#How you like me now daddy I CANNOT STOP LAUGHING

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles and Jeffrey Dean Morgan talking about their daughters | New Jersey Convention (April 16, 2023) [x] 

[starryylies]

Simon who comes home from deployment only to see you reading smut and then continues to eat you out like a man starved.

cunnulingus, established relationship, reader calls Simon daddy, dom sub dynamic, Simon is a man starved, implied age gap, reader is younger. Self insert 🤩

Yes two smut fics In a row

(no judgey)

You’re in your room trying to get off, you tried humping your pillow rubbing yourself on it

trying’ to imagine you’re practicing on Simon but nothing was working.

you were too horny and couldn’t stand it anymore . ;((

You had been left alone for so long you needed a relief you were so pent up you could’ve cum just by the stimulation of your pretty pussy on si’s cock, but sisi wasn’t there :(

He had been out for deployment for over a month now and you missed him dearly

Finally giving in after many failed attempts to get off you finally took your phone and opened tumblr to scroll through some smut fics filled with the filthiest words and phrases (me)

Scrolling you found a hot story of a soldier and his wife making love (rawdogging) after he came back home from his own deployment,

reading it reminded you of Simon so you climbed back on your bed and quickly got rid of your pants and started touching your puffy clit

The nub looked like it was bulging out, it was soooo desperate to be touched. :((

you rubbed circles around your clit picturing it was you in the story alongside Simon.

You were finally getting close, the fic was filled with dirty thoughts and carnal feelings, all that you were having.

You were so close your clit was aching to cum but as you were about to cum the door opened revealing the big man with broad shoulders, your boyfriend Simon Riley.

He looked at you lustfully, you could see his boner tenting up in his pants.

“Couldn’t wait for me could ya lovie?” He gruffed out smiling at how beautiful you look with your legs spread apart and face flushed out.

“S-si I’m sorry but I was so horny I need ya, I missed ya so much” you whine out needily

“Im sure you did sugar, so did I. I missed you so fuckin’ much love” he says crawling up to the bed unbuckling his pants.

As he reaches close to you he notices your phone is open, he sees text in it. For a minute he gets scared thinking it’s from someone else but as he gets a closer look he realises it’s a story, a very lewd one at that.

He laughs out gruffly, “my good little girl is reading dirty books now huh” he smirks.

seeing you get all shy drives him crazy

“ yea but only cuz it reminded me of you sisi”

“I know princess” you wouldn’t do anything other than that he coos while putting his hand near your pussy teasing it.

“S-si touch me please” you mewl.

“Only when you will tell me what you were reading princess”

“But s-si I need youu” you whine

You try grabbing his hand to touch your pussy but he quickly pulls away

“Bad girl’’ he says softly.

Seeing you pout at that statement only makes him wanna tease you more.

You’ll only get to cum when you read it out loud to me,

Each. And. Every. Word.

Without hesitation You reply saying yes because you cannot hold on any longer you need this.

Simon then spreads your legs apart to get a better view and it’s almost as if his mouth drools when he sees your pretty pussy all wet and moist.

“Read to me baby” he commands

“M’kay” you whine out

- After <ml> (ml in the fic y/n is reading) returned from his recruitment in February he was greeted by <fl> (fl in the fix y/n is reading) wearing a pink bra -

you stutter out, feeling Simon’s tongue on your folds makes your brain stop for a moment.

“Continue princess” he says

“Y-yes Simon” you reply and start reading the next few lines of the fic.

as you reach to the part where the <ml> starts fucking the <fl>,

simon swipes your clit and starts rubbing your nub.

Simon eats your pussy out like a man possessed

and now you can’t form proper words cuz it feels sooo good.

You’re so close you’re so close you’re so close.

Suddenly Simon stops.

“Why’d ya stop reading princess” he looks up at you with his beautiful hazel eyes shining.

“Si please just lemme cum pleaseplease I need you siiii” you whine desperately

“No princess read the story or you won’t cum he says sternly’’

You cry out, you’re soooo overstimulated you can’t take it anymore.

You start bucking your hips onto Simon’s face like a bitch in heat. You just wanna cum :(((

Simon slaps your clit softly earning a soft moan from you

“Read.” He commands

You cannot do anything but comply so you start reading again.

The story is almost about to finish and you can feel yourself getting closer.

Simon is eating you like you’re his last meal ever, slurping your juices sucking your swollen clit

and giving its a tiny kiss or too from time to time as well.

“S-si it’s over now please lemme cum please I’ll be a good girl daddy please lemme cum please”

“‘kay princess if ya say it so nicely” he smirks out

He’s eating you out like a hungry animal rutting his own hips into the bed to get some friction, his hard cock feels like it’s gonna burst.

He’s so horny he needs a release and hearing your sugar like moans make him harder and more and more desperate to cum.

He’s as horny as you are but he won’t show it cuz he has to help his pretty little girl cum first :)

“S-si I’m close I’m so close” you moan out,

you’re now bucking your hips up and down and Simon’s face is covered with your slick.

he presses on your nub to give it some pressure

Your orgasm hits you like a huge wave, your eyes roll back your toes curl and your mouth opens. Your mind is blank it’s only filled with bliss.

“Attagirl” Simon looks at you proudly.

As you come down from your high Simon come towards you and gives you a kiss,

You can taste your juices on his tongue but you don’t care you kiss him back hungrily, you both devour each other completely before Simon starts talking

“You were such a good girl f’me” he praises.

You melt in his arms as he whispers out sweet words into your ears.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up okay princess?”

“Yes si”

As you walk into the shower si is quick to pin you to the wall rubbing his thick erect cock on your swollen overstimulated pussy.

“It’s my turn now love let me fill you up, I’ll ma’e ya feel so good princess”

And so he does :33

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Okay okay. Luke x a daughter of Dionysus. I’m just obsessed with the idea of Luke, the king of godly daddy issues, and a girl who is close to her godly parent and physically cannot understand where he’s coming from because she loves her dad! He’s always been there because he’s in charge of camp. Just the dichotomy of these complete opposites being in love.

ℐ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A/n- I love this! Sorry it took me a few days to finish this ):

warnings- some angst, nothing else really.

“Do I look okay?” He asked, adjusting his suit that one of his siblings lended him. He looked in the mirror, and you smiled at him, looking up and coming up behind him, wrapping an arm around him. He was beyond nervous.

“You look perfect. Don’t worry about it too much. He’ll be too drunk by the end of the night anyways.” You mumbled, he laughed quietly, turning around and looking at you up and down in your dress.

“You look gorgeous.” He said to you, giving you a kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Your dad had set up a nice dinner at a nice restaurant outside of the camp. He had just learnt of you both dating, and he was mad at first, but it stopped after a while.

He had booked this dinner mostly for himself, of course. But you and Luke were invited, and Dionysus secretly hoped to get to know more about the boy.

“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Your dad rapped on your cabin door, tone laced with annoyance. You giggled and rolled your eyes.

“You ready?” You asked him, holding your bag. He nodded, linking his arm with yours. He straightened his back as you opened the door.

“Hi, daddy.” You said.

“Finally. What took you guys so long?” He was dressed in a tropical styled shirt, some shorts, his hair was disheveled. His usual. You both suddenly felt over dressed.

“I was getting ready. You know-“

“Yes, yes I know.” He waved it off, and he looked at Luke.

“Luke.” He nodded to him.

“Sir.”

“Don’t call me that. Gods that makes me feel old.” He rolled his eyes, and Luke just nodded. You were led to a car, a car that you didn’t even know your dad had.

You both sat in the back, it was awkwardly silent.

“How long have you guys been dating, again?” He asked suddenly. You sighed.

“Almost a year.” You said, slightly upset he didn’t remember.

He just nodded, and it was silent the rest of the drive. Once the car had stopped, Luke was out of the car and opening up your door for you. Your dad mentally noted it.

Luke grabbed your hand, holding it as you smiled at him. He gave you a small smile back.

The server led you to the tables, a table ready. Luke sat next to you, and so did your dad. You were stuck in the middle of them.

Your dad, obviously ordered the best wine his money could buy for himself. You got your favorite drink, and Luke, he just ordered a Dr. pepper.

Your dad took a sip as soon as it came, processing how it tasted.

“Garbage.” He mumbled to himself, settling into the chair he sat in.

You and Luke glanced at each other. “What?” Dionysus asked, noticing your glances.

“Nothing, dad.” You took a sip of your own drink, he just ignored it for now.

“So, uh, what do you like about my daughter?” He asked, his cup in hand, leaning back in his chair. He was testing Luke.

Okay, hitting him with the hard questions first.

“Everything.” He said simply, and it was the truth.

He narrowed his eyes, you swallowed, “daddy, don’t.” You sighed.

“What? I’m just looking out for you.”

You loved your dad, of course you did. But he was very, very overprotective. He’s kicked guys out of camp because they tried to hit on you when you didn’t like it, he’s threatened others.

This was going to be a longggg dinner.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

He took off his shoes, entering the cabin again. Quickly, he shoved off his suit and tie, leaving him shirtless.

“I’m gonna change, okay?” You told him quietly, he nodded and sat at the foot of your bed. When you entered the bathroom, he sighed heavily, burying his face into his hands.

He felt terrible, he was jealous the whole night. He was jealous of you. You and your dads perfect relationship, he wanted that.

But you were an only child, and he was a Hermes kid. The child of the God with the most kids.

You were so close with him, it hurt Luke to see. But he still enjoyed the night, how could he not? He loved seeing you in the dress, and he loved seeing you happy. That was all he wanted in the end. If you were happy, he was happier.

You silently came out the bathroom, he didn’t notice you coming out until you sat next to him and laid your head on his shoulder. He looked up, clearing his throat.

“Sorry.” He said, his voice raspy.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I know.” You laid down, and he looked at you, you motioned for him to lay down next to you.

You wrapped your arms around him, giving him a kiss. You stared into each others eyes.

“Its not your fault my dad sucks. I shouldn’t be upset over it.” He said quietly.

“But it’s okay to be. I love you, Luke. You never have to hide your feelings from me. You’re perfect, and if your dad can’t see that, then I think he’s a blind man.” You had a hand in his curls. A small smile was on his face as you spoke.

“I love you.” He said, tears threatening to fall at your speech. He gave you a kiss, his soft lips against yours.

“I know.”

[katebishopsbow]

SOMEDAY IT WILL ALL BE OKAY • MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader (platonic)

summary: watching kevin and his daughter, laura, playing together at the paddock makes you emotional as you remember the love that you never get to receive growing up. max is here to remind you that your past doesn't define you, and one day you will be okay.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of absent parent

word count: 3.1k

author's notes: based on the real-life event of me tearing up when i saw that video of kmag's daughter playing with his visor. healing my own daddy issues one fic at a time :)

(image is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Kevin Magnussen is a great dad.

People can say whatever they want about his driving – aggressive and maybe a little dangerous sometimes – but there is no denying that he is an amazing father who puts his daughters above all else. The Dane is always joking about how his two little troublemakers have been giving him a constant headache, but the rest of the grid knows that he would do just about anything for his girls.

Occasionally, Louise likes bringing Laura and Agnes to the track to see their dad at work. Being a Formula 1 driver with all the hectic schedules and non-stop traveling means that family time together can often be difficult to come by, so Kevin cherishes all the time he gets to be as present in their lives as possible. 

The drivers all love it when the Magnussens visit the track, not only because Laura and Agnes are the sweetest little angels ever, but also because they get to witness the rare sight of Kevin “tough guy” Magnussen shedding his hard exterior and tease him about the heartwarmingly softer side he displays to his family. 

And while you would never admit this out loud, somewhere residing deep within you is envious – envious of this kind of love that you never got to receive. Sometimes when you look at Kevin interacting with his daughters – just sometimes – you find yourself wondering what it would be like to have a father who is present, who genuinely cares, who loves you with everything they have so much that you never have to doubt your worthiness.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You were standing with a few other drivers at the track, idly chatting about the upcoming race and your holiday plans now that the winter break is right around the corner when Kevin suddenly saunters nearby, holding the hand of the most adorable little girl. “Laura, come say hi!” he kneels down and says to her, sporting the biggest and most loving smile on his face as his daughter gives a shy little wave to the crowd of drivers before her.

“Hey there, Laura,” you wave at her, settling on a simple greeting since you have never been particularly great with children. “Hello, little one!” Lando greets with a wide grin as he offers Laura a fist bump, and the girl explodes into giggles when he pretends to yelp in pain at how hard Laura fist-bumped him. Classic Lando – always so good with kids.

“She’s got quite the punch, doesn’t she?” Kevin jokes while he chuckles at the sight, admiring the joyous smile on Laura’s face with the tenderest gaze he only reserves for his daughter. Becoming a father is the best thing that has happened to him, and he thanks the stars every day for being blessed with such precious gifts of life. Laura and Agnes – his biggest pride and joy.

“Here to be dad’s little assistant, Laura?” Max asks, his nose scrunching up in an adoring smile like the way it always does when he speaks to Penelope. The little girl nods bashfully before running to hide behind her dad, holding onto his hands as if he is her safe place, her rock.

Kevin laughs at his daughter’s endearing shyness, picks her up and envelops her in his embrace before placing a kiss on her rosy, chubby cheeks. “You’re the best assistant in the entire world,” he whispers softly, adoration swimming in his eyes while Laura lets out a giggle at her father’s words. The drivers around them cannot help but smile along with them – how can they not at such a heartwarming sight? 

Yet watching Kevin’s doting smiles and the way he looks at his daughter as if she is his entire universe, the initial warm fuzziness within you silently morphs into a dull ache that squeezes at your heart – an odd yet familiar feeling you know all too well. Despite your best efforts to push them away, your mind becomes clouded with hazy memories of the past – the painful past that has broken you and haunted you for years.

In the fogged-up memories of your childhood days, you were never at the receiving end of such an affectionate gaze. The only way your father has ever looked at you was indifference, annoyance, and a sense of uncaringness that tore your little heart up into pieces and left you wondering what you did wrong to be so undeserving of the fatherly love you yearned for. 

He never picked you up and hugged you as if you were a fragile treasure that he cherished. He never held your hand in a way that made you feel safe and certain that nothing could ever harm you because he would be your shield, protecting you from the world and its merciless cruelty. He never once made you feel loved and cared for, ignoring your attempts to gain his validation and approval because he loved himself and his ego more than he would ever love you. 

When you received good grades at school and showed him your report card with the rows of A’s, hoping that it would help you get his approval, he didn’t praise you. In fact, he didn’t bother saying anything. He simply gave you a half-hearted nod before shifting his attention back to the damned television screen in front of him, some uninteresting TV show that never should have mattered more than his daughter. So you stuffed the tear-stained report card back into your school bag, uncaring that it got crushed and crumpled, because in the end your hard work and effort didn’t matter. It never did.

When you had a rough day at school and came home with tears running down your cheeks, your father looked at you for a second, rolled his eyes and walked away. So that night you cried yourself to sleep as you soaked through your pillows with your wallowing tears, wishing that your dad could wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay. You knew that he could hear your sobs across the hallway, but chose to ignore you anyway. You wondered if he hated you that much, or was it simply because he never even cared to begin with?

And when he finally gathered all his belongings and disappeared from your life once and for all, you surprised yourself when you didn’t cry at the sight of the now-empty house. You had just felt empty and lonely – so painstakingly lonely. The kind of loneliness that seeped into your bones and slithered along your veins and consumed your soul. 

As you grew older, you became familiarized with that emptiness – comfortable with it even. You begin to find yourself pushing people away when they get too close, keeping most at arm's length because that seems like the safest option, breaking your own heart before others can do it because you never want to experience the same heartbreak your father has put you through.

Despite how painful it is, you hold onto that loneliness like a lifeline because how could you not when that’s the only thing you know? How could you love when you don’t even know what it feels like?

Even though it had been years since your dad had left, the emptiness he had left behind never seemed to fade away. They say time heals all wounds, but you call that bullshit, because then why does it still hurt like a fresh stab into the heart? 

Too deep in your storm of thoughts, you don’t realize the tears brimming in your glossy eyes and the way your lips quiver ever so slightly. “Hey… you okay there?” Charles, who is standing beside you, gives you an affectionate pat on the shoulders and whispers hushedly in your ear, worried at your sudden change in demeanor. Quickly nodding your head, you answer him with the best smile you can manage, “Yeah, just remembering some things.”

While most of the drivers still have their focus on Kevin and Laura, a few have also noticed your red-rimmed eyes and quietness. “What’s wrong?” Lando mouths the question silently toward you, eyes wide in concern as he tries not to shift everybody’s attention toward you. You shake your head and mouth “nothing” in reply to him as discreetly as possible, not wanting to ruin the group’s mood with your sudden sentiments. 

As much as you want to stay, you simply need to get away for a moment to recollect your thoughts. “Uh – There’s something I need from my driver’s room, so I’m gonna head off,” you hurriedly blink away the tears and put on the best smile – a skill you learned to master after years of being in the public’s eye. You hope that the excuse you just blurted out is somewhat believable, and you quickly disappear into the distance after your fellow drivers bid you goodbye. 

