to choose what he loves, even if that’s not racing.”

Lando’s expression softened. “Of course. But what if he does? I want to make sure he has options, you know? Like, if he’s into it, I’d love for him to have that foundation. But if he’s not... then I don’t want him to feel forced into it.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing how much racing meant to him. “I get it. It’s not just about racing, though. It’s about having choices. I think we should focus on giving him a well-rounded education, one that could adapt to whatever he wants to do. But I also think it’s important to keep in mind how we’ll handle it if he does decide to race, just in case.”

Lando sighed, watching Leo playfully crawl towards his toy car. “Yeah. Maybe we should start looking into schools that would allow for flexibility. That way, if he does want to race, it won’t interfere too much with his education.”

“Yeah,” you said, watching Leo’s face light up as he grabbed his toy and started pushing it across the floor. “And if he doesn’t want to race, we’ll make sure he has every opportunity to explore whatever else he’s passionate about.”

Lando grinned. “Whatever he ends up doing, I’ll be proud. Just... as long as he doesn’t bring me another toy car to fix. That’s my job.”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “I think he might just follow in your footsteps on that one.”

“Maybe. But for now, we’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” Lando took your hand and squeezed it.

—

As you stepped into the paddock, Leo securely tucked in Lando’s arms, you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s attention turned to your little boy.

His bright orange McLaren headphones looked comically large on his head, his curls bouncing with every slight movement.

Despite the overwhelming sights and sounds, Leo’s aquamarine eyes darted around, wide with curiosity.

“Alright, little man,” Lando murmured, adjusting Leo’s jacket, complete with a tiny McLaren logo stitched on the chest. “This is where Dad works. Cool, right? Your dad’s a bit of a big deal here.”

You smirked as you walked beside them. “He’s modest too. Make sure you learn that, Leo.”

Lando turned to you, raising a brow. “What can I say? He should know the truth.” Then, looking at Leo, he grinned. “We’ll save the really cool stuff for when you can talk.”

One of the engineers wandered over, grinning. “Well, well, if it isn’t our new recruit. Welcome, Leo. Hope you’re ready to carry the team.”

Leo giggled at the commotion, clumsily reaching out toward the engineer’s shiny name badge.

“Watch out,” you warned, leaning away. “If it’s shiny, he’s going to grab it.”

“Just like his dad and a trophy,” the engineer quipped, dodging Leo’s little hands.

Leo’s delighted squeals made the whole team stop and stare for a moment, their smiles softening as he wriggled excitedly, his tiny hands grabbing at the air as if trying to reach for the brightly colored McLaren car parked nearby.

One of the mechanics leaned in with a smile, handing Leo a miniature wrench.

“For the next pit stop,” the mechanic joked. “Gotta train ‘em young!”

Leo grabbed the wrench with a look of awe, his gummy smile lighting up the entire garage.

“Careful,” Lando said, laughing. “You give him that, and he’s going to think he’s part of the crew.”

“Isn’t he already?” the team’s PR manager chimed in, snapping a photo of Lando and Leo. “This might be our cutest team member yet.”

“I’m telling you,” Lando said, looking around. “This kid’s already got star power. I give it, what, two years before Zak offers him a contract?”

“Let’s aim for potty training first,” you teased, running a hand through Leo’s curls. “Then he can talk strategy.”

Zak wandered over at that moment, his gaze flicking from Leo to Lando. “He’s stealing the show already, isn’t he?”

“Obviously,” Lando said, grinning. “Look at him! He’s got the McLaren spirit.”

Leo babbled loudly, throwing his arms in the air as if he were agreeing. Everyone laughed, and Lando looked at you, his expression softening for just a moment.

“You sure he’s not overwhelmed?” he asked quietly, his voice just for you.

You smiled, resting a hand on his arm. “He’s fine. He’s curious, just like someone else I know.”

Leo, now grabbing at the zipper on Lando’s race suit, interrupted the moment with a loud, joyful squeal.

“Alright, alright,” Lando said, laughing as he adjusted Leo. “You’re the boss, mate.”

