#my father loves making silly photos
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MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
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Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff
Length: 6600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby?
He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.
But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.
It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once.
"Are you nervous?" you asked.
Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."
He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."
He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."
Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."
Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."
"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.
You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."
"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes.
"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.
You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly.
"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."
He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."
Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."
Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"
Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."
"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room.
"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.
Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."
He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?
One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider.
"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."
"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor.
"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"
When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"
"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."
Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.
"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."
Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.
"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."
"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."
"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.
"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."
With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"
"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."
"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."
He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.
"I love you, too."
--------------------------
Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other.
"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time.
"Yes!"
She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat.
"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."
Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."
"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."
You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia.
"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.
"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."
"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him.
"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation.
"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly.
"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery.
"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face.
"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."
You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"
He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."
You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."
"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"
A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"
"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file.
"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip.
"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."
You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."
When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."
"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"
---------------------------
Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for.
Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"
"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers.
Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy."
A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back.
"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"
"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."
You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."
He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.
Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off, humming and sighing softly.
"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."
You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"
He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."
"I'm literally just standing here."
He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."
When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy.
He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."
You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."
He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."
"That's not old."
When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."
You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"
Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."
You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed.
"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."
"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."
He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."
He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"
"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.
"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."
He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"
Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child.
"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"
"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."
"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.
"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."
--------------------------
The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work.
"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.
He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."
Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.
"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."
He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."
You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."
You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."
You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.
"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."
After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did.
When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.
I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.
After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator.
"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."
She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly.
"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."
The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded.
"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.
-----------------------------
Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you.
"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea.
It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"
Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."
Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."
Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."
"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning.
"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket.
You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"
Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."
Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."
"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."
"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."
"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."
Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."
You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."
Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."
"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"
"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now.
"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"
"Yes."
---------------------------
As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee.
You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway.
"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.
Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."
"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly.
Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."
Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."
It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."
You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."
They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you.
You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.
You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island.
"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.
Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.
"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"
You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."
"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."
You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."
When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.
"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."
"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."
"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.
"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."
"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."
"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."
You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."
"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?"
"Yes, sir."
-------------------------------
Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 31
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
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@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
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@little-wiseone
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@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
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@horseslovers2016
@gennyanydots
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@hookslove1592
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@local-spidey
@schoollover
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@nicole01-23
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@mygyn
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#rooster bradshaw x female reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#always ever only you
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BABY TIME
🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)
🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst
☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !
a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)
☆KIM SEOKJIN
"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"
constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper
"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"
catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)
he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes
when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)
in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆MIN YOONGI
honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father
once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him
learning that your child also has a thing for music
absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up
has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing
(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)
made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir
cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆JUNG HOSEOK
always taking photos of your progress
"look here!"
he always tries to keep you active
massages all day everydayyy
you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him
absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby
it's obvious who the favorite is 😐
showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces
has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family
he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆KIM NAMJOON
songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)
maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date
he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice
when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing
loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of
you're so in love? help???
he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆PARK JIMIN
you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant
wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi
already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding
dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives
one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk
😐😑😐
teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆KIM TAEHYUNG
honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids
but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous
absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one
at this point, he'd also be another baby
"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"
you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby
2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste
yeontan and the baby being bestfriends
yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆JEON JUNGKOOK
he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure
so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue
he calls it "baby protection protocal"
surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)
absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live
3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste
baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool
baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it
baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭
#☆jeonitopia hcs#☆jeonitopia#bts x reader#kim seokjin x reader#kim namjoon x reader#min yoongi x reader#jung hoseok x reader#park jimin x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#bts headcanons#bts fluff#jungkook headcanons#jin headcanons#rm headcanons#rapmonster headcanons#namjoon headcanons#v headcanons#taehyung headcanons#jimin headcanons#jhope headcanons#hoseok headcanons#bts imagine
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Where I'm Supposed To Be, a husband!Javier Christmas fic
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Here’s my Christmas present for you all. I wrote this with blood, sweat and tears. I love you. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful opportunity to make myself, and everyone who reads my work, happy due to a silly, little, fictional family. Thanks to @javiscigarette and @joels-shitty-puns for being amazing and caring ❤️ and obviously thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being my sweet Spanish tutor 😭🙏
Summary: Just Christmas morning with the Peñas. Lots of chaotic and sweet children but also some alone time between you and your husband who very much has a present for you this morning.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, domestic life, three children being cute, unwrapping of gifts on Christmas morning, dancing to the radio, butterflies, being courted by javi, some rough pussy eating (javi is a cunning linguist and a fucking menace), nose riding, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praises and pet names, rough sex, kitchen sex, lactation kink, tit play, bit of breeding kink. creampie, they are gross and in love, absolutely married to each other
Word count: 7.1k!!!!!
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52364101
Where I’m Supposed To Be
Your eyes open wide as soon as you feel the weight of two children in your bed, and the realization of what day it is comes to mind. Since you are lying on your side, facing your husband, you watch the same shock settle in him as his own slumber is interrupted. Javier is lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow tightly, and when Inés starts jumping up and down at the foot of the bed, he shoots up to look around with a confused expression. You smile as he catches your eye. He yawns back at you.
“Wake up! Wake up!” Inés’ squeaky voice announces. She sounds out of breath from jumping continuously, “It’s Christmas!”
The whole bed shakes. Lucas has joined in on the jumping, a contrast to his usually so well-behaved and calm manner, but you remember the magic excitement that Christmas brought along when you were a kid yourself.
You yawn loudly to tease, turning onto your back. Inés barely survives the way you drag out waking up properly.
“Alright!” You sit up in bed with a little smile, letting your hands come down on top of the covers, “We’re up.”
“I’m not,” Javier grumbles into his pillow. Inés takes it as an opportunity to jump on her father’s back, sitting down on him with a knee on either side of his torso. You can hear the air being knocked from Javier’s lungs and can’t help but smile fully now, fighting a belly laugh as your insistent daughter starts tugging at his hair and shoulders.
“Come on, Mom!” Lucas begs too but without bordering on violence. He grabs at your hand to pull it, and you throw the covers to the side to let him lead you out of bed.
“I’m coming, mijo (my son),” you say and slip on a t-shirt that you have laid out the day before; there’s been a fair amount of Christmas mornings at this point but with Inés getting older, and thus more steadfast in her personality, you have resorted to creating a system that you hope neither of your kids has realized exists.
When Inés sees you out of bed, she quickly abandons her father at the realization of your willingness. Javier takes in a deep breath as he loses her weight on top of himself, imitating the sound of someone falling asleep again. You’ll let him for now; after all, he’s been the one up all night to arrange the presents so it looks like Santa came to visit.
“I have to check on Seb first,” you inform their hopeful faces. Inés groans and even Lucas looks like he might join in but you don’t give in to being rushed, simply shrugging, “If you are quiet, he won’t wake up and it’ll be quicker.”
You grab the baby monitor from your nightstand and then your kids follow you down the hallway of family photos to Sebastian’s nursery. Your baby is sleeping soundly when all three of you enter ever so quietly, a sign of contentment and feeling safe, and you don’t dare reach out to touch him in case he is disturbed from his sleep, even despite him being the easiest one of all three, so often off to dreamland that you have had Javier needing to reassure you.
You stare down at Sebastian for a few moments. He has his arms above his head, hands squeezed into fists and his little mouth slightly agape. You can feel yourself being overcome with emotion as both Lucas and Inés observe their little brother’s slumber with you, and with such understanding in their eyes that you wish you could take a picture of them. They have all of their hands clutched around the railing of the crib to peek down at the baby.
“Mom,” Lucas whispers without taking his eyes off Sebastian, “Can we please go see our presents?”
“Pleeeeease,” Inés follows.
“Okaaaay, let’s go,” you whisper back.
You leave the bedroom with the baby monitor in your hand and Inés hand clutched in your other, only to hold her in place in case she wants to run down the stairs.
Both your kids’ eyes go wide as they enter the living room. There are several differently sized and shaped presents underneath the lit-up Christmas tree, sporting extravagant bows and wrapping paper designs. You know that none of them are for you but you’ll relish in your children’s faces as they run towards the pile.
“Steady now,” you say as you place the baby monitor on the coffee table, “Everything has led up to this, I know, but we don’t want it to be over in a few minutes, do we? Let’s do one at a t—“
“But Santa’s been!” Inés shrieks in delight. Lucas looks at you, only seven years old and not convinced, and you wink at him only to receive a little smile. He looks pleased with himself, sharing a secret with his mother.
“Really? How do you know he has?” You say animatedly. It’s obvious, she tells you, look at the presents, but you distract her from ripping each of them open by walking up to gape at the empty plate and glass that are on the coffee table, gasping for show as if to imitate your daughter, “Inés! You’re right! Look!”
Inés whips around, darting towards you. She stares in shock. Lucas seems a little impatient, hovering around a big present that is for him, so you hold out your hand and call him over to look at the Santa-evidence too.
He walks around the coffee table to lean against you instead, and you rest a hand on the back of his neck. You gently run your fingers through his hair, whispering to him as Inés lifts the plate to look underneath it.
“You’re the best big brother, sweetie,” you mutter and repeat the move, smoothing his bed hair. He leans into you further.
“Look! All gone!” Inés parrots as she stares at the cookies that are nowhere to be found. Neither on or under the plate.
Lucas still doesn’t look very convinced. In the future, you’ll tell him about the sugary kiss his father planted on your cheek when crawling into bed after eating cookies and drinking milk at three in the morning - and his preteen self will crinkle his nose in disgust.
Speaking of your husband, Javier enters the living room silently so as to not disturb Inés’ hunt for clues. He has put on a t-shirt that hangs over his boxers, looking beautifully disheveled, and you smile like a schoolgirl when he looks at you happily.
“Is there anything else? Did he just leave behind all those great big presents?” You still talk excitedly, grinning as your daughter’s eyes scan the floor and ceiling.
She continues to the fireplace, pointing out the small amount of soot mixed with glitter that you’ve spread out on the wooden floor, “He’s been! Look, Mommy!”
“Wow!” Javier now chimes in. Inés recognises his voice instantly and she runs to her father the second that she hears him. Javier picks her up from the ground with the groan of a father to settle her on his hip. He kisses her cheek repeatedly until he blows a raspberry, “He did all that for you?”
Inés giggles like only a child can. You want to melt. She claps excitedly, “All for me.”
“You must’ve been very good this year, mija (my daughter),” he says, ruffling her already messy hair. She shies away from it but throws her arms around his neck as soon as he has stopped, burying her head in his shoulder.
Lucas shifts impatiently but he doesn’t say anything.
“You want to open a present?” You whisper to him.
“Can I?” He whispers back with wide eyes.