While making a beeline for your driver's room, you cannot help but feel so embarrassed, so guilty for the sudden burst of emotions that erupted in your chest moments ago. “What is wrong with me?” you mumble hushedly to yourself as you make your way to the garage – irritated and beyond annoyed at yourself that the mere sight of Kevin with his daughter is enough to bring you to tears. 

This isn’t something new to you. It isn’t the first time a good father-daughter relationship has made you tear up. Movies, TV shows, song lyrics – you always get so emotional when you allow yourself to get lost in your thoughts, thinking too deeply about the painful reminders of the love that you never have. 

It makes you feel stupid, because how broken do you have to be that trivial things like these are enough to make you cry? And it makes you feel scared, so utterly scared, because what if you were too broken to ever be capable of loving someone this much, too damaged to ever receive love despite yearning for it, and end up pushing away everyone who cares about you for the rest of your life.

When you arrive at your driver's room, you take a seat in the corner, breathing in and out while the self-blaming thoughts inside your head spiral in full force. This is so stupid, you are being stupid, and you hate yourself for being a fool and letting your past trauma affect you like this. Why were you even crying? There is nothing to be crying for. Stop. You need to stop.

Then you hear someone calling your name, voice faint and soft behind the door – Max. “You feeling okay?” he asks, and your delayed response and trembling voice as you answer him, “I’m fine.” are a clear enough indicator that you are far from okay. “Alright, I’m gonna come in now.” A sigh of mixed emotions falls from your lips – annoyance that you never seem to be able to lie to the man, and gratefulness that he always understands what you really need, and right now it is the company of your best friend.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says to you, eyebrows ceasing in sadness when he notices the expression on your face. Max hates seeing you like this, especially knowing the reason behind your tears is your absent father – someone who will never be worthy of having you cry over him. 

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your race suit, guilt weighing heavily on your chest as you apologize, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin the mood back there. Did the other drivers notice?” Max shakes his head with a frown, refusing to let you blame yourself for something you should never feel guilty for. “You don’t have to be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

“I don’t even know why I am crying, honestly. Why am I still so angry and sad after all these years? It’s like… am I always going to be like this, broken? Will the hurt ever go away?” you explain truthfully to him while trying to piece your muddle-up thoughts together, yet you struggle to put them into words. How can you begin to explain the years of trauma your dad has left behind? How can you describe the mess of emotions you have for him – the hatred, the resentment, and the fact that you still love and miss him so much even after everything he has done to you?

You don’t need to, because Max understands, he always does. One of the reasons why you two became close quickly is because you share a similar, troubled past – something that is rather unfortunate to bond over, you would argue, but it brings you a great friend nonetheless. Max’s father isn’t exactly absent like yours – Jos Verstappen is still quite prominent in his life, along with his abusive and manipulative ways of raising his kids which he would vehemently deny and claims to be “tough love” instead.

Even though he is there, it doesn’t change the painful truth that the presence of his father has ruined Max. For years, he thought being violent was the way to solve problems because his dad always seemed to be able to solve his with his fist. He used to believe that you had to be perfect to be deserving of good things in life because he grew up with the punishment of “no dinner” if he had performed poorly in a race. He didn’t know if he would ever be capable of loving someone, and then he met Kelly and Penelope.

“You know… when I first met Penelope, I was terrified. I was scared that I could never be a good enough father figure for her, that I was too ruined to show her the love she deserved to have. But then I saw her, and then I realized I love her more than anything,” he confesses as he places himself to sit beside you, a reminiscent smile dancing on his lips while he remembers his first time meeting Penelope, the little girl who has become his family.

He remembers the suffocating fear of ending up like his father when he first held the hands of little Penelope, mind plagued with all the horrible what-ifs. What if he was a terrible dad? What if he couldn’t ever love Penelope? What if he was just like Jos Verstappen and ended up destroying her childhood with his anger and temper the way his dad had with his?

Then Penelope gave him a sweet smile, her tiny hand holding onto his pinky as she looked into his eyes with such trust and comfort, as if she knew that Max would love her more than anything in the world. Max genuinely thought he was going to cry, his heart surging with an overwhelming amount of love and determination to protect the little girl in front of her and give her the home she and Kelly deserve to have, and that’s when he knew that he had nothing to be afraid of – that he was going to do better than his father.

“Listen, kiddo. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it just makes the pain bearable. But there will be a day when your wound will still be there – it always will be there – but the pain and the hatred will no longer consume you. And you will realize that you can be better and stronger than your past, that you can break the cycle, that you are deserving of such unconditional love too.” You listen quietly to your best friend’s answer, exhaling a relieved sigh at the words you so desperately need to hear, giving you hope that despite all your trauma, one day you will be able to love with such certainty as well.

You are never too broken to love or be loved. You are not damaged goods that need repairing. You are not a monster for being intimidated by love and affection, for pushing people away even though you want more than anything for them to stay. You just need to allow yourself to heal from the hurtful past, to understand that your past trauma does not define you. You need to allow yourself to feel, to accept the depths of your emotions, to understand that your sadness and anger are always valid. You need to believe that you will be better than your father, that you will not follow in his footsteps, and that you deserve to be loved just as much as anyone else. 

Feeling sentimental over this doesn’t make you stupid or a fool, it just makes you human. It is okay to cry over it, to be sad over it, as long as you remember that one day – while things will never be perfect –  it will certainly get better. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Max tells you with a smile, reaching for your hand to give it a comforting squeeze, and you believe him. For once in a very long time, you genuinely believe that everything is going to be okay. The impact your father has on you will always be there. You can never wipe away the hurt and awful things he has done to you, nor can you simply erase the simultaneous love and hatred you hold for him, but one day you will learn to move on and find closure, and you are going to be okay, just like Max said.

There is a knock on the door, and you can hear your name being called again, this time in the soft and squeaky voice of a little girl. “I’m here,” you answer, and peeking behind the gap in the door is Laura with a cheeky grin on her face. Kevin leads her inside your driver's room with an apologetic smile, “Hey, sorry… Laura says she wants to play with you and insists that I bring her here.” 

You watch as Laura crawls up into the seat next to you and Max, looking at you with the brightest toothy little grin ever, and your lips begin pulling up into a huge smile as well. “Is it okay if she plays here for a while? I’ve got a team meeting in 5 and she never likes coming to those…” Kevin asks apologetically before relief floods his expression when you answer him, “It would be lovely to have a little playdate with Laura.”

“Alrighty, see you later little one,” Kevin leans down to place a kiss on his daughter’s head, reminding her to be a good kid when he is away for the meeting, and you smile at the sight. Not an envious one, or a reminiscent one, but one of contentment because you know that one day you will be able to receive and give such unconditional love to someone too.

Someday, it will be okay. You will be okay.

[notjustjavierpena]

Eat

A/N: Pussy? Eaten. Stomach? Butterflies. Hotel? Trivago.  Think this takes place short after Gush.

Summary: You tell Joel that you cannot come from getting eaten out, but he isn’t convinced. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni), dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, soft soft soft and patient joel, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, intense orgasm, pet names , bit of praise kink and body worship

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49669783

Eat

Joel has you completely naked and pinned to his bed. It’s a Saturday afternoon, sun is pining in through the curtains and heating up the room that’s already warm from your bodies being entwined. You have yet to get out of bed despite needing a shower, perhaps some food for your growling stomach, and maybe a glass of ice water from how sweaty your body is when you are in the older man’s proximity. He makes your heart pound.

He hovers over you whilst on his knees between your legs, hands on your wrists and gaze hungry as he contemplates what he wants to do with you. Your stomach drops as he asks, “Will you lemme have it? Lemme eat your pussy, princess?”

It’s not that you don’t think this is sexy. It is just that. Though, despite how many times Joel has made you come during the summer, he actually hasn’t gone down on you yet. 

He has tried a million times though, but you have always playfully pushed his head away every time he has tried to descend on your body, distracted him with a blowjob, or made him finger your cunt instead. At this point, you still haven’t told him that the reason is that you simply don’t like it. 

“Joel,” you avoid his gaze, turn your head away, “I—“

Joel hasn’t heard hesitation from you before, only the jokes that he hasn’t taken to heart. He lets go of one of your wrists, takes hold of your chin, and guides your head back so you face him again. He furrows his brow at the uncertainty in your eyes that meet his, “What’s a’ matter?”

“Nothing,” you play dumb, avoiding his curious look once more but he snaps his fingers in front of you to regain your attention. You groan at how well it works, “Why would anything be wrong? It’s just… I don’t really like it. I can’t come from it.”

Joel narrows his eyes slightly, not convinced, “Why’d you think you can’t come from it?”

“This guy I was with,” you begin and it’s Joel’s turn to look uncertain. You want to roll your eyes; doesn’t he know that he has ruined everyone else for you by now? 

“Years ago,” you add, “He told me I took too long, so maybe I just, you know, couldn’t. I didn’t want to try again.” 

Joel doesn’t get pissed at the guy or start a rant like you expect him to do (something about that boy taking this sort of experience from you and turning it into something negative). Instead, he starts laughing to the point where he needs to rest his forehead against your shoulder to calm himself because the pout you give him just makes him laugh harder. 

“What?” You push at his head in annoyance. He cannot even hold onto your other wrist anymore. 

“Took too long. Jesus,” his laughter is interrupted by a cough. You can feel his chest vibrating against your own, “He was bullshittin’ you, baby girl. What a lazy piece of shit, and what range of stupid lil’ fuckers you’ve allowed to have what’s mine.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I hate it,” you squirm underneath him at his choice of words, reaching for his hair with your hands to pull at it gently, “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”

“It is kinda funny,” he looks up at you through his lashes. There’s something sweet to his voice whilst his eyes darken, “Hey now. It’s just… ya said ya didn’t squirt either, and then fuckin’ wet the bed.”

You go beet red, “Joel. God.”

“I’m merely a man just tryna prove a point,” he jokes, earning a glare. Something shifts a little in the air and then he isn’t playing anymore, “Will ya lemme try? Just f’me? We can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t know,” you sound unsure. 

“We’ll go reeeal slow,” he pushes.

“O-okay,” you say. What’s the harm in letting him try? It’s not like it is uncomfortable for you, but rather just slightly boring and awkward. 

“Okay’s not a yes, princess,” Joel crawls up to try to kiss your uncertainty away. He pecks your lips over and over again, switching not long after to pepper your face with more gentle kisses instead. They’re scattered across your cheeks, lips, nose, above your eyebrows, soft eyelids, and chin. He doesn’t let up until you giggle sweetly. 

“Yes!” You squeak and mess up his hair, “Eat some damn pussy, if it means that much to you.”

“Try to relax for me,” he instructs and pushes himself to sit up again. His eyes have darkened further, “How do you want ya legs?”

You bend your legs, planting your feet firmly on the bed and spreading yourself open enough for Joel’s broad shoulders to fit between your thighs. He doesn’t go down yet though, keeping his promise of taking things slow in case you want to stop before it gets too intense. 

His lips connect to where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing his nose firmly into you to inhale your scent. It must be nothing but sleep and sweat by now. He opens his mouth against your skin, sucks across your collarbone until he reaches your jugular notch. He dips his tongue into the dent, and licks off the sweat before murmuring, “I can feel you not relaxin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a pounding heart and you mean it, curl your toes, but he shushes you immediately. 

“No, no. This ain’t on you, baby. Tell me what I can do to make ya relax,” he pulls back to look at your face. He looks so gorgeous with the sun hitting his body like this. 

“Talk to me,” you whisper without knowing why. 

“My baby wants to hear how gorgeous she is?” He asks as he goes back to putting his mouth on your throat. You tip your head back, and he hums against you, “How perfect ‘n beautiful ‘n sexy? Perhaps a little spoiled too?”

“Mhm, yes,” you rest your hand on the back of his neck when he starts to descend. His lips trail down between your breasts, and his huge palm covers one of them whilst he sucks on the other. He is eager, cheeky enough to tug your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You moan softly.

“Fuckin’ love your tits, Jesus, look at you,” he mumbles absentmindedly to himself before going back in. He dares to suck a light purple mark onto your skin just close enough to your nipple so that you can cover it up and keep it a secret between the two of you even if going to the lake with friends and wearing your skimpy bikini.

You groan and arch your back when he switches to the other one of your tits, cupping it still whilst lapping at your nipple. He flicks his tongue across it just when you think he might pull away, causing you to let out a long drawn-out whine. 

“You fuckin’ love that, don’t ya?” He kisses the swell of your breast, tugs a little with his hand. You close your eyes, bolts of arousal shooting up your spine again when he suckles once more. 

Slowly, you find that much of the nervousness is seeping out of your body with every kiss, lick and suck of your salty skin. It may be the time to admit that Joel knows just which buttons to push to turn you into putty. It may also be the time to admit that you are starting to get excited about what is going to happen. Nervous but excited.

“You’re so soft… like damn silk,” he admires whilst he goes lower. His nose brushes along the length of your stomach, tickling a little to the point where you shiver and let out a soft sigh. He relishes in it, “Damn, baby. Listen to that sound.”

You rake your nails across his scalp when he nips at your skin. Heat is pooling in your belly and you can feel slick drip onto the sheets, running down the cleft of your ass, “Touch my pussy, Daddy.”

Joel tenses visibly at the nickname. He grips your hip, and somehow becomes a little rougher in everything he does, “Gotta wait. Maybe your disaster college boyfriend didn’t get ya worked up enough. I definitely ain’t gonna make that mistake.”

He crawls further down, kisses open-mouthed and hot right below your belly button several times. Even places the flat of his tongue against the skin there to lick long languid stripes, “Won’t start until you beg me to kiss your little twitchin’ clit.”

“But I’m so wet,” you pout, flexing the muscles in your stomach. When you try lifting your hips to find some kind of friction, he pushes you right back down into the mattress. 

“Stop,” he warns sternly. The hand on your hip runs across your belly, teases over your mound and ghosts over your clit until you cry feebly for him, “Do you want me to just touch ya between your pretty legs?” 

“I told you I don’t like the other thing,” you reply to spite him and egg him on. He smacks one of your thighs, wiggling the flesh after. 

“Liar,” he breaks eye contact to look right down at your cunt. You are sure that he can see how you clench around nothing, clit so hard that it is exposed from underneath the hood. You are so ready for him to follow through, no matter the nervousness in your body, “The anticipation wouldn’t have you this excited if yadidn’t care. You’ll fuckin’ let Daddy live between your thighs after he’s done eating.” 

“Fine,” you huff, spreading your legs further to punctuate your sentence, “Put your mouth on my pussy. Prove it.”

Joel groans at the sight of you giving in to him. He gets comfortable on the bed, legs hanging out over the edge. One arm scoops underneath you to curl around your right thigh and the other rests on top of your left. He splays his hand across your sternum, and almost automatically, you reach for it and tug at two of his fingers as if needing something to hold onto for dear life. 

“Now we talkin’,” he smirks. 

“Hold on,” you interrupt, heart almost beating out of your chest with how horny you feel. That, and the fact that what Joel is about to do to you seems to be the most intimate thing you can think of. It feels dangerous, exciting, and scary.

You put another pillow behind your back and head, so you can watch him over the top of your tits and his hand. He grumbles but waits. 

“Go,” you say with an apologetic smile, “Just wanted to see you.”

“Ain’t you adorable?” Joel gazes up at you to follow through on your wish, “Ready?”

“Just wanna come now,” you promise, “‘m just nervous. Makes me fidget.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, breath ghosting over your pussy as he lowers himself down slowly, “Makes ya toes curl too.” 

You cannot quite believe that you have Joel Miller’s face between your legs right now, and even less so believe the hungriest smile in history that he is sporting. It is enough to make you blush, letting go of Joel’s hand and reaching up to cup your face when the anticipation becomes overwhelming. You rest your pinkies in front of your mouth, palms burning from being clasped around your cheeks but it feels like you might lose it if you let go.

The simple brush of his tongue that he chooses as a starting point has you squirming on the bed. His tongue is warm and flat against you, licking how he had done it against the sensitive skin of your stomach. 

Your stomach muscles twitch. It feels… good. Better than the first time you did it. 

“Okay?” He asks in a hum, looking up at you through his lashes with genuine eyes. You nod slowly, and he lowers again to press a soft kiss to your sensitive clit. 

And then another.

And another. 

You make a noise best described as a soft sigh. 

Then he goes lower, the kisses becoming more sloppy and wet. He stops when he reaches your quivering cunt, lets out his tongue to scoop up some of the slick that has gathered and is spilling down between your cheeks. He then licks a long stripe all the way up to your clit, and laps at it like he is eating a damn ice cream cone. 

“Mhmm, tastes so fuckin’ good, baby, like heaven,” he continues with his small licks, the hand on your chest finding your left nipple. Tugs like he knows you like. 

You moan for the first time, not sure if you have repressed the urge to do so. He takes it as a sign to keep going, stiffening his tongue to run it between your folds repeatedly and eventually settling on your clit again. He flicks the tensed-up muscle against the nub, setting up a pace that suddenly causes you to whine.