After Lando handed Leo back to you, his bright orange headphones still perched comically on his tiny head, he knelt to Leo’s level one last time before heading to the car.

“Alright, buddy,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to Leo’s curls. “Daddy’s going to go really fast now, okay? Cheer for me.”

Leo babbled something incomprehensible, his little hands reaching out to pat Lando’s face. Lando chuckled, leaning into the touch as if it were the best encouragement he could get.

“See? He already knows I’m winning,” Lando joked, standing and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Take care of my little number one fan.”

“We’ll be cheering from the best seats in the house,” you assured him, adjusting Leo on your hip. “Go make us proud.”

As Lando disappeared into the chaos of the garage, you carried Leo to the viewing area, a private box where you could watch the race without overwhelming him. The hum of engines roaring to life filled the air, and Leo’s eyes grew impossibly wide at the sight of the cars pulling out onto the track.

“Look, Leo,” you cooed, pointing toward the screen showing Lando’s car. “There’s Daddy. See the orange car? That’s him.”

Leo squirmed excitedly in your arms, babbling in response as if he understood. His tiny fists waved in the air, his gaze locked on the screen.

As the race began, you couldn’t help but glance between the screen and your son. His fascination was evident, his aquamarine eyes following the cars as they sped around the track.

Occasionally, he’d let out a squeal, clapping his hands together, and it made your heart swell.

“Is Daddy fast?” you asked playfully.

Leo responded with a delighted giggle, his curls bouncing as he nodded. Whether it was intentional or just random excitement, you weren’t sure, but it made you laugh anyway.

When Lando pulled off a daring overtake, you clapped softly, careful not to startle Leo. “See that, little man? That’s Daddy being awesome.”

Leo responded by slapping his chubby hands against your chest and squealing, his energy contagious.

By the time the race ended, Lando had finished in a respectable position—maybe not a podium, but enough to make you proud. As he approached the garage for post-race celebrations and interviews, you and Leo made your way down to meet him.

The moment Lando stepped into view, sweaty and slightly disheveled but glowing with the post-race adrenaline, Leo practically launched himself toward him, wiggling in your arms and reaching out.

“Alright, alright, mate!” Lando said, laughing as he took Leo from you, holding him close. “You watched me, huh? Did you see how cool I was?”

Leo responded with a string of babbles, his hands patting Lando’s cheeks and tugging at his race suit zipper again.

“He was your biggest fan,” you said, smiling at the sight of the two of them.

“Best fan I’ll ever have,” Lando said, pressing a kiss to Leo’s forehead before looking at you. “And my second best fan is pretty great, too.”

“Oh, I’m second now?” you teased, arching a brow.

“Technically tied,” Lando corrected with a grin, leaning in to kiss you briefly. “Best race ever. Thanks to you two.”

—

It was a sunny afternoon when Adam and Cisca arrived for their visit, the house buzzing with excitement as Leo toddled around, his tiny feet barely keeping up with his boundless energy.

You had been waiting for this moment, knowing how much both Lando’s parents were eager to hear their grandson say his first words to them.

“Cisca, Adam, we’ve been working on something special with Leo,” you said, a playful grin on your face. “I think he’s finally ready to impress you both.”

Cisca, who was sitting on the couch with Adam, leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, don’t tease us. What’s he going to do?”

You gave a small nod toward Leo, who was currently playing with his favorite toy car, completely oblivious to the attention he was about to receive.

Lando was beside him, giving a little encouragement.

“Leo,” Lando said softly, “can you say ‘Grandma’?”

For a moment, Leo just looked up at him, his big aquamarine eyes blinking as if he was deciding whether to humor his dad. Then, in a clear, albeit babyish voice, he uttered, “G-g-gra-ma!”

The room fell silent for a split second, before Cisca gasped and clapped her hands.

“He said it! He really said it!” Her eyes were wide with excitement, and she immediately reached for Leo, pulling him into her arms as she showered him with kisses.

Adam laughed, his arms crossed as he watched Cisca fawn over Leo. “Well, it looks like we have a new favorite around here.”

Cisca, still holding Leo, smiled warmly. “He’s a natural,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Lando grinned, clearly proud, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, buddy. Let’s see if you can do ‘Grandpa’ now.”

