#youre still young-- you should have a baby right now

[revelboo]

Auggah i cannot hold my children. Unless they mass displace, but they too baby to know how to properly do that with precision. Imagine mass displaced shenanigans with sparkling makes them blokee size? Cradling your babies inside your palms. Cupping them and staring at them while fussing and suddenly understanding how your alien partner sees you. Uugshshbs. My fictional babies. They don’t even properly exist and im already so attached and weeping for them. The lost light angst piece doesn’t help either. Twin kitten sparklings from cygate and megs sparkling. Honestly just Megatron in general with a protoform of a sparkling. Its so tiny in his servos and he can see aspects of your features so carefully placed and formed from choosing. The moment he watches as the little one goes online and he falls in love for the second time in his life. Aishhshsjsnsjh. Wheeljack as a sire makes go wild too. Honestly any or ang bot with their little sparkling makes weepy. Im getting baby fever for fictional mega robot aliens on a friday afternoon. Ooakahb. Revel im getting sick.

Does Soundwave’s tiny kitchen help any? At some point, Shockwave just starts hanging around out of morbid curiosity about the mess the other three are in. No one invited him, he’s like a stray they fed one time and now he just lives here

Everything Is Alright Pt 139

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Normally sparklings aren’t bigger than their carrier,” Megatron mutters, optics narrowing. But then nothing about this is normal. Aware of why you’re uneasy as he clears his vents with a little huff. Because you’re so fragile, something a sparkling isn’t going to understand and now he’s worrying about it. This shouldn’t even be a problem, but being accidentally mated to a human just keeps throwing him unexpected curves. And it’s not like he has that much experience with sparklings. Doubts Starscream does, either. Soundwave at least knows what he’s doing. “We may need to keep you separated from the sparklings until they’re aware enough to understand and recognize that you’re their carrier. And delicate.”

• Wings flaring when your face crumples, he’s half afraid you’re about to start crying again, but you’re silent. Clearly not liking Megatron’s suggestion. And he’s annoyed that the warlord thinks he even has a right to voice his opinion on you and his sparkling. “There’s always a possibility that the spark won’t develop fully because it’s part human. We might very well end up with a human sized Cybertronian,” he mutters, servos gently pressing you to his chassis alongside his cockpit. Soothing himself with the feel of your heartbeat as he frowns to himself. A tiny Seeker is a helpless, Seeker.

• “Size is irrelevant,” Soundwave growls, knows most Cybertronians tend to dismiss or look down on mini bots and cassettes figuratively and literally, and it’s always bothered him. If the sparkling is cassette sized, he’ll still love it. Watching you look from him to Starscream and back to Megatron, your expression bothers him. Makes him want to take you back from the Seeker. Hide you away again and keep you there. Refuse to share you with them while you’re sparked with his young.

• They’re talking at least without brawling and that’s progress. Resting your cheek against Star, your heart aches. You hadn’t even really wanted kids, never really thought about it, but now that it’s happening, you’re aware that you’re probably not going to have those milestones most parents get. That from the sound of it, Megatron intends to keep you away from your own sparklings for your safety. And you get it because you’re concerned about being hurt accidentally, but you still hate it. “And Shockwave designs the protoform?”

• “He will,” Megatron says, jaw clenching, because that’s one more problem. Sooner or later, they’ll need to request he build a protoform and then there’ll be no keeping the fact that humans can be sparked a secret. Knows he should probably warn at least the Decepticons with humans that it’s possible, but they’ll have to realize you’re sparked. Might start questioning why he’s so involved in your life and wellbeing. Why you matter to him. Because you’re the biggest threat to the Decepticon cause right now. One ridiculously fragile human that can likely be accidentally offlined by your own sparkling, and wiping out most of the Decepticon command as collateral damage in the process. Groaning, he rubs a servo against his helm. Why had he saved you again?

• Flicking out his wings when Soundwave reaches as if to take you away, Starscream rumbles a warning that you’re still his. Even if Soundwave sparked you. Can’t even muster the energy to be annoyed with you for letting the other mech bond and spark you. Knows it was most likely his fault, maybe it’s your way of retaliating for him severing that partial bond and almost costing you your life. Lashing out because he was afraid of losing you. Because he was upset with you for loving Soundwave to begin with when you’re his. And trying to hurt someone else when he’s hurting is something he knows too well. Something he learned under Megatron’s fists, but he doesn’t want to be like him. Doesn’t want to keep sabotaging himself because he’s afraid.

Previous

[jilyandbambi]

Everything about how Coach Ben's Trial plays out just makes me feel so sad and devastated for all of them. I can't even hate them for what they did or are about to do. They're just kids, man.

Shauna is grieving and angry and postpartum and scared, and she's got nowhere to put any of that except onto Ben, the grown up--who didn't burn the cabin down but who did turn away from her when she needed him most. It's a powerful thing when you're that age and angry/sad/frustrated about everything (bc you're a kid) and to have a safe adult to be pissed at: an adult who cares but isn't perfect (no one is, and you're a kid so you're still learning to accept this), who let you down right at the exact moment you needed them to be the Grown Up with all the answers, and maybe their fuck up was only one of 254884113 things going wrong in your life at that point but you're 17--old enough to know that adults don't have all the answers and young enough that it still feels like they should, and when they don't, that's their fault too.

It's irrational, immature, and dangerous (Thy name is Shauna Shipman), which is what kids are, and what each of these kids are, to varying degrees; and why Shauna gets her way in the end.

It isn't their coach's fault that their plane crashed, that they starved for months, that they resorted to eating their team captain, that they let Javi drown so they could gut him and eat him, that Shauna's baby was stillborn, or that their cabin burned down. But they're kids and everything is awful and in between all the awful the adult in the room dropped the ball when they needed him, and now the trauma, and guilt, and shame, and pain, and rage has to go somewhere, and Coach Ben is a more tangible target than an invisible wilderness god. It doesn't matter that he clearly didn't set the fire and doesn't wish them any harm, the lie is too convenient.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Mari doesn't have to own up to the fact that she didn't tell the truth when she got back to camp, that she let the others continue thinking their coach was out there still hunting them.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, there's no need for Travis to rock the boat and stand up for the only other person besides himself to be as disgusted and horrified at what the others did to his little brother.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Van (the only other person besides Shauna and Melissa to vote Guilty every time) doesn't have to worry about the others taking a second look at what her sleepwalking girlfriend could have been doing the night of.

If Coach Ben didn't set the cabin on fire, Tai might have to poke deeper at Van's insistence on his guilt despite all evidence to the contrary, and she might not like the answer. Add to that, if Coach Ben is innocent, then Nat was right to keep what she knew from the rest of them and Tai was wrong to collude with Shauna to her call her out in front of everyone, and maybe that makes Nat a better choice of leader than Tai would've been after all.

If the wilderness says Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, then maybe it's finally starting to speak to Lottie again, maybe she hasn't completely lost her connection to it after all.

And it's so, so fucked up because beneath all of them rallying behind this cruel, vengeful, childish decision to blame Coach Ben anyway is an understandable desire to have a say in all the uncertainty and turmoil that's taken over their lives by this point. That adolescent need for control--not just over your environment but your emotions, especially the negative ones--can make kids living in the best circumstances lash out. Here, with everything the Yellowjackets have been through and have already done, it was always going to have the worst possible outcome. And watching it all play out as an adult is just--ughhhhh. Heartbreaking.

Because that adolescent turmoil that makes you an angry freakshow who lashes out at the right people at the wrong times, or (more often than not) the wrong people at the wrong times--sometimes knowingly? That's normal. This is the time to be that way. You're supposed to have the space to get it all out and grow past it.

But the Yellowjackets don't and won't, and it'll ruin them, especially the ones that make it out alive.

Yeah, Shauna, taking your rage and grief out on Coach Ben feels good to you now; taking any action, even if it's clearly the wrong one, feels powerful and right in the moment, but it won't last. The rest of you lemmings letting her have her way for your own reasons feel justified for now, but that won't last either. By the time the full weight of what you've done hits you, it'll be too late. When the regret comes you won't know how to face it and you never will, and so you'll be stuck. You'll be 17 and haunted at 20 and 30 and 45, still getting in your own way and not realizing it until it's too late. You'll get older but you'll never grow up, and you'll never understand why.

[lvnleah]

a different path | awfc x young!reader

find the no more secrets universe masterlist here!

You woke up hot and sweaty as another wave of nausea overtook you. You threw the duvet off of your clammy body before rushing to the bathroom and throwing yourself down onto the floor. 

You crouched over the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach as you barely made it in time. Tears slowly dripped down your cheek as you held your hair back away from your face, the thought of one thing playing on your mind. 

You were convinced that you were pregnant. 

You sat there on the cold bathroom floor, your head spinning. The nausea was unbearable, and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that the test had been right, the doubts kept creeping in. 

Two weeks had passed since that day, and everything felt different now. Your body didn’t feel like your own. Each day, it was as if the symptoms were magnifying, the exhaustion and sickness weighing you down alongside the tenderness in your boobs that made you want to cut them off. 