“Ohh,” you swallow thickly, part your lips and breathe heavily. A muscle in the thigh that Joel is holding flexes involuntarily, and you can feel him smirk against you when he moves back to open-mouthed kisses. 

“No, go back,” you demand, “Please.”

“Yeah?” Joel pulls back instead to tease you. He removes his hand from your thigh to suck his thumb into his mouth. He makes you tremble at the sight, but even more when he circles your clit with the pad of the finger after, “You like Daddy’s tongue on your pussy, baby?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“Say it,” he still draws lazy circles.

“Feels so good,” you admit finally with a groan, “You’re always right.”

“Know I am,” he kisses your inner thigh. The hand on your breast moves to rub soothingly up and down your belly, “‘bout time you realized.”

“I want you to keep going,” you say with a shy smile, blinking down at him, “Please, Daddy?”

His hands still on you, but then he reaches to place both hands on your inner thighs to spread you out a little further. You fall back into the pillow, and he sinks into you again, “Whatever baby wants, baby gets.”

You have never actually thought about how big his mouth is before. In fact, it is huge in comparison to everything about you. He is able to stretch his lips over every inch of your cunt, and he gladly does.

Your breath hitches before you let out a drawn-out moan. Joel eats you out enthusiastically; he licks, sucks, and even dips his tongue inside of you for a moment too. You can feel the world closing in on you, shrinking to nothing but the pressure that builds. 

“It’s—“ you want to say something that makes sense, because whatever you had done in the dim light of your college dormitory a few years prior was definitely not this, but there are no words that describe how overwhelming his slick tongue is, “It’s— oh God.”

You squeal pathetically as your cunt teeters on the edge of an orgasm. You try to press your thighs inwards to make the intensity go away, but Joel is so much stronger than you.

It hits you then. Fuck, it’s going to happen; you’re going to come with his mouth between your legs, and he is never going to let you live this down. This is not what you had planned. There is a little part of you that knows you would have relished in being right for once, but there’s a much bigger part that thanks the Gods that you aren’t going to live forever without coming like this. 

You close your eyes as you groan, but it makes Joel slow down, “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart, look at me.”

He sucks again, and your hands fly to his hair, but it only goes on for a second, “Ya doing so well. Does it feel good, princess?”

“You’re being mean,” you whimper, tugging at the strands of hair that you have between your fingers, “Make me come.”

Joel follows through then. He buries his nose in your mound and sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks with how much effort he puts into it. When you start thrashing on the bed, he wraps his arms around your legs and holds you tightly in place until you fall apart right below his mouth. 

You shriek as your cunt spasms. If not for Joel’s strength, you are sure that you would have accidentally kneed him in the face, because your legs lose control of themselves as if the orgasm has severed any connection to them. 

“Fuck, Daddy,” you break the swearing rule as your orgasm peaks, pushing and pulling his head away because you don’t have a clue whether you want more or less. Your back arches as Joel keeps licking through your drenched folds, you think you might have started to cry too. 

Shaking breaths echo through Joel’s bedroom as you come down. Joel has removed your hands from his head, and you have slumped into the mattress with a whimper. Nothing has ever felt more dirty. 

“Are you okay?” He asks after crawling up the bed to lay beside you. He rubs your stomach with his broad hand, and even that makes you let out a feeble sigh. 

You laugh with exhaustion, but don’t reply. 

“I do good?” He asks with a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his hand over his soaked mouth and chin. 

You turn your head to look at him but then start giggling, pointing to your own nose, “You got a little… you know.”

He doesn’t get it when he wipes his hand over his nose the first time. You laugh harder due to the dopamine flowing through your system, and he grumbles, “Well help me then, kiddo.” 

When you beckon him closer, he moves without hesitation, and as you run your index finger down his nose to catch your own shiny arousal, you try to push down the feeling of butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

It’s a feeling that needs to go away. You can’t possibly love Joel Miller and survive.

.

.

.

TAGLIST WILL NOT CONTINUE FROM NEXT MONTH (September 1st, 2023). FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @littlevenicebitch69 @pedropascal-whore @alltheseperfectimperfections

[bumblinv]

I desperately need baby daddy Neteyam with twins. DESPERATELY

--- papa of two ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

neteyam x f!metkayinan!mate!reader

your journey of raising your two little twins together. reader and teyam both on their early 20s

a/n ; love this man sm i got carried away writing this, hope you enjoy reading this the same as how much i love writing this piece!!

your stomach is a little crowded, dear sister

what do you mean? 

maybe it was the way you tilt your head to the side, or your clueless gaze into his cloudy orbs, or the way you look so innocently curios. what ever it was, it made honäk burst into laughter

his previous loving, gentle clicks to inspect your belly turned to a streak of high-pitched whines. you grumbled. both your biological and spirit brother, both take joy at mocking you

oh, my sweet sister, and her tsiki-sized brain

stop, brother, i am no fool

you are, he chuckles, how come you not notice your two younglings inside?

you coughed,

bubbles erupting from your mouth so violently you swam to the surface. instinctively rubbing your face from utter disbelieve as water came prickling down your braids. you phant loudly. honäk's teasing whines echoed even from the depths, laughing at your mate as he joined you soon after

"we... two, two babies... twins..."

his breathless, uncomprehend whispers of joy shook you back to reality

oh dear mother,

you've got two

                                 ˚ · • . ° .

“morning, my childrens”, neteyam breathes out,

“good morning, dad”

the man let out a chuckle againts your belly, his warm breath tickling your skin made you giggle in return

soft mornings like this really made you fall in love for him all over again. you couldn’t blame yourself, he was so loving

his voice was hoarse and eyes half-lidden, yet every morning, no matter how tired he was, talking to his children were the first thing on his list

“how did you slept?”, you asked him. voice high, mimicking the cheerful voice of a child. it never failed to make neteyam grin lopsidedly, it was like as if he was communicating to his child through you

“your momma and i had a hard time sleeping, sweeties” he sighs, acting like a disappointed father, yet a smile had crept on his lips, “but it’s nothing to worry about, since you two seemed to cannot wait to meet us, hm?”

a gentle kick, 

it made him laugh 

“i know you are excited to meet us, sweeties, but please understand,” he kissed your belly, hands stroking yours, “kicking around and keeping your momma awake at night isn’t too nice. she needs her energy to carry you two around, okay? 

another kick, 

he looks up to you, smiling so happily, “i think they understand” 

“this one’s more energetic than the other,”, you giggle as you touch the spot where your baby had kicked, “reminds me so much of ao’nung and lo’ak”  

“no, they’re just like their momma” 

“oh, teyam”, you giggled as his hand went up, cupping your cheek with his warm hand ever so lovingly. his gaze soft on yours

“i’m being serious, love”, he kissed your temple, a soft smile crept through his lips, “they’re just like their mother, a bundle of energy who loves to cause a little bit of trouble”

you rolled your eyes, scoffing playfully, “at least i’m not the person taking the olo’eyktan’s daughter ikran-riding to a quiet beach” 

“its great for field research”  

“field research? at night?”, you raise an eyebrow to him, giggling as he bites down his lips. his smart remarks died down, wich you found amusing

“sorry babies, your tough papa’s just avoiding your grammpa tonowari, he’s afraid he would get his butt whipped” 

“children, don’t listen to her. i was fifteen” he sighs, shaking his head like a disappointed father, eyes turned to you,

“they aren’t even born yet and you’ve ruined my image” 

you giggle at his words, looking up as his ears shot down, “oh, teyam”, you grab his hand, intertwining them on yours. your attention now back to your belly, smiling softly as you place the man’s hand on your warm skin, 

“but the moment your dad went through his rite of passage,” you started, guiding his hand to rub on your stomach, “when he got home on his first ever tsurak, the first thing he did was to invite my parents to have dinner with us” 

“olo’eyktan tonowari and tsahik ronal, i ask for your permission to mate with your daughter”, neteyam says proudly, a wide smile on his lips

your gaze soften. you recognize that smile

it was the same, determined and sure smile he gave to your parents the moment he said those very words, two years ago

“and that, children, was how i became you papa” 

                                                ˚ · • . ° .

aside from your fluffy and soft mornings of waking next to him, some mornings left you dumbfounded

like this morning,

it was the first time in a few months you awaken to the throaty gawks of seagulls by your window. usually they won’t show up for another hour or 5,

and the warmth radiated from the sun, you weren’t used to it. usually, the first thing that greets you the moment you wake was the silver and dimmed light of the moon

but the thought that bothered you the most was how peaceful your sleep was

it was too peaceful that it felt....

off

there were no crying, no wailing. no dirty diapers to clean. it was a quiet night, except the faint cry you heard between your sleep

your brows scrunched,

a faint cry you barely heard

quickly to turn your head to the side, and oh...

oh dear eywa,

your heart dropped

“teyam? neteyam!” 

you jumped, scrambling clumsily to your feet as you frantically called for your mate. every single drop of sleepiness, all died as you hurriedly slide off the layers of blanket and pillows littering your empty bed,

“neteyam! the babies’ gone!” 

you cannot think straight, your mind was spinning. causing all sort of thought flooding in, 

awa’atlu was quiet. but there could be a chance that there were a kidnapper running around, or maybe it was a hungry tsurak (you admitted you really did think too far), or the thought of the past few years were a mere lucid dream, 

that you were just dreaming of marrying the love of your life, having beautiful little twins together. and this morning were the moment when you had finally waken up from that dream,

and thank eywa,

it wasn’t

pay and Ììum were very much real, who turned out to be sleeping peacefully on the hands of their father

you gaze to your sleeping mate, dumbfounded

it was a peculiar morning indeed

you face palmed yourself mentally, of course you hadn’t notice them, neteyam had slept on the floor of the darkest corner of your marui, completely wasted. his face looking up, his neck stretching in an awkward position so that his head could rest on the marui’s thin walls

“mawey… mawey ma’itan”

he blabbered as soon as Ììum cooed in his sleep,

you couldn’t help but chuckle as neteyam began reciting in what you think was supposed to be an omaticayan lulluaby, wich he always sang his children to sleep

it was barely recognizable, all the lyrics were jumbled up together with no melody whatsoever. he sang it out of pure instinct

you sit down next to him, after quietly cleaning up his successful attempt to comfort his babies. empty milk bottles, fluffy blankets, all littered around his feet

ever so gently, you remove pay from his left arm. and just like you thought, she remained asleep

once you get her all comfortable in your hold, with your right hand, you move your lover’s head to rest on your shoulder. you couldn’t bear having his neck hurting by sleeping in that way

“Ììum cried all night”, neteyam blabbers, “pay did too, cause he was cyin’ too loud and disturbin her sleep” 

you smile dearly, kissing your lover on his forehead

“thanks for helping me, teyam”

“anythin for you, yawne”

[holylulusworld]

Pick you up

Summary: Daddy comes to save the day.

Pairing: Biker!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, bitchy girls, heavy daddy kink, caregiver Ari, sexual harassment (not Ari), implied violence, hurt & comfort (kinda), fluff, comforting, protective Ari

Read the prequel here: Let you down

Pick you up masterlist

“Daddy, please come pick me up. They are all so mean to me,” you sniff on the phone. “I don’t want to stay here. I thought this is going to be fun, but it’s not.”

The girls from your workplace watch you on the phone. They roll their eyes and huff.

“She calls her daddy to pick her up. We were right. She’s not mature enough for our little club. I don’t know what a girl like her wants in New York.”

You hang up and sigh. The plan to spend the weekend with the people you’re working with went down the drain the moment they started to talk low about your outfit, your make-up (or rather the lack of it), and the fact that you don’t want to talk about yourself with people you barely know.

Ignoring your nagging colleagues, you walk out of the living room to grab your bag and jacket. You will wait outside for your daddy to pick you up.

You exhale sharply when one of them follows you outside. “You didn’t have to call your daddy. How old are you, twelve?”

“Just leave me alone,” you shoulder your bag and grab the door handle. “I’ll be waiting outside. I want nothing to do with you and the others.”

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before you see his bike. Your heart flutters when your daddy brings the motorcycle to a complete stop. He plants both feet firmly on the ground, making you shiver as you stare at his long legs.

You wring your hands as he kicks the kickstand down with his left foot and leans the bike on it. 

“Fuck, daddy,” you press your thighs together, adding pressure to your tingling clit.

Ari swings his right foot over the motorcycle to get off it. He takes off his helmet and grins when his eyes land on you.

Eyes glued to Ari; you swallow thickly as he shakes his head to tame his mane.

“That’s…her … daddy?” Your colleagues gathered outside to get a look at your father. Or so they thought. They didn’t know you called your daddy, not your father. “He looks too young for being her father.”

“You are telling me!” Suzanne, the leader of the little group harassing you sneers. “That guy is not her father.”

“He’s so tall and handsome,” Caroline says. “No wonder she didn’t want to play with one of the guys. She’s got a hunk at home.”

“A daddy,” Suzanne grunts. “I knew something is off with that bitch.”

While your colleagues watch you and Ari, he worriedly calls your name.

“Y/N, what happened,” Ari asks, furrowing his brows as you run toward him to bury your face in his chest. “Baby kitten. Do I need to break bones or faces?”

“They wanted to play truth or dare, and spin the bottle,” you begin. “I agreed, because why not?”

“Okay.” Ari hums. “Go ahead. Daddy is here now.”

“Uh-I didn’t know there will be guys too, I swear.” You feel Ari stiffen. A deep rumble emits from his chest, and you know, someone is in trouble. You only hope it isn’t you. “I didn’t want to spin the bottle anymore because they changed the rules.”

“What rules? Tell me about it, princess,” you relax and take a deep breath. Ari always makes you feel safe and calm.

“They said we need to choose truth or dare. I chose dare, and suddenly the guys from the company were there too. They wanted to play too and Suzanne said I must kiss one of them.”

“I’ll kill them,” he growls. No one touches you but him. “No one forces my girl to kiss them.”

“I refused and chose truth instead. I said that I cannot kiss someone else because I got my boyfriend at home. They laughed, but agreed,” You sniffle. “They wanted me to tell them about the last time we had sex. I refused and they made fun of me. Calling me an uptight virgin.”

“It’s alright, I’m here now. Even if you were a virgin, it wouldn’t be a reason to make fun of you. They are awful people,” Ari softly speaks to you. You’re already worked up and he doesn’t want to risk you starting to hyperventilate. “No one is going to hurt you.”

“That’s not all.” You whimper now. “The game continued. The guys joined us. After a few rounds, the bottle landed on me. One of them chose dare and they…they wanted me to…”

“Baby, what happened?”

“They wanted me to ride one of the guys’ thighs. I told them that I got a boyfriend and won’t cheat on him. At first, I thought it was a joke. But they tried to push me onto that guy. I cried and grabbed my phone.”

“And then you called me,” Ari concludes as you slowly nod against him. “Good girl. You knew daddy always comes to your aid. Let me just kill them for you.”

“Please don’t leave me alone. Please,” you sniffle. “I don’t want to be alone with them ever again.”

“Princess, come with me.” Ari takes your bag out of your hands. He wraps one arm around your shoulders to guide you away from your colleague’s house and toward the street.

“Where are we going…?” you gasp as you see the whole club waiting for you and Ari.

You forgot that they wanted to go for a ride. Guilt washes over you. It was Ari’s day off and he wanted to spend it with his friends. Now you messed this up too.

Steve, the boss of the club gets off his bike. He nods at Ari as your boyfriend points at you. “Steve will take care of you for a moment. You like Steve right? He’s a good man and will protect you. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

“I’ve got her, Ari. Do what you must do,” Steve’s features soften when you watch Ari leave your side. “He’ll be right back, Y/N. Don’t worry. Ari was out of his mind when he heard you cry on the phone.”

“Maybe we should help him?” Bucky, another member of the club asks. He sneaked around the area and heard every word. “I wouldn’t mind roughing those douchebags up. Break a bone or two.”

“Buck, that’s Ari’s job,” Steve warns. “If he needs our help, we will help. Give him a moment…”

Meanwhile, at the house, Ari barks at the women harassing you. “My girl loves her job and won’t quit because of you. If you ever make her life harder or just look at her the wrong way, we all will pay you a visit.”

“We…we didn’t…” Suzanne stammers. She never got yelled at by a tall guy like Ari before and is close to wetting herself.

“I know what you did,” Ari snaps at her. “Who is the guy putting his hands on my girl? Who wanted to force her to ride his thigh?”

“Uh-it’s him!” The other men point at the man wanting you to ride him. “He said that he wants her before we started the game. We didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all Suzanne and him.”

“You—” Ari cracks his neck. “Well, then. Let me show you what happens when you harass a woman.”

“Ari. Daddy,” you run toward Ari the moment you see him. “What happened?” You look at his bloody knuckles. “You’re hurt.”

“Did you give it to them good?” Bucky smirks. “I can help. Let me break a few bones.”

“Buck, stop. I know you are antsy since your girl left, but we’ve got no time to start a fight,” Steve grunts. “Let’s bring Y/N home. She had a rough day.”

Ari carefully guides you toward his bikes. He softly speaks your name and caresses your back. “I’ll bring you home now, princess.”

After a short ride back home you are in Ari’s arms. He whispers soothing words and nuzzles his face in your neck.