“They still have a few clues to go through, outside even,” you crouch down to kiss his cheek from behind, hugging him close to you, “If you want to, I’ll let you. I’ll choose though.”
In the background, Javier catches on. He places Inés back down on the floor, holding out his hand for her and winking at his son whilst talking to his daughter, “Do you want to see if Rudolph ate the carrots you laid out for him on the doorstep?”
Inés, completely ignoring the offered hand, starts running towards the front door whilst naming other reindeer too. It’s Texan Christmas, so there’s no point in putting on a jacket for going outside, and the sudden silence of the front door closing behind her and Javier makes you strike.
You let go of Lucas to get his present from under the tree, searching only briefly as if you’re choosing something random. There’s a point to this but you don’t want to take out the magic of the moment.
Lucas sits down on the floor as he is handed the gift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear its wrappings off, and when he throws it to the side, he gasps at the sight of his very own brand new Game Boy that you have wrapped along with a few games. It’s a strategic move to let him open it now; Inés won’t try to steal it in the middle of Christmas family time if she isn’t aware of him getting it.
“No way!” Lucas’ eyes are wide. He holds the Game Boy in its packaging in front of himself, not taking his eyes off of it in case it might disappear if he looks away, “Mom!”
“It’s the one you wanted, right?” You ask, rubbing his back and looking down at the cover over his shoulder, “Lord knows if I have a clue about what it does.”
“This is so cool,” he says, mostly to himself, and then looks up at you with a wide grin that reminds you that he is his father’s son, “Thanks, Mom!”
“But I need you to wait to use it till after Inés is done with her presents, okay? I know you’re excited but you’ll have the whole day, no?”
“Entiendo, (I understand),” he nods, getting up from the floor very carefully as he still has the Game Boy in his hands, “¿ Lo tengo que compartir? (do I have to share it?)
“You might have to share it sometimes but it’s yours first and foremost,” you say with a little smile, “I think Inés might just want to see you play and then you can let her try it a few times. If it’s too much, we’ll figure something out.”
Lucas hugs you then, tightly and lovingly. He buries his head in your stomach and he doesn’t have to say anything because you know exactly what he wants to say with his embrace. It’s enough to make you choke up a second time today.
When Javier and Inés return back inside the living room, Inés talking loudly, Javier gets a pair of scissors and a bag for the wrappings from the kitchen. You quickly add Lucas’ gift wrap to it to conceal any evidence of having started without Inés.
“Mom! Rudolph ate the carrots we laid out!” She beams.
“He didn’t!” You walk up to her to make it seem like you are listening even more actively. You lean down over her with your hands on your thighs, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you bend over, “Oh boy, I’m glad you remembered to feed them so Santa could reach all the kids without them getting tired and hungry.”
“Can we open presents now?” She inquires, falling to her knees in front of the Christmas tree. She looks back at you, suddenly very serious, “Are there any presents for Sebastian?”
“Yes, Sebastian has a few presents too,” you reply.
It takes her a moment to think this fact over. She furrows her brow in concentration, going over the logistics of an infant opening Christmas gifts. Eventually, she stares at you and places a hand on her chest, “I— I will open Sebastian’s presents.”
You want to laugh and in the background, Javier actually does, “You can help Lucas open the presents for him.”
Lucas sits on the floor beside Inés but closer to the tree. He seems less anxious to begin now that he’s had a head start on his little sister so he reaches under the tree to find a present with her name on it, checking in with his father who nods and lets him proceed.
Inés eyes go wide as the gift is put down on the floor in front of her, and Javier moves to help her with cutting the ribbon. You take a seat on the couch to watch the scene unfold, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement as receives her first Christmas gift; a stuffed toy resembling a dinosaur that she keeps tucked under her arm during the whole thing.
The rest of the unwrapping session goes with you letting out a series of oohs and aahs as each toy, which you have picked out yourself at the toy store, is revealed. It’s all a blur of plastic and noises, cries for batteries and Javier shushing his daughter when her pitch climbs a little too high.
Lucas is in charge of handing out gifts, and you praise him for each card that he reads out loud successfully. Whenever he tries reaching for a certain gift for Inés, Javier shakes his head, and he moves on to the next despite the curiosity nearly killing him.
Steadily, both Inés and Lucas each have a growing pile of toys, clothes, and snacks beside them.
Lucas receives, amongst other things, a pair of light-up shoes that he has begged for months to get. He also gets a wooden tow truck with four magnetic cars and an unbelievable stack of Pokemon cards.
Inés gets a few puzzles, markers, a microphone that makes an echo when you speak into it (a toy that might just disappear out of the blue with no explanation), and a collection of animal stickers.
Lucas looks overwhelmed by the end. Inés looks far from done, so she is the one who gets to unwrap Sebastian’s new mobile with small UFOs and cows on it, a pair of cute shoes, and a hat to match.
Finally, Lucas gets the green light from his father to grab the mysterious present. He looks like someone who wants to tear off the paper so he can satisfy his curiosity but Inés is already beating him to it. There’s an anticipation of it being the final stages of the unwrapping process that hangs in the air, and everything is going well until your daughter crinkles her nose at the sight of what she has received from Santa.
“Mom,” she starts to say, cogs turning in her head. She turns to you, looking skeptical. Inside the package is a helmet, more specifically a bike helmet, in a soft green color with daisies painted onto it in a pattern not too harsh on the eyes.
Lucas catches on a little quicker, “She’s getting a bike?!”
“A bike!” Inés yells out, standing up quickly, “Where? Wherewherewhere?”
“Inés, por favor (please),” you can’t help but laugh at her excited shock, “Let Papá get it for you.”
And moments later, Javier wheels a bike, so tiny that it is cute, into the living room. Its color matches the green on her new helmet, and on the handles hang white tassels with yellow flecks of glitter in them. The also has training wheels on it but with the amount of unrelenting bravery and determination that Inés has for new things, you doubt that she will be needing them for long.
Inés has gone quiet as she stares at her new bicycle which is very much not like the one without pedals she has. She gapes at it and it makes you and Javier exchange looks. Javier shrugs.
“Inés,” you start but you are interrupted by your daughter’s infectious laughter. She jumps on the spot, yanking at the handle and pulling it towards herself. You let out a sigh of relief, warmth flooding your heart at hearing her.
“I want to try it now!” She demands, giggling happily as she runs her hands through the tassels.
“We can do it after breakfast, Daddy will take you out for a test drive,” you say, getting up from the couch to crouch down beside her. You admire the bike with her, continuing your reasoning when she starts to protest, “One should never try to learn how to ride a bike without having breakfast. Not even the coolest girls can do that.”
“I can!” She argues. In the background, Lucas turns his back to the three of you to sneak a peek at his Game Boy.
“Actually, mija (my daughter),” Javier interjects. He opens the box containing the biking helmet, pulls it out, and walks over to his daughter, “Bike racers need to try out their helmets for at least an hour or two to break them in and to make sure they fit. Imagine if you got onto the bike and your helmet wouldn’t let you ride it.”
Inés furrows her brow but doesn’t look like she’s about to argue with her father’s logic. She glances at the bike and then at the helmet in Javier’s hands, quickly coming to a decision.
“I want to wear the helmet!” She says.
“Excellent choice,” he replies and you snort.
Inés proudly wears the helmet a few seconds later. You wonder how you are going to get her dressed for going outside with it on her head but you suppose you’ll pass the task to Javier.
“Wait,” Lucas says suddenly, crawling underneath the tree to reach far underneath it. A small present rests along the foot of the tree, and he pulls it out only to find that there’s no card on it. He furrows his brow, “There’s one left.”
Inés looks nearly hungry for more.
Javier turns, obviously not expecting this.
“Actually,” you say and make Lucas hand it over. Holding the gift close to your chest, you walk up to Javier, “This one is for Daddy.”
“Me?” Javier looks puzzled but then he smirks, as if he has decided something that you aren’t a part of yet. You feel your heart skip a beat as all three of you catch onto the mischief in his eyes. If only you knew that mischief is just for you. He snatches the present from you and shakes it.
“It’s just something silly,” you say, “But it’s for work!”
Inés and Lucas are watching curiously, standing on their toes so they don’t miss anything.
“Rip it, Dad,” Lucas encourages.
“Yeah!” Inés chimes in, holding onto her helmet as she tips her head. You’ll have to adjust it.
“Alright, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” he does as he is told, letting the wrapping paper fall into a pile on the floor, beside the garbage bag that he has brought himself, and reveals a hideous, rolled-up tie with a Christmas theme. It is dark red with tiny cartoon Christmas lights and trees, crisscrossing across the silky fabric. It’s ugly, for sure, but it makes Javier’s face light up like he can’t quite believe that he has reached this destination; a life of kids and silly Christmas presents, and exactly where he is supposed to be.
“That’s boring!” Inés complains.
“Mija (My daughter), that’s not very nice,” Javi tuts, smoothing a thumb over his present. He grins boyishly at you, and when he approaches you, he wraps an arm around your waist to give you a squeeze, “I love it.”
“You don’t have to wear it,” you reassure.
“I might just. The guys know I’m happily married to a catch like you so why shouldn’t I show it off?” He holds it up in front of himself, “How do I look?”
“Silly,” Inés argues. Lucas grimaces behind her.
You raise a brow, biting your lower lip as you grin, “You wouldn’t.”
“Sí. Gracias, mi amor (yes. Thank you, my love),” he kisses you in front of your kids, and both of them make disgusted faces. Inés even adds a gagging noise, saying something about cooties.
Javier doesn’t let go of you when he turns his head towards them. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “Hey, you behave or I might do it again.”
“No!” They shout in unison.
“I should’ve gotten you something,” Javier says as he turns towards you again. You shake your head but then you feel his hand on your back travel down, “Maybe later.”
Quickly, you pull back.
“Right,” you say, clasping your hands together and trying not to sound flustered, “Let’s say two hours tops. Then we’ll have breakfast together. Hot chocolate and all.”
When the gift rush comes to an end, Javier starts carrying all of the shiny new toys upstairs with a groan. He scolds gently as he has two tiny and enthusiastic humans bounding up the stairs, telling them to be careful.
Meanwhile, you head to the kitchen and turn on the radio. You place the baby monitor on the counter, humming along as you prepare a sugary breakfast that you always regret afterward when you have to endure two sugar-high children.
As you are toasting bread and filling bowls with candy canes and marshmallows, Javier enters the kitchen. You smile to yourself as he wraps his arms around you from behind, placing a kiss on your neck, “Morning. I put a movie on, so they’ll be occupied by that and their presents for a while now. Checked on Seb too, he’s fine.”
“That went well,” you say genuinely, “Don’t you think?”
“Mhm, the unwrapping? Definitely,” he murmurs against your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder, “They didn’t even notice how I was staring at you.”