Leo’s face lit up at the challenge, and he looked up at Lando with a wide grin. “G-g-pa!” he said, a little clearer this time, as though he’d been practicing in secret.

Cisca and Adam both looked at each other in amazement before bursting into laughter. “He did it!”

You couldn’t help but smile, watching your son, so small yet already full of surprises.

Lando, beaming, scooped Leo into his arms, lifting him high in the air. “Good job, mate! You’re already a hit with the grandparents.”

As you all laughed and celebrated, you felt a warm sense of joy, knowing that these small moments were just the beginning.

Leo was growing up so quickly, and every new word was another step toward the amazing little person he was becoming.

And if there was any doubt that he was Lando’s son, it was quickly erased with that second, clearer “Grandpa.”

—

It was Lando’s home race, and the atmosphere was electric. The streets around the circuit buzzed with excitement as fans poured in to cheer on their favorite driver.

You, Lando, and Leo were all geared up for a day of racing, but there was an undeniable sense of extra energy in the air today.

It was Lando's moment to shine in front of his hometown crowd.

You had decided to bring Leo along for his first true race day experience, and the little one couldn’t contain his excitement.

He had been bouncing around the house all morning, his energy matching the anticipation in the air

“Ready for the madness?” Lando asked, his fingers tapping on the wheel as he drove toward the circuit.

“Is there ever a dull moment at one of your races?” you teased, glancing at Leo, who was already staring out the window, wide-eyed at the massive crowds beginning to form outside.

“Look, Daddy!” Leo exclaimed, his voice full of wonder. “People!”

Lando chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s hair. “Yeah, buddy, those people are here to watch a race. They love the sport almost as much as we do.”

Lando slowed a little to let Leo get a better look at the fans, many of whom had spotted him by now.

A small wave of recognition rippled through the crowd, and people began holding up signs, taking photos, and cheering even louder.

Lando chuckled, glancing at Leo. “Look at him, he’s already soaking it all in. He’s going to be waving at people the whole time.”

Sure enough, as you drove past the crowds lining the track, Leo pressed his face against the window and started waving enthusiastically at the fans.

“Hi! Hi, people!” he called out, his little arm flailing in the air like he was trying to reach everyone at once.

Lando laughed, shaking his head fondly. “Just like me when I was his age, huh?”

You smiled, watching Leo’s excitement grow as the car neared the grid.

“He’s got your energy, that’s for sure,” you agreed, though Leo’s cheeky smile had hints of you, too.

Leo, still oblivious to the significance of the day, continued to wave back happily, as if the attention was the most natural thing in the world.

The moment was adorable, and it didn’t take long for the whole world to start catching on.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out quickly, only to be greeted with a flood of notifications.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the messages from friends and family, all the while still hearing Leo’s happy babbling in the back seat.

The trending hashtag was unmistakable: #LeoNorrisOnTheGrid.

It seemed that most fans, spotting Leo, immediately started recording, posting videos of the excited toddler waving at everyone. Within minutes, the clips had gone viral.

On Twitter, hashtags like #LeoNorris and #MiniLando had started trending in minutes.

Fans were going crazy over how much Leo looked like his father, and how adorable he was interacting with the crowd. Some even joked about how Leo was stealing the spotlight from Lando.

"I swear, this kid's got his own fan club already," you said, laughing as you scrolled through the posts and videos that were rapidly gaining likes and retweets.

Lando raised an eyebrow, glancing at the screen before shaking his head, amused. “Well, I’m not surprised. He’s got that Norris charm.”

As you all made your way to the grid, the excitement continued to build. Leo, blissfully unaware of the frenzy he’d caused online, continued to wave at the fans, his little face lit up with pure joy. You leaned over to Lando, whispering, “He’s definitely got your spirit, that��s for sure.”

“Guess he’s a natural,” Lando said with a grin, his tone light but his pride obvious. “But I’m not sure how I feel about all those people already talking about him taking my seat one day.”

You laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Don’t worry, Lando. He’s still got a lot of growing to do before that happens.”