You’re lying on a soft mattress, hidden under the pillowfort you and Ari built for days like these. Days in which the world gets too much for you.

“You’re safe with me, princess. Always.”

“I know,” you mumble sleepily. “My protector…”

>> Prequel

Tags in reblog.

[clxja16]

Enough

Part IV

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: Toto Wolff's Daughter Au!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: AHHHHH I think I'm done. well idk, if you guys want more, I could probably write one more. However I don't think anything will top the scene after Charles DNF in the Netherlands. I could literally talk about that scene for hours on end. I need to know what you guys think of that scene, because it's probably some of my best work ever. I hope you guys enjoy though. A lot of time and dedication went into this fic. Also this is in no way a reflection of these people in real life. This is not based on real life events. Nothing in this story is fact. This is a work of fiction, purely for entertainment purposes.

Part I, Part II, Part III

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

“I cannot believe you,” Susie says after she hears the front door slam shut from you walking out.  She slightly shakes her head, as she looks to the gods, praying for strength.  The strength to not kill Toto at this moment.  

“Me? You can’t believe me? I cannot believe our daughter, does she even think about how the rushed marriage will look to the public?”  

“Toto,” Susie sighs, “you’ve gone too far.”  She doesn’t know how she can get him to understand that you’re not a little girl anymore.  “She’s chosen Charles, and you have to accept that already.” 

“But she could do so much better…” 

“She doesn’t want better,” Susie raises her voice in disbelief.  “Toto, she doesn’t want anyone else, she wants Charles.  That’s it, that’s the end of the discussion.”  Susie doesn’t know what more to say on the matter.  

“He’s going to hurt her…” 

“Toto, that is enough, just because you had an affair that ended your marriage, does not mean Charles is going to do the same!  Why can’t you see that?”  Susie doesn’t like that she brought up Toto’s affair but it must be said.  “Pack your stuff, you’re leaving for the Netherlands first thing in the morning.”  

“I don’t have to be there for a few more days…” 

“Well, then fucking go to the factory Toto!” Susie can’t handle it anymore, as she stands from the table, “I don’t want to see you, until you apologize to our daughter.  Hopefully before her wedding, so help me God.” 

-

Charles had left, around the same time that you had earlier that night to attend a work dinner.  He returned home after you and when he did, he found you on the bedroom floor surrounded by all the legal paperwork for the wedding.  He could see your eyes were red from crying, and he knew that it wasn’t from happy tears.  You were holding a white out pen and the paperwork to change your name stood out among the bunch.  

“Ma cherie…” 

“Hi,” you greet Charles with a weak tone, you couldn’t even look at him properly. 

“What happened?”  Charles moves the papers out of the way to take a seat next to, pulling your face to look at him.  He can see more tears roll down your cheeks.  

“Daddy asked if I was pregnant…” 

Charles' brows are furrowed together at your statement, “Why would he think that?” 

“Because…” you smile a sarcastic smile, “the only people who get married this fast are people who are knocked up.”  You cry, and laugh at the same time as you recall the evening to Charles.  You take a moment before you pull away from Charles, wiping away your tears.  “I don’t want anything more to do with my father.”  You grab the paper for the name change off the floor, and prepare the white out pen.  

Charles places his hand on yours stopping you from continuing, “maybe you should wait.”  Charles’ watches you carefully, he doesn’t want to say the wrong word, “just sleep on it for now.” 

You look up at Charles, and you can see his worry for you.  He doesn’t want you to make any decisions that you will regret later on.  You stare back at the name you have written across the paper, Wolff-Leclerc.  

-

The next morning you and Charles set out to drive to the Netherlands.  The drive surprisingly doesn’t take as long as you anticipate, time travels fast with Charles.  However when you do arrive at the hotel, you realize how much the drive took out of you.  The two of you pass out, practically right away, and you don’t wake up until the next morning.  By that time, you guys have to be at the paddock.  

You make it a point to showcase that you and Charles are together.  You arrive at the paddock with Charles, dressed in Ferrari red.  Part of you does this to spite your father, the other part of you does this because you want Charles to know you pick him over everything else.  While Charles is in the driver’s briefing with the FIA, you make a stop at the Mercedes motorhome.  

The motorhome is mostly empty, the majority of the team being in the garage at this moment.  However you knew your father would be in his office right now.  He scheduled all his online meetings with the factory at this time, because the motorhome was quiet.  When you make it to his door, you don’t hesitate to knock.  

“Come in,” he says, right away.  You walk in and hand him the letter in your hand.  You don’t say a word to him, you’re trying to make this as clean cut as possible.  He takes the letter from you, “what is this?” He asks as he begins to open it up. 

“My resignation letter, effective immediately.” 

“You’re resigning, what are you planning on doing with your life?” 

“I’m going to let Charles take care of me,” you lied to your father.  You tell him this, purely out of spite.  He always raised you to be able to take care of yourself.  His biggest thing was he never wanted you to rely on someone else.  So you tell him this, just so he can suffer.  You don’t stay to see his reaction, or hear anything more he has to say.  You eventually go on to spend the rest of the weekend avoiding him.  

-

You spend Sunday watching the race in the Ferrari garage.  The beginning of the race was chaotic to say the least.  You knew Charles was making his own calls, when the pit crew is yelling at each other, and no one seems to know what is going on.  You see Fred look at you, like you have an idea of what’s going on.  You’re too amazed that Fred can see this far back into the Ferrari garage, to even give a reaction to his stare.  

As you continue to watch the race, you know Mercedes messed up the strategy.  Especially when George had a good qualifying.  Then you noticed that Charles couldn’t keep up with the Haas, and you concluded that there must be a problem with his car.  When Ferrari does decide to retire him, you see him come out of his car.  You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not happy in the slightest.  He ignores you as he makes his weigh-in and goes straight to the media pen.  You look at Andrea, and you see him shake his head. 

You head to Charles' driver's room, knowing he would go straight there after the media pen.  It doesn’t take much longer, as you hear Charles’ heavy footsteps.  When he enters the room, he doesn’t say anything.  He shuts the door, and takes a deep breath.  Then he launches the water bottle he was holding across the room, the cap comes loose as it hits the wall, water splattering everywhere. 

He takes another deep breath, before saying, “sorry.”  Charles runs his hands over his face, he paces the room as he talks, “I know I fucked up the pit-stop, I didn’t give them enough time to grab the tires, before I came in.”  He doesn’t look at you as he talks, “that was my fault, I know that, but for fuck’s sake, they left me out there to get overtaken by Hulkenburg in a fucking Haas.”  Charles sighs, his shoulders drop, he doesn’t look like himself. He takes a heavy breath, now looking at you and he says, “I’m tired y/n.” Charles sits on the floor, instead of on the bench next to you.  He sits by your feet, leaning against your legs, resting his head in your lap.  He reaches up to hold your hand, and he repeats, “I’m tired.”  His head feels heavy in your lap, you place your hand on his head, playing with the ends of his hair, while your other hand continues to hold his. He looks straight on at the wall.  

“Just rest Charles,” you say, you’re not sure how you can comfort him at this moment.  “You can rest now.”

“Can I really?” He asks, as he looks up at you.  You can see how the season has weighed him down.  You slowly nod your head at him, and he closes his eyes.  You know that he doesn’t actually fall asleep, but the two of you stay like that for the rest of the race. You stay right there, in that same position, for Charles, for until he’s ready to move. 

When the race ends, Charles finally moves, he changes out of his race suit. He heard Pierre got promoted to P3, and insisted on staying to see the podium.  You see him put on a smile for his best friend.  You watch them make plans to celebrate Pierre’s podium after Monza, during the weekend they have off.  You watch Charles pretend he isn’t tired for his friend’s sake.  And you feel your love for him grow.   You love that he can be vulnerable with you, and you love that he will always be proud of those he loves accomplishments.  

-

As soon as the Dutch grand prix was over, you and Charles hopped on a flight to Milan.  The Italian grand prix was a home grand prix for Ferrari, so there were events all week long.  Charles’ schedule was packed through and through.  You don’t bother him with the wedding stuff, you allow him to focus on Ferrari this week.  

Susie comes out to Monza, and she helps you plan for the wedding.  Although it’s a small event, she insists on getting you a dress, maybe not your dream dress, but a nice dress nonetheless.  Charles is at the Ferrari Ray-ban event, while you and Susie are going through Milan, looking at several dress shops.  

You are in one particular shop, trying to pull a few dresses to try on, when you look at Susie and say, “thank you coming Mamma.” 

Susie can see as tears line your eyes, she knows that you and your father being at a cross like this hurts you.  “Of course sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

“I wish Daddy felt the same,” you say somberly, “has he said anything to you after that night.” 

Susie turns to look back at the dresses, “I-”  She pauses for a second, “I haven’t seen your father since that night.” 

“What do you mean, you haven’t seen daddy since that night?” 

Susie sighs, “I told him that I didn’t want to see him until he apologized to you, so I haven’t see him.”  

You can’t help but let out a cackle of a laugh.  You slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself, as Susie looks at you wide-eyed.  “I’m sorry,” you say, as you begin to giggle some more, “I’m sorry, but that-”  You can’t contain your laughter at this point.  You know part of you is laughing to stop yourself from crying, but it feels so good to laugh.  And oh do you laugh, “that is too funny, you kicked daddy out of the house?” 

“Well,” Susie can’t help but to laugh at your reaction, “I had to sweetheart.”  She looks at you fondly, pushing your hair behind your ear, and you stop laughing.  “You didn’t deserve that from him,” she says seriously.  

You feel a few tears fall, “thank you Mamma.”  

Susie shakes her head, “now enough talk of your father, let’s focus on you sweetheart.”  She smiles at you, and you nod your head.  You try to push all thoughts of your father from your mind, focusing on the task at hand.  You and Susie spend the rest of the day shopping.  

-

Being in Italy does good for Charles, you can see it clearly on Saturday.  He qualifies in P3, but it makes him happy.  The fans make him happy.  And even though he didn’t really rest, he isn’t tired.  You watch him fondly from the Ferrari garage as he does the post qualifying interviews.  After he wraps up on Saturday, the two of you are walking back to his car to head back to the hotel.  You can feel the bounce in his step, how light he feels. 

“I love you,” you say, as you look at Charles, as the two of you walk. He stops, and looks at you.  His eyes full of love, as he displays a fond smile.  You take all of him in at this moment.  You can’t help yourself from falling deeper in love with him.  You’ll never love someone like you love him.  

“I love you too,” he says.  To anyone else it’s the same ‘I love you’s you said to each other over and over again, but to you, it’s so much more.   

-

It was another Sunday, another Grand Prix, and your second time watching from the Ferrari garage.  Although there is nothing technically different from the Mercedes garage, it all felt different.  Being at Mercedes it felt like a business, it felt like work. Mercedes was cold, it was calm, it was like a normal nine to five workplace.  While being at Ferrari it feels like passion.  You feel the desperation to be great like they once were.  You understand why Charles remains so loyal.  Being there, in the garage it makes you cheer for Ferrari.  You see them trying, you feel their need to win, and you want them to be great.  It only took two races, but you’re definitely a Ferrari fan.  

As you watched the race, you felt yourself constantly holding your breath.  Carlos was brilliant defending against Max, Checo and even Charles.  He drove to the absolute limit and you were amazed that he held onto the lead for as long as he did.  Charles drove the wheels off his car.  Going for ridiculous moves, and pushing it to the absolute limit every chance he got.  Although you must say, you felt like you were going to have a heart attack watching the last five laps.  Yet, when you saw the smile on Charles’ face after  the race, you think your almost heart attack was worth it.  

Watching them race makes you miss it even more.  Watching them push the car to the limit, to the extreme and hold it all together to bring it home, makes you itch to have that feeling under you.  When Charles makes his way back into the garage, after all of his requirements, he doesn’t waste any time in finding you.  He pulls and holds you close.  You let him, sweaty and all.  You can’t help but to just smile stupidly at him.  Seeing him this happy, makes you happy.  

“I know,” he smiles and drops his head bashfully, “I shouldn’t be this happy about P4, but I had fun.”

“I think you should be proud,” you say, making him look at you, “proud that you gave it your all, and you could give it your all.” 

Charles doesn’t need to say another word, as he pulls you in for a kiss.  

Toto was trying to meet Fred to discuss some things, when he sees yours and Charles' interaction within the Ferrari garage.  He witnesses the private moment, away from the crowds, from the cameras, from everyone else.  He sees you being deeply in love with Charles.  Toto has been watching you all weekend long, and last weekend too.  He knows now how much you love Charles.  He sees it now.  Toto can finally see what everyone else saw.  

“Charles,” Fred calls from across the garage, as he beckons for Charles.  You let him go, as he catches up with Fred.  At this time you notice your father standing there watching you.  

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you, as he steps closer.  

“Hi,” you say. 

Toto doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to make this better, how to fix this.  He knows he messed this all up.  He knows it’s his fault.  He just doesn’t know where to start, when really there’s only one place to start. “I’m sorry.”  

You’re taken aback by your father’s apology.  You never expected him to actually apologize.  You thought that eventually you’d feel guilty enough to make up with your father.  

“I’m sorry, y/n.”  Toto repeats again, “I should have never suggested you were pregnant and that’s why you guys were getting married.  I know now that you really love this boy, and that he really loves you.”  

You smile, as you feel a few tears line your eyes.  This time you are certain they’re happy tears.  “Thank you daddy,” you say, as you hug your father.  And just like all the times when you were a little girl, your father has made all your problems go away.  

“Now,” Toto starts off, and he pulls back from you, “may I please come to your wedding, if it is still this Tuesday?” 

“I hope you do come,” you say genuinely.  

Just outside of the Ferrari garage, Charles and Fred watch you and Toto.  Fred shakes his head at your father for being so stubborn.  While Charles just smiles fondly, because now he sees you genuinely happy. 

-

After all the festivities, you remembered the news that you had to tell Charles.  Charles had just walked out of the bathroom, freshly out of the shower.  Towel in his hand drying his hair.  He sits on the edge of the bed, while you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him.  Pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.  

“I have something to tell you,” you say softly to Charles. 

“What is ma cherie?” Although you don’t see it, you can hear him smiling.  

“I got a call from Zac Brown,” you say.  Charles doesn’t need to hear more as he turns around to look at you excitedly.  “Apparently, someone has been constantly raving about me to his drivers,” you say knowing exactly who has been raving about you to Lando and Oscar.  “And his drivers keep telling him about it.”  You laugh as you see how excited Charles is to hear your news.  “Zac asked if I wouldn’t mind doing some simulator for Mclaren.” 

“Oh this is great news,” Charles says as he pulls you into a kiss.  

“I know it’s not really back to racing…” 

“But it’s a start.” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “It’s a start.” 

“I’m so happy for you,” Charles says, as he kisses you again.  You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down.  Charles falls against you, planting more kisses over your face. 

“Thank you Charles.” 

Charles pulls away to look at you, “no need to thank me, I love to brag about my fiancée.” 

-

Today was finally the day.  Although it wasn’t a big or traditional wedding, there were certain things that your parents and Charles’ mom insisted you guys do.  Like how it was bad luck to see each other before the actual wedding.  So you were getting ready in your hotel room, while Charles and his brothers all got ready in another room.  

You tried to tell your parents that this wasn’t going to be a big event, that you would make it up to them and plan an actual wedding, however that all fell on deaf ears.  They fussed and doted on you all morning before going to the courthouse.  You look into the vanity mirror and behind you, you can see Susie and Toto.  In between fussing over you, they make up.  Your father apologizes and he makes amends.  Your mamma forgives and she loves continually.  The pieces of your family begin to slide back into place.  

As you make your way to the courthouse, Toto insists on walking you in.  You smile, allowing your father.  You wrap your arm around his, in front of you is Susie and Jack walks in first.  Just behind the door, there stands Charles.  His brothers by his side, all dressed in matching casual suits.  His mother stands just off to the side of them. You don’t know why but the sight has tears falling from your eyes, happy tears.  

“Ma cherie,” Charles exclaims as he sees you crying.  He comes up to you wiping away your tears with a smile, “no more crying already.” 

You giggle, you know a lot of tears have been shed these past few weeks.  “It’s happy tears, I promise.”  

Charles smiles at you.  At this moment, Toto unwraps your arm from his, and gives your hand to Charles.  He takes your hand, and both you and him look at Toto.  You know what this moment signifies, nothing more needs to be said.  

One thing about courthouse weddings, they are very efficient.  The officiant says what he needs to, you and Charles both say your ‘I do’s, kiss, and they announce you married.  “I now present the two of you married, as Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”  The officiant looks back down at his paper, “or I should say Mr. Leclerc and Mrs. Wolff-Leclerc.”  Your family and Charles’ family cheers at the announcement.  

-

While you and Charles took pictures down by the lake, your families watched on.  During the picture of you with your parents, did Toto whisper to you, “thank you.”  

“For what daddy?” you question, looking up at your father innocently.   

“For being proud to be a Wolff.” 

“I am your daughter,” you say, as you look back at the camera and smile.