“How were you staring at me?” You ask, your heart fluttering in your chest.
“No particular way,” he teases and you try to concentrate on cutting fruit into smaller pieces.
In the background, a slow melody hums through the kitchen. Javier’s hands wander down to settle on your hips, and you finally allow yourself to let go of the knife, give in, and turn around in his arms.
“Merry Christmas,” you smile.
“Dance with me,” he replies.
You walk further into his embrace, linking your arm around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. He entwines your fingers and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb as he sways with you in time with the song on the radio.
As he moves you, your heads lean together, cheeks touching gently, and he radiates warmth and security. It makes you close your eyes and sigh softly, allowing yourself to be transported into a fantasy where you aren’t just wearing your underwear and a washed-out t-shirt.
The hand that isn’t holding yours rests on your lower back, pulling you in after he twirls you once. You giggle when he beams at you but then you resume the first position, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, slowly turning, whilst Javier’s mouth rests just below your temple.
And then you feel his nose brush against the side of your face as if he is starting to pull away, and a desperate voice inside of you wants to protest but the logical one tells you to go with the flow. The tip of his nose is warm even against your flushing skin, and by instinct, you pull away slightly to admire the gorgeous curve of it up close. Javier interrupts by kissing you instead. He captures your lips in the most drawn-out hot kiss, pouring with desire and devotion.
“Tell me you love me like I love you,” you plea breathlessly.
“I love you like you love me,” he tells you without hesitation, squeezing your hand, “Y les quiero a Lucas y Inés y Sebastian (and I love Lucas and Inés and Sebastian).”
You respond by kissing him again, just about to slide your tongue across his lips and into his mouth when the song ends.
He reluctantly lets go of you. However, instead of helping you cook breakfast, he starts moving things from one side of the kitchen table to the other; out of your reach.
“Javi, what are you doing?” You start to protest.
“Let’s make another,” he suddenly says.
“Another?” You furrow your brow in confusion.
“A fourth one,” he explains as he stands in front of you, making you bump into the counter, “Un bebito (a little baby). Right now.”
“Jesus, Javi,” you can feel his fingers dig into the waistband of your underwear. Blood goes to your core incredibly fast, “Sebastian is four months old.”
“If we start trying now…” His fingers start dragging the fabric down over your ass and thighs, “We’ll have one by next Christmas.”
“We can’t go at it right here,” you scold but don’t try to stop him. Instead, you step out of your underwear as they pool around your feet.
“I told you,” he reminds you, already sinking to his knees with a self-satisfied look on his face, “That I put on a movie. They won’t even hear you.”
You lean your ass against the counter and then dare to hook a leg over his shoulder whilst balancing on the other. One hand grips the edge of the counter and the other rests on top of his hair, fingers threading through it as you wait patiently for him to put his mouth on you.
“This your present then?” You tease him, yanking to make him look up at you.
“I think we’re both getting too much out of it to call it your present,” he points out. His eyes go down to stare right between your thighs and you find yourself clenching around nothing as arousal threatens to drip down your thighs, “Joder (fuck), look at you. Can I have it now?”
“Y-yeah,” you stutter. Your teasing has ceased after hearing him swear from just watching your quivering pussy. You swallow thickly, a breath hitching in your throat as Javier’s hand slides up the back of the leg you are standing on until it rests on the back of your thigh. He squeezes and you hold your breath, “Please.”
He looks up at you through his lashes, no mischief to be found but rather absolute worship, as he closes his mouth around you, velvety tongue sliding between your folds to lap at your clit. You tighten the grip on his hair as heat flows through your lower body, your mouth falling open in a soft gasp.
“I can’t stand still,” you half-laugh whilst he eats you. Each pulse of your heart can be felt in your clit, which he sucks and laps at until you can’t breathe. He knows how to make you come so fast that blood drains from your head to your cunt and thighs and makes you keen.
“Then don’t, mi amor (my love),” he says matter-of-factly as he pulls back to breathe, hair a mess and chin shiny with your slick, “Fuck yourself onto me, Momma, I know you love that.”
You instantly curl your toes at the suggestion. Javier dives back in, lowers his head slightly to tease your slit with the tip of his filthy tongue. God, the way he can roll those Rs, calling you his love in his mother tongue, translates so well into this. Coming on his face from your own doing? Yes, that’s exactly what you want.
Without thinking it over much more, you tighten the leg that you slung over Javier’s shoulder earlier around him. With a hand in his hair and the other one tightly around the edge of the kitchen table, you move until Javier’s tongue is sliding inside of you and his nose catches your clit. It sends pleasure rocking down your spine, your pulse spiking instantly as you start working yourself toward orgasm.
“Fuck,” you groan while moving on him, rolling your hips. Your balance is off like this but Javier slides the hand on your thigh up to splay his palm across your side. You lean your body’s weight into his hand and use the support to press harder into his nose, feeling the flutters of an orgasm approaching as the curve of it slides up and down your clit just as you would do it if you were touching yourself, “I’m gonna- ah, gonna come. Fuck, you make me come so hard! Ah–”
Javier makes a satisfied noise against you, stiffening his tongue to let you use it even more. You don’t even need to have him speaking, know that he would tell you to give it to me, and when you finally tip over the edge, you feel him pulling your hand from the kitchen table to entwine your fingers.
“Fuck, Javi, fuckfuckfuck, baby, don’t stop,” you pant, squeezing his hand so hard that a fleeting thought makes you worry if you might break bone. You ride his tongue, his nose, and come so hard that you make him whimper as you pull at his hair.
He doesn’t let you go when it dies down. Instead, he slowly rises from the floor and lifts you along with him due to your leg still being slung over his shoulder and back. His mouth doesn’t leave you, even when he falters briefly, as he settles you down on the counter.
You want to scream but even a movie cannot drown out the noise building in your throat, so you cover your mouth with your free hand. Something besides you falls over, you knock your head into the kitchen cabinets and whereas Javier would’ve checked in on you, he eats your cunt so enthusiastically that you can feel your body wanting to come again.
The whine you let out is sinful with how much you struggle to muffle it. You reach for Javier’s hair but he catches your wrist and pins it down against the tabletop. When you try to reach for it again, this time with your other hand, he does the same until you can’t take the slightest bit of control.
He makes you come again in less than a minute. It is earth-shattering, causing you to throw your head back and bump it into the cabinet once more. You thrash and cry, burning with pleasure as he hollows his cheeks from sucking your clit.
You start giggling from the dopamine, knowing it’s a better way to get out noise than crying for him. Your legs twitch as he devours the wetness you spill into his mouth.
Finally, he removes his mouth from your sticky mess of a cunt and kisses up under your loose t-shirt until you can’t see his face anymore. He smears your slick across your belly, resting his head just above your belly button, and chuckles.
“You’re so,” you begin but you don’t know how to finish the sentence. He lets you move your hands again and you proceed to pet the top of his head through the fabric of your shirt.
“Sexy? Devoted? ¿Loco por ti (crazy about you)?” His breathing is uneven.
“I was going to call you a goof,” you correct him, lifting the shirt up to reveal him again. When he lifts his head to roll his eyes at you, you use the hem of your shirt to wipe his mouth and thus make him grimace.
“What a mom-move,” he teases.
“Shut up,” you laugh.
“I did mean it,” he adds, stretching and placing a palm on the counter on either side of your body, “I’ll cut down on work. I’ll be home more with you and the kids. Just until everything falls into place. We could get a babysitter.”
“Javi—“
“I think it could work,” he interrupts, “And if we want any more - kids, I mean - I feel like we should do it now and not wait.”
“Javi,” you reach up to cup his face gently. There’s no need for this conversation now, and there’s no doubt that you want to give him many more children if he wants. Technicalities can be discussed further down the road, and Inés is somewhat already counting for two kids so how should you not be able to handle a fourth? You kiss his lips, keeping your noses touching when you pull back again, “Just fuck me, baby. We can talk about it later.”
“Right,” he blinks his puppy eyes away.
You hungrily watch him pull his cock free from his boxers before stepping between your legs which you wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and moving yourself forward to the edge of the kitchen table. You are itching to feel him inside of you, your body feeling like it is missing something after going this long since you started to feel turned on.
“Please,” you whine.
“Relax,” he orders simply as he aligns his hips with yours. The sweet voice from before is gone and there’s no doubt that he’ll start speaking filth soon. You obey and go back to leaning against the cabinets, eyes half-lidded with lust as he runs the head of his cock through your folds in a way that has you whimpering with how sensitive you are.
When you get impatient, you reach down to guide the tip where you want it and shudder as he dips inside of you. He holds your gaze but as you want to look down at where the two of you are connected, he reaches for your chin with a shaky hand. You pant, eyes looking up as he forces your head up again.
“That’s it,” he praises, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger while moving forward and pushing into you. Your brows furrow at the stretch of your sensitive cunt but you still manage to hold his gaze despite wanting to close your eyes, and it earns you another praise, “Good girl, thaaat’s it, you focus on me, focus right here.”
When you smile sweetly at his words, he starts moving inside of you. The first roll of his hips makes your mind go blank and your noises climb in pitch. He fucks you against the counter, broad hands sliding up the back of your thighs to rest against the small of your back. It’s relentless, it’s desperate and it’s incredibly hot.
You settle your hands on his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts hard enough to make your touching skin smack with each movement. You look up at the ceiling briefly, wondering if the moans you are letting out can be heard by your kids because Javier’s cock is hitting something inside of you that makes you want to sob.
“El ruido (the noise)— shit, d-don’t worry about it,” Javier notices your mind drifting to concern, and so he slows down slightly to catch your attention. He kisses your lips between each word and drinks each noise you make from your mouth, “You sound so beautiful for me, amor. Forget about them, they’re fine.”
You nod repeatedly, whining feeble okays when he goes back to the harder thrusts from before, making you grab at his muscles until it’s not enough anymore and you have to dig your nails into them. His harshness makes your full tits bounce underneath the t-shirt too, and you let them until you know what’s coming; the happy chemicals in your body provoke it so often this time around.
You cover your breasts with your palms and squeeze until you feel your pussy flutter, somehow creating a direct line to your pulsing, untouched clit. You follow it up by tugging slightly on your nipples too, all the while you repeat Javier’s name as if to get his attention, as if to say it in prayer. His gaze drops and his eyes nearly roll back into his skull as you start soaking through your shirt with milk.
“You filthy girl,” he growls, “Pull it up for me. Lemme see.”
“Fuck, I— I think I’m close,” you half-moan and half-giggle, yanking your t-shirt up and watching the steady trickle of your milk. The way that Javier watches makes your cunt want to pull him in further but you don’t think he can go any deeper, so instead you hold him tightly with your legs so he can only grind roughly into you.