You had tried to ignore it at first, hoping it would all go away, but each time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who didn’t look like herself. Even the thought of food made your stomach churn.

You finally dragged yourself off the bathroom floor, your body heavy and sore. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you barely recognized the girl looking back at you. It was hard to deny it now, no matter how much you wanted to. 

It wasn’t just the physical symptoms that were terrifying, it was everything that came with the idea of being pregnant. Your career, your future, everything you’d worked for. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready for a baby, and you certainly weren’t prepared to be alone in all of this.

You checked the time on your phone that had been abandoned on the ground, it read 8:08am meaning that Steph and Beth should both be up by now. Just as you grabbed your toothbrush, another wave of nausea hit you and you were back on the ground. 

Steph raised her eyebrow, giving Beth a look as they both ate their breakfast, “Do you hear that? Is that Hayden in the bathroom?”

Beth looked up from her bowl of cereal, frowning as she listened intently to the sounds coming from the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the muffled noises of someone retching sent a tight knot of concern straight to her chest.

“Yeah, that sounds like H,” she replied, setting her spoon down. “I’ll go check on her.”

Steph nodded but didn’t say anything, her expression filled with quiet worry. She was used to seeing you tough it out, always keeping her emotions and struggles to yourself, but the sounds coming from the bathroom were different. 

Something wasn’t right.

Beth stood up, walking toward the hallway with a sense of urgency. She knocked gently on the bathroom door before pushing it open, her heart sinking as she saw you kneeling on the floor, your face pale and drenched with sweat. The sight of you, so vulnerable, made Beth’s stomach twist.

“Oh, kiddo,” Beth’s voice was soft, filled with concern. She crouched down beside you, gently rubbing your back, “It’s okay, H. Let it all out, yeah?”

“Steph!” Beth called into the kitchen, “Can you grab Hayden a glass of water please?”

“I… I’m fine,” you muttered, though the words lacked conviction. You wiped at her face, still not meeting Beth’s gaze.

Steph appeared in the doorway then, with a glass of water in her hand, “Here you go, kiddo. Have a sip, it’ll help.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, taking the glass and bringing it up to your lips as your hands trembled. 

Beth frowned. “You’re not fine,” she insisted gently. “You’ve been acting strange for the past couple of weeks. And now this. Hayden, talk to us.”

Finally, you looked up, your eyes filled with tears that you tried so desperately to keep hidden. You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first. 

The silence stretched, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you said, “I think I’m pregnant.”

“I…I don’t know what to do,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I’m scared.”

“But the test was negative?” Beth said, “The doctor said you’re not pregnant?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes welling up with tears as you sat back and hugged your knees to your chest. “Yeah, it was negative. But…everything feels wrong. My body feels different, and I’ve been so sick. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s true, even though the test said otherwise.”

“Oh, Hayden,” Steph sighed, sitting down in front of you, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it though?” You murmured, a hiccup escaping your lips, “I’m twenty, Steph. Twenty and could be fucking pregnant. My life, my career, everything is going to be over for me!”

Steph reached forward, placing a hand gently on your knee, “Hey, look at me,” she said softly, her voice steady but full of understanding. “I know you’re scared. I’d be terrified too but you’re not alone in this and you never will be. You don’t have to go through it by yourself. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

You swallowed hard, wiping at your eyes, but the tears didn’t stop. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to ruin everything. I’m not ready for this. What if it changes everything? What if everyone thinks I’m a failure?”

“You’re not a failure,” Beth said firmly, her voice gentle but unwavering. “No matter what happens, you’re not a failure. And nothing is going to ruin everything. Your career, your dreams, none of that has to end just because you’re facing something unexpected. We’ll help you figure it out.”

Steph nodded in agreement. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, kiddo. But whatever happens, we’re here for you. You don’t have to decide everything today.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. The panic and fear were still there, lurking in your mind, “I don’t even know if I can do this, you know?” you whispered. “It’s too big. Too much.”

You took a deep breath, “Can one of you get me a test please?”

Steph nodded, “Of course we can. How about I pop to the shop and get one, some snacks too, yeah?”

Beth nodded, giving a small smile. “And I’ll stay here with you, kiddo. No need to be alone with all this.”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Thanks… I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

Steph smiled as she stood up from the bathroom floor. “Don’t even think about that, okay? You’ve got us. I’ll be right back, and we’ll get through this one step at a time.”

As Steph left, you and Beth moved to the living room. “Take a few deep breaths,” she said softly as you sat on the sofa. “I know it’s a lot to handle, but remember one thing at a time.”

You nodded, trying to focus on your breathing. The nausea had subsided a little for the moment, but the anxiety was still there, tight in your chest. “I feel like I’m all over the place. What if it’s positive? What happens then?”

“We figure it out together like we always do. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Beth reassured you. “Everyone will support you.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, the knot in your stomach loosening just a bit. “I hope...”

Steph returned a short while later with a bag of snacks and a box of pregnancy tests. “Here you go,” she said, setting the items down on the counter. “I got you some chocolate too. You’re probably going to need it.”

You managed a small smile, feeling a bit of relief wash over you as Steph set the test down on the coffee table. “Thanks, Steph.”

The room was quiet as you sat there, the test staring back at you like it held the answers to everything you feared. With a deep breath, you slowly got to your feet and took it from the table. “Okay, I’m going to take it.”

You closed the bathroom door behind you, the silence almost suffocating as you held the test in your hand. The plastic stick seemed so small and insignificant, yet it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on it. Your mind was racing, every possible outcome playing out like a movie in your head.

You set the test down on the edge of the sink and took another deep breath. You could hear Beth and Steph talking softly in the living room, their voices a distant comfort. The fear was still there, gnawing at you, but you tried to steady your hands as you followed the instructions.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the rhythm of your breath, to keep the anxiety at bay. But it was hard, so hard to stop the worries that flooded your thoughts. What would this mean for your future? Would your career be over before it even really began? What if everyone judged you?

After three long minutes, the timer you had set on your phone finally went off. You took a deep breath before flipping over all three tests. 

And then, there it was. 

Three positive tests. 

You felt your stomach drop as the realization hit. It was positive. 

You were pregnant.

Your eyes burned, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to spin. “No,” you whispered under your breath, feeling the tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. “No, no, no. Fuck!”

You stared at the tests again, willing them to change, to somehow tell you that this was just a mistake, that everything would go back to normal. But it was still there. The lines are clear as day.

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts.

“Hey, H? You okay in there?” It was Steph’s voice, soft and careful.

You didn’t respond at first, unsure of what to say. The silence between you and the test felt deafening. But then, you managed to croak, “It—they’re positive.”

You could hear the sharp intake of breath from the other side. “Okay,” Steph said, her voice steady. “Okay, we’re here, kiddo. Just… come out when you’re ready.”

You took one last glance at the test before stepping out of the bathroom. Steph and Beth were standing on the other side of the door. 

“Hey,” Beth said softly, rising to her feet as she moved toward you. “You don’t have to say anything yet, okay? We’re here. You don’t have to make any decisions today.”

“I’m scared,” you whispered, the words coming out so small, so fragile. “I don’t know what to do.”

Beth stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. “We’ll figure it out, kiddo.”

You collapsed into Beth as she held you close. You sobbed in her arms, tears not stopping. 

Steph rubbed your back gently, her other hand resting on your shoulder as Beth held you tightly. “Just let it out, H,” she murmured. “It’s okay.”

You clung to Beth like a lifeline, your whole body shaking. You had no idea how long you stayed there, but eventually, the sobs turned into quiet sniffles, your breathing still shaky but steadier than before.

Beth pulled back slightly, keeping her hands on your arms as she looked at you. “Come sit down, yeah? You need to drink some water.” She guided you toward the sofa, and you let her, feeling like you were moving in a daze.

Steph sat down next to you, passing you the glass of water again. “Sip it slowly,” she instructed gently.

You nodded, taking small sips as Beth sat on your other side, her hand never leaving your back. The weight of everything still felt suffocating, but at least you weren’t alone.

After a moment of silence, Steph spoke up again. “Listen, H. This doesn’t mean your life is over, okay? It’s a big thing, yeah, but you don’t have to figure everything out all at once.”

You swallowed hard, staring down at the water in your hands. “I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you admitted. “I was just getting started, you know? Football…everything.”

Steph reached for your hand, squeezing it. “And that doesn’t have to change if you don’t want it to. Loads of women have careers and families, you know that.”

“But it’s not what I planned,” you whispered, voice raw.

Beth sighed, “Life doesn’t always go to plan, kiddo. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still have the things you want. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, “I—I think I want to—to keep the baby.” You stuttered.

“Yeah?” Steph said, a smile peeking onto your face, “A little baby Hayden?”

A weak laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. “Yeah,” you murmured, “A little baby Hayden.” Saying it out loud made it feel more real like the weight of the decision had fully settled into your chest.

Beth let out a small breath, her hand squeezing your shoulder. “Then that’s all that matters. You’ll be the best Mummy.”