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

taglist: @christianpulisic10 @lunnnix @honeybunchiesofoats @catswag22 @lazybot @coffeewhore18 @siovhanroy @peachiicherries @pizzalover57 @livingnotthriving@noodleboyluke@mirrorball-6@elijahslover @luciaexcorvus@styles-sunflower @nosebeers @topguncultleader @janeholt3 @perfectmilkshakeruins @coffeewhore18 @ivegotparticulartaste

[bunwritesss]

A/N: Finally some (slow) action with Neighbour!Hotch <333 Thank you so much for being so enthusiastic with my blurbs, it really means a lot ♡

"I think your Dad wouldn't be happy if he came home now and you weren't asleep, Jack."

You had been arguing with the child for so long now, because the day filled with fun activities you had planned for him apparently did not tire him out.

Jack looked at you with pouty lips and teary eyes.

"Not sleepy!"

"Maybe we could both go to your room, and I could tuck you into bed and read you a fun story? Your Dad wants you to go to bed early tonight, you have school tomorrow!"

"Daddy told me t'was okay to play late!" The child argued.

"I certainly did not."

You both jumped at the sudden arrival of Hotch, a tiny smile making its apparition on your lips. Aaron crossed is arms, his shirt and tie all messed up by the long flight, and you had to mentally fight yourself to keep your eyes on his face.

"Jack, it's 9pm. Let's tuck you into bed, Buddy."

He took Jack's hand and led him upstairs, leaving you all alone in the living room. You were accustomed to this routine, and simply sat into the couch, waiting for Aaron to come back as you would both talk about your days. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for hours, depending on the day he had and on the schedule you would have the following day. So you took your phone out, quickly responding to some messages, your best friend harassing you to get some news about the "sexy neighbour situation", and urging you to make a move.

It took some time for Aaron to go downstairs, as Jack was still filled with energy, but he ended up coming back to you, two glasses in his hand. You could immediatly smell your favorite drink in the glass, and a big smile graced your face.

"How was work this morning?"

Aaron was the one asking. You usually did not ask, but let him tell you what he wanted to share. There was no need to remind him of the horrors he had seen throughout the day.

"Boring. There was some drama with someone I already told you about though... You're gonna be shocked!"

Aaron watched with a smile as you animatedly told the story, almost dropping your glass many times out of excitation. He ended up softly taking the glass from your hands, placing it on the table near you to prevent the arriving accident. And when you finished your story, his eyes were wide.

"And she did that?"

You nodded enthusiastically, taking your glass back to have a sip.

"Yes! I told you, she really makes no sense! I wish you could visit her and profile her, because I really do not know how to deal with her."

Aaron laughed wholeheartedly at your remark.

"It would be a nice break from the people I usually profile!"

You laughed as well, and remembered your best friend's words as he placed a friendly hand on your knee.

"Anyway, how was Jack?"

"Kind and fun, as always. Fell in the park this morning, but he took it like a champ!"

"He told me you bought him Pokemon bandaids just to comfort him."

You nodded, responding wisely.

"There's no injury that cannot be patched up by some cartoon bandaids."

"Well, Jack is definitely on your side on this one!"

You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping out of your glasses, and trying to discreetely look at the other (and pathetically failing).

"Thank you so much for babysitting Jack so often." Aaron broke the silence, and you smiled at him.

"It's no problem, really! Jack is such a sweet child."

"And he loves you as well. Told me he wouldn't be mad if you became his new parent."

Your eyes widened and Aaron snickered. Maybe you were helped by your best friend's words, maybe you were just feeling brave, but you said without thinking:

"Maybe take me to dinner first, and I'll think about it!"

He stopped laughing for a few seconds, apparently not expecting you to react like that (take that, mister profiler!). And he shrugged, always a confident man.

"I would love to, to be honest. How about tomorrow night, if you are free?"

It had taken him one look at your face and nervous hands, to guess you were only half joking. And he had immediatly jumped into the rare occasion.

"My coworker recommanded me this charming italian restaurant, that I promised him to try anyway."

You nodded, a sudden need to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.

"It would be a pleasure!"

He smiled at your words, and you cleared your throat to gain some contenance back.

"8pm, tomorrow?"

"That's perfect!"

He smiled, and you slowly rose up from the couch. Now that you had earned yourself an obligatory two hours phone call with your best friend, you had to leave early.

"Maybe I'm going to get back to my house, you had a long day, and I am getting tired."

This wasn't a lie, Jack really was a dynamic child.

"But thank you so much for the invitation! I really cannot wait."

He walked to his door with you, and placed a hand on the side of your face as he kissed the other cheek.

"Good night, Y/N."

You smiled back, looking at him directly in the eyes.

"Good night, Aaron."

He watched as you walked back to your house, only closing his door when he was sure you were home.

[artificialbreezy]

This is a niche thought but I live for your nsfw headcanons so pls hear me out. Your birthday, Noah makes you cum for each year you’ve been alive (23 orgasms if you’re 23 etc) I cannot be the only one thinking this

this is the best thing i’ve read today omfg

nsfw under the cut ◡̈

he’d totally bring up as a joke.

“ya know how you’re supposed to get birthday spankings? like one for each year? well, what if i made you cum once for each year?”

brain goes empty bc WHAT IF but you play it cool, “i mean i think id get TIRED by the time your done. let alone i don’t know if i can even get off 23 times”

he wouldn’t bring it up again UNTIL the day of your birthday

you’d be fast asleep in bed, and he’d be kissing your neck and working his hands down your body trying to wake you up

you’d slowly stir awake and just look at him all sleepy “whatcha doing Noah?”

“just wanna make you feel good on your special day baby”

then he’d give you your first one on his fingers

the day would move on according to plan right, but when you got home from your birthday dinner with the whole gang is when he’d really step it up right?

he’d push you against the wall in the living room, right by the front door. “baby, you remember what i told you the other. one orgasm per year?” and you’d just nod because he’s leaning on the wall over you and your head is just a mess

Noah is a munch right. we know this. he’d lift up the bottom of your dress, pull your panties to the side and immediately lick a wide strip from your entrance to your clit

he’d give you number 2 of the day right against that wall

by the time you make it to his bedroom you’re on number 5 and he’s ONLY used his mouth and hands

he’d sit on the edge of his bed and pat his thigh “mere baby. want you to fuck yourself on my thigh”

at this point you’re just desperate, you’re a little fucked out but you refuse to call it quits until he’s inside you and who knows when that’s gonna be at this point

you feel your the edge right there but you’re so tired, so Noah grabs your hips and does it for you

“too dumb to get yourself off huh? don’t worry sweetheart, daddy’s gotcha”

after you cum again, he’ll pick you up off his lap and lay you on his bed FINALLY

“god you’re soaked baby”

“Sir, please. need you”

he’d laugh at your desperation but since it is your birthday he’ll play it nice

he’d drag his cock up your folds just to tease you a little bit

when he finally decides you’ve had enough of his teasing, he’d slowly push himself inside you.

“fuck. you’re so tight. relax angel, gotta relax so you can let me in. yeah?”

he’s the type of man who would grab your legs and push them to your chest so he could really bottom out and FEEL you so that’s exactly what he did

his thrust are slow and steady at first, sweet almost

“happy birthday angel. now you know i love you right? because im about to fuck you like i don’t.”

he 100% wouldn’t stop until you safe worded or passed out tbh

i feel like the ending point was 10 or 11.

your body was so numb and so tired and just on a whole other world when he finally called it quits

you’d definitely end up in sub space

“can you hear me honey? ya with me?”

“what a good girl. did so good for me baby. so proud of you.”

“i gotcha angel, im right here. im going to clean you up now okay? just relax and let me do all the work.”

[dwailol]

My Favorite Pose

ComPOUND Round 3 [Bucky x Fem Reader]

Minors DNI 🔞

Summary: First morning of your week alone in the compound with Bucky. He adds himself to your morning routine. ;) Established relationship. If you’ve been following the plot PLEASE STOP but your powers and vaguely why you stayed behind are revealed.

Warnings ⚠️: smut af, bondage, a lil rough but not too much, oral (m and f), praise kink, p in v, unprotected

WC: 1.7k??

It’s 5:30 AM and there are little to no off days even for low key weeks like this. I get up and walk to get the specially designed breakfast that F.R.I.D.A.Y. planned for me. If there is one thing I miss about my past life it was a big flavorful breakfast… well and my family not being the reason the rest of the Avengers are trying to save a population of innocent people.

Surprise! I’ve got daddy issues. That’s my whole conflict of interest that kept me from the mission. I can’t do it. I told them not to tell me who did it if they are gone by the end of it. No matter how much I’ve been burned by them I’ll still hesitate.

I take my last bite and walk to the training center. I try to quiet my mind with some yoga before I get into the intense workouts. As I move into downward dog, I feel Bucky’s two hands pull my ass to his crotch. He gives it a light squeeze that still hurts because of the marks he left on it last night.

“Downward Dog - my favorite pose. What are you doing up so early Angel?”

“You know that pet name can only stretch so far,” I stand up. He throws his hands up with a cocky grin.

“Sorry, it’s just so fitting. I haven’t seen them in a while. It’s kind of hot when you pop them out. You should give me a quick show,” he says with that grin somehow getting smugger. The lack of sleep I got last night really motivated me to remind him what got me here in the first place.

“Careful what you wish for.”

In less than a second I sprout my wings then clap them hard in front of me which sends him flying across the room. I retract them back in an instant. He gets up laughing and clapping.

“Woo! That is what I’m talking about angel! I would ask to see the other stuff but we don’t want to set the building on fire do we?”

I can’t control myself when my other powers ignite - literally ignite. While he playfully annoys me, I don’t think I could ever release that hell fire. My powers are not “biblical” but they sure are other worldly.

“I need to get back to it. There’s food in the fridge. Just don’t touch my meal prep,” I hate that sentence just left my mouth.

“I don’t want your meal prep,” he walks behind me with our bodies facing the mirrors and his hands snaking up and down my body. “I want you. If you wanna get some training in I can show you somethings,” he says into my ear while tucking my hair back. So unfair.

“I don’t have-“

“You see this?”, he picks up my yoga strap. Out of nowhere he runs in front of me to kick the back of my legs. We both fall to the floor. He has me pinned down and starts tying the strap around my wrists.

“This is called a constrictor knot. In the event you have a disobedient girl giving you attitude, this knot comes in real handy,” he pushes his hand up my shirt to grab my breast. He moves it back down into my leggings and starts rubbing.

“Fuck. I could do whatever I want to do to you right now. You’re so wet. I cannot wait to get my cock inside you.”

I feel his fingers slip in and out. I let out a whimper. The sounds of my wet cunt make him growl. With a loud grunt he rips my leggings off. His fingers are back inside me and moving with fury. His eyes are hungry and he plants his head between my thighs with force.

As his tongue moves around my clit, I let out some “Ah! Ah! AH!”s. I start thrashing my body from the pleasure. He takes his vibranium arm to hold my hips down making me immobile.

“Whatever I want to do to you. Don’t make me repeat myself again. Now what do we say?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He sits up to free himself from his shorts. I am towered over with his cock in my face.

“Get to work doll. Let’s practice some breathing exercises for your training today.”

He puts his cock in my mouth and I start to move my head up and down. His length hits the back of my throat and I cough choking on it.

“Such a good girl for me trying so hard. Now you’re getting that pussy filled.”

He pulls on the strap to lift me up for a sloppy kiss with my taste still on his tongue. He drops me to the floor again to pin me under him. In no time his cock is thrusting into me with a speed so fast it shakes my body back and forth.

“I’m really making you mine this week. I’m gonna fuck you in every room I can. Get ready to drop whatever you’re doing for me whenever I want.”

I need this honestly. Losing my body to him feels more comfortable than I ever thought it would. My helplessness to his pounding excites me with both safety knowing he’s the one doing it and anticipation for what he might pull next.

He pulls the strap up so that I mesh into a seated position with him. He pumps into me with an unmatched passionate kiss. His free hand runs through my hair and gives it a pull in the back. He releases a heavy breath and moan. I’m squealing as he hits my g spot and my clit rubs against his body.

“Fuck Bucky! You’re killing me!”

“Good thing we know you’ll go to heaven then.”

He turns me onto my stomach so that I’m facing the mirrors. I arch up my ass anticipating his next move. I grip onto the strap preparing to take him. He kneels behind me and picks my head up.

“Look at you catching on. Now watch yourself get fucked.”

He slams his cock back inside me and thrusts with power. My high pitched screams are music to his ears. He grabs my ass and slaps it back and forth a few times.

“I thought I was being your good girl?”, I tease.

“Don’t act like you don’t get pleasure from my punishments. You might be my good girl right now but doesn’t mean I won’t give you a reminder of what’s in store for bad girls.”

“Not fair,” I laugh. Wrong choice.

He flips me over swiftly. He pulls tight on the strap to put the end in front of my face. His grip tenses around it.

“You remember this? I decide what’s fair and what’s not. You’re all tied up Angel. You take what you get and believe me you’re gonna get it.”

He throws my arms down then smacks the side of my ass with his vibranium hand. There is pleasure in his punishments. His movements are the hardest and fastest I’ve felt from him since our first time.

“I’m getting close to giving you my next load. I’ve loved filling you up with all my cum and watching it drip out you. Shows you’re all mine. No one else gets this pussy but me.”

My body tingles at his words. I give him an affirming mhm. He grabs my face.

“I wanna hear you say it ‘Bucky this pussy is yours’ if you want this load. Sing me that beautiful song Angel and it’s all yours.”

“Bucky…,” he hits the spot again which throws me off track.

“Bucky this…,” he cues for the rest of what he wants to hear. He lifts my hips up and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I scrunch my face then open my eyes wide as I feel my own cum.

“It’s yours! It’s yours! I promise it’s all yours!”

Mmmmh! I feel his huge burst of cum in me. He pulls out and it was definitely the biggest load of all the rounds so far. My hands are set free with some mild brush burns. He grabs my hands and gives them each light kisses.

“I’ll be more careful next time bunny. You just get me too hot,” he groans. I get a kiss loaded with tongue.

What a wonderful first morning with him back!

[heavyhitterheaux]

Boys Day Out

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

Synopsis: First Lady sends her favorite boys Jack, Axel, and Urban to the Chelsea game

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist

Requested by: 1/3 of hot chips and bad decisions @hoodharlow 😘

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Hearing the doorbell ring,  you checked the security cameras to see that it was Blanca and Jessica and quickly went to open the door from your spot on the couch that you had been sitting on.

Once they stepped into the house, they took notice of how quiet it was and looked at you confused.

“Where is everyone? Because I don't think I have ever heard your house this quiet.” Jessica whispered, ultimately waiting for her nieces and nephew to tackle her. Because she knew that it was only a matter of time.

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” Blanca added as the two of them followed you into the kitchen as you poured all three of you a glass of red wine.

“Umm, Y/N? It's 9 in the morning.” Blanca called out to you once you had slid her glass in front of her seeing as you still haven't said anything.

“I'm fine, just taking it all in and it's 5 o'clock somewhere.” You said while sighing and immediately downing your glass and opting now to drink straight from the bottle.

“I-......” Jessica started to say as she and Blanca exchanged a look.

“Do we….”

“No, you do NOT need to call him.” You blurted out immediately knowing she was talking about Jack.

“We're going to have to disagree with you there.”

“I sent him, Ax, and Urb to London for the Chelsea game because they were getting on my last nerve. Not Axel, but the other two. I love them to pieces, but got damn. I needed a breather. Jack has been up my ass lately.”

“Uh? When is he not? That's your husband?” Blanca asked you not understanding because there was never a time that you didn't want to be around him.

“I'm trying to plan something for him that's really special and I can't do that when he is breathing down my neck. Now add three little people into that equation. I can't even pee by myself anymore without one of my four children, yes, I said four but I should have said five because Urban is my oldest banging on the door. Last night I was this close to sleeping in the bathroom with the door locked.”

“And Jack would have still broken down the door to get to you.”

“Correct.” You sighed while continuing to sip from the wine bottle.

“But where are your other two?”

“With my parents. I called my mom this morning and I was like you begged for grandchildren so come and get them.”

“I literally CANNOT.” Blanca exclaimed while laughing.

“I put Ivy and Autumn on the doorstep with their backpacks with clothes and toys for the entire weekend and I was like see you next week. I really wanted to say see you when you're 18, but that wouldn't have gone over well so now I have been sitting in silence and I am not complaining one bit.”

Meanwhile, Jack, Urban, and Axel had just landed in London and on the way to the hotel, Ax asked Jack for his phone.

“Daddy, can I see your phone?”

“What do you need it for, bubs?” Jack asked as he stuck his hand in his pocket to get it out.

“I need to talk to mommy.” Ax answered without missing a beat and Jack knew that it was only a matter of time. 

“Hold on, let me facetime her.”

You answered on the second ring and all you saw was a fluffy head of brown curls.

“Mommy!”

“Hi my baby boy. Move the phone from your face a little. All I can see is your hair!”

Jack helped him adjust it so now you could see both of them.

“There's my two handsome boys. Well three because I know Urban is there somewhere too.”