Leo’s excited voice interrupted the moment. “Daddy race now! Go, go, go!” He was bouncing in his seat, eager for his dad to get to the track.

As you made your way toward the grid, Lando leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“Thanks for being here with me today,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “It means the world to have you both here, especially today.”

With Leo tugging on his hand, eager to explore, you smiled, feeling the love and joy that filled the air.

“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you replied, knowing that this day, this moment, was something you’d all treasure forever.

1K notes · View notes

satoruan · 1 year ago

Text

THINK I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY w/Jujutsu Kaisen

( TW ) f!Reader, Breeding kink, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum inflation, hair pulling, sex toys, overstimulation, stepdad!Toji, daddy kink, overstimulation

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru & Choso Kamo

authors note: repost bc tumblr took it down for no reason...

☾ GOJO SATORU

“Fuck Love, you’re sucking me so good.” Satoru groans, struggling to not crash the car. During dinner, you two kept passing each other such heated looks that even your friends commented on the tension. Earlier today, you got a notification from your health app that you were ovulating. Satoru jumped on you as soon you told him, he wanted to stay in all day and fuck, but your guys’ friends blew up his phone reminding him of the promises you both made to them. After dinner you couldn't keep your hands off each other, you were desperate for his cum and Satoru was desperate to breed you. “Don’t cum ‘Toru.” You warn before sticking his cock back in your mouth. “Can’t help it Love, mouth too fuckin’ good,” he says, sighing in relief when he pulls onto your street, clicking the button in his car that opens the garage. He barely has the chance to take the keys out of the ignition before you pull him out of the car. “Don’t have time to make it up to the bed, just fuck me right here.” You demand, leaning over the car and presenting Satoru with your ass. Satoru pulls your dress up and shoves his cock into your pussy. He reaches over your hip to stimulate your clit. “‘Toru, just cum in me, I don't care ‘bout gettin’ off.” You move your ass in perfect sync with his hips. “You sure Love–” “Breed me ‘Toru!” You moan, feeling his cum fill you up. You drop your head to the still-warm hood of the car, finally able to catch your breath now that his load was deep in your cunt. “C’mon Love, let's finish this in the bedroom.”

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO

You peak over the corner of the hallway, winking at Toji who was busy talking to your mother. ‘Come fuck me.’ Your mouth once you catch his attention before running back up the stairs, careful not to make any noises. You told your mom that you weren't feeling well, that during the drive back from college you must’ve caught something. In all honestly, you just wanted a chance to freely fuck your stepdad without your mother coming in and out of your room. Specifically, you wanted to be bred by him, and the best way to keep his cum in you was to use several pillows and put them under your ass so his cum didn’t spill out, hence why you didn't want your mom to barge into your room. Thank God she's a germaphobe. You strip out the Pj set you threw on and lay yourself face down, ass up. Your stepdad’s favorite position. As expected, you hear your stepdad softly shut the door a few minutes later. “Desperate now, are we?” He grips your hips. “Always desperate for you Daddy.” you mumble into the bed. “Huh,” he slaps your ass before pulling you up by the hair. “Didn’t hear you slut.” “Said ‘m always desperate for you Daddy, even prepared myself with the dildo you bought me.” You whimper. “Such a good girl,” He pulls his hard cock out of his slacks, gives it a few tugs before stuffing your cunt to the brim. “Now take this dick slut.” He pushes your head down into your lilac duvet. You try and fail to be silent when his dick hits that special spot every time he goes deep enough. “You okay in there, y/n?” You hear your mother's muffled voice through the door. You clench down on your daddy's dick in surprise, causing him to fuck you faster. “Y/n?” “Y-yes mom, I'm fine, just go away p-please.” You gasp out, throwing your head back into the bed in ecstasy when you hear her mumble and walk away. “Daddy, 'm cumming! Cum with me!” You whisper-yell. “Gonna fill this pussy, get you so full of my seed you can never leave this house again.” He grunts, slamming into you at a bruising pace. “Yes, please Daddy, fill me up!” You orgasm and Toji follows suit, filling you with so much cum it spills out.