You bit your lip, nerves creeping back in. “But how am I supposed to do this? What if I’m not cut out for it? What if I mess them up?”

Steph shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. “H, nobody has all the answers when they start. But you’ve got us. You’ve got the team. You won’t be doing this alone.”

Beth nodded firmly. “And you’ll be a brilliant Mummy, I know it. And we’ll be the best Auntie Beffy and Steffy.”

You let out a shaky laugh, “Oh god, this poor kid.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding. The fear was still there, twisting in your gut, but for the first time since you saw that stupid test, it didn’t feel all-consuming. 

It still felt overwhelming, terrifying even, but with Steph and Beth beside you, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

You weren’t alone and you never would be now.

[cuteandhughesy]

hello can you do print 5 with nathan mackinnon?

love your writing and congrats <33

prompt no 5: "yeah, well he should learn to keep his hands to himself"

a/n: this takes place when gabe landeskog’s son, luke, was just a wee little baby!

when melissa landeskog and gabe landeskog asked you to babysit their kids for two days while they travelled out of town for something to help with gabe’s knee surgery recovery, you didn’t even think twice before saying yes.

you loved those kids. linnea who’s almost four, was just a little ball of adorable pigtails and energy. she’s obsessed with nathan, always wanting to be aorund him even if that means simply lounging on the couch or making salad at the kitchen island.

and luke, who’s still just a baby—nearly one—was just a dream. he was always happy to just sit with you, fiddling with your hair or your shirt or whatever part he could get his chubby little fingers on.

do not only was having the landeskog kids for the night no brainer, you were also doing mel and gabe a huge favour—which for them, was everything.

last time you’d properly seen luke, he was still young enough where he was constantly sleeping and pooping. but now, he was lively. it was honestly keeping you entertained, much more than the episode of paw patrol playing on tv.

linnea was sitting on the carpet, still in her pyjamas even though it was almost 10 in the morning. she’s still got jam on her face from breakfast, but she looks so engrossed in the episode that you’re just letting her be—sticky and all.

nathan’s lounging beside you, one leg bent and foot flat on the rug, while his other leg rests on the coffee table. his eyes are also on the tv, he’s not really watching the show, but it’s keeping him entertained enough. every now and then he’ll look over at you, nestled beside him with luke sitting contently in your lap.

everytime you catch his eyes you smile, and nathan returns it. but when he catches luke’s eyes, the little boy giggles. and not just a small bubble of giggle, but a deep belly laugh, little body shaking as he looks up at your boyfriend.

nathan isn’t even doing anything, but it’s still funny to little luke. it’s been going on for 20 minutes, almost the entire length of two paw patrol episodes.

and now luke’s almost trying to get nathan’s attention. his small little hands flatten on your chest, digging into the flesh of your boobs as he tries to sneakily peek at nathan.

and nathan knows it. slowly, he turns his head, eyes squinted playfully at the baby. he reaches out, tickling the side of his wiggly body until luke is laughing—which doesn’t take long at all.

“are you looking at me mister?” he says in the softest voice, fingers still running over the striped baby onsie sitting snugly on luke’s body.

luke laughs again, looking away from nathan and plopping his head right between your boobs, hiding from nathan and his tickles. you laugh in amusement, running your hand over his tiny back soothingly.

“excuse me little man,” nathan mutters, “those are my boobies, not yours.”

luke peeks at your boyfriend, and once he sees that nathan is still paying attention, he hides again, fisting your shirt between his pudgy fingers. it exposes your boob more, much to nathan’s dismay. “hey,” he mumbles, taking luke’s hand and playfully nibbling it, “you trying to cop a feel?”

you laugh again, “nathan! he’s a baby.”

“yeah, well he should learn to keep his hands to himself.” he says lightly, shooting you a playful glance before he’s turning his attention back to luke, tickling him once again. the heavenly sound of baby laughter flows through your home, making everything feel warm and complete.

“you’re ridiculous,” you say to nathan, an adorning half smile on your face. “isn’t uncle nate ridiculous?”

—

(unedited)

[mintmatcha]

in the mood to share a couple crumbs of your endeavor thoughts?🥺🤲

... I think he is still married, but the love between them is long dead. the kids are mostly adults, his wife has her own place-

but God, he still gets a thrill sneaking you into his home late at night.

theres an even bigger thrill in being the man with a much too young girlfriend.

youre so much smaller than him... pussy so tight that you always kick and squeal and whine when he pushes in. oh, he can feel your heartbeat around his cock, especially when he throws a hand around the back of your neck to pin you down--

he always cums so deep, pressed so hard against your cervix that it makes you walk funny afterwards

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.

When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.

As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.

That was until, he met you, of course.

Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.

Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.

Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.

No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.

But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.

Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.

Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.

He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.

It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.

You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.

The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.

Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

rafe having no boundaries and grabbing his girlfriend's ass in front of family during a family trip

A little Rafe and Sarah being siblings

—

‘’Can you not do that here?’’ Sarah grimaced after Rafe wandered in and smacked your ass on his way to the fridge. ‘’We’re cooking. That’s gross.’’ 

You and Sarah had woken up earlier than everyone else and decided to whip some pancake batter. They were coming along nicely, slowly piling up on a plate.

Rafe rolled his eyes in response and leaned against the kitchen counter. ‘’Chill out, Sarah. I’m just saying ‘good morning’ to my girl.’’

Sarah scoffed, giving him a glare as you flipped out the pancake in the pan. ‘’Well, keep your 'good mornings' to yourself until after breakfast and when I’m not around, alright? I’ve seen and heard enough things I didn’t want to.’’ 

Your cheeks turned red and you kept your eyes on the pan, embarrassed as memories of Sarah catching you topless in their pool and all the times she heard you through the walls of Tannyhill before Rafe got his own place. You’ll never apologize to her enough. 

‘’Stop acting like a prude. I’ve heard you on the phone with that pogue you’re seeing. Ahh, John B., I wish your fingers were inside me. I’m so close, I need to—’’ 

Sarah grabbed a blueberry and threw it at her brother, her face burning hot at his mockery. If eyes could kill, Rafe would be a dead man. She looked murderous. 

Rafe smirked, unfazed by the blueberry that was thrown his way. He crossed his arms crossed over his broad chest, and his blue eyes flickered with amusement. ‘’These walls are old. Did you think I couldn’t hear you?’’ 

To avoid a Sarah vs Rafe duel from happening, you asked Rafe if he wanted chocolate chips or blueberries in his pancakes. You already knew the answer, but you needed to defuse the bomb before it would explode. 

‘’Blueberries. You know how I like my pancakes, baby,’’ he said, pushing himself off the counter and closing the distance between you and him in a few strides. 

Sarah shot a glare in his direction, her eyes narrowing, but Rafe chose to ignore her and kiss your shoulder, standing right behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back and resting his chin above your shoulder.

‘’Rafe, you’re distracting me,’’ you warned, pouring batter in the pan and adding some blueberries. 

Rafe laughed lowly, his chest rumbling against your back as his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear, his lips lingering on your skin for a few seconds. ‘’These look good. Think we can take the pancakes to bed after you’re done?’’ 

Breakfast in bed, away from everyone else, sounded tempting. You've had breakfast with the Camerons since you arrived, sticking to the polite routine. You missed being alone with Rafe in the morning, taking it slow and engaging in non-PG activities.  

Before you answered, Sarah cleared her throat beside you, a disapproving look on her face. Rafe thought he was subtle and sleek when he had his hand wander under your robe. 

He lifted his head and gave her a cocky grin. ''What?'' 

‘’In case you forgot, I’m still here,'' the blonde recalled, taking a few plates from the cupboards and deciding to set the table. ‘’And Wheezie and Dad and Rose are gonna come down soon.’’ 

‘’I know,'' Rafe replied, stepping back and letting you finish the pancakes. ''If you had not been here, I would have her bent over the counter already.’’ 

His words should have shocked you, but you were used to his bluntness by now. Rafe never held back, always saying exactly what was on his mind, no matter how outrageous. No matter the audience. You thought he would behave and tone it down with Wheezie in the house, but he didn’t. 

Thankfully, her young ears were not around.

You looked over your shoulder, failing at hiding the smirk that tugged at the corners of your lip.

—

OBX taglist: @moralina@eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx@sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife   @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue   @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker   @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage   @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc   @pedrosprincess   @mikaelsonsstuff  @skyesthebomb   @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom   @popeheywardssecretgf  @madelynie  @loverofdrewstarkey   @radiant-whore  @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld   @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble   @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696  @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius   @buckyswhxre @emerald-09   @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey  @ynmunson @riddle18  @love4ldr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @blublock404 @eddieslut69

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Part 1

cw: death of family members

It had been five years since Simon’s last tapping-out ceremony. Back then, he had hoped he’d never again have to stand on this field, but now he was glad he was there. Clad in his ceremonial uniform, he once again watched as families tapped out their loved ones. He watched until only one was left. You. The young woman who had tapped him out five years before.