“I still haven't forgiven the two of you for leaving me at wing stop.” Urban said while leaning over so that you could see him too.

“Urby! That was ONE time!”

“One time too many!”

“Wifey, what are you up to?” Jack asked as he saw you nursing a bottle of red wine. Little did he know, this was your second.

“Enjoying sitting in complete silence besides B and Jess.”

“I…. Not hot chips and bad decisions!”

“Yes, hot chips and bad decisions! Leave us alone!”

“Jack, stop getting on your wife’s nerves!” Jack heard Jessica say as he saw her walk past in the background.

“Jessica! And don't eat all my snacks either!”

“Well I have to because we came to watch the game with wifey and keep her company!”

“Baby? Since when do you watch soccer?” Jack asked while looking at you confused.

“Since today. And I always used to watch you play anyway.”

“Mommy, I miss you.” Ax piped up and you could feel the tugging of your heart strings.

“Ax… we literally just got here.” Jack said while shaking his head and Urban stifled a laugh.

“Daddy, you just said that you missed mommy before we called her.”

“I…. it be your own kids.”

“I miss you too bubs!” You said and saw him crack a small smile.

“But you don't miss your husband?!”

“Yes of course I miss my baby daddy, but you and Urby have been getting on my LAST nerve this past week.”

“Wait! NOW WHY AM I IN IT!?” Urban exclaimed while leaning back over into the camera and looking confused.

“Urban Henry… don't go there with me. You and your best friend act more like toddlers than my actual toddlers.”

“I… I'm going to get you for that when I get back.”

“Mm hmm, sure. Anyway, I love all three of you very much, but especially Axel Wyatt. And have fun at the game. And Axel?”

“Yes, mommy?”

“Be on your absolute best behavior for daddy and Uncle Urby. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Listen to everything that they say, okay?”

He eagerly nodded his head as you then focused your attention on Jack.

“I love you, smush.”

“I love you too, baby girl. Promise to call you later.”

The three of you were in the kitchen making snacks for the game when a picture suddenly came through on your phone from Jack.

Smush- I thought the shirt was fitting so I had to buy it. We're eating and then going to the game. Hot chips still got you in one piece over there?

You- I'm about to yell and you know why I'm about to yell but I'll give you a chance to fix it first. Send me a pic of Ax in five minutes and what I see will determine if I kick you and Urban’s ass. And yes I am in one piece, but you and Urby won't be if you don't fix what's wrong

Urban was sitting across from Jack and saw how his face got a confused expression and immediately asked what was wrong.

“Do you see anything wrong with the pic of Ax I took?”

“No. It looks fine.”

“Then why did she send me this?” Jack asked as he shoved his phone towards Urban who instantly rolled his eyes.

“Why am I ALWAYS in it!? And what in the world are we supposed to fix in five minutes!?”

“Your guess is as good as mine! Even though there's an entire ocean between us, I take her threats seriously.”

“Only a matter of time before she shows up if we don't fix it.”

Jack quickly sent you another text telling you how confused he was.

Smush- Baby, I'm not understanding 😕 

You- You have three minutes

“URB! HELP!” Jack yelled while shoving his phone towards him.

“WHAT YOU YELLING FOR?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HELP YOU IF I DON'T KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON EITHER?!”

“This is just as bad as when I thought I lost my wedding ring.”

“Had us both stressed out but she had it the whole time.”

“Bubs, finish up your food so we can get to the stadium and put on your coat.”

“But I'm not cold, daddy.”

“Ax, if we go home and you end up getting sick, your mother will not be happy with me so put it on. And put your hat on too.”

“So, you want me to be hot?”

“Axel, put them on and put them on now before I call her.”

“Fine.”

It was the middle of the game when the three of you were watching in your living room when the camera suddenly cut to Jack, Urban, and Axel and your eyes instantly went wide as you grabbed your phone. Jack still didn't figure out what was wrong with the picture of Axel that he had sent you earlier, but seeing him at the game without his coat on while Jack and Urban was wearing theirs had you instantly annoyed. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a sick Axel because he is literally Jack in a little kid's body and acted exactly how he did when he got sick.

“Why doesn't Axel have on his coat?” Jessica asked as your fingers were flying across your  phone screen asking your husband the exact same thing.

“That's what I'm asking him right now.”

You- Jackman Thomas Harlow

Smush- 👀

Smush- Whatever it is, I didn't do it and neither did Urban because I know you’re about to throw him in there too

You- If our child comes back to Louisville sick, I will not be happy

Smush- Why would he come back sick?

You- He doesn't have on his coat!

Jack then turned to Axel who had once again taken off his coat after he had told him numerous times to keep it on.

“Bubs!”

“Yes, daddy?”

“Put your coat on! Why do you keep taking it off!?!? It is 40 degrees out here and your mother will kill me if you have so much as a sniffle when we get back. And where is your hat!?”

“In my pocket.”

“Axel Wyatt….”

“Yes?”

“You have five seconds to get your hat and coat on.”

This continued on and off for the rest of the game and Axel only kept his coat and hat on for a total of thirty minutes between Jack and Urban telling him to put it on.

The three of them were now flying back and Jack was praying the entire time that Axel wouldn't start sneezing or spike a temperature. He was currently laid out on Jack when he felt his forehead and it was slightly warmer than usual and he immediately groaned. 

“She's going to have a damn fit.” He muttered to himself, but Urban heard him.

“Not your fault that he kept taking it off.” Urban responded while shrugging.

“Hmm, tell my wife that and tell me how it goes.” Jack replied as Axel shifted his position on his lap and cuddled closer to Jack.

Jack and Axel had been back for a few days when you heard several sneezes in a row from your husband and all you did was sigh as you walked in the direction that he was in which was your bedroom meaning that he was awake.

When he spotted you, he looked up at you with his eyes red as well as his nose.

“No. Don't you dare say it.”

“Say what, baby?” You asked him while coming up to hug him and reaching up to give him a small kiss which he gladly accepted.

Your immune system could handle it and typically while everyone in the house was sick, you weren't.

“Your son got me sick.”

“Oh, so now he's my son? Since when is he not yours too?”

“He's the one who didn't wear a coat for the majority of the time and I'm the one who gets sick. How does that work?!”

“Because kids are literally walking germs. That's why.”

Axel peeked his head into your bedroom and you motioned for him to come all the way in.

“Yes, bubs?” Jack asked and Axel sighed before letting out a fit of coughs.

“Daddy, you got me sick. I don't feel good.” He said as he reached up towards Jack so that he could pick him up.

“I did WHAT NOW?” Jack asked as he picked him up.

Axel didn't have time to answer, but instead sneezed on Jack who had a look of disbelief on his face.

“Seriously Ax? Bless you.”

“Sorry, daddy.” Ax answered as he did his best to cough into his arm.

“And mommy, I was so cold when we were at the game.”

“I….” Jack started to say but then turned back to look at Axel.

“That's what happens when you don't listen to daddy and you got me sick. Not the other way around.”

“I didn't start coughing until you did.”

“Okay, enough you two. Get in the bed, NOW.”

“Do we get cuddles from you?” Axel asked looking up at you hopeful as Jack climbed into the bed with him in his arms.

“For now, you're cuddling daddy because you are not getting mommy sick. I'll bring meds and food soon.”

Axel sighed as he looked up at Jack.

“You aren't mommy, but I guess you’ll have to do.” He said as he climbed on Jack’s chest and laid down while trying to get comfortable.

“Really, Ax?”

“Daddy, just try not to snore. I'm taking a nap, wake me up when the food is done.”

“As long as you don't kick me like you usually do we shouldn't have a problem.” 

“Not my fault you take up all the space.”

“You little…”

“OKAY! Both of you lay down right now.” 

Without another word, both of them did as they were told and you simply placed kisses on both the tops of their heads.

“Not another word out of either of you and Ax, the next time daddy says for you to put on your coat and hat in 40 degree weather, you do it.”

“But.. “

“Not another word, remember?”

This led to Axel getting a pout on his face and cuddling closer to Jack who simply laughed.

“So much for boys day out. Now the both of you are sick.”

Suddenly your phone went off in your hand indicating a text from Urban.

Urby Baby- Your son got me sick

You- Well according to him his father got him sick

Urby Baby- Can you bring me soup? PLEASE

You- I do something nice for the three of you and this is what I get in return? I have to take care of all three of you now that yall are sick!?! Do I have to do everything!?!?

Urby Baby- Come on Lil Bit, I said please!

You- Be over here in fifteen minutes 🙄

Liked by y/ninsta, blancahood, jackharlow, claybornharlow, jessicakelce, saweetie, druski2funny, dualipa, and 492,736 others

urbanwyatt: and it was at that moment, jackharlow knew he fucked up lmaoooo

lilnasx: who was he texting? urbanwyatt: lilnasx as Axel likes to call her, the boss lol jackharlow: I was fighting for my damn life in those text messages. wifey going off and me not having any idea what she's talking about y/ninsta: and now all three of you got me sick smh jackharlow: y/ninsta that leads to ultimate cuddles from me and Ax y/ninsta: jackharlow so he can sneeze in my face like he did you? jessicakelce: now you do something nice for them and this is how they repay you? outta pocket y/ninsta: jessicakelce same thing I said smh urbanwyatt: y/ninsta my soup was good bestie. thank you 🥰 y/ninsta: jackharlow babeeeee my throat hurts jackharlow: y/ninsta I got a cure for that 😏😏😏😏 jackharlow: y/ninsta wait, baby why'd you lock the bedroom door?! not you leaving me and Ax outside y/ninsta: jackharlow when you say stupid shit like that, this is the result lilnasx: jackharlow what the boss says goes jackharlow: lilnasx not you too 🙄

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@knack4harlow

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@bout-mine

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

@a-moment-captured

@jackmans-poison

@valentinqee

@lightsoutstyles

@j-worlds-blog

@middlechild404

@0elliotswhore

@iknowdatsrightbih

@w1ldthoughts

@love2loveonme

@hufflewhore128

@shawtypoison

@fantasywritersstuff

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

taking what's not yours - f. castle & m. murdock

a/n: ALRIGHT ITS FINALLY DONE uhhh sorry this has no smut i was just goofing and wanted to write something cute with our two favorites and you guys seemed to really want this one so! i have no regrets actually! im gonna go take a nap now warnings: polyamorous relationships, frank has nightmares, reader is autistic, reader has an oral fixation/biting problem, nosebleeds/blood, crying, cursing, lots of cute nicknames, talks of death, some sexual comments, lots of kissing and fluff word count: 3.2k comments and feedback are always appreciated <3 summary: a week in the life of a relationship with frank castle and matt murdock, your two favorite vigilantes. pairing: frank castle x autistic!gn!reader x matt murdock now playing: taking what's not yours - tv girl "you know where to find me/and i know where to look"

Soft country music from before country music as a genre went modern and became what it is today plays from the radio Frank insists on keeping on while he cooks dinner. His flannel is tight around his chest and the sleeves are rolled up as he brings a spoon to his mouth, tasting the sauce he’s been preparing for the past few hours. He adds more pepper.

The door opens from across the apartment, and all he hears is, “Frank! Tell Matt to stop being mean to me!” You and Matt make your way through the apartment after taking off your shoes and coats, Matt loosening his tie as he follows you into the kitchen. Frank turns when you step into the kitchen, immediately moving over to him and finding your place in the crook of his arm.

“Red bein’ mean to you, honey?” Frank asks as he kisses the top of your head, grinning at Matt as he huffs, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter if it’s handsome if he’s so mean, does it?” You ask.

“No, it doesn’t,” He grins, and you stick your tongue out to Matt playfully, and he mimics you before going over to Frank and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Hi.” The lawyer hums, happy to be back home with his two favorite people.

“Hi.” Frank grins, unsure of how serious you are about Matt being mean to him. “What’s going on, why are you being mean?” Matt raises an eyebrow at you, unhappy with your running to Frank.

“Can’t just run to daddy to fix your problems, pup.” He accuses, and you scoff. His words are playful, but your face is red at the call out.

“You know what, Murdock—”

“Hey! Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Frank cuts in, and Matt tilts his head in your direction, and you quietly plead for Matt not to tell on you, and--

“They bit me.” Frank sighs at his words.

“I was being affectionate!” You immediately go into defense mode, ducking out of Frank’s arm, trying to casually walk off from the pair towards the fridge, only for Matt to grab your arm, pulling you between the two men, your back against Frank’s chest, face to face with Matt.

“You cannot bite people, pup.” Matt says, and you frown.

“I like biting people—”

“That’s a problem!” Frank’s words attempt to be serious, but they’re coated by a soft laugh as his hands, rough from a long day of working blue collar, rub up and down your arms.

“See? You’re getting Frank to agree with me, do you know how hard that is to do?” Matt hums, and you tilt your head.

“What? You love Frank, it’s actually kind of gross—”

“It is gross isn’t it?” Matt asks teasingly, leaning up to kiss Frank again. You roll your eyes at the fact that you’re being reprimanded by your boyfriends, sandwiched between them, forced to deal with the consequences of your actions. “But I’m being serious, okay?”

“Matty,” Your head leans back against Frank’s chest, “I don’t bite anyone who isn’t you or Frank..”

Alright, let’s level with each other—Frank and Matt are well aware of the fact that you’re neurodivergent. You get overstimulated with loud, crowded situations very easily, you struggle to understand jokes a lot, and you once told them that in middle school, you became so hyper fixated on waffles to the point where you ate them for breakfast and lunch most days, practically begging your mom to let you have it for dinner most nights (She let you have them once a month) and then, after fourteenth months, you stopped. You have not been able to eat a waffle since.

The point is the two men you’re sandwiched between are no strangers to your neurodivergence. They know it’s stimulating in the best way to chew or suck on something, your oral fixation coming back with a vengeance after you tried to repress it for so long. You chew on everything. You chew on the strands of your hoodies, you chew on your sleeves, you chew on ice, gum, you chew on your boyfriends, and you chew on your cheeks to the point where you draw blood, which always gets Matt to scold you, because he can smell the coppery blood from his place across the room, and immediately tells Frank.

Matt Murdock is a little tattletale.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Frank hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ll get you something to chew on—”

“What, like a chew toy? That’s embarrassing,” you groan, and Matt just laughs a bit, leaning in to oppress a kiss to the shoulder that Frank is not leaning on.

“Then stop biting, pup.”

You pause, contemplating the options you have. Fix your biting issue or have Matt and Frank fix it for you. Honestly, you don’t think you have the neurotypical willpower to fix this problem, so you go,

“Okay, fine. You guys have my permission to do what you want to fix it.” You huff. Frank presses a kiss to your cheek while Matt presses a kiss to the other. You feel the smirks against your skin, and you realize what’s happening before you can run, “Wait, no, I swear to god—” Matt picks up your legs with ease as Frank secures his arms around your torso, the pair beginning to carry you to the couch. You groan as they throw you onto the leather couch, landing with a huff. “You’re both awful.”

Matt leans down and bites your shoulder.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

“Jokes on you, Daredevil, I’m into that—” You feel Frank sink his teeth into your arm.

“Wrong answer.” Matt responds for him.

//

Later that night, after dinner, you’re laying against Matt, your legs resting in Frank’s lap. You’re listening to music, and the environment is very relaxed, none of you are particularly on edge. Matt’s fingers are resting in your mouth. You relax like this a lot, just sucking his fingers gently. You’re absentmindedly just sucking on his fingers when you bite down on them—It’s not an accident, and Matt would call you out on it if you lied.

So when you bite down, not entirely consciously, he huffs, “With the biting, baby, come on,” he softly condemns, and remembering your deal, Frank gets up with a sigh, patting your leg before he got up and headed to the kitchen. You’re confused for a second before Matt’s nose twitches with recognition, so he grabs your shoulder and pulls you close, his hand finding your cheeks and squeezing your mouth so that it’s in an ‘o’ shape.

Frank approaches you with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and the rest of your features are squished by Matt’s hands. Frank scoops a big wad of peanut butter onto the spoon before sticking it in your mouth. You’re confused, as Matt’s hand leaves your face, as you begin munching on the peanut butter.

You take a while to eat the peanut butter, quietly enjoying the taste while enjoying how long you’re keeping yourself busy, since it’s taking a long time to work down the peanut butter due to how sticky it is in the roof of your mouth. When you’re done licking and enjoying the taste of the peanut butter, you look to Frank.

“What was that for?”

“Well, it kept you busy from biting, didn’t it?” He grinned. Your face is flushed as you hand him the spoon.

“Can I have some more?”

Frank chuckles and kisses you quick.

“Sure, honey.”

//

A few nights later, Frank sits on the couch of the apartment, the windows open wide as he listens to the howling wind outside. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, he doesn’t know. His skin is still hot, trying to relax after waking up from a nightmare. It’s always the same. Maria and his children, always dying in his arms. Always sitting at the kitchen table, always with you and Matt, always dead.