☾ GETO SUGURU

“I'm so full Sugu.” You mumble, dazed. You fight the urge to close your eyes and fall back into Suguru’s big, warm chest. “Wake up sweet girl. ‘M not done yet.” He mumbles into your sweaty neck. “B-but Sugu–” “Shush Lovebug, one more time.” Suguru looks over your shoulder to see where you two are connected. He plugged you up good, but after so many loads a trickle of his cum slowly travels down his almost empty balls. “O-one more.” You grab his chin and kiss him sweetly. He rubs your noses together before grabbing your hips and moving you down the shaft of his cock. He pays close attention to not pull you over the tip of his cock. You hold onto your stomach, feeling it protrude slightly more than normal, Sugu’s cock and cum inflating you. You feel like a cum filled, flesh light as Sugu moves you to his liking. It’s hard to believe he has more cum in him. “Fuck Lovebug, you feel so warm and tight.” He mummers, giving you a few more neck kisses. You lean closer into him. Right now, you want to live in his skin. “Love you Sugu, can’t wait ta have your baby.” “I Love you too, can’t wait to see you carryin’ my child.” He grips your hips tighter at the thought. “‘bout to fuck another load into you sweet girl, you wan’ it?” “Yes please, more than anything.” You rest your head back into his shoulder. He shrugs at your head until your mouth is close enough to kiss. He slams your hips down and cums as you two make out and whisper sweet nothings.

☾ CHOSO KAMO

“Again, Baby.” Choso holds the vibrator to your clit. You arch your back and forget the fact that you have nipple clamps on. You scream when the clamps move. Your entire body is sensitive, Choso came up with the idea to simulate you to the max when you said you wanted to have his baby, that you wanted him to breed to and fill you to the brim with his cum. You readily agreed to his idea because you knew that the more orgasms you had the better chance you had to get pregnant, something about the virginal walls relaxing when women orgasm. Now though, you’re regretting it. Choso’s been holding the vibrator on your clit for the last hour and every time you think you’ve gone numb to the sensation; he finds a way to make you cum harder than the last. “N-no Choso, ‘m done down, I've cum as I can, wan’ you to fuckmenow!” You slur your words, the pleasure making you lightheaded. “One more Babygirl.” He soothes you, rubbing your stomach and imagining what you’d look like full of his cum. Beautiful, you’d look beautiful. “At least fuck me while you give me another orgasm!” You argue, staring at him with glossed-over puppy eyes. Choso gives in and situates himself between your legs, still holding the vibrator over your clit. You sigh happily when he sets the vibrator down and thrust his cock in you. You thought you were completely numb down there but the feeling of Choso thrusting into your hole that’s been contracting nothing felt godly. Adding that with the vibrator that he put back on your clit, you come immediately. “Choso!” You scream clenching around him so tight he can’t help cumming. “Fuck! ‘M filling you up so good baby!”

7K notes · View notes

misswynters · 3 months ago

Text

Brothel

Sevika x afab!reader / wc: ?

warnings: 18+, BITING (thanks to ep. 3), smut with no plot, dom! sevika, fingering, sub! reader

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3

let me know if you would like to be tagged in my writings

The dim, warm glow of the brothel's lanterns cast a haze over the room, filling the space with a sense of secrecy and allure. It was here, in a secluded corner draped with plush cushions, that you found yourself in Sevika's strong embrace. Her presence was magnetic, her intensity drawing you in with every touch, every stolen glance. This was unfamiliar territory for someone from Piltover, yet with Sevika, it just felt right.

She watched you with a smirk, her eyes dark and calculating, her gloved metal hand tracing a line down your arm with an almost possessive air. "You Piltover types don't usually end up here," she teased, her voice low and gravelly.

"What's the matter? Too good for this side of the bridge?" Your breath hitched as her lips found the curve of your neck, sharp and demanding, leaving a trail of warmth across your skin. You felt yourself leaning into her, yielding to the strength of her body pressed against yours. Sevika's hands roamed confidently, as if claiming every inch of your body with each touch.

Somehow, she knew just how to ignite every nerve, her fingers tracing lines that left you breathless. Her lips brushed against your neck, and you couldn't hold back the quiet moan that slipped from your lips. Her hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a rough whisper. "I knew you'd like it."