With a heavy heart, he walked up to you, coming to a stop right in front of you. He watched as silent tears streamed down your face, your eyes focusing on him. And he continued to stand there, his mind taking him back to the worst day of your life.

You had joined the military shortly after you had met Simon, cruising through basic training without issue. When Simon found out about it, he had put in a request that you get transferred to the 141 as a rookie, as soon as your training was over. You were ecstatic to be training under him and you quickly grew close with the rest of the task force. But then everything came crashing down.

Your brother died during an op. Just months after you started training with the 141, you had to bury him. Simon stood by your side as you grieved him. You grew close to each other, closer than you probably should, since he was still your superior, but it did both of you well, so Price turned a blind eye.

But when the Captain received a call just a year ago, he had Simon break it to you. Your entire family had died in a car crash. Your mother, siblings, nephews - everyone was dead. You were alone. All alone. A feeling Simon knew all too well.

When you met Simon, you never thought you’d find yourself in the same situation he was. But…you weren’t alone. You had him, and Price and Johnny and Kyle. You had your own little family, and slowly, you healed. But days like these brought all the hurt back.

Simon reached up, his hand gently cupping your face as the sob that had been building inside you for an hour finally escaped your lips. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you closer against himself. “I got ya love. I got ya.” Your tears stained his uniform as he just held you while you cried.

It took you a few minutes to calm down, but when you did, Simon gently pulled away, cupping your face and making you look up at him. “I’m so proud of you, baby. And they are, too.” You nodded, managing to smile a little at the thought of them cheering on from heaven. “Come, the boys are waiting back on base.”

Just like you had with him five years ago, he slipped his hand into yours and led you to the car park.

A/N: Part two! Hope you liked it, sorry for all the angst. Also, I almost cried writing this.

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (Two)

Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!

CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry

Part One

It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.

You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.

Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”

Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.

Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.

Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.

Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.

“Should we talk about this morning?”

You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”

The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”

You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.

His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.

“Just drop us home.”

Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.

The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”

“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“

“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”

You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.

“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.

“Thank you.”

You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.

“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”

It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.

But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.

Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.

Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.

It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.

Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.

“Let me come home, please.”

Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.

Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.

Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.

Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.

With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.

He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.

Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.

“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.

Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.

“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.

“Simon - I need more, been so long.”

He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.

“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.

He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.

Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.

You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.

“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.

You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.

“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.

You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.

“Si - no more -“

“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”

His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.

You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.

You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.

“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.

“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”

You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”

His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.

His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.

Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.

“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”

Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.

The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.

“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”

You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.

“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.

“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”

You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.

The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.

“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.

“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“

His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”

His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.

“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.

TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru

Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[goldsbitch]

Kiss with a fist

To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.

or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.

warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

//

There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.

He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.

"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.

And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.

Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.

Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”

He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.

It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.

He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.

He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"

Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."

Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.

Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.

"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.

Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.

He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"

Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"

Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.

“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.

“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.

"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.

She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.

Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.

"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.

Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.

"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.

"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.

"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.

//

He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.

The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.

He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.

The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.

“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”

Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.

"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."

Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."

Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.

"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.

Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.

The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”

“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”

“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”

There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.

"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"

Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”

"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.

"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.

"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."

This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.

Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.

"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."

Even he can't believe his tone.

"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."

Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"

"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."

"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.

"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."

"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.

It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.

"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.

"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.

"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.

"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"

"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.

Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"

It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.

Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."

"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"

Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."

"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"

"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."

"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""

Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."

Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.

"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."

Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"

Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."

Fine.

//

The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.

Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.

"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.

"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.

Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."

"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"

Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.

"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.

Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.

As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.

"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”

Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.

"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."

Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."

The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.

----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all

[darnell-la]

Can i request Logan and a reader with daddy kink...but like, shes afraid of saying that to him because her last partners treated her shitty when it came to it? (like, kinkshaming her, not wanting to take care of her)

summary: After hearing her call him what he never thought he’d love so much, he had to make sure his girl knew she was with a man and not a boy anymore.

———

“You like that, princess? Hm? Tell me you like it, baby doll,” Logan whispered in the girl's ear as he pushed deeper into her. Being fucked by Logan on Wade’s kitchen counter wasn’t something she had planned for the night.

She had thought that because Wade was out, Logan would be too tonight. Her two roommates always scold her for coming in late, telling her it’s dangerous, but she sees no problem if she is with her friends all night.

Tonight was a perfect night to leave, but when she came back to Logan sitting on the sofa, looking right at her, she froze.

He got up and walked towards her slowly, telling her how he should kick her out and back to the expensive college dorm.

Of course, he didn’t mean it, but when y/n’s eyes grew glossy, he couldn’t help but cup her chin and tell her how hard she was to deal with.

“This is what they’ll do you if you keep partying, baby. All this cunt — Ruined and messy because you’d be too weak to fight back,”

Y/n tightly gripped the man’s back, holding herself up as Logan’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her into his thrust.

“Can’t have these boys have their way with you, baby girl. You’re too innocent for that, ain’t that right?” He asked, making the young lady whine with a nod. “Oh, I know,”

Y/n was close. Her vision became blurry as she bit down on her lip, trying to keep in how wild she gets when she cums.

“That’s it — Grip my cock like that, baby. This isn’t the only thing aloud in this pretty cunt,” Logan said, as her heart rate began to rise. She couldn’t keep herself in…

“D-Daddy,” y/n whined low, hoping he would say anything. “What was that?” Logan asked as he pulled his head out of the crook of her neck.

“C-Close,” she said, hoping he’d leave it alone. “Nah uh, princess. You called me daddy,” the man said, still thrusting, but slowly. Y/n whined at how much he was delaying her orgasm.

“P-Please, just keep going,” y/n begged, hands gripping his shoulders as she looked into his eyes. “Nah uh, you say that again,” Logan had fully stopped his thrust, but kept his cock in her.

“No, Logan, please! Please, keep going!” Y/n begged as she tried moving her hips, but he held her still with his grip that was still on her waist.

“Don’t start actin’ up, baby. You’ve done enough of that tonight,” Logan warned. “B-But I need it. I was so close,” she cried low, feeling a tear drop from her eye. The sexual stress and slip-ups affected her hard.

“Why can’t you just say it again, baby? Why so difficult?” Logan asked, but she ignored him and dropped her head. “Hey,” Logan saw as he cupped the girl's chin softly to make her look back up at him.

“What’s up, Bub?” He asked. “I-I just — My last partner didn’t like it and left me for it. Said I was weird and shouldn’t be having sex,” she told her short story.

“And how old was this boyfriend of yours?” Logan asked. “O-Only a couple of years older than me,” y/n said, making the man roll his eyes with a head shake and sigh.

“Little boys like him can’t handle you. He wasn’t man enough for what you had to give him, baby. You’re not weird, you’re perfect. You understand that, baby girl?” He asked. Y/n nodded as he whipped a tear from her cheek.

“Now, call me that again, baby. Be a good girl, and I’ll show you how a real boyfriend would take that word in,” Logan said as he gripped the back of y/n’s head and began his slow thrusts.

“P-Please came me cum, d-daddy,” y/n stuttered, making the man groan low. “That’s it. Keep goin,” the man said as he slowly began to pick up his pace.

“Fuck, I- Please, daddy,” y/n begged as the man moved his hand back to y/n’s cheek. “Ah uh — That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it, baby,” Logan kept his eyes on her as she rolled hers, feeling her high near again.

“Daddy — S-So good, daddy,” y/n whined, clamping down on the man’s cock. The man twitched at her voice, words, and walls. She was perfect. So damn perfect.

“Fuck, yes, baby girl — Cum on daddy's cock. Fuckin’ soak it, baby. Soak it!” Logan snapped his hips, now pounding the younger woman.

“Augh, daddy!” Y/n cried into the man’s shoulder as she relaxed around him, shaking and digging her nails into his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, yes, girl — Cum on daddy's cock,” Logan couldn’t get enough of how good she sounded. She was from heaven. She was made for her. She was a gift, and he’ll no Logan let her leave this house unless he’s with her.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 jason meets a single father, desperate for a chance at love again. little did you know, you’re right up his alley! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, dilf!reader, red hood! jason in mind, age gap [reader is in his 30s while jason is 23] mentions of divorce, sexting, doggy style, implied size differences, breeding, jason wants to knock you up so bad omfg

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ this was lowkey a little self indulgent but can you blame me? no. now shush and enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡. — jason todd never really cared about his dating life, and really why should he? getting blown up, resurrected and busting some heads open keeps a man busy! if he’s not dealing with black mask’s goons or the bat himself, you can find him in the nearest diner enjoying his own company. that is of course..until he laid eyes on you.