Your stomach flips as Javier’s expert tongue laps at a trail of milk. He sucks along the streak it has already made until he can close his lips, swollen from kisses, around your nipple. When he sucks, you almost cry for your maker and you swear that you can hear how much wetter you get.
“Where was this for my cookies last night, huh, Momma?” He asks with milk-stained lips and a smirk, cock touching inside of you just how you want it.
“You’re so - fuck, baby, I’m gonna come soon - you’re so gross,” your eyes close, your belly tightens and so you concentrate to get there, “What wouldn’t Santa think? Cookies and breast milk?”
Javier laughs genuinely at that and you moan at the feeling of him being inside of you whilst doing it. He shifts so that his hands end up flat against the counter, underneath your knees, and he can lean into you further, “Watch it. Maybe Santa’s a kinky fucker like your husband.”
“My husband,” you repeat as if it’s turning you on just to refer to him like that. Even after years.
“Fuck yes, I’m your husband. Wife,” Javier aims to kiss you hard but the strain on his body to make you come makes him press his lips to your jaw. He continues upwards, mouthing along your chin and cheek. He speaks with ragged breath into the corner of your open mouth.
“Listen to you,” he pants as you reel with pleasure, sweat collecting at his brow. He is concentrating too but he still manages to tease, “Who are you making those pretty noises for?”
“Para tí (for you),” you moan with furrowed eyebrows, “Sólo para tí, Javi (only for you, Javi).”
“I know— fuck, I know, baby, oh fuck, I can feel you,” he gasps as you clench around him without warning. Everything snaps and then launches into overwhelming spasms that overtake your whole lower body, clenching and unclenching in waves of pleasure. You sob as you come a third time this morning, arms falling to the counter and thighs trembling as you ride it out.
Javier looks like he is in awe as he always does. His pace picks up to near his own peak, and he kisses your mouth before going down your chin, neck, and shoulder, “You’re going to be the death of me, mi amor. You and this pretty pussy… So good at taking my come and making me a Papá.”
You can only cry feebly as he drives his cock in and out of you. The sound sends him into a frenzy, and he makes you whimper at the feeling of him coming inside of your cunt. He twitches with oversensitivity and pulses with each spurt of his warm seed, his breath is shaky and his forehead is against yours. His skin is burning hot, flushing with the way that his heart is hammering in his chest as he contorts his face with a groan of pleasure. It goes on for a moment until he slumps, head falling to your shoulder instead.
Javier chuckles against the damp and hot skin of your neck from dopamine, pressing a long open-mouthed kiss to it and glancing down at your chest that still heaves for breath. Your gray shirt still sits above your tits and it clings to your body from how it’s been soaked through by your milk. Javier reaches out to circle a flushed nipple with the pad of his thumb, causing your body to shiver.
“Stop,” you moan through post-coital bliss, not able to do much but rest against the kitchen cabinets. It almost feels like you want to cry in his arms, “Too sensitive.”
Javier removes his hand, “Sorry, mi vida (my life). You okay?”
“Mejoramos cada vez, ¿no? (We get better each time, no?)” You smile lazily.
He hums in response, agreeing. With his palms flat on the counter, he catches your mouth in a long kiss and you reach up to cup the back of his head. The hair there is sweaty, creating a patch on his shirt right around his neck.
You want to drown in him, not letting him pull all the way back when he breaks the kiss for air. He rests his nose against your cheek and exhales deeply, “We can’t stay here forever. I gotta fucking sit down too.”
“I need to finish breakfast,” you mumble with your eyes closed as if you’re in the state of being able to do that.
“What you need is a shower,” Javier laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth. He sighs deeply as he stretches to his full height, stepping away from you to let you jump down, “I’ll finish up here. Disinfect the counter, maybe. Then I’ll shower after you.”
You look at the clock on the kitchen wall before hopping down, “We have a little more than an hour.”
“Think we can manage,” he shrugs.
You put on the underwear that Javier discarded you of earlier, snapping the elastic as you pull them up over your hips. Javier grins at you, not hiding the way that he is eyeing you up as he puts on his own underwear.
“Wash your hands too, yes?” You tease, leaving him in the kitchen to watch your ass when your back is turned.
“Yes, Mom,” he calls after you.
You try to ignore the feeling of come dripping into your panties as you walk up the stairs, grimacing to yourself and quickly throwing them in the wash along with your shirt when you get into the bathroom.
The shower spray feels amazing against your skin but nothing feels as good as when you hear Javier talking to Sebastian further down the hall as he gets him out of bed. Even better when you hear him burst the door open to the kids’ playroom, Inés giggling and Lucas following behind as he makes a remark about them being up to something.
“Who wants to help me and Sebastian make pancakes?” Javier asks. When you close your eyes, you can see Inés and Lucas’ hands shoot up and then you hurry to finish so you can join them as soon as possible. You’ve never given it any real thought but you find that you, too, are exactly where you’re supposed to be.
.
.
.
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Illicit- 4
Heyyyy my loves! Here is part 4 of Illicit and a better look into Harry's behavior without Y/N... not a nice man but he's OUR man <3
Check out our Patreon where we have exclusive writings and early access to the next 2/3 parts of Illicit!
Series Masterlist
Wc- 3.3k
warnings- asshole h, infidelity, slight violence, paparazzi
---------
Harry was reaching a boiling point.
Katherine had stolen him away from Y/N for the night, under the guise her father set as a business dinner. Said he had something to discuss with him at a new, up and coming restaurant that it was imperative that he came tonight. He had to peel himself away from Y/N who was curled on his couch with her laptop in her lap, doing a bit of clothing shopping while he leaned against her to help veto and approve on things she was on the fence about. He had been having a very good time being domestic this afternoon to be forced away was already pissing him the fuck off.
So to find a table clear of said man and just see his daughter there with a scheming beam on her face? It was the worst possible option. Of course, she assured him that her ‘daddy’ would be coming shortly, but by the time their entrees arrived, Harry was fairly certain of what was happening.
H: I need wine when I get home.
Y/N: Yeah.. someone sent me an article.
Harry’s stomach dropped when she sent the link, an article that must have only been published just a few moments ago. A photo of a preening Katherine across from him had been snuck. Thankfully his face was blank, ever so practiced. She was leaning across the table with a preen all over her face, the angle taken so you couldn’t see the third drink set out for her father who was mysteriously not there.
This had to be a set up. He wasn’t giving the image of the doting, in love boyfriend that Katherine wanted and she was obviously a bit more cunning than he had originally anticipated. He was beginning to piece things together again, and he was getting more furious by the minute.
The real anger stemmed from being taken away from one of the rarer nights he didn’t have work to check up on periodically, and he’d cleared it just for her. It was like she somehow knew how to piss him off out of some fucked up intuition. While Y/N had the owner's manual on how to make him happy, Katherine knew how to make him irrationally angry. Despite his asshole behavior he was still nice compared to the whole plethora of things he wanted to tell her.
He had no qualms about embarrassing her publicly. It’s where she had weakness. Her reputation.
H: I’m leaving in a moment. I have a theory about this. Brant Jr never showed up.
Y/N: Seriously????
H: Yes. What ice cream do you want me to pick up on my way home, my love?
Y/N: ……
Y/N: You’re good, H. Mint Choc pls <3
H: Anything for you. I’ll be home soon. Go get changed into something more comfortable.
Harry tucked his phone back in his pocket, turning to Katherine who had been watching him curiously. “So when are you going to admit you stole your father’s work phone and tricked me here?” He had waited until the waitress was in earshot. This was a story he wished would actually show up on TMZ. “Because I was having a very important evening and was torn away from people I had meticulously scheduled to come here and discuss ‘emergency business’ changes. I didn’t ask you to dinner because I didn’t have time for these silly things, and because I didn’t want to.” Harry tugged his wallet out. “You are childish. I knew that. But messing with important business shit because you’re trying to trick me into a dinner and planting one of your friends at another table to get some clicks for your weird fangirls living vicariously and extra money?” He pointed directly where he had found one of her friends, the redhead’s eyes widening as Harry caught her phone up and gave his stone cold glare. “My business isn’t a fucking game, Katherine. Wasting my time when I’m doing things because you’re throwing a childish tantrum because I can’t shower you in affection every hour of the day? What did we discuss last time?”
“Harry, darling, you’re being a bit loud-” Katherine chuckled nervously, eyes wide as she had been figured out. The waitress and tables close could clearly hear him. She hated negative attention and had been working at trying to market them as some sort of ‘it couple’, which wasn’t going to work for him anymore. He was growing tired of this scheme and really needed her to just end it so the contract could be over, null and void.
“I can be louder, if you want.” He said ruthlessly. “I can let all of your little friends know the image of our relationship you paint is a sham, that you try to make me out as someone who I never had been, and never will be for you. I am not in love with you, Katherine. I told you, if you wanted to date me that it would be on my terms. If that makes me an ‘asshole’” He sneered, “So be it. I’ve never lied about my stance in dating you. I let you prance around and use my name to get into clubs that your own last name is too irrelevant to get you into, I allow you to pose photographs of me though you know I despise it when you do, I allow you to use my yacht and I let you use my home in Los Angeles before I sold it to have one of those stupid influencer parties you love to post about although, I know you hate half of those girls.” He knew his voice was carrying, but he didn’t care. “You are the one hurting yourself by making this relationship out to be anything but it is. A means to an end.” For both of them, but she would know now just how onto her he’s been.
“I’ve let it go for a while. I’ve allowed you to do what made you feel better because if it kept you off of my back while I handled things on my own, I was fine.You even harassed my friends for the lake house keypad number, which is fucking pathetic.” it really was and Harry had been mad since then, but this was growing past a disrespect he was willing to accept. “ But you’re fucking with business now. I will not ever stand for it. If I say no, it means no. If I say not tonight, it means not tonight. If I say to stop calling, stop fucking calling me.” He let his voice seethe while his face remained mostly it’s usual cold sneer, throwing a few bills on the table. “Continue fucking with my business and see how that ends up. Your father could build up a company, and I can take it down just as fast.”
He stood up, righting his jacket as he watched her pale face, knowing he had just scared her. He didn’t care. Maybe there was something wrong with him, but he truly, to the bottom of his heart, didn’t care about her feelings. The one girl he cared about was waiting for her mint chocolate chip ice cream.
“Are- Are you threatening me?” She shriekd quietly, making Harry pause, calling their waitress all the way over.
“It’s not a threat, but a promise.” There was no questioning that he meant it. Looking towards the waitress, he handed her a generous tip and nodded, leaving the restaurant to find flashing cameras. One particular flash pissed him off, and catching Harry in a bad mood was not a good thing to do.
His hand shot out, grabbing the surely expensive to the man’s camera, and threw it forcefully onto the pavement. It shattered into little pieces, the lens crackling on the sidewalk and the plastic of the body falling into shards, his blank stare going from the broken beyond repair camera to the sputtering camera man. His face was tomato red while Harry’s jaw remained sharp and clenched, raising a brow in challenge.