As her mouth moved lower, she grinned against your skin, savoring every reaction. The pleasure was intense, building like a fire within you, and when her teeth grazed your collarbone, you couldn't help but let your own teeth sink into her shoulder in response, a desperate attempt to steady yourself against the overwhelming sensation. Sevika's body tensed slightly, and instead of pulling away, she let out a low, satisfied growl.

"Not as innocent as you look, are you?" she murmured, clearly enjoying the way you clung to her, marking her with your bite. She shifted slightly, pulling you even closer. "You're just full of surprises," she chuckled, her hand sliding up to cup your face, guiding you to look into her eyes. The intensity in her gaze was undeniable, dark and filled with a hunger that sent a thrill through you.

"Go on," she urged, her voice low and filled with anticipation. "If that's what you need... don't hold back."

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words died as her mouth brushed along your jaw, trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck. The sensation was intense, each touch unraveling your carefully constructed composure. Her gloved metal hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, grounding you against her as she pressed her lips to the hollow of your throat, lingering long enough to make you shiver.

A low chuckle escaped her as she felt you tremble. "There it is... just let go. Don't fight it." Her voice was a rumbling whisper against your skin, full of knowing confidence. She bit gently at your collarbone, and a strangled gasp escaped you. Without thinking, you clutched her shoulders, sinking your teeth yet again, into her as a means of grounding yourself. Desperately trying to find anything to hold onto in the face of the overwhelming pleasure she’s giving you.

To your surprise, Sevika let out a low, appreciative growl, her eyes flashing with a thrill you hadn't expected. "Now that's more like it," she purred, her smirk growing as she pulled back just enough to look at you. Her gaze was predatory, dark with a mixture of approval and challenge. "Not so prim after all, are you?"

You felt heat rise to your face, but she didn't give you a chance to reply, her hand sliding down your back, pressing you closer against her. "Good. I want you to feel every second of this," she whispered, her voice low and intense.

"So don't hold back on me. Let me hear you."

Her hand slid down to your thigh, guiding it up over her hip with a firm yet gentle touch. She held you steady, her eyes never leaving yours as her fingers traced firm, reassuring circles against your skin. "I'm right here," she murmured. "Just relax... let me take care of you." Her voice was a steady anchor, pulling you deeper into the moment, every word laced with that commanding edge that made your pulse race.

The sensations were intense, overwhelming, and every time you felt yourself losing control, her hand would tighten, guiding you back, her voice a steady whisper against your ear. "That's it... just like that," she murmured, encouraging you with a gentleness that was almost surprising. "Don't be afraid to take what you want."

Sevika's gaze held a gleam of dark intent as her metal fingers traced over your hips, the coolness of the metal sending a shiver up your spine. Her smirk deepened as she watched your reaction, clearly enjoying the way you arched instinctively under her touch.

She was meticulous, taking her time, each movement deliberate as she let her hand linger, mapping out every inch of your skin with the smooth, unyielding surface.

"Relax," she murmured, her voice low and commanding as she slid her hand lower, the metal a striking contrast against the warmth of your skin. "You wanted something different, didn't you?" Her lips were close to your ear, her breath hot as her fingers pressed just a little harder, testing the limits of your comfort. She worked in slow, steady circles against your clit, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race.

Her other hand remained warm and grounding on your thigh, keeping you still as she let her metal fingers explore, her touch both soothing and electrifying. Each motion sent sparks through you, the contrast between warmth and coolness, softness and hardness, blending into a sensation that had you on edge. You tried to stifle a gasp, but Sevika noticed, her smirk deepening.

"Oh, don't hold back now," she drawled, her voice laced with a teasing edge. "I want to hear you."

Sevika's touch was almost too much, the metal fingers moving inside you reaching deeper, each steady motion making you shudder. She watched every reaction, her gaze sharp, her focus never wavering. You felt yourself losing control, every movement of her fingers inside you driving you closer to the edge. Each slow, deliberate touch made you tremble, your breath hitching as you tried to stifle the sounds escaping you.