ᥫ᭡. — alone and pretty, you sat at the bar stood a couple feet away from him. staring down at the empty pit of your dark coffee, you’re heart heavy and tears threatening to spill out. jason, while having a hard outer, still had a little heart to scotch over and struck up small talk with you. after all, he did say it himself that he is a good listener! after some innocent chatter, you finally allowed the friendly face to fall and began to vent to the stranger. you’re recent yet messy divorce from your ex-husband, the juvenile drama he brought, the exhausting routine of juggling work with your daughter—wait. you had a daughter?! jason eyes widened, finally allowing himself the realization. you were one hell of a dilf! <3

ᥫ᭡. — despite being nearly a decade apart in age, you looked so damn good. tired eyes peering upwards at him with that adorable, gentle smile. fuck, you were so small compared to him. he could’ve easily picked you up and threw you over his huge shoulders and just take you away, back to his place. his bed. he couldn’t stop the lewd images from flooding his head, you taking his girth in that pretty mouth or face down while he dicked you down doggy style. you’d make the prettiest noises while he breeds your pretty pussy full, only to flip you onto your back and ass fuck you until you ruin the sheets.

ᥫ᭡. — fuck it. he thought to himself as you walked out of the diner happier then before, and with his number too! the next few weeks, every text the vigilante sent you made you feel more in love then your last marriage could’ve gave you. of course, the conversation didn’t stay innocent for long. soon, jason began to open his texts to pictures of you in the sexiest lingerie, you’re legs spread open to show off your needy cunt. strip tease pictures at your workplace’s restrooms in your uniform, and the audios…you’d send him a particularly lewd audio of you fucking yourself with one of your many sex toys you’ve stashed away, moaning jason’s name and begging him to come over and satiate your neglected desires. safe to say, he drove like a madman to your house the next night your daughter is with a sitter.

“o-oh jason! don’t stop please..!”

just like the way he wanted, you face down and ass high up for him to fuck your cunt stupid while you moaned like a bitch in heat. your cute cheeks were littered with his giant handprints from his harsh spankings. you were fuckin’ perfect.

“mm keep talking baby, takin’ me so well like a good little boy yeah?”

jason knew the comedic irony of calling you, an older man, a little boy. yet the name made you clench around his girth with a sigh of pleasure leaking through your drooling lips. you loved that name, a lot. something that snapped the rope of control in two, unleashing an insatiable nature that only existed in his disgusting fantasies.

jason pulled out, grabbing you by your upper body before practically manhandling you onto your back. before you could even make a noise, the young man pressed his whole weight against yours and sunk his cock into you until he was already balls deep. taking it from behind was a challenge in itself, yet he outdid himself once again as a strained moan tore itself out of your throat.

“shhh..” jason’s shushes tickled your ear, drowning out your shakey whines. “relax baby, can’t fuck a baby in you if your squirmin’ like that.”

oh..oh shit. it was enough to have you clench around his girth as he snapped his hips against yours with an unforgiving pace. a pace that spoke more then whatever came out of his mouth. nothing but promises of another baby, a sibling for your little girl from a man you met in a diner not long ago.

“just like that! like that ja..son! oh god!”

nails raked against the bare skin of his back as your felt that familiar yet distant feeling of your orgasm inching closer and closer, eyes rolled to your brain as jason kept spewing out profanities and coos of faux sympathy.

“shiiit, can’t believe you’re husband left you baby. i would’ve knocked you up every chance i got, treat you like a damn prince..”

he was right, you’re husband never gave you sex this good nor did he spoke such words that went straight into your cunt. every praise, every groan and grunt jason let out pushed you closer and closer..until you finally snapped.

“j-ja-SON! MMM FUCK!”

you gushed all over the vigilante’s cock as he painted your pussy white, breeding you until you couldn’t hold another drop in. the pleasure could’ve damn well nearly killed you as you laid there near unconscious and panting like a dog. jason, however, was only getting started.

“don’t think i’m done with you yet boy..it ain’t over till you’re kid has a sibling.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[streetlamp-amber]

blanket fort for the soul

dick grayson x batmom!reader

word count: 2.2k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: mention of death, family fluff <3 NOTES: dick grayson my little baby i love you so so much you deserve endless happiness and to be protected from all evil

You were just coming back from your lunch break with two of your coworkers when you received a call from Gotham Academy asking you to come pick up Dick as soon as possible. It didn’t take more than a minute after the call ended for you to inform your boss you were cutting your day of work short today, to grab your black trench coat and bag and to sit behind the wheel of your car, on your way to the private school.

Dick Grayson had entered your lives a month and a half ago, after Bruce took you on a date to Haley’s Circus where the young boy’s parents died tragically in front of your eyes. When you were informed that their child didn't have any family to care for him and would end up in the foster system, you didn't even have to try to convince your husband to begin the process to become his foster parents. It had been two weeks since Dick started living with you in the manor and though he was slowly warming up to Bruce, Alfred and you, he was still plagued with nightmares and a deep sadness about the loss of his family.

“What happened?” You asked the receptionist in a hurry once you arrived at the school. You didn't need to introduce yourself or mention to the woman behind the desk that you were Dick’s ward, perks of being married to Bruce Wayne.

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne!” The headmaster, a bald fifty-something white man with round glasses that you should probably try to remember his name, exclaimed as he appeared in the doorway leading to his office. “Please, follow me.”

You walked around the receptionist’s desk and entered the headmaster’s office, where a small boy with dark hair hung his head low. You could sense the sadness emanating from him the second you stepped in the room. You ignored the principal’s invitation to take a seat in the chair in front of his desk to instead crouch down in front of Dick.

“Dick, sweetie, are you okay?” You asked him worriedly. You rested your hands on his knees and lowered your head to try to catch his eyes.

The young boy shook his head ‘no’ before lunging onto you, wrapping his thin arms around your neck as he wept on your shoulder. You were surprised at first, Dick wasn’t comfortable enough with you and Bruce to do more than holding your hands when outside of the house, but you recovered from the shock in less than a second.

“Oh, bubs,” you whispered in a sigh, hugging him close to you and rubbing your right hand up and down his back in a comforting way as sobs shook his small body.

“He’s been like this since the beginning of the students’ lunch break,” the headmaster sympathetically informed you. “The lunch supervisors tried to comfort him but it was to no avail, so we called you.”

You turned your head to face the older man, noticing at the same time the plaque on his desk that read ‘Principal Richardson’. “You did the right thing,” you told him.

“Given the circumstances, it is more than alright if Mr. Grayson wants to go home for the afternoon,” Mr. Richardson offered.

“Do you want to go back to the manor?” You whispered the question in Dick’s ear and he nodded his head ‘yes’.

You rose up from your crouching position, Dick still hanging onto you tight like you were his lifeboat. Thank God he was a little frail since his parents’ death or you wouldn’t be able to carry the eight year old in your arms right now.

“Thank you, Mr. Richardson,” you thanked the principal and he accompanied you out of the school where one of the lunch supervisors waited at the door with Dick’s school bag and lunchbox.

You sat Dick down in his booster car seat – he was still a little too small to sit without one – and put his bags in the seat next to him before closing the door behind you.

“Please send our salutations to Mr. Wayne,” the principal told you and you shyly smiled, nodding your head one time as you sat down in the driver’s seat.

The ride back to the manor was quiet except for Dick’s sniffles as he continued crying. It broke your heart that you couldn’t just take all of his pain away. Both you and Bruce had lost your parents when you were kids, you understood the grief Dick was in just like you knew that only time will heal him.

Once you arrived home, Alfred came down the stairs to grab your bags while you carried Dick, who was back to latching onto you like a koala, in the house. You kicked off your high heels after walking through the front door and went straight to Dick’s room on the second floor.

“Let’s get you out of that uniform, how’s that sound bubs?” You softly asked him once in his bedroom.

“Okay,” Dick murmured, letting go of your neck to rub the tears away from his eyes and his cheeks.

You sat him down on his bed and turned to his drawer to pull out a pair of pyjamas. You then helped him change his clothes and once he was ready, with Zitka his elephant plushie tucked under his arm, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of his room.

“Can we make hot cocoa, please?” He looked up at you with his big blue eyes, the colour eerily the same as Bruce’s, and you simply couldn’t say no to them. Not before, not now and definitely not ever.

“Of course, bubs,” you said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

You both made your way to the kitchen, where Alfred was doing an inventory of the dry food in the cupboards.

“Mrs. Y/N, Master Dick, can I help you with something?” He politely asked you.

“Pretend like we’re not here Alfred,” you told the butler as you helped Dick sit on the kitchen island. “We’re making hot cocoa. Do you want some?”

“You know I would never refuse a cup of your famous hot cocoa, Mrs. Y/N,” Alfred lightheartedly said and the two of you broke down in small chuckles.

“Should we also leave some for Bruce when he gets home?” You asked Dick who was now eye levelled with you from where he was perched on the kitchen island.

The little boy nodded his head ‘yes’ and you set up everything you needed to make the warm beverage, along with four coffee mugs. Dick helped you and in a matter of ten minutes, your drinks were ready.

“Come with me,” you whispered to Dick as you helped him get down from the kitchen island counter. “I have an idea of how to pass time while we wait for the hot cocoa to cool down a little.”

Dick held your hand as you made your way to the living room with the television and the comfy couches (because of course Wayne Manor had more than one living room, including ones that were more formal for the balls and galas you hosted).

“You wanna know what my brother and I used to do when one of us was feeling down?” You looked down at the small boy. He nodded his head for you to continue. “We built the biggest blanket forts that could ever be built. But I think with all the materials we have here, we can build an even bigger one. Are you in?”