“What the fuck! My fucking camera!” He bellowed. “I’m gonna sue the fuck out of you!”
Harry grabbed his business card out from his pocket, handing it to the man. “Reach out. It will be a pleasure to beat you in court.”
His car was in the lot, which he quickly got to and peeled out of the parking lot. He wasn’t even inside of the shop yet when he got a call from Y/N. Her contact photo brought a smile to his face, answering it as he briskly walked inside the automatic doors and grabbed a little basket.
“Hi, my love.” He murmured, making his way towards the back, knowing the exact brand she wanted from the freezer.
“Did you really break a camera?” Y/N squeaked into the phone. It made him laugh, not pausing in his expedition. She was still relatively new to his life and didn’t seem to google him like everyone else who met him. Even if it felt like she was meant to be with him forever, that their souls had always been familiar, she hadn’t seen much of that side of him yet.
“Yes.” He hummed. “Shoved it in my face, blinded me for a moment. I was already angry. The photographers know it's a risk when I’m involved, darling.” It was sort of his thing. If people got too close, hit him with it, intruded on his personal space, he was quick to rid himself of the problem. They were lucky he chose the camera and not the person behind it. Harry really didn’t care, and he knew some would label him as toxic or maybe even crazy, but it wasn’t something he cared about. His temper was notorious.
“Christ! H!” Y/N laughed in disbelief. “Hannah sent me an article. There’s a video circling social media. I haven’t watched it yet.”
“Good. Don’t, it’s a waste of time yeah? Told you I’m an open book for you, sweetheart. Can ask me any questions you’d like when I get back to you.” He tucked the phone between his shoulder and cheek, opening up the freezer door to grab their designated flavors. “Stay comfortable for me, I’m just about to check out and get home t’you. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” It was something Harry wished he could have happen every day. Going home to her. She was the centerpiece of his home now and her absence was palpable when he got home and she was at her own place or out and about.
They said their goodbyes and Harry found himself lost in his head as he used the self check out to pay for their sweets. He avoided most social interaction when he could because everyone always had a favor to ask him, a question, a dig. It was nice to be able to pay and avoid the pointless small talk with a cashier who usually didn’t give an actual shit, or someone who obviously gave far too much of one. His lone wolf lifestyle suited him just fine- but now Y/N fit into it. She wasn’t just anyone, her voice didn’t grate on his nerves, and he was in love with her. He figured adding another lone wolf to his life wouldn’t hurt- not when it was her.
—-
“Harry…” Y/N laughed, licking her spoon clean. “While I am most definitely proud of you for how quickly you can come up with comebacks and witty words, I’d prefer they not be needed at all.” Her smile faded, leaning further into him. The man had stripped himself of his suit and found his clothes after a quick shower, trying to rid himself of the disaster and waste of a night. Now he was going to be with the woman he had been looking forward to spending time with for the rest of the night.
“Unfortunately, s’part of the job.” His thumb rubbed over her shoulder as she leaned into the man, his neediness even more apparent when he’d plucked her up from her spot and sat down to settle her in his lap. “Paparazzi are, for some reason, something that still is a thing and they make a pretty penny on photos of me because I like to dodge them.” Harry was not the stereotype of a nepotism child. He did work for what was given to him but he was under no false pretenses. He knew that he was born into an almost impossible wealth, one that some of his peers had deluded themselves into thinking they could be anything. The so-called ‘self made’ millionaires as if they didn’t have billions to cushion their blow if they were to be shot down. He liked to hide away from the attention part of it the best he could, but sometimes appearing at things was a necessary evil.
“I know.” The angel in his lap grumbled. “I know it is but it still makes me irritated that you have to worry about it. That they’ve gotten so far in your face that you were even able to do that. It’s just rude and invading your privacy.” Her little pout did something to his formerly black, charred heart.
Y/N was his opposite in a good way. She was love and warmth and light and morals. Harry was cold, cruel, darkness. Iron compared to gold. If it were anyone else, he thinks he may be slightly annoyed by their cheerfulness, their optimism. Harry had seen a lot of the world and a lot of the bad sides of people, skeletons hidden in closets and the life of the elite. It was hard to be optimistic at times when he’d seen such hopelessness, but she managed to peel back some of the grimy layers in his dim outlook in life, his cynical snarks and soften the jagged edges just a bit. He wasn’t a changed man- no. He didn’t have rainbows out his ass, he wasn’t a warm being, but he held the new wick that was lit up in a dim glow when it came to her. He could be good to her. Thankfully Y/N wasn’t looking for more. She didn't want to change him.
“Oh, my love.” He sighed, his hand chilled from the ice cream coming up to her chin. “It’s alright. They’ll learn at some point. Besides… It isn’t a normal occurrence when I just go out, not normally. Katherine called them, I’m positive.” The mirth in his eyes returned at the reminder of the woman. “I’m going to call Brant tomorrow and let him know of the antics, but I’m going to threaten again. I don’t want to be under this contract anymore.” His voice quieted, looking at Y/N who dropped her eyes from his. His stomach twisted, knowing where her head went. “Hey, sweetness. Look at me.” He urged, trying to catch her eyes again. “You know that I’m looking for every way out, yeah? If I can’t use that, m’gonna move on to the next idea. It’s hard when I’m contract bound, but I’m going to make her break up with me.”
Honestly, he was surprised she hadn’t just from tonight. It had him suspicious of her. There was no way that her ego wasn’t bruised from his spiked tongue tonight. He’d made sure other people heard the verbal hits, made sure some of it would be sold to the same publication she was trying to make a few bucks off by planting her friends to take photos. There was a prayer in his mind that maybe that would move it on, make her give him up. Surely, she was someone’s dream trophy wife. Sure as fuck not his, but maybe someone else.
“I know. I just hate….” Y/N paused, giving her eyes back to him. “I hate that she makes you so miserable, but I’m glad that you hate her. I feel like an awful human being, but I just hate so much about her and It makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me.”
This was news to Harry, surprisingly enough to actually show on his face. She’d mentioned disliking Katherine before but to see her struggling with her hatred towards the woman who was trying to claim her boyfriend as hers in the public eye, it made him feel even more guilty. He didn’t want this for her, he didn’t want her upset- but he knew that it was his own fault.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N.” He said seriously. “I know that hatred isn’t something that your pretty heart feels a lot so m’sure it does feel a bit off but I promise you, it’s worth hating.” There was a pause, thumb squeezing her jaw slightly and watching as it popped open from the little trick. “If I had to see you out with someone else… I’d be murderous. If another man said you were his, I’d enjoy knocking every tooth from his skull.” His jaw tightened. There was no way. Every time he thought about it it made him ache, so he knew that it must be similar to her. Though he couldn’t imagine Y/N’s gentle soul to be murderous, she at the very least must be angry.
“Cool it, cowboy.” Y/N crooned, watching as his brain was visibly showing his thoughts on his face. “No one is coming to get me. I’m all yours.” It was like she was soothing a dragon. To be fair, Harry was pretty sure that if it could, smoke would be coming from his ears or his nose. Y/N could read him very well but to be honest, he did little to hide his emotions from her anymore. His girl was just good at knowing him, and he appreciated every moment of it. He couldnt lie and say that her insistence of being his didn’t please him- it absolutely did.
Harry had quite a few morally gray qualities and one was his possessiveness. Words like that, telling him that she was all his, it made him hard. Settled him in a primal, animalistic way and he wasn’t going to stop it. Y/N had been clued into it, knowing the exact right thing to sway his mood a different way. Knowing that the woman curled up to him thought of herself as his, that she was fully belonging to him and would be proud to be his as soon as they could be in the limelight. Harry would be equally as happy with people knowing he belonged to her, and he had no shame in labeling himself as so- but Y/N was playing into his weaknesses.
“You are, aren’t you? And I’m yours.” His voice dropped an octave, moving his hand down a little bit to cup the side of her neck. “No matter what she tries to play to the public, no matter the image shes trying to sell, I belong to you, sweetheart. Heart and soul. It’s all yours.” No truer words had been spoken. Harry was an honest man, most of the time, but this wasn’t something he would lie about. He wouldn’t declare his heart as hers if it wasn’t. “My messy little girl.” He swiped away a bit of ice cream from the corner of her lip with his free hand, bringing it to his mouth to suck it away, keeping her eyes on his. Her ice cream was melting in the tub in her hand, and Harry had a better idea on what too with it now.
“Let’s not talk about her anymore, my angel.” He suggested, gently moving her closer to him. “Why don’t you let me have my sweets now, yeah? Taste them off of you?”
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Arranged Marriage With Princebur
Princebur x Reader
Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D
Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.
Fic below cut!
When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.
The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?
“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”
My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”
“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”
Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.
“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”
~
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”
Lovely?
The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.
The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”
I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.
I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?
“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”
I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.
Maybe this won’t be too bad.
“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.
Nevermind.
“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.
The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”
~
I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.
‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’
‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’
‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’
I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.
My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.
“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”
“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”
In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.
My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.
“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”
My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.
“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”
“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’
Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.
~
“You may now kiss the bride!”
I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.
Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.
He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.
“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.
I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”
“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”
He’s sorry?
“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.
Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”
The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.
“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.
Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.
“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.
Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.
~
“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”
I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.
Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.
The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.
“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”
Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.
“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”
I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”
He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”
“Baby shoes and socks.”
“An evening gown.”
“A baby blanket.”
“Some cufflinks.”
“Baby clothes.”
Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”
“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”
His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”
“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”
Another awkward silence.
“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”
Something to d- oh. That.
I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.
~
The nightgown is certainly… something.
It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.
The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.
Now I see what she meant.
There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”
“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”
A solid 5 seconds of silence.
“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”
When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”
My face burns. “It is.”
“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.
The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.
I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”
~
Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.
I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.
Oh God, was I wrong.
There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.
I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.
The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.
I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.
“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”
~
I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.
“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”
The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”
Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.
He’s on my side.
“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.
The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”
“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”
She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”
The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”
I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”
Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”
Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”
“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”
I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.
“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”
He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”
Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”
“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”
Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”
~
“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”
He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”
“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.
“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”
I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”
Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”
“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”
He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”
Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”
“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”
We’re both silent for a few moments.
“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”
I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.
“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.
His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.
“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.
“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“
Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.
When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.
“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.
“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.
My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…
…And it snaps.
I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.
“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”
While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.
“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.
“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.
Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.
“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”
I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.
The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.
“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”
“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.
Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.
“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.
He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.
~
Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.
One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.
“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”
I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.
“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”
While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.
“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”
He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”
I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”
I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.
There’s no going back now.
~
We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.
His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”
All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.
The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.
Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.
I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.
“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”
“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”
He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.
The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.