The chill that comes in from the window is enough to make him feel alive through as he quietly waits for Matt to get back. He’s in an old tee shirt and sweatpants, flicking his lighter on and off in the quiet as he tries to focus on something that isn’t the idea of the pair of you dead, dead like his wife, dead like his kids, dead dead dead—

“Frank? What are you doing up?” Matt’s soft voice echoes through the apartment, and his head tilts softly. He goes over to the couch, still in his full Daredevil suit. Frank stands up and goes over to him by the window, pulling off his cowl just to look at his face. His hand lands gently on Matt’s face, his thumb rubbing gently on the scars that surround Matt’s eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Matt catches the lie and does not call him out.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Frank’s jaw hardens, and even though Matt cannot see, he avoids his gaze. And in a moment of pure vulnerability, he wraps his arms around Matt, holding him close. Matt’s hand gently runs up and down his spine, trying to comfort him. After a few moments of quiet, he asks, “Do you want me to wake them up?” You were always better at making people feel better than Matt was—Especially Frank.

“Nah.. No point..” He says quietly. After a few more minutes of quiet, he feels another pair of arms wrap around him from behind, your chest against his back. You press soft kisses onto the back of his shoulders.

“Too late.” Matt hums. You’re wearing an old tee shirt of Frank’s, a pair of boxers you bought for yourself and a pair of Matt’s fuzzy socks. You stay there for a little while, sleepily hugging Frank, comforting him. Your eyes grow heavy, and slowly, you fall asleep against him, just for a moment. Then, Frank picks you up, and you wake up again, tired.

“What? What’s going on?” You ask him, and he just smiles down to you.

“We’re gonna go to bed while Red showers, and he’ll be right back.” He tells you, gently placing you on the bed. You yawn as Frank crawls into bed, and you find yourself on top of him, your legs tangled with his. You listen to Matt shower and fall asleep waiting for him to come join you. 

He comes back out with his hair wet, in just his sweatpants. He tucks himself into bed, his arms around Frank, as you sprawl out on top of them, desperately needing to be close to both. Frank is nowhere near tired. Matt knows that, and just gently kisses his hair and the back of his neck.

“You need sleep.”

“You ain’t the boss of me, red.” He grumbles, and you hush them harshly, causing them to both laugh a little bit. Matt slowly falls asleep, trying to stay awake to comfort Frank, but he’s spent his entire night beating the shit out of goons and criminals, so he’s absolutely spent. Frank tilts his head and presses another kiss to his lips. “Go to bed, I’ll be okay.” Matt wants to protest but he just buries his face in the crook of his neck.

Frank’s hands gently trail your torso a bit. His hands are rough and sort of cold, but they just explore your back as he attempts to find sleep. It’s a fruitless venture, but he doesn’t mind. He’s okay with just listening to the pair of you breathing. 

//

“Are you two wearing my flannels?” Frank has about seven flannels, and he has four in the wash and one that has a tear waiting to be fixed, so he’s looking for his spare two when he finds you painting Matt’s nails on the floor of the apartment. You’re painting Matt’s nails a nice shade of dark red, with little hearts in a lighter pink.

That had taken a lot of convincing, really, but once you had agreed not to bite him all day, he reluctantly agrees to let you paint his nails, desperately wanting to be good at something and be focused on one thing for more than twenty minutes.

Periodically, Matt’s foot will tap against your back, reminding you to adjust your posture as you work on your masterpiece. He just got done with a big court case, so he tells you he’ll maintain your artwork for at least a few days. But yeah, you two are most definitely wearing Frank’s last two flannels.

“They’re comfy,” You defend, focusing on your work. Matt’s foot taps against your tailbone to remind you to straighten your back.

Really, Frank doesn’t mind. But he enjoys fucking with the two of you, so he just smirks and sits behind the pair of you. ‘

“But they’re my clothes—”  

“Well, you should have thought about that before you left them out, Frank.” Matt smirks, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

“Besides, look how good Matt looks in your clothes!” You hum, leaning over to nudge him gently, a grin on your face. You finish up Matt’s nails, capping up the nail polish as Matt begins gently blowing in his nails to get them to dry faster. Then, you wipe your nose, thinking it’s running, and when you pull away, you see a swipe of blood on Frank’s warm flannel. Oh, fuck.

With his slightly wet nails, Matt’s movements are not nearly as quick as he would have liked as he smells the blood before the gushing really starts, ripping off a paper towel and quickly holding it under your nose, and you take it from him to hold it there as he stands up, going to get something softer like a tissue or toilet paper to pack your nose—

You hold the paper towel to your nose, and guilt already starts to eat at you, as hot tears fill your eyes and then you feel silly because you think Frank might think you’re overreacting, but you just find his hands on your shoulders as he says,

“Hey, hey, why are we crying?” And you feel even sillier.

“I ruined your flannel.”

Frank had been covered in blood more times than he could count, as has Matt—their bodies are riddled with scars, head to toe, bullet and stab wounds echoing over the rough skin of both men, mostly faded now, but Frank is no stranger to blood—It doesn’t even bother him anymore, and Matt can’t see anyways, so what does he care about the sight of blood?

But you, who cannot kill the bugs that find their ways into your apartment, who gasps and covers their mouth when you accidentally curse in church (Matt always laughs, the dick), who orders the same lunch every day and has been unable to drink anything that wasn’t ice water, are horrified at a swipe of blood on a stolen flannel.

“Oh, no, honey, you didn’t ruin anything,” He shakes his head, and gently tugs at the flannel that hangs on your arms, “Come on, let me get this off,” The Punisher’s voice is gentle, a type of gentle reserved just for you, one that the countless skeletons in his closet, all with a bullet in their skulls, do not know and could not possibly perceive. You allow him to slip the flannel off, as Matt comes back with a rolled-up tissue, before sitting in front of you, kneeling as if he’s at mass—

“Lean your head forward for me,” he asks, his hand on the side of your head, and you do, taking the paper towel away, just for Matt to gently push that bundled up piece of tissue into your nose, to get it to stop bleeding.

Your boys, they are experts at getting things to stop bleeding.

At least Matt’s nails look really nice.

Frank throws the flannel in the wash, along with the rest of your laundry, and you find yourself sandwiched between them, the perfect amount of squeezing happening on either side of you, the same affect a weighted blanket would have on you. Your hot tears roll still, quietly betraying you, as the pads of Frank’s rough fingers come up to wipe them away, and Matt’s thumb finds it’s place sitting between your lips.

You sit like this for a while—Frank pressed up against you, Matt in his flannel and you, gushing blood from your nose, packed tight with tissues, and Matt’s thumb as your favorite stim toy.

//

A few days later, you’re just decompressing from work—Your bones ache, and you’re waiting for Matt to get home, wanting to satisfy that oral fixation, as if it’s the worst craving you’ve ever had. Sensing your restlessness, Frank puts a small package in front of you. You raise your eyebrow, and look at him, skeptical.

“Is it a bomb?” He scoffs and chuckles a bit.

“Open the damn package.” His voice is laced with the smirk that sits on his face, not mad, not upset, not at all judging. Your fingers peel back the packaging, and when you’re done unwrapping, you’re left with a soft necklace, and a blue, rubber moon. You look to him curiously. “It’s uh,” he leans down so his forearms are keeping him up against the counter. “You chew on it. You’re not gonna stop bitin’ or sucking on stuff, so, you might as well bite something that isn’t human.” He tells you.

In truth, Frank had spent all damn day scrolling on your laptop, looking for the perfect fix to your problem, and grew frustrated when he realized that all the stim toys were marketed towards young boys who had the privilege of getting a diagnosis young (living with and loving two people with disabilities, as well as having horrible PTSD, has radicalized Frank Castle).

You grin when you hear his explanation, getting up and going to him, resting your hands on his shoulders before leaning up and kissing him softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Honey.”

From across the apartment, you hear the door open, and a voice calls out,

“Are you guys cheating on me? You know I can hear you across the apartment, right?” Matt’s voice calls out, and you laugh, as Frank just smiles.

“Yes, I can, Red,” He says back, before leaning in to kiss you again.

//

Your eyes are heavy with sleep as you spot Matt, laying across the couch, looking like a god damn renaissance painting. He’s so hot. You find yourself walking over to him, dropping your new necklace on the coffee table, as you climb on top of him,  finding yourself literally acting like a blanket, burying your face in his neck as his hand comes up to, like usual, let you gently suck on his fingers.

Frank rolls his eyes when he sees the pair of you cuddling, and just shakes his head when he sees the stim toy abandoned on the table. He takes out his phone and takes a picture of the pair of you, Matt just in his briefs, and you in your entire pajama ensemble.

The apartment is full of a gentle silence, as Frank watches the pair of you sleep, quietly thankful that he kept living.

[pahtoosh]

Imagine y/n manages to down a cup of coffee while daddies!stucky is trying to calm them down while chasing them throughout the house

ugly shirts and caffeine crazies

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~9800 words

warnings: maybe a little 🤏 too long. baba calls you a brat🫢 daddies take off their shirts later for silly reasons

a/n: thank you, lovely anon for this suggestion! i am actually very sensitive to caffeine myself so this really spoke to me hehe😁 like i cannot drink coffee at all or i will be a bouncing wreck and i can’t have tea after 5pm!! or i wont sleep!! i need my daddies to help me cos sometimes i forget and i get a nighttime boba with my friends and then i don’t sleep until 5am😳

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)

summary: Bucky and his baby have a disagreement over a shirt. while baby runs away, they manage to drink Steve’s coffee

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Steve whistled a happy tune as he began making his morning coffee. Because of the serum, he didn’t need the caffeine to get through the day, he just liked the routine. As he waited for it to cool down slightly, he began preparing breakfast.

It was a lovely, quiet morning. The sky was slightly overcast and birds were chirping. Unfortunately, peace in your house could not last for long.

“No! I don’t wanna!”

“It’s your only clean shirt right now, Angel.”

“It’s ugly! I hate it! I hate it!”

“Hey, we don’t use that kind of language here. Now put on the shirt or you’ll be getting a time-out.”

“You can’t make me, Baba!” You escaped your argument with Bucky, dodging past him to run into the living room.

He groaned and followed you out of the room, finding you hiding behind the couch. “Baba’s not messin’ around. Come put on your shirt. Now.”

His strict baba voice should’ve been a warning, but you were not putting on that shirt. The colors were all wrong and the printed design was incredibly thick, making it uncomfortable to wear.

“No! You can’t make me!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

“You have to catch me first!” You ran away again. This time, Bucky chased after you instead of following at a walking pace like before. He almost caught you but you threw a pillow at his face and ran into the kitchen where Steve was trying to ignore your fight.

You froze, not expecting to see your Dada. Just then, Bucky came right behind you and trapped you in his arms. “Gotcha.”

“Noooo!” You squirmed, trying to escape his grip.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh after seeing the two of you. Bucky was out of breath and his hair was messed up, you were half-dressed, and both of you looked so angry at each other while Bucky practically hugged you from behind.

“What’s going on here?”

“This one,” Bucky said, not breaking his staring contest with you. “Is being a little brat and refuses to put on a shirt.”

“Not just a shirt! It’s the ugliest shirt in the whole wide world!”

“We don’t have any other clean shirts for you, remember? You. Have. To. Wear. This. One.”

“I. Don’t. Wanna!”

“God, the both of you are so stubborn,” Steve said.

At the same time, you and Bucky stopped glaring at each other to say “no I’m not” and “nuh uh”.

Steve threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Well, let’s just see this so-called ‘ugliest shirt ever’ and then see where to go from there.”

You nodded. “Yeah! And then Dada will see how ugly it is and I don’t have to wear it!”

“Or Dada will see that it’s just like any old shirt and you have to wear it anyway,” Bucky teased.

“Buck, no.” Steve freed you from your vibranium trap and got down on your level. “I’m gonna help you, okay sweetness?”

You nodded smugly and stuck your tongue out at Bucky. Dada was on your side, not Baba’s.

The three of you made your way to your room. While walking, you noticed your daddies giving each other certain looks. It was like they were having a silent conversation. Maybe Dada wasn’t looking out for you like you thought he was. Maybe he was only saying that to make you stop fighting.

In reality, Steve was making fun of Bucky for his childish behavior and Bucky was silently arguing back, demanding Steve to not tell anyone about this.

No matter what they were talking about, you couldn’t take that risk. You let go of Steve’s hand and ran off again, confusing your daddies.

“What the-“

“Baby, where are you going?”

Bucky put his hands on his hips. “Not so easy, is it?”

Steve groaned. “C’mon, we’ve got a runaway to catch.”

Meanwhile, you were frantically looking for a place to hide. Behind the couch wouldn’t work, Baba found you there last time. Maybe the kitchen! The island was a good size to hide behind and if your daddies came up on one side, you could sneak your way around the island in a circle and they’d never see you.

You went behind the island and sat down, trying to catch your breath. All this running around was making you tired and thirsty. Above your head, you spotted a mug on the counter. You checked to see if the coast was clear and took a sip. And then almost spat it out. It was the worst, most bitter-tasting drink you’d ever had.

Although, it was beginning to make you feel better. You drank as much as you could handle and then put the cup back before returning to your hiding spot. You could just barely hear your daddies looking for you in the living room over the sound of your own heartbeat.

“Where could they be?”

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to- wait, do you hear that?” Your daddies halted their movements.

You placed a hand over your nose and mouth, hoping that the air purifier in the living room was enough to distract them from the sound of your breathing.

Bucky sighed. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s just find that little troublemaker and then we can get on with our day.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Catching you was a very, very difficult task. Your hatred for the shirt combined with the energy from the coffee allowed you to beat out two supersoldiers. Steve and Bucky were exhausted, both of them laying on the living room floor while you jumped from one hiding place to another.

“What’s gotten into them?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to think we’re not winning this fight. I mean, our baby’s running circles around us.” He looked at Steve. “Think it’s time to throw in the towel?”

“Ugh, maybe. It’s kind of embarrassing that our adversary is screaming and dancing around the house while we’re just trying to catch our breath,” Steve joked.

“We’re getting too old for this.”

“Ya got that right, pal. I’m gonna go drink my coffee. Hoping it’ll give me a second wind.” Steve got up and went to the kitchen. When he saw his partially empty mug, he connected the dots and facepalmed.

“Buck, we’ve got a problem.” He returned to the living room. “That little sneak drank half a cup of black coffee.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he sat up. “How?”

“I guess I left it on the counter? And they were hiding in the kitchen for some time so..”

One of your giggles cut through the tense conversation.

Bucky sighed. “Alright, I’m done fighting the beast. It’s team no shirt until that laundry machine gets fixed.” He got up off the floor and brushed off his hands before taking off his shirt.

Steve laughed. “What are you doing?”

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Your two shirtless daddies met you in your playing room. You were hiding behind the coloring table.

“Are you in here, sweetheart? Daddies are here to throw in the towel- or shirt, I guess.”

“You win, babydoll.”

You carefully peeked over the table. “You tellin da truth?”

“Yeah. Look at us, team no shirts just like you. Can you come out now? We missed being with you all morning.”

You squealed and ran to hug them, bouncing excitedly. “Yay! Yay! Yay! Now we all don’t wear shirts! Can we do this all the time? ‘Cause then we don’t wear shirts and then we only wear pants and then when we don’t wear shirts we don’t have to wash shirts and then we don’t have to fold shirts and then we only have to wash and fold the pants and that’s so-“

“Woah, woah there. You’re talkin’ so fast, your mouth is about to fall off,” Bucky said.

You gasped and held a hand over your mouth.

Steve poked him in the side. “Baba’s only joking, baby. No mouths are falling off. But we do have to fix the problem of you drinking coffee.” He held your shaking hands. “Do you feel different right now? Maybe super energetic and excited or nervous?”

You kept bouncing on your feet. “YEAH! I feel like I can run forever! And I can run fast! And I can talk fast and my heart goes fast too!”

“Yeah, it’s fun for a little bit but it’s not good to feel like this for too long. We’re gonna take you to Uncle Bruce for a little check-up, okay? Maybe he can help get you back to normal.”

“OKAY DADA! Can Uncle Bruce be team no shirt too?”

Steve sighed. “I forgot about that, I don’t think we’re allowed down there without shirts on.”

You tried breaking away from Steve’s grasp, but he learned his lesson and was not letting you go.

“I not wear da ugly shirt! No, no, no!”

“Please, baby? Just for one hour?”

“NOOOO!” You stomped and turned every which way, trying to free yourself.

Bucky looked down at the floor, trying to wonder how you all got into this mess when he got an idea.

“Angel? What if you wear Baba’s shirt, hmm? It’s not as ugly as your last shirt, I hope.”

You stopped squirming. “Maybeee.”

“Just try it and if you don’t like it, we’re bringing a baby in a blanket down to Uncle Bruce.” He carefully put the shirt on you, starting with the neck hole and pulling the sleeves over your arms.

You marveled at the feeling of the soft, lightweight fabric. The sleeves were extra long, letting you curl your hands up inside them. Best of all, it smelled like your Baba.

“I love it! I love it soooooo much! Oh! Can I wear your shirts all the time, Baba? I promise I give them back! And Dada too! I wear Baba’s shirt today and Dada’s tomorrow! And the next day is Baba and the next day is Dada and the ne-”

“We’ve gotta see Bruce.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

One check-up later, Bruce gave you a special medicine to cancel out the effects of the caffeine. You were now tired from the whole ordeal of running away from your daddies all morning.