You were slowly succeeding at making Dick feel better after the little episode at lunch. Grief comes and goes in waves, and his loss was still very recent. You just wanted to be there for him when the pain hits him.

Dick nodded his head, a little more excitedly this time, and the two of you set off to start building a giant blanket fort using the couch mattresses, throw pillows and blankets stored in the room. You were hanging a blanket that would be the roof while Dick held up the mattresses when Alfred brought your cups of hot cocoa to the living room, the drinks now topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. You thanked the butler and he smiled at you before he went back to the kitchen to complete his inventory, sipping his beverage along the way.

“Are you comfortable in there?” You asked Dick after a moment from the entrance of the blanket fort. He had been in charge of placing the pillows and blankets inside while you made sure the structure was stable.

“Mhm,” he positively hummed in response.

“Alright, I’m gonna give you our cups of hot cocoa then I’m gonna come in with the laptop and we can watch whatever you want,” you told him.

“Okay,” Dick said, his mood lighter.

Once the two of you were settled in the fort with your mugs, you opened the living room laptop (because of course you and Bruce had more than two laptops) and put it down between the two of you.

“So, what are we watching?” You looked at the dark haired boy to your right, waiting for his answer.

He shrugged his shoulders while drinking more of your hot cocoa. Yeah, he was gonna be a ball full of energy until way past his bedtime, but he deserved something fun and comforting. If anything, Bruce could train with him to tire him out once he was back home from work.

“Remember those songs we were listening to on the drive back from Bruce’s office last week?” You tried to jog his memory up to when you blasted Abba’s greatest hits after his first visit to Wayne Tower. You kept stealing glances in the rear view mirror the whole ride, smiling every time you saw Dick bopping his head along to the music.

The little boy nodded his head.

“Well, they made a movie where the characters are on a Greek island and sing the songs the whole time. Wanna watch that?”

Dick shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

You grabbed the laptop and put it in your lap as you went on Netflix and searched for Mamma Mia!. Dick took the opportunity to scoot closer to you, his small body curling around your torso, and you smiled at the fact that he was more trusting and comfortable with you.

When Bruce arrived back home, he came to a stop in front of the living room with the television in it that he was only planning on passing by while he made his way towards the staircase to get to your shared bedroom. The room was disordered and more loud than it usually was at this time of the day, which is what got his attention away from his cellphone. He loosened his tie, feeling more relaxed now that his day of work as ‘Bruce Wayne, CEO’ was over, and approached the blanket fort in the middle of the room.

“What is going on in here?” He crouched down and peaked his head inside the fort.

“So when you’re near me darling, can’t you hear me? S.O.S.,” you sang instead of answering him, index finger pointing in your husband’s direction.

Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. “You roped him into watching Mamma Mia?” He asked with a hint of a smile.

“I didn’t rope him in,” you scoffed over Pierce Brosnan’s horrible singing. “I suggested it and Dick agreed to watch it,” you sweetly grinned at Bruce.

Dick, who was still curled against you, one arm looped with yours while the other held tight onto his elephant plushie, nodded his head to back up your claim.

Bruce then noticed the two now empty mugs, clear traces of hot cocoa on them. “Did you make hot cocoa?” He perked up, now fully smiling.

“You got this little man to thank,” you pointed to Dick. “We made a cup for you, just heat it in the microwave then you can join us.”

“I’ll be right back,” Bruce said and jogged to the kitchen where a cup of your famous hot cocoa was indeed waiting for him. He was back in the living room two minutes later, shoes and blazer off, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, ready to relax with his family.

He handed you his cup of hot cocoa for you to hold while he made his way in the blanket fort and settled on your left since the laptop was still in your lap, hence putting you in the middle. Once next to you, Bruce pecked your lips to greet you and when Dick glanced up at him, the look in his eyes wondering if he would also receive some kind of greeting, your husband affectionately ruffled his dark hair before leaning over you to plant a kiss of the top of the little boy’s head.

Bruce then made himself comfortable, also cuddling onto you, and put his head on your shoulder, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he did so. You handed him his mug back and the three of you continued watching Mamma Mia!, much to your happiness.

Enveloped in the warmth of your two boys squishing you from both sides, you couldn’t fight off the smile that pulled on your lips. Laying under your blanket fort with your little family, it was moments like this one that made everything else worth it.

[umadosedepascal]

DIRTY HOLIDAY | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | One Shot

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: You go with friends spend the holidays in Mexico, such a coincidence to be at the same resort as Pedro. What a world, so small huh?

wc: 3.7k

rating/warnings: [little surprising plot] [Pedro being Pedro][unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f] [alcohol comsuption] [Curse words]

a/n: C’MON GUYS. Do I need to explain myself after yesterday pictures and videos? NO. FUCKING HELL NO. wtf Pedro.. WHY is he so fucking hot??? WTF. 😭

You are going with your friends to Mexico to spend the holidays this year. It was a tough decision to make because you always spend the holidays with family, but this time you decided to try something new away from home since your whole family always judges you. Your dad always comes to you saying, “You’ve been drinking a lot, my baby; slow down…”

All you want to say is that you are a grown woman and do whatever you want, but every year you keep behaving as an angel to them.

You and your girlfriends get on the airplane on the 24th, heading to Mexico for 2 weeks.

All of you are very excited and feeling some freedom in the air.

“Hell yeah, the first thing we get there will be a round of tequila shots… you gotta deal with me…” and your friends laugh with your sassy attitude.

A promise is a promise. You check in, change to your bikinis, and go to the bar by the pool.

“Hey buddy, 3 shots of tequila, por favor?”

The barman looks at you with half-closed eyes. “ID first, my ladies; you look under 18…”

Although you are all over 27, actually, you three hand your IDs on the counter and look around the pool waiting for your drinks.

One of your friends comes to you and says, “Hey, isn’t that guy from….”

Your jaw drops, your legs start trembling and shaking, trying to hold on to something and not to fall… “YES?”

Pedro is lying down on a sun chair in red shorts, drips of water are running down to his bare chest, and he is really deep into a book.

“I need my shot RIGHT NOW!” You say loudly to your friends, trying to compose yourself at the same time.

They know you have a crush on him and talk nonstop about his work, so this is going to be a wild trip if you get to meet him even for a second.

“Second round is on me; let’s do it,” one of your friends says.

All you can think about is him. You don’t stop to look in his direction and try to plan how to approach without being a silly, stupid, drunk idiot.

The most down-to-earth friend of yours tries to calm you down, saying that you will have your chance, etc., but you are so far away in your thoughts that you ask for a large margarita and tell them you're going to take a sun chair as close as possible to him and see what happens.

“You crazy! But yeah, good luck; I hope he’s not a dick with you…” one of them tells you, hopeless, not trying to hurt your feelings.

“Dick? Yeah, I want some dick… You laugh, already buzzed, walking towards the chair right next to his.

As long as you get near him, by himself, still deep into the book.

You already worked up the courage and asked, “Hi, is this chair taken?”

He gives a side eye, looking at you from head to toe. “No darling, all yours…”

As you sit on the chair, you can hear your friends from the bar cheering like party animals.

You look at him saying, “Jeez, these people know how to party, huh?” Hoping he didn’t see you before taking shots with them a few moments ago.

“Yeah, yeah… young people... having their time…” he says with a smooth voice.

You feel relief because he didn’t see you before with them and anxious at the same time because YES, you could start a chit chat with him.

“Erm, yeah…” You don’t know how to keep this going and pick anything that you find inside your ecobag just to create other possible ways to talk.

Lay down on the chair, put on your Ray-Bans, and open the FUCKING MAP of the resort.

Jesus, what am I doing? Should I say I know him? Should I just ask what he is reading or maybe wait for another brief comment coming from him?

You can see by the side of your eye that from time to time he looks at you, but very, very fast, you just hold that giant map, feeling like you're on mushrooms with empty thoughts on your mind.

You’ve got your friends getting drunk and cheering for you from the bar and the hottest guy in the world by your side.

Think wisely…

You grab your drink from the side table and sip it.

“Is that good?” He asks you.

Pretending like you got scared, almost dropping the fancy glass on the floor… “Did you just.. talk to me? Um, well, I had better ones. But this one isn’t bad at all…” you describe your drink with a shy smile.

What the fuck did I say???

He chuckles, closing his book and now sitting down on the chair.

“Hm... 3-star review? I’m getting one myself; I like cheap stuff.”

You simply just give a “ha” to him as he stands up and walks towards the bar.

Your friends get wild; at this point, they might think he is going to talk to them for sure.

You immediately look at them trying to mimic something like, “Nooooo, noooooo, don’t say shit, you motherfuckers!!!”

You are in a panic because you know them and what they are capable of, especially under alcohol influence.

But they understand wrong; they know you always need a hand in terms of trying to flirt with someone else.

You see one of them approach him, saying something and looking at you at the same time.

You are screwed up. You know.

The only thing you can do now is wait for your end, getting big gulps of your drink and trying to calm down.