My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.
~
“Wait!”
I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.
“Please, wait!”
It was Wilbur’s voice.
Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.
“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”
“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”
The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.
~
Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.
Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.
Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.
I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.
“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”
The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.
I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…
…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.
“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”
Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.
“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.
He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too.”
#princesswrites#wilbur soot#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot x you#wilbur x reader#mcyt x you#wilbur x you#princebur#wilbur angst#wilbur soot smut#bursona smut#wilbur smut#dsmp smut#mcyt angst#wilbur mcyt#mcyt x reader#mcyt smut#princessfics
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Can I request GP Photographer Wanda x Model Reader
The Phone Call
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Tony and Pepper x reader (Parents/child)
Word Count: 1976
Warnings: Smut, Wanda has a dick, pervert Wanda, phone sex, mommy kink, bottom!Wanda, guiding, handjobs, jerking off to photos, praise, degrading, punishments, edging,
No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!
Wanda had a love for taking photos, especially when you’d be the model. She loved seeing you pose with a silly face, and she loved making you dress up in cute little outfits. Whether it was a dress or skimpy lingerie, she adored staring at the pictures she had taken of you. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but admire the polaroids when you were gone. And sometimes, she couldn’t help but bring a hand into her pants.
You had left only three days ago on a small road trip to visit your family. Wanda had wanted to go, but her classes and schedule restricted her from doing so. Your family loved her and wanted to see her, but they understood the stress of college.
Wanda had a small box under her bed filled with small polaroids painted with your body. She ran the pad of her thumb over your gorgeous face, smiling to herself when glancing at your beauty. The next photo she grabbed was one of you in only her sweatshirt. It was large, restricting her from seeing the cute pink panties you wore that day. You were smiling whilst holding the ends of the fabric, it was one of her favorite photos of you. The innocence laced in you could only make her imagine the things she’d do to you. Your thighs were exposed, begging to be planted with marks and love bites. Oh, how she wanted to fuck your thighs more than anything.
The next polaroid she lurked upon was one of you wearing a pair of red panties and stockings. Your arm was covering your bra-less breasts as you sucked on a lollipop. You stood on your tiptoes and looked up at nothing, a sweet smile being hidden beneath the sugary treat. Images of you teasing her cock with your mouth filled her mind. The way you licked over the tip so gently as to barely graze it made her go feral. And when you’d take her down to the base, crying and gagging as your hand would massage her balls with the sweetest care, it ruined her.
She couldn’t stop. No matter how hard she tried to stop herself from going through the box, she just couldn’t help it.
You were finishing up dinner with your family, eating the remains of the dessert your mother had baked, and creating a small talk between you and your parents.
“So, Y/N, how’s Wanda?”
“I swear you guys love her more than me at this point.” The two chuckled humorously as you smiled gently, staring down at your food to avoid them seeing your reddened cheeks. It was crazy how she could make you blush from miles and miles away.
“She’s great, yeah. She actually is waiting on her results for her final before the break.” You filled your mouth up with the moist cake that earlier was coated in a ‘Happy Birthday Pepper’ and waited for their response.
“You guys planning on doing anything over break?” Your father asked, your mother nodding along with his words.
“Well, we both want to take time for ourselves but at the same time, we want to explore. If we were to travel, we were thinking Puerto Rico would be nice. It would be great for some pictures and definitely a nice place to visit.” You all continued on for another half an hour before you separated ways and started to walk into your childhood bedroom. The two of them were in their room doing god knows what when you got a call. You looked at the name and saw that it was Wanda. Excitedly picking up the phone, your smile soon got replaced with a look of confusion as you heard small groans on the other side.
“Wanda? Are you okay?” Hearing your voice only made her harder. Her hand was wrapped around her length, slowly stroking the shaft and lightly grazing her thumb over the pre-cum leaking tip.
“Fuck! Y-Y/N, please, it feels so good.” Whimpers left her cracked-open mouth as she expressed her needs to you, only leaving a smirk on your face.
“Wanda, are you touching yourself?” She nodded, only to then remember that you couldn’t see her. But you needed to, you needed to see the way her cock twitched in her hands from the thought of you.
“Wanda, why don’t you facetime me, let mommy help you out.” In a quick few seconds, the camera was being turned on as you got the notification that she was trying to video call. You accepted, being greeted with darkness until you saw her breathtaking face make its way onto your phone.
“My angel is so beautiful, isn’t she? My pretty girl, tell mommy how pretty you are.” She tried to speak, but the moan that left her lips cut her off. She knew she should’ve slowed down her pace, making it easier for her to not cum right away. But it was impossible when picturing it was your hand instead of hers.
“Baby, what did I say? Do you think mommy will be so nice to you if you don’t listen?”
“I’m sorry! Please let me be your good girl tonight, just wanna please you.” She whimpered out in fear and frustration. She tried to listen, she really did. But sometimes, all she wanted to do was be a little brat. She only thought at the moment, not caring about the punishment that she could receive later on.
“I’m your pretty girl, I’m mommy’s pretty girl!” You smiled at her through the camera, now being dressed in nothing but your panties. You rid her of seeing your bare chest, her favorite part of your entire body. She would worship your breasts all night long if she could. She had hundreds of pictures of your chest alone, she went through them all nearly every day.
“Yeah? You’re my girl? My princess?” She groaned in annoyance, watching as her pre-cum continued to drool down her awaiting cock. She wasn’t going to last long, her best bet was just to give in.
“All yours, mommy! I’m your girl, your princess. I’m yours to touch, to own, to fuck, all yours!” She swapped the camera around, letting you watch as her palm pumped her throbbing cock. Her thighs occasionally twitched upwards, her toned abs becoming visible as her chest went up and down due to her rapid breathing. Your breath hitched when hearing footsteps from outside of your old bedroom.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be quiet, okay?” She agreed in hopes you’d show her some gratitude for listening, even if deep down she knew you wouldn’t.
“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? What if they came in here and saw what you were doing for me? I don’t think they’d like you very much if they knew you’re slutting yourself out for their child in the room next to them.”
“God, keep talking to me like that, I’m gonna cum.” She set her phone down, holding the small piece of paper that was marked with your naked body close to her pulsing cock. In the photo, your mouth was split open, your eyes closed as drops of her juices painted your face. She remembers exactly how that night went. You were tired, sleeping as you waited for her to get home from work. She came home needy and woke you up, crying as you jerked her off slowly, not letting her finish until you said. You edged her over and over, only letting her cum when she was shaking and twitching. That night, you cockwarmed her as you slept. She tried to sleep just like you, but it was impossible with the way you clenched around her so tightly. You woke up to her release dripping out of you and a sleeping Wanda that you soon woke up to head.
“Darling? You still there?” Wanda hadn’t even realized that she was stuck in her head and missed what you said. You were sat with the phone in your hand, the other in your underwear, and toying with your clit. You weren’t going to let her cum until you did, it was one of your rules that she despised and loved at the same time. She loved making you finish more than anything, but she hated waiting when she was so close to tipping over the edge. You knew how desperate she always was, and you loved that dearly. And what you loved most of all, was knowing that it was all because of you.
“Y-yeah, I was just thinking.”
“About what, baby?” She contemplated telling you, worried you’d think she was a pervert for looking at your photos. Even though you knew all about them. But you wouldn’t tell her that, you liked knowing how gross she was for you. That she’d get hard just from looking at your photos.
“C’mon, Wanda, tell mommy what you’re thinking about.” You egged her on. She could feel herself falling into that headspace, the one only you could cause. Her mind would go fuzzy, any thought leaving her mind as all she could focus on was you and your angelic voice. You loved when she got like that, when she was so needy that she couldn’t even think without your help.
“Of you, I was thinking of you, mommy.” You hummed, clearly not satisfied with her answer.
“Yeah? What about me?” When she didn’t give an answer, you forced it out of her, threatening her with a punishment if she didn’t speak.
“No! No! Please, I’ll tell you.”
“Go on then, tell mommy what nasty thoughts are going through your pretty little head.” She took in a deep breath, preparing herself to hear the degrading words that would leave your mouth.
“I was thinking about- ah! Mommy, please!” She was so close, basically on the verge of cumming as you only mocked her desperate antics.
“Baby, you know I won’t let you cum if you don’t tell me all those sweet little thoughts.”
“Fuck! I was thinking about you, and about you sucking me off. The way you wrap your mouth around me and go all the way down. The way you gag and cry. The way you moan around me. The way you look at me and talk to me. God, it’s so hot, I can’t stop picturing it.” You circled your clit faster as you listened to her speak, making a mental note to exaggerate those actions the next time you’d be with her.
“You get mommy so wet, baby. Do you like knowing that? You like knowing that mommy is dripping just for you.” She whined out pathetically.
“Hmm, what a shame you aren’t here, I would’ve had you licking me up in no time.” She begged and begged for the next few minutes, hoping you’d finally let her cum. And you were getting so close to breaking.
“Shit! My God- please! Please, mommy, I’ll do anything. You can punish me, I don’t care, just please let me cum. Just this one time?”
“Do it, Wanda, cum for me.” The second you let out those words, she let herself go, spurts of her release coating her hand and lower stomach. She moaned louder than ever before, the picture that was still in her hand being covered in her juices. You let yourself finish with her, covering your mouth to hide any noises to make sure your parents wouldn’t hear. It was late, you didn’t want to wake them up to hearing your moans for someone who they thought was so sweet and innocent.
“Holy shit. The second I come home, I want you on your knees, naked, and waiting for me on the bed.” And with that, you hung up, leaving her with a slightly hardened cock and the perfect image of what was to come.
Taglist: @boredandneedfanfics @obsessedwithhereyes
#wanda x fem!reader#wanda imagine#wanda maximoff angst#wanda fanfic#wanda x y/n#mommy wanda#wanda my beloved#wanda maximilf#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda smut#wanda marvel#wanda x reader smut#wanda x you#wanda x gn!reader#wanda x gender neutral reader
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What would it be like for Reader if all of team 7 was yandere for them? Can be ninja or civilian, either way
Yandere Team 7
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug
Warnings: Platonic & non platonic yanderes, possessive tendencies, obsessive tendencies, slight degradation, future wife ideals, ass slapping, power play
Note: Just pretend that you’ve replaced Sakura.
Checkout my Master List here.
—————————————————————————
The Leader: Kakashi Hatake
He’s going to be constantly keeping an eye on you.
You’ll be lucky if he even lets you fight during missions.
Anytime he thinks you’re putting yourself in the slightest bit of danger, you can expect to immediately be reprimanded. You barely know what’s going on half the time. You once got in trouble with him just for saving a dog who got caught in a strong current in the river. Man, did he give you a tongue lashing for that.
He treats you with kid gloves because he loves you and sees himself as more of your father-figure than your sensei.