"Sevika... I.." you gasped, struggling to find words as the intensity built. Her fingers moved with calculated precision, unrelenting, and as you continued to reach your climax, you instinctively tried to pull back. But Sevika's hand tightened on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, her gaze narrowing as she watched you squirm beneath her.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere," she murmured, a smug grin on her lips as she took in the effect she had on you. "I told you, I want you to feel every second of this."

Sevika's fingers worked expertly, her movements rhythmic and deliberate, each motion coaxing out more of the heat building inside you. The room was filled with the unmistakable, wet sounds of her fingers moving inside your folds. The wetness coated her metal fingers, glistening in the dim light as they slid in and out with ease. The noises growing louder with every movement, that it surely can be heard from outside the room. Luckily everyone knew better than to interrupt when sevika has business with you.

She noticed, a grin spreading across her lips as she looked down, clearly proud of the effect she had on you. "You hear that?" she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "That's all you, making such a mess for me." You whimpered, your face flushed as you tried to turn away, but she guided your chin back with her free hand, forcing you to meet her intense gaze.

"Don't hide from me. I want to see every reaction," she ordered, her voice both commanding and gentle. Her fingers continued their steady rhythm, now slick with your arousal, each movement creating an unmistakable wet, squelching sound that filled the small room. The sensations were almost too much, and as her fingers pressed against your clit, you instinctively tried to pull back, feeling the heat of pleasure growing almost too intense. But Sevika's other hand pressed firmly on your upper thigh, keeping you anchored to her, her grip strong and unyielding. "Don't even think about it," she growled softly, amusement coloring her tone.

"You're going to stay right here and take it." Her gaze flicked down to where her long slender fingers were inside. Her smirk only grew as she watched the way her hand gleamed, coated in your arousal.

"So damn wet... all for me," she muttered, almost to herself, as if fascinated. As the pleasure intensified, you couldn't hold back the noises slipping from your lips, and Sevika noticed, lifting her hand toward your mouth. "Bite down if you have to," she commanded gently, her voice low and almost possessive. You hesitated but felt another wave of sensation, so you did as she instructed, biting down gently on her rough palm, your muffled moans blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds her fingers created. You were so lost in the pleasure of her fingers that you count control yourself, slobbering over her hand. And she liked it.

"Good girl," Sevika murmured, her words filled with approval as she felt you tense and writhe beneath her. The pace of her fingers quickened, each movement slick and unrelenting, the wetness intensifying as she continued, her fingers gliding in and out effortlessly. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your skin as she whispered, "Let go for me. Don't hold back."

The pressure built to a breaking point, her fingers working in relentless rhythm, the wet sounds a constant reminder of just how thoroughly she had unraveled you. When the release finally overtook you, it hit like a wave, and Sevika didn't stop, her fingers coaxing out every last shudder, her smirk widening as she felt the intensity of your reaction.

"There it is," she murmured, her tone filled with satisfaction as her fingers slowed, wet and glistening from the pleasure she had pulled from you. She leaned close, brushing a gentle kiss to your cheek as you caught your breath, her eyes filled with pride. "You did good."

taglist: @untitled-locket @cestlaprincesa @ohboi @themostlesbianever

banners: @cafekitsune

#sevika arcane #sevika smut #sevika fics ⟠ ࣪ .#sevika x reader #arcane #arcane sevika #sevika #arcane smut #arcane x reader #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 #arcane characters #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane masterlist #arcane x y/n

2K notes · View notes

foldingfittedsheets · 10 months ago

Text

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #story #writing #my beloved #fun fact I'm the same way on roller coasters #I just scream a terrified narration and my beloved thinks its the funnies thing

3K notes · View notes

rafelandia · 3 months ago

Text

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers.

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times.

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife.

Good. She was sleeping.

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely.

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door.

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so.

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.”

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list.

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister.

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.”

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this?

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands.

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his.

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face.

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now.

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did.

With two babies.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe x reader #dad rafe #dad!rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe x fem!reader #rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey x reader

2K notes · View notes

promisingyounglady · 11 months ago

Text

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

4K notes · View notes