He comes back with a wild smile on his face saying, “I just met your friends over there; they told me things... you don’t need to hide anything…”

You sit down quickly. “What? Hahaha, they… They are buzzed; don’t believe in what they say…”

He keeps looking at you with half-closed eyes. “Hmm,” he sits on his chair sipping his drink and says, “Yeah, it’s not that bad at all…”

You simply don’t talk for some moments; your anxiety is building up like a pressure cooker.

Until then… “Hey Pedro… I’m sorry… I just wanted to say hi, but I’m already drunk, and I don’t know how to start a proper conversation. They probably told you I’m a sucker for you… and the ‘dick’ thing as well. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a stalker; I don’t want to bother you. I just think you're awesome, and it was a stupid idea to come over right here, right now.” You run over words.

“Wow, wow, wow, they just told me to be nice to you, haha, because you care... about me.” Pointing to himself.

After you say all that with a flushed cheek, you let out a loud laugh looking at your friends that are already out of sight. You get more desperate saying sorry a million times, trying to compose yourself.

“What more did they say?”

“That you are awesome and know everything about my stuff, but with moderation… I don’t know what they meant, but yeah, I just didn’t catch your name…"

You tell him your name with eyes open and disbelief that your friends, for the first time, did a good job, but not you… not you.

“What’s the dick thing you told me?” He asks you with a smirk.

“Aaah, nothing… being a dick… that’s it.” You say, looking to the ground with shame.

He grabs you by the chin and says, “I would never be a dick to a beautiful girl like you…”

You feel a shiver down to your spine when he touches you like that.

Oh shit…I’m already wet without even getting into the pool.

“I, I think I need to… brb…” You leave everything behind and go straight to the toilet, locking the door and sitting there.

Breathe in, breathe out.Ok, I will just grab my stuff and disappear…What did I do?

As soon as you open the door, Pedro is there waiting…

“I usually don’t do things like that; it can be the vibe, my drinks, or even Xmas. I don’t know…” He says, grabbing your hips, pushing you back to the toilet, and closing the door behind him.

“Is that what you wanted? hm" He rubs his beard on your face, searching for your mouth.

He guides your hands to his growing bulge while running his right hand from behind you, rubbing one finger over your pussy.

You moan when he rubs his finger roughly against you…

“So wet already for me…” he says in between sloppy kisses.

“Since the moment I spotted you here, yeah…” you whisper, with both hands stroking his cock over the shorts…

Then Pedro takes you slowly to the sink and sits you there, spreading your legs…“Let me see what you got, beautiful… spread more…” putting your bikini bottom aside and lowering to the same level.

You grab his wet hair with one hand while he tongue darts you deep, sucking your lips and moaning low with pleasure…

You don’t even blink, just looking down at him savoring you, such a tease.

No fucking way this is happening…

You can feel his nose rubbing against your clit; you are getting close to the edge, but suddenly people knock at the door…

“Oh dammit…” You murmur disappointedly.

Pedro stops his worship on you and tells you with a low voice, “My room isn't far... want to see what naughty presents Santa has for you?" His fingers trace small patterns on your thighs, making you shiver.

“But we need to be discreet… What’s your room number? I meet you there…”

Pedro chuckled softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Discreet, huh? I like the way you think." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispered, "Room 217, second floor."

Luckily nobody is at the door anymore, so you sneak out the toilet.

You try to find your girls just to quickly freak out and disappear again, but there's no sign of them.

You come back to the pool area, and Pedro isn’t there anymore; you bite your lip, get a deep breath, take your stuff, and go towards the elevator.

Room 217

You knock twice.

The door slowly creaks open, revealing Pedro standing there, his shirt half unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled chest. He's holding a bottle of tequila and two glasses. His eyes roamed over your body hungrily.

Stepping aside to let you in, he whispers suggestively, "Merry Christmas to me, indeed." He gently shut the door behind you, his free hand trailing down your arm. "Hope you like tequila..."

“Hm, yeah, better be careful… right?

Pedro's eyebrows shot up, a devilish grin spreading across his face at the memory. "Ah, but that was just a sample of what I can do sober. Imagine what I'm capable of now, all loosened up." Doing a little dance…

Then he pours two generous glasses of tequila, sliding one towards you before picking up his own. "I've got a list of naughty things I want to do with you..."

Oh, he wants to play a game…I’m just gonna faint 😮‍💨

“Oh… tell me more…” You push him to the sofa, sitting on his lap.

A deep, sexy chuckle escapes his lips as he lets you push him onto the sofa, his hands immediately finding your curves. "Mmm, you're being a naughty girl..." He takes a sip of his tequila, then offers you the glass. "You first."

“My list? With you... it is an extensive list. Better you tell me yours first…”

Pedro leans back into the sofa, a confident smirk playing on his lips as his hands continue their exploration of your body. "Well, since you asked..." He takes another sip of tequila, his eyes never leaving yours.

The motherfucker is a tease; I knew it… I knew it!!!

His hands wander up and down your body possessively as he continues. "I want to see those perfect lips wrapped around my... gifts." He punctuates his words with a gentle bite to your neck.

"Then I want you bent over this fireplace mantel while I take you from behind, watching your reflection in that mirror across the room.” His fingers trailed along your waistband suggestively.

“Wow…You really don’t waste time on your list, huh?” You start unbuttoning his shirt all the way down.

He chuckles, his eyes locking onto yours as he sees you unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest and abs one button at a time. He helps you finish the job, tossing his shirt aside. "Guess not..." He growls, pulling you closer.

Pedro's lips curled into a wicked smile as you slowly head down towards his chest, his hand lightly gripping the back of your neck.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." you murmur approvingly, pressing your lips against his nipple.

He let out a low groan as you began to suck, his other hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "Fuck, just like that..."

You let out a soft laugh. “So… you like some worship on your nipples, huh?”

A deep, sultry chuckle escaped his lips, his voice husky with desire. "You're learning my secrets, aren't you?" His hand urges your head towards his other nipple. "Not just my nipples... but every part of me deserves some worship."

“That’s how I make my way down…” you whisper.

His breath hitches as you whisper your intentions, his body tingling with excitement. "Well then, I can hardly wait to feel those heavenly lips trailing lower..." He guides your face down his torso, his abs clenching instinctively under your touch.

As you kiss and nuzzle your way down his abdomen, Pedro's hands rest lightly on your head, his fingers gently guiding you. "Lower... lower... yes, just like that..." He hisses as your lips brush against the waistband of his red swim trunks.

You slowly peel back his zipper, the sound echoing in the room. Pedro's breathing grows heavier as you reach inside and wrap your hand around his thick, hard length. He lets out a low groan as you pull it free, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Fuck... oh god..."

Pedro's cock twitches eagerly as you firm your grip, the skin velvety soft, a prominent vein runs along the underside. The head is broad and round, flushed a deep red, with a tiny slit oozing with pre-cum. His hips giving an involuntary thrust forward, seeking more of your touch. "Don't tease me, beautiful..." He breathes out, voice strained with lust. "Put those gorgeous lips to work."

As you bob your head up and down, Pedro's hands tighten on your shoulders, his fingers digging into your skin. He starts to thrust gently…”Fuck... You look so beautiful with your mouth full of me..." He pants, his abs flexing with each thrust. His hands move to cup your jaw, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he guides your movements. The wet sounds of your sucking fill the room, mixed with his guttural groans.

I take you out of my mouth for a few seconds. “You taste so good, but I don’t want you to reach the edge, hottie…”

His breath catches at your words. "Mmm, teasing me now? You know exactly what you're doing..." His tone is a mix of both frustration and deep satisfaction. "Yeah, don't make me come just yet…”

“Yes, let’s work on your list…” You say, sitting back on his lap, cleaning the corner of your mouth with his precum.

Pedro's eyes darken with desire as he watches you clean your mouth with his precum. "Fuck, you're so naughty... I love it." He reaches out and runs his thumb over your lips, spreading it around before leaning in to claim your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.

“So…What did you say about the fireplace? Second of the list…”

Pedro smirks mischievously. "Ah, the fireplace... I was thinking we could move our little session over there." He stands up, lifting you with him effortlessly. "I want to bend you over the mantel and fuck you from behind, watching your reflection in that mirror across the room.”

Pedro carries you to the fireplace, setting you down gently on your feet. He spins you around and bends you over the ornate wooden mantel, the cool marble pressing against your skin. "Keep those elbows locked," he commands, a firm hand on the small of your back.

Not happy with that, you just suggest, “Why don’t you just take me to the bed?”

"Because the bed is too ordinary," Pedro murmurs, running his hands down your thighs possessively, "I want to do this here, where I can watch myself take you in the mirror." He steps back to admire the view, his eyes roaming over your arched back and rounded bottom.

With a mischievous tone, you ask him… ”and you like to watch yourself?”

"Right now I’d love watching myself fucking you," Pedro confesses, his voice low and husky with desire. "Seeing my cock disappear into your pussy, feeling your body shake as I pound into you... it's fucking incredible." He reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the loose strands.