He picks up treats for you and only you.
In his room, there’s the Team 7 photo of you, Naruto, Sasuke, and him in his room, there’s the one of his original team with Minato, Rin, and Obito, and then there’s a photo next to it of just the two of you. You’re making a silly face, and he has an arm slung around your shoulders. It’s cute, and it’s his favorite photo.
You told Kakashi it was your dream to be part of the Anbu, and he scoffed at you and literally said, “Over my dead body.”
The Mouth: Naruto Uzumaki
It wasn’t exactly hard for Naruto to fall for you. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to him.
You actually treat him like he’s a person. You treat him with respect, and you don’t have any idea what that means to him.
He has pictures of you all over his apartment. Some of them are just the two of you, a lot of them are just you.
Naruto sees himself marrying you one day. He can’t wait for that day to come.
He’s always complimenting you. He gushes about how pretty, smart, and powerful you are.
He knows it’s your dream to be an Anbu member, and while he really doesn’t like how dangerous that sounds, he encourages you to follow your heart. (He can always just show up in case something goes wrong).
The Muscle: Sasuke Uchiha
It was very hard for Sasuke to fall for you.
You had to be very special for Sasuke to even regard you for longer than half a second.
You’re the type of girl who doesn’t fawn over him like he’s used to. You’re more focused on trying to climb the ranks as a ninja.
Sasuke slaps your ass when nobody is looking (especially Kakashi). Your ass was made for his hands.
“Did you just smack my ass, Sasuke?”
“Yeah, I did. What are you gonna do about it?”
And you do nothing because you can do nothing. 😭
Sasuke can’t see you becoming an Anbu member. It doesn’t matter how powerful you think you are. He doesn’t have to worry about you becoming an Anbu member because he can’t see them taking you on. You can barely hold up your own against him in training. You really think they’re gonna take you in?
He’s still condescending to you. He loves to tease you, likes to make himself feel above you. He puts you in your place and makes sure you stay there.
———
Now for the conflict. All of them are Yandere for you. Of course, Kakashi’s love for you is purely platonic. However, he doesn’t like how Naruto and Sasuke have the hots for you. You’re like his little girl, you are his little girl, and you’ll always be his little girl.
You feel conflicted, like you have to choose between Naruto and Sasuke.
Naruto and Sasuke are always trying to compete against each other for you, and it always leads to a physical brawl that Kakashi has to break up.
Nothing ever goes accordingly for you. All of your Anbu applications are always disappearing or being denied. This makes you really sad because you feel like your dream will never come true.
At the end of the day, at least you have your team to fall back on.
#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere themes#triggering content#triggering themes#platonic yandere#platonic yandere father#yandere kakashi hatake#yandere naruto uzumaki#yandere sasuke uchiha#kakashi hatake#naruto uzumaki#sasuke uchiha#naruto shippuden#yandere naruto shippuden
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cillian murphy and his ‘daughter-figure’
a/n: i can never make myself write for people in real life with a romantic interest, sorry 😩 but i won’t deny to reading allat. no proof reads :)
enjoy!
cillian had taken you under his wings (awh) a long, long time ago
thankfully, christopher nolan approve of your acting and accepted you for a movie, allowing you to meet him for the first time
becoming the youngest constant actress to be featured in nolan’s multiverse
several years later, you are, once again, walking on the red carpet with your on screen ‘father figure’
oppenhiemer ofc
walking along the red carpet, camera flashed at you and your drop-dead gorgeous outfit for the event. making sure to look around to catch every news headlines, you see flo and emily waving at you. wasting no time, you rushed to your favorite girlies.
“hii,” flo and emily enveloped you into her embraces and kisses.
“my darling, y/n, how’ve you been?”
giggling about the latest girl talk, complimenting flo on her haircut and outfit, and a little bit sprinkle of girls touch up, a third hand wrapped around your shoulders and you turned around to see those set of blue eyes.
“cill!”
“hello, darling,” without a second thought, cillian smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. not too tight but not too insecure, just the perfect spot.
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yourinsta thank you. xoxo
cillian is just a sweet soul in general
he could get protective if you were rubbed off in a wrong way
if the interviewer ask weird questions, he won’t hesitate to throw hands
he also loves going out with you just for bonding purposes
movies, restaurants, or just going out with his kids
his wife definitely adores you
his kids definitely see you as their sister
a 100 percent some photo booths sessions with him
“ok, pose now!” you looked at the camera while making a serious face, which cillian mirrored. a funny face and a silly face precedes.
“how do you click this ancient photobooth? cill!”
liked by ynnumberonefan, florencepugh, and others
yourinsta thanks for paying for mi lunch ;)
jessepas NO WAY y/n convinced cillian to do photo booths with her
kanHK trust me! cillian def convinced her 😭
gagahi imagine getting your lunch payed by emily, rdj, cillian, matt, and JOHN?
ynwifie Y/N pleaseeee i can pay for your lunchhh
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you are feeding cillian fans with post and pictures. (come on, we are starving)
dancing to tiktoks with cillian in the background smiling <3
you can never do interviews with cillian and never laugh
it. is. impossible.
he’s just very funny in private and ‘the’ dead face humor
“three, two, one, rolling!”
“hello- cillian,” chuckling as you see cillian staring off into the distance again.
“oh- hello,” he smiled. “i am cillian murphy.”
“and i am y/n l/n, and we are here for…”
what is your favorite scene with cillian?
“are we talking about oppenheimer or just everything?” you chuckled and took a swift glance at cillian who was grinning at you.
“just in anything, anything that comes to your mind”
“wow…” poking your tongue a little bit out while you were thinking. “i…don’t know…not- not because i don’t have one but it is a journey back, you know?” smiling at the interviewer.
“we take a long way back,” cillian added while he looked over to you. “i remember meeting her when she was just a little kid in the batman trilogy.”
“i- i was young, yes,” letting out a soft laugh, you thought again.
“um…I honestly don’t know which one to pick,” you chuckled. “i’ll say my favorite one is in inception, it just amazes me how cillian delivers his emotional, tear-jerking scenes, and we got to do a lot of amazing, humorous stunts.”
“cillian doesn’t take compliments very well, does he?”
the comment made you look over to your fellow actor and saw him smiling at you and shaking his head. you laughed and adjusted your position in the chair, “irish people doesn’t take it very well, he will just turn invisible if you keep complimenting him.”
are you going to go watch barbie?
cillian smiled and glanced slowly at you, “ask her.”
“a 100% will do. as a matter of fact, i already went to watch it,” you said proudly and giggled.
“oh really? how was it?”
“it was really, really good. i wasn’t expecting to cry but…you can ask him,” you pointed at cillian who couldn’t hold his chuckle in any longer.
“so you two went to watch it together? wow-”
“yes,” cillian smiled sheepishly. “a lovely movie, made y/n cried, very touching,” cillian chuckled.
“no spoilers but- the ending scene was super tear jerking but the end credits made me confused whether I should laugh or cry,” you laughed at your memories of going to watch barbie with cillian.
what do you have each other on the phone as?
“this is going to be so embarrassing,” you fake groaned and chuckled, while digging for your phone in your dress.
“also girls, this dress has pockets. amazing,” cillian and the interviewer gained a few chuckles. you fished out your phone and unlocking it with a few swipes, and opened the contact app, scrolling to the ‘c’ sections.
“i…have him as ‘cilly shelby’,” cillian went wide eyes and look at the screen of your phone.
cillian grinned and leaned back on his chair, “i saved her as y/n and a smiley face emoji.”
“aw what? that is so nice, i feel so bad now”
one thing about the person next to you?
“cillian, cillian, cillian. i would say he is very caring and an astonishing actor, performer,” you says while putting your hands to your heart.
“no- you are”
“irish modesty, people,” you faked rolled your eyes at him, while mockingly patting him.
“he’s great, just a very supportive…i wouldn’t say brother but i don’t wanna say father figure as well, even though we played a lot of father-daughter roles together,” you laughed at your own response, fixing your hair.
biting your lips, you pondered, “ah, i would say an…‘uncle figure’.”
“what?” cillian chuckled
“it’s someone you can have fun with and someone who you can look after to, for me,” you smiled while cillian cooed his response and gave you a side hug.
“that was very sweet,” he smiled. “i would say y/n is very sweet and brave soul, just someone who you meet and brightens your day.”
cillian cleared his throat and switched his crossing leg, “well, i have two boys but bonding with her will always be special to me, like the daughter i never had.”
“thank you christopher nolan for giving me a daughter,” he chuckled and gave you another side hug.
“aw, i’m going to cry”
last but definitely not the least. a random question from the audience, what is the hottest thing a man can wear?
laughters filled the room, rolling back in your chair, “wow, that was random.”
“i know right?” the interviewer chuckles and wiped a fake tears.
“i think we should ask the man,” you pointed your fingers at cillian and he shifted in his chair.
“wow…that really caught me off-guard,” cillian cleared his throat. “i would say a nice suit or a silk shirt.”
“definitely a black silk,” you added, gaining chuckles from cillian and the crews.
“for me…wow, it’s going to be really weird. I like men who wear watches, like the leather straps one,” you chuckled and hid your face in your palms.
“i definitely rubbed it on her, sorry,” cillian smiled and hid his watch as he crossed his arms.
“hey- yeah- maybe he did…ooo, ah, another thing is properly a teacher glasses, i don’t know man, it’s hot.”
“noted, guys, you’re welcome,” the interviewer says to the camera, cutting off the interview session.
if you like my work, feel free to like or reblog; if not, critiques are appreciated. today’s a great day to take care of yourself 🤍 lots of love.
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy au#oppenheimer#barbieheimer#instagram au#cillian murphy imagines
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Warnings: 18+ mdni. established relationship. fem!reader. aged up kat. anal.
a/n: i finally gave in and wrote this filth, ok. it's been on my mind for a while, please forgive me lol.
---
THE moan Katsuki lets out is guttural.
He’s sweating like crazy on top of the navy blue sheets as he pants, the lust-driven look in his eyes purely male. Releasing a small sigh, the freshly-turned twenty-six-year-old smirks at the feverish warmth to surround him by the time his heavy cock sinks fully inside you.
Being balls deep inside your tight ass is pure bliss. All lubed up and twitching in delight to really relish the lewd birthday gift you give him every 365 days, and which he's so very impatient to receive, Katsuki doesn't mind at all that he's one year closer to thirty as he chuckles and shoves himself even deeper carefully.
The short "Hah... Fuck yeah, baby." is purely derisive by the time his entire length experiences the pleasant tightness of the tiny hole you don't allow him to fuck all that often. You're all stretched out as you accept him. He's so lucky.