After lunch, the three of you cuddled on the couch. You read a couple of books and took a nap. Nap time was especially cozy with both your daddies there and because you were still in Bucky’s shirt.

Eventually, the laundry machine would get fixed, but you still loved wearing your Dada and Baba’s shirts from time to time. You insisted that you all trade shirts because it was so fun. Usually, it’d just be you wearing one of your daddies’ shirts, but sometimes you could initiate a three-way trade and see one of your daddies wearing your shirt. It was so funny seeing a super soldier wearing a t-shirt with a dinosaur riding a bicycle on it, especially when the shirt was a size or more too small.

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part II

A/N: They won’t leave me alone now. God help DILF!Joel. A follow-up to Baby-Making.

Summary: You're an expert in being difficult during your first pregnancy. Few things help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel's POV, a bit of arguing, softdom!Joel is a simp and a bit of a brat tamer, pregnancy sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint.

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051/chapters/124097539

Tempers

It turns out that pregnant you is a handful. Joel has been through it with Sarah’s mother, but he doesn’t quite remember that she was as difficult as you are turning out to be in your second trimester. You throw hissy fits, gag at the smell of his cologne, complain about him breathing too loud, make him go on snack patrols at two in the morning, cry at the sight of baby animals, yell at him until you cry for getting the wrong kind of Oreos, make him hold your hair as you throw up said Oreos.

Sarah sends him several grimaces behind your back, practically fleeing the house every time she has the opportunity to seek shelter at her boyfriend’s home to avoid the ticking bomb that you are. Joel is left with you alone, and he hates to admit it, but he absolutely loves it. 

For you, he’ll take the extra trip to the store even if you claim that he is the biggest asshole to have walked the earth. He’ll draw you baths, make dinner how you like it, kiss the top of your head as you puke, and buy you plastic flowers if the smell of real ones makes you nauseous. All this even if it has him confused, even if it bruises him a little. Your mood swings like the sixties and, luckily for you, he absolutely loves the sixties. 

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t you fucking sweetheart me,” you seethe whilst emptying the dishwasher with a good amount of difficulty due to your growing baby bump. Joel has offered to do it several times now, and the problem, why he is getting yelled at, seems to be that you are too stubborn to admit how much strain it is on your body to bend down after the plates. 

Joel stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the frame with his shoulder. He observes the way you have a hand on your belly as you crouch down. He weighs his words, “’m just saying that—“

“I can do it,” you say but it seems mostly to be directed at yourself. Joel doesn’t show but he finds your pouty face and attitude attractive. It’s cute and sexy at the same time when your non-threatening frame yells at him, but he also likes sleeping in his own bed so he won’t tell you.

You try a different position, go after the cutlery instead of the plates. One of the forks falls to the very bottom of the dishwasher, lying between the plate racks, and you let out a frustrated growl. 

Joel cannot help the laugh that comes out of his mouth. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Your voice breaks, tears coming out of nowhere, “Stop being mean.”

“I’m not. I’m just tryna let ya know I’m right here if ya need me to do it,” he continues, trying to hide the amusement on his face. 

You suck in a frustrated breath, then a deeper one to calm whatever emotional reaction is bubbling up inside your chest, and try one more time. You bend your knees, bump pressing into your thighs and the position puts a strain on your back. Quickly, you put a hand against the lower part of your spine, “Ow.”

Yes, he loves your stubborn attitude, your difficulty, your horrible temper tantrums. Right until now.

Joel straightens immediately at the sound of your painful discomfort. He is on you in mere seconds, not amused anymore, and with a frown on his face when he grabs your shoulders, “Right, that’s it. No more of that.”

“I can—“ 

He is the one to interrupt now, “Absolutely not.”

He guides you towards one of the chairs in the kitchen, sporting an expression of controlled anger. He knows that you value your independence, but seeing you hurt yourself, and therefore his child, in an attempt to maintain it simply won’t fly with him. 

“Sit,” his voice is stern.

Your lips are parted slightly at his command. You look doe-eyed, flushed red, and slightly shaken as you fall down into the dining chair. Joel leaves you there, not ready to have an argument with you about it, and goes to empty the stupid fucking dishwasher.

“Joel,” you squeak. 

“Not now,” he warns, “You’re fuckin’ infuriating.”

“Joel,” you try again, this time a little louder. 

“What?” He whips around, a plate in his hand that his fingers clutch harder at the sight of you; you are pressing your thighs together, breathing through your still-open mouth. You look flustered. Horny.

“Fuck me,” you plead shamelessly. You don’t try to get up. Joel feels pleased with that.

“Jesus, baby,” he tuts in disbelief.

“Please, please, please,” you continue and the tears in your eyes have only increased, holding onto the edges of your seat until your nails dig into the wood and he is sure the paint will come off the furniture.

Joel sets down the few plates in his hands on the kitchen counter. He crosses the room to stand in front of you, breath hitching in his throat as you look up at him through your lashes. Fuck, you are pretty.

“That what my baby needs?” He asks, tilting your head backward by putting a finger under your chin. He then gently cups your face, wipes a tear away with his thumb, and leans down to kiss your lips, “No hissy fits if I fuck ya? No need to run to the grocery store for cookie dough ice cream?”

“Can’t promise that, but not today at least,” you say softly, pushing out your bottom lip to make your irresistible angel face. Joel gives in so easily to you these days, knows that he’d probably do whatever unreasonable demand you asked of him today anyway — and every single day after. 

“You’re unbelievable, momma,” he chuckles, his frustrated anger having completely disappeared from his mind at how cute you are, “C’mere.”

He helps you to stand, “How you wanna do this?” 

You turn your back to him and lean down over the dining table, bump hanging out over the edge and your sensitive tits pressing into the surface. Every single drop of blood in his body rushes to his cock so fast that he feels dizzy, and whilst he is regaining his composure, you are already getting out of your comfortable bottoms and your panties. 

“Fuck, baby,” his stomach swirls at the sight of you. The top you have been wearing is crawling up over your belly as it is no longer held in place by your pants, the dimples on your back showing to him and he wants to press his thumbs into them as he has you right there.

You whine impatiently as you hear the sound of his zipper being pulled down, and it causes you to look back over your shoulder with a frown. He knows what is coming, “Get on with it then.”

“Christ, can’t even fuck you without you bein’ a pain in the ass,” he rolls his eyes and lets out a tch-sound, wants to smack your ass to shut you up. When did you become such a brat that is totally at the mercy of your hormones? He fucks you all the time. This is new. 

“Actually,” you begin and Joel sighs extra loudly at the word for dramatic effect, “There’s no fucking happening.”

“Yet,” he gives in to his urges and lets his palm connect with your ass, relishing in the lewd sound of skin being slapped. It makes you yelp, flesh jiggling as the blow vibrates through your extra pounds, “Think there’s a term called delayed gratification.”

“Just put it in, please, Joel,” you settle for begging instead. He’ll allow it. 

He doesn’t bother stepping out of his jeans, simply shoves his pants and boxers down to his knees. He grabs the swell of your hips, steps closer to the back of your thighs whilst simultaneously pulling you closer too, “Just lemme take care of my pregnant girl. Ain’t gotta be a battle all the time.”

He removes one hand from your hips to stroke himself a few times before teasing your slit, cockhead just dipping shallowly into you. He doesn’t push fully into you just yet despite his body screaming for your wet heat. It earns him a little noise, your head hanging between your shoulders and your legs shaking a little. 

“Do you understand?” He asks, sliding his dick between your damp folds and between your thighs to catch on your clit. You are obscenely wet, coating him in your natural slick as he presses between your legs. You start to rock your hips to feel any kind of friction against your cunt. He holds his cock steady for you to use, “Do you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whine with sensitivity, hips pressing back into him. He has noticed how quickly you come lately, but he isn’t going to give you that satisfaction right now unless he is balls deep inside of you, “Yes, I understand. Please.”

Joel is satisfied with that. He pulls back a little, and with his fist wrapped around his cock, he presses against your opening.

“You don’t have to do a thing, y’know. Just gotta grow my baby, and lemme do all the stupid shit ‘round the house,” he enters you in one go, pushing all the way to the back of your soft and pregnant cunt. You engulf him so easily with how soaked and warm you are, accepting his girth without hesitation. 

He lets go of the base of his cock when he is sheathed inside you and lets his hand come up around your waist to rub your swollen belly. He is gentle when he does that, resting a large palm under the roundness of it to keep the strain at a minimum. 

“That’s what I’m good for?” You egg him on, wanting a reaction; in this case getting fucked stupid, “Just lounging around and getting stuffed with cock?”

“Yeah, whenever you please, I might add,” he groans with you at the first snaps of his hips. He settles a rhythm. Fucks you hard, rushed, and desperately right there against the breakfast table until the vase of flowers on it nearly tumbles to the floor with how much the furniture shakes.

Nobody can blame him, he thinks as he pounds you until you are a crying mess. If anyone had had your delicious cunt for months with a stupid piece of rubber between you, they sure would lose control themselves when they had the chance to fuck you without it. The fact that he gets to as often as he does makes him the luckiest man alive.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you pant weakly, turning your head to rest your cheek against the surface. The hand on your hip slides up to rub between your shoulder blades, soothing you when he notices tears running down your nose.

“Shhh, I got ya, momma,” he reassures. He presses his other hand against your bump to angle your hips slightly and finally gets the opening to glide over your g-spot repeatedly. It makes you shout, eyes screwing shut whilst the sound of your crying reverberates through the tiny kitchen.

He knows your body so well, can sense that you are close after he’s started to reach so deep inside of you. Your moans grow louder, the pitch of them climbing higher with each of his thrusts and it’s downright filthy. He wants your voice to crack, and it so often does with how puffy and hot your cunt always is these days. You come so hard for him.

“Joel— I’m gonna come,” your breathing is so rapid, walls fluttering around his dick and tugging him closer to his own inevitable demise. There’s a moment where your stuttering whimpers come to a halt, breath caught in your throat for less than a second before you exhale sharply. 

The sensation of your cunt spasming around him pulls him in and nearly makes him unable to keep going. Your voice does indeed break, sweat breaks at the small of your back and you sob loudly as your pussy grips him hard enough to send him right to the edge.

“Come in me,” you mewl, can probably feel his cock pulse and grow inside of you. Your voice is weak, legs barely able to hold yourself up after your climax, “Please, Daddy.” 

The nickname has a direct line to his cock. He comes in the next moment, a loud moan slipping from his mouth at the first white rope that shoots out and coats you from the inside. He fucks into you through his orgasm, wet sounds becoming more obscene as his release mixes with your slick. 

Joel holds you steady as he pulls out of you, guiding you to sit down on the chair once more despite being naked on your lower half. He’ll clean up after you, leave the kitchen without evidence of your sinful actions. 

“Okay?” He asks after hurriedly tugging on his clothes again to tend to you. He rubs a hand over your belly, “Didn’t go too hard?”

“Stop fussing,” you say with the most blissed-out smile on your face. He appreciates that there is at least one way of dealing with your horrible temper, “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Wait here,” he orders but you don’t show signs of getting up from your seat anytime soon.

He leaves to get a flannel from the bathroom, soaks it in lukewarm water to not make it feel uncomfortable against your spent pussy. Though before approaching you again, he digs a hand into the back of the kitchen cabinet to fish out a little reward. 

“Oooh, gimme,” you perk up, making grabby hands as he holds out a Double Creme packet of Oreos. You tear the wrappings off, stuffing one into your mouth, and do a happy dance as he cleans you up.

“Was all you needed, huh?” He chuckles, knelt on the floor in front of you.

“Dick or Oreos?” You tease, chewing obnoxiously loud to irritate him. 

“Charmin’,” he shakes his head, “Are ya happy?”

“Happy wife, happy life,” you argue before stuffing another cookie into your mouth.

.

.

.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

Join my taglist

[lutewife]

luci with a short ma le reader the uses as an arm rest please?

Shorter!reader, male!reader, reader has anger issues, Lucifer is a smug mf, mutual pining

Warnings: Silliness all the way

Notes: I gotchu darlin'. My first ever male reader request, finally!! Sorry if it's too short (get it? short haha...), I have writer's block rn, so it's hard for me to even get to work 🥹🥹 But I cannot leave my requests hangin', so have it, nevertheless! Enjoy.

First of all, damn how come you're shorter than Lucifer?

Well, at least you're taller than Niffty, that's something. I'm sorry

The demon wonders that too when he first meets you. Considering that the first thing you do is...

Laugh at him.

"Damn, who would've thought that the king of hell would be this..." You gesticulate with your hand. "...Small."

You have the nerve to behave like that towards him, I'll give you that.

But the sight of Lucifer standing next to Alastor, who's a freaking giant compared to him is just too funny.

Until the irritated monarch comes up to you.

Everything would be fine, if it weren't for that you are MUCH shorter than him.

Damn it, genes!

The sight from above would be even funnier; an angry duckling, just looking up.

But he wasn't looking up, he was looking down. And he was fucking terrifying.

But hot.

You were just about to say "Sorry, daddy", but bit your tongue.

That would be kinda gay.

And a death wish to the boot.

But to your surprise, you weren't dead — yet. Instead, you felt something resting on your head.

Which was his arm.

How the tables have turned...

"Sooorry, couldn't hear you from down there, what were you saying?" He exaggerates smugly and leans into you even more, causing you to bend under the weight.

Oh, come on! You're not even that short! (You are.)

You try to free yourself from the fallen angel's strength, but fail miserably, as his smile widens even more.

So this is your life now...

From now on, whenever Lucifer visited the hotel, he bullied you, mercilessly.

Although the demon wouldn't admit it himself, it was only because he took a liking to you and your snarky behaviour.

That's why he loved turning it against you.

You were drinking with Husk? Lucifer sat next to you and used your head as an arm rest, causing you to slouch in your seat, comically.

You were trying to decorate the hotel with everyone and couldn't reach somewhere?

"Hey, dumbasses! I can't reach the place you made me 'decorate'!" You yelled with irritation. Why was the world always against you? After Angel told you to chill and Charlie apologized a little too much, Lucifer appeared. "Dad?! What're you..." "Don't worry sweetie, I got this." After saying this, he immediately scoops you up and using his wings, he flies up to the place (or rather much higher than it was needed). You blush furiously and swear him out in every language you know, just to hide the fact, that you like being bridal carried by him a little too much. Gay. "Y-You! You dumbass king! You, you, you...! You dumbo! Dumb bitch!" "Stop struggling! Is dumb the only word you know?!"

Anyway, you try to break free, and it ends with you falling on Lucifer and him falling face flat on the floor. Ouch.

Well, to put it mildly, your relationship was... Funny. One day, you were vibing in the library, as usual. But you couldn't reach the book on the last shelve, even after standing on a stool. Great. (Un)fortunely for you, Lucifer was just looking for you. Seeing you struggle as always put a smile on his face. "Need some help with getting that?" "Shut the fuck up. I can get this myself." You jumped up on the stool, but with no result. You tried to do it more times, but it was the same. "Sooooo?" God, you wanted to wipe his stupid, smug grin off his face. But you didn't have a choice. Bearing yourself, you groaned. "Get that for me." "Couldn't hear you from down there, what did you say?" "I'm... I'm literally higher than you, now." He ignored his obvious slip up and you sighed. "Can you..." You groaned again. "... Please, get that for me?" When you still didn't receive a reaction, you asked, as if on the verge of irritation. "...Seriously?" "Yes." He straightened out. You facepalmed, cringing, but said it either way, in monotone voice. "Oh, the all mighty and incredibly hot king of hell, please, for fuck's sake, GET ME THE BOOK!" Wow. You really had stroked his ego with that. Apart from the last part. "Gladly." In a blink of an eye, he flies up and, as if teasingly, leans on you to reach the shelf. Unfortunately, the stool you were standing on wasn't a very stable thing. So naturally, you fell down. And it looked painful. Lucifer hadn't expected that in the slightest, probably forgetting his strength. So when you let out a pained groan, he starts to panic. Blabbering incoherently, he fails to notice that you are okay and have literally stood up a while ago. Your irritation has now reached its peak. Who gave him the right to be this fucking cute while being so annoying at the same time?! You pull the literal king of hell by his bow tie to reach your level. Your noses were basically touching at this point. You definitely were intruding his personal space, but your anger was stronger than your common sense. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up." You whispered harshly. And as if subconsciously, without even feeling the movement of your body, you pulled him into a kiss, in which you expressed all of your pent-up frustration. Utterly flustered Lucifer didn't even know how to react, so he just gave into your heated frustration. After a while though, you move away and look into his confused eyes, slowly realising what you did. You turn around, not to show your undoubtedly too red face. "You are so fucking annoying, dumbass." You just say, trying not to voice break while doing so. You quickly run away from the situation, leaving the profusely blushing Lucifer completely flabbergasted. And then... "LET'S FUCKING GOOO!" You just cheered, being able to be finally honest.

End notes: Maybe it's not any good, but I tried to cook up something a little different! I hope you've enjoyed this lil' drabble and stay tuned for new posts!