"And the mirror," he continues, his other hand reaching out to the mantel to steady himself as he lines himself up with your entrance. "Watching myself push into you, feeling your tight little hole squeeze around my dick as I fuck you hard against the mirror... fuck, it's going to be perfect."

With a deep grunt, Pedro thrusts forward, sheathing his hard length inside you in one smooth motion. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried inside you before he starts to move, his hips slamming against your ass as he fucks you hard against the mirror.

"Look at us in the mirror..." He reaches around to cup your breasts while continuing his steady pace. "Watch how beautifully you take my cock. Those whimpers you're making... fuck, you're perfect." His pace quickens, his breath becoming ragged against your ear.

His fingers pinch and tug at your nipples as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. The mirror fogs up from your panting breaths and his sweat, obscuring parts of the reflection but not enough to hide the lewd scene unfolding before it.

In between moans, you beg him to take you to the bed; you can’t stand your legs anymore with so much pressure.

Pedro growls, pulling out of you abruptly and spinning you around to face him. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, tossing you onto it before climbing on top of you. "I need to be inside you again, now."

He settles between your thighs, his hard cock pressing urgently against your slick folds. "Wrap your legs around me," he demands, easing the tip of his shaft teasingly along your slit. As you comply, he grips your wrists, pinning them above your head with one strong hand.

Pedro leans down, capturing your lips in a fierce, dominant kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth as his other hand guides his cock to your entrance. In one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you again, swallowing your gasp with his mouth.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes blazing with lust as he begins to move, thrusting into you with deep, measured strokes that make the bed creak beneath you. "Fuck, your pussy feels amazing," he grits out, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you.

Pedro quickens his pace, his grip on your wrists tightening as he chases his release. The room fills with the sound of his hips slapping against yours and your breathy moans. "I'm going to fill you up so full," he pants, nipping at your jaw. One of his hands slides between your bodies, finding your clit and circling it with his thumb. "I want to feel you come on my cock…”

"Fuck, you're getting tighter... Is this what you need, baby?" His thumb presses harder against your clit as he fucks you with deep, forceful strokes, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. "Come for me..."

Pedro feels your walls clench around him, and he growls, "That's it, cum on my cock." He slams into you one last time, burying himself as deep as he can go. His thumb circles your clit frantically as his release builds. "Fuck, I'm close..."

With a loud grunt, Pedro explodes inside you, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his hot seed. His thumb presses hard against your clit, sending you over the edge as you scream in pleasure, your pussy milking his cock for everything he's got.

He stays buried inside you, his thumb slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves as he nuzzles his face against yours, breathing heavily. "Damn it, I will tell your friends you are amazing… they were right..." He murmurs, his voice muffled against your neck.

After a moment, Pedro slowly pulls out of you, his softening cock slipping free from your still-quivering pussy. He collapses beside you on the bed, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. "Can we keep up with this list?" You say.

He kisses the top of your head, his heart still racing from their intense encounter. "I think we should keep going, yeah. There are a lot more things on that list I want to try with you." He pulls out his phone and starts typing, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey, I need to check on the girls...” you say, worried about them being away for a couple of hours already.

Pedro looks up from his phone, his expression softening. "Of course, go check on your friends. I'll be here when you get back. But don't be too long, okay?" He says giving you a little wink.

As soon as you go back to your room, you find your friends passed out on the bed.

Well, I guess you will leave a note at the door saying thanks for the little help, and you guys will catch up on the next day because you won’t sleep in the same room for a while… The list is endless.

😈

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[captain-huggy-bear]

Luke would be the type to keep his private life very private so him having a gf only really his family and friends in michigan know so the devils have no clue and i could see the boys always trying to get luke to hookup with people for like a whole season till next season when they finally learn luke has had a gf the whole time

Oh boy, 100%. He always just politely tells them he's not interested in dating anyone or having a casual hookup or pretends he doesn't notice what they're doing. Jack 100% does not help, he finds it hilarious when any of the guys are trying to get Luke to talk to some random girl in a bar, but he will 100% confirm to you that Luke is the most loyal boyfriend you could ask for. I also see Luke feeling guilty about it even though he hasn't done anything, so every time he gets back to the apartment he's telling you if you live together or phoning you if you don't and basically confessing his 'sins', like 'i'm so sorry, baby, Marky tried to get me to go out with this blonde and she wouldn't stop touching my arm and I told her I wasn't interested and I only love you.' Definitely reaches a point where he breaks and just goes 'STOP! I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND' and all the guys are just like 'why the hell didn't you tell us this sooner?' Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Hey, C'mon, Rusty! What about the blonde at the end of the bar?" Curtis points to a young woman around Luke's age, platinum blonde hair, little black dress, who's eyeing Luke like he might be candy. It doesn't flatter him, if anything it sends a sick feeling to his gut, a roiling discomfort because only you're allowed to look at him like that. You can eye fuck him, no one else. He feels objectified.

"Curtis, I've told you I'm not interested. Not my type." Not his type because his girlfriend is his only type and there's only one of you. It doesn't matter if 100 attractive women all tried to get his number right now, he wouldn't care, wouldn't give it out because you're the one he wants. Literally no one compares to you, he's smitten, whipped, absolutely in love.

"C'mon, seriously! You didn't go out with anyone all last season! Not even a hook up, you're celibate, man! You're young, you should be having fun!" Curtis knocks his shoulder with a grin and Luke just grips his beer tighter, feeling a familiar frustration at the situation. He spent all of last season dealing with the boys trying to goad him into hook ups and flings, throwing women at him like it was their duty to get him laid. He hated every minute of it.

"Yeah, Lukey, you were practically celibate, a monk," Jack chimes in, arm thrown over Luke's shoulder with a grin, the irony of his words not lost on either of them because Luke was definitely not celibate last year. He just wasn't hooking up with random strangers, because he'd started dating you, because you were the only person he wanted to see, to kiss, to sleep with and that still stood firm and true.

"Just go talk to her, maybe you'll get lucky and go home with her tonight! C'mon, what's wrong?" It's Dougie that chimes in this time and Luke wants to die. He wants to die. Or alternative go to your apartment and curl up with you in bed because this is the worst.

"Yeah, are you scared, Lukey?" If Jack wasn't his brother he'd have killed him already, killed him for encouraging all of this bullshit for a year, knowing full well that Luke wasn't single. But, he can't because his mom would be upset if Jack died...he rolls his eyes at him instead, shrugging his arm off of his shoulders.

"You're not secretly a virgin or anything, right, Rusty?"

"Fuck off, Lazar." He snaps, not because it would matter if he was, but because it's stupid that that's the only reason people can comprehend he wouldn't want to sleep around. Maybe it's just not his thing to have hook ups? Maybe he's focusing on his career? Maybe he's already in love and anything else would be cheap and insignificant in comparison?

"Oh, that's hit a nerve, some truth in that?" The guys are all grinning at him like they think they've got it all worked out and it just...it makes him snap, slamming the bottle of beer he'd been cradling to the bar top.

"No, y'know why I don't want to go talk to some random fucking blonde in the bar or hook up with whatever girl you throw my way? Because I've got a fucking girlfriend, okay? I'm not virgin! I'm not celibate! I just don't want to fuck a girl that isn't my girlfriend!" Luke's breathing heavy by the end of it, red it the face because it is so fucking annoying to constantly be bugged about it and he just wants everyone to get off his back. He's happily with you, he doesn't need random hook ups and he certainly doesn't need his team mates trying to get him laid like they have some moral duty to do so.

The way they look at him makes him feel stupid because suddenly they're all calling out variations of, "Dude! Why the fuck didn't you tell us this sooner?!" and he realises that maybe he could have solved this all months earlier by just saying he was seeing someone...like a normal person, maybe? But he'd wanted to keep things private...

He flounders for an explanation, mouth opening and closing, running a hand through his mess curls like that might help his brain to function.

"I just...it was new and...we were keeping it private."

It's Marky that turns to look at Jack, "Did you not know about this?"

"Oh, I knew." Jack is all smug enjoyment, leaning back against the bar and winking at the blonde Curtis had been trying to set Luke up with. Satisfaction rolled off him in cocky waves.

"Why they hell did you let us shove girls at your brother then?" Curtis asks, shocked, nay baffled because Jack had just spent an entire season practically encouraging the behaviour all while knowing full well Luke was dating you.

"It was funny," He shrugs with a grin and mentally Luke is considering whether the price he'd pay is worth putting itching powder in Jack's underwear drawer or maybe if cutting his hair in his sleep would be a better punishment since he can't rip another set of braces off him like Quinn did.

"That's messed up, Jack!" "Yeah, man!"

Luke sighs as the guys all ripped into Jack, downing the last of his beer and grabbing his phone off the bar top.

"Fuck this, I'm going to see Y/N."

"Ohh, you're girlfriend!?" And just like that Luke knows...he knows he's not out of the woods, it's just that the woods have changed from teasing and taunting him about hook ups, to doing so about his girlfriend.

Fuck, he hates being a younger brother.