You squeak when he pushes further inside you slowly; sweat-coated body trembling in the firm reverse cowgirl position he holds you in. Your legs are squeezed together and bent at the knees. He's pushing them further against your chest with the help of his rough hands resting on the back of your thighs, just so that he can actually impale you on his fucking cock. You feel like you're going to explode from how badly he wants in, in, in.
He's relentless.
"Ki," you whisper, brow furrowing at the pang of hot ache to sear through you when he angles himself better and pushes even further. "Easy, baby. I-I know you're excited, but... We gotta take it sl-... Oh, my fucking god, s-slow...! Go slow, baby. Please."
"Mhmmm, goin' slow and easy, pretty... Anythin' y'want," he replies dazedly. His words have nearly become an incoherent slur and twist of tongue from how good you're making him feel, but all the bitter liquor he's drank at the small get-together you've surprised him with - and which he pretended he hated - might be one to blame as well.
After all, the vanilla cake you got him for his 26th birthday was sickeningly cute on purpose; entirely covered in rich buttercream icing and drizzled with colourful sprinkles, which he swears gave him a headache whenever he looked at them for too long.
You've even went as far as to make him blow out the candles that had been propped up in the middle of the giant scribble of icing, spelling out a dramatic: ‘Happy birthday, Katsuki!’ in bright red colouring.
All of it is clearly a symbol of your loving, albeit taunting relationship - he knows it is. You buy the stupid cake for him just to be a menace every year, but he still ate every last bite of the giant piece you handed him at his super secret surprise party - the one that isn't even that much of a surprise, after the third annual time it's happened - even though the bridge of his nose wrinkled in annoyance during the entirety of him chewing the silly thing.
The presents he received from his friends were okay. The texts that kept making his cell phone beep were annoying. The long phone call he had to endure from his mother and father so that they could congratulate their son on turning one year older in his outrageously busy life was outright pesky. Truth be told, Katsuki felt low-key thankful by the time his birthday at long last came to an end and he was able to drop his tired body into bed.
But he feels good now - getting to do anal with you. So good, in fact, that he'd even consider enduring all of the birthday antics you tend to pull on him as some twisted form of a sick joke. Actually, he'd let you watch him suffer in his little party hat, and would let you take photos of him blowing out the shitty candles, if it meant that he would be spoiled rotten like this at least once every few days, every week, every month, every year; not just on April goddamn 20th.
He's just that greedy. That horny for that tight peach of yours.
"Ah, fuck... Ki!" You whine now; this desperate, prolonged sort of sob that yanks him right out of his thoughts as you say, "You feel s'big inside me... So, so big."
"It's 'cause you feel so damn good, babe," he compliments in reply, the tone of his voice so utterly strained. "You've got me s'hard that it makes my fuckin' dick hurt." It's true. He's ready to bust a nut so embarrassingly quick from how good it feels. It's a lucky thing that he's as stubborn as he is to resist it.
There's a wildfire in your eyes that he knows is there, despite that he can't see it when you grit out, "Well, your dick hurts me!" It hurts me so good.
"Yeah?" he says, unable to wipe the crooked, lazy grin from his face now. His hands grab a better hold of your thighs, calloused fingers digging deep into the plush flesh so that he can keep you still when you start to squirm. "Well, it ain't my fault you've got such a fuckable ass, huh? I wish I could see how pretty you look like this... With my dick up that tight hole of yours."
You're about to bite back a snarky remark, though nothing comes out except for a slutty moan the moment his thick fingers find your clit. A waterfall of filthy curses he rarely hears you voice leaves your pouty lips and sticks to ceiling of your shared bedroom at the divine friction he gives you now. It seems that he isn't the only one that gets to be spoiled this year.
He starts to rub lazy circles on the cute, sensitive button - all languid and precise, until the hole that's empty of him starts to flutter in response, and you begin to beg him to start pounding into you so that you can be filled up to the brim with his warm seed as soon as possible. The anticipation makes your legs literally shake. You're barely able to keep it together - and this fast, too.
Katsuki listens to your high-pitched pleas that grow both in fervour and necessity as more and more time passes. He's mindful as his hips begin to rut into you, keenly listening to the lewd squelching noises the lube produces with that heavy pat, pat, pat, and your heavy breathing when he gets an even better angle and strikes home. The clench you give him in response is so potent that he's about ready to lose his fucking mind.
The entire room smells like caramel from how much he's sweating. Salt is literally dribbling down both of his temples, but he still keeps going. He just can't stop. Not when you're about to cum from having his big, fat cock inside your ass.
"Gonna-... Gonna cum soon! Fuck, fuck, fuck - I-I'm so close, Kat."
"Yeah? I gotcha, baby... I gotcha. Imma take care of you. Gonna make you cum, promise."
Your curves jiggle against his abdomen as you take his dick like a fucking champ and keep on bouncing; nearly squealing in a pitch so high it makes his ears hurt when he pinches your puffy clit and turns you so overstimulated that you're nearly ready to squirt and gush all over him. As you squeeze your eyes shut and tip over the edge only minutes later, plunging into an orgasm of a different kind, that you only dare to experience once a year as a treat for your brute of a boyfriend.
He follows not a moment after you've floated up into the heavens and turned brain-dead. Everything feels fuzzy inside your mind as he fills you up with his cum and lets out another broken moan and a grunt of an especially nasty curse, but the warm ropes of white are pleasant as they coat your walls. You can tell he's been barely withholding his own climax; the entirety of his body feels so stiff and hot underneath you. Even his jaw is clenched so tightly that it clicks when he snaps it shut. It's just a different kind of experience, after all. Everything is more intense, hence why his eyes are rolling back and his head is sent tipping into the mattress.
"Maybe-... Fuck, oh my..." You suck in a sharp breath to recollect your buzzing thoughts as the words fade away into silence and you stick to his heaving chest until you're practically glued together. He's cummed so much that his cum leaks out of you even if he's still inside you, dick slowly going soft and tender. The milky release is drooling right down to his balls by the time you finally manage to finish your sentence, "Maybe we should take a picture next year, mm? Since you wanna see me so bad."
"I'd like that," he whispers quietly, pulling you closer and kissing your naked shoulder gently. "I'd like that a whole fuckin' lot, baby."
It's true. Katsuki may not like being the birthday boy and the attention it brings, but it’s different when he gets to spend it with you. The presents you give him on his birthday are always the best, after all.
To say that he can barely wait for the one he'll get for his 27th would be an understatement.
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STAY AT HOME WIFE.
୨୧ PARING. girlfriend! ellie williams x gn! reader
୨୧ SUMMARY. a work break spent texting with your girlfriend has her persuading you to quit your job.
୨୧ WARNINGS. fluff, established relationship, talk of shitty customers, ellie being silly and impractical, joel is alive!
୨୧ AUTHOR'S NOTE. people loved the abby text au, so i thought to make one for the one and only ellie bellie :b
masterlist. | tlou masterlist.
you
pookie
smellie 👎 message
i'm on my break!
smellie
i'm on my break!
FINALLY!
pookie
yknow i hate that nickname
you 👎 message
you
sure you do
smellie
i was just abt to tell u our son misses you
you ? message
you
you just did silly
smellie 👎 message
smellie
forget it...
how's work so far???
you
wait :(
tell uno that i miss him!!!!!
smellie
so the cat gets an i miss you message and not your beloved girlfriend?
you
yeah... basically
smellie 👎 message
but you said you didn't like my nickname for you ☹️
i think it's super cute! you're my pookie bear!!
smellie
the bear part is kinda cute
you
all of it is cute
smellie
alr
all of it is cute
you
so
smellie
so?
you
what did my son say?
smellie 👎 message
smellie
you're joking
you
am not
smellie
he's OUR son
and he did a little screech when i told him
you loved message
you
he's OUR son
nu uh you're the father that step up that's all
smellie ! message
smellie
nu uh you're the father that step up that's all
but i'm the best father there is 😌
you
you really are
i miss you baby
smellie loved message
wish my lips could stretch so i could give you a kiss from anywhere
smellie loved photo & message
smellie
you're really cute
you loved message
now tell me abt work babe
you
horrible
smellie 👎 message
i'm telling you, never ever work in retail
smellie
wasn't planning on it
you haha message
you
i mean it!
bc tell me why i was minding my own business walking around the store asking if anyone needed help nd a woman stops me to hand me shirt so i could refold it-
smellie
OH
KNOCK THE BITCH OUT
you
i was beyond baffled
like hello? i get i'm a worker but i wasn't even folding clothes :(
smellie 👎 message
smellie
babe i would've rocked her shit so hard n then make her fold that shirt herself
you haha message
serves the ugly right
you
you really shouldn't work in retail omg you'd get fired so quick
and probably banned
smellie haha message
serves the ugly right
she was actually really pretty so it made it worse
smellie
she was actually really pretty so it made it worse
she pulled that shit with you so that automatically makes her ugly in my book!
you should honestly just quit
you ? message
you
what would i do all day :(
smellie
be cute n silly n beautiful like usual
you could be a stay at home wife
my cute little house wife
you loved message
you
as much as i would love that...
in this economy?
smellie
don't worry babe
i'll take care of you
you
while working for joel?
smellie
the old man gotta retire someday then i'm gonna take over for him
then i'll get you that wrap around porch house you wanted
you loved message
you
or you could build it :D
smellie loved message
smellie
i'd build anything for my house wife
you loved message
you
n that's why i'm bring you home some tea with popping pearls from the food court
smellie ! message
smellie
thank you wifeyy
you loved message
reblogs & feedback is appreciated (^ｰ^)
#starphireswrites.#hoping i did service to ellie's character!#this was so silly to write but it's just so ellie to tell her gf to become a house wife!!!!!#literally a headcanon of mine that ellie is handy and wouldn't totally worked with joel in modern times!#she's also a tea with popping pearls lover i don't make the rules!#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fluff#the last of us#the last of us fluff#tlou x reader
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guh......climbing out of my hole of uni final papers for a moment.....bc i have to talk abt mike some more.....specifically dad(dy) mike-
(cws: fnaf movie spoilers, breeding, me being nasty right on schedule)
like....i can't get over it. he just strikes me as such dad material. he gives me the vibes of exhausted + mentally worn out + don't need another kid to run after but as soon as he's, like, free from the horrors and/or financially stable? he'd just be like "........so honey when are we having a baby??" right out of the blue. i get the feeling that he'd normally be a big family guy (hence the family photos everywhere and the.....intense childhood nostalgia) and he'd probably be all over starting his own if he wasn't dealing with all the death and murder and kidnapping and dream hopping and blah blah blah.
but anyways. baby. thinkin he wants one soooooooo badly.........and he'd be so stupid protective like a big, husband-shaped guard dog. we saw him in the fountain scene nobody can tell me he wouldn't go apeshit over protecting his little babus and their ultra hot momma--plus, at some point when Abby grows up he'd probably get such awful empty nest syndrome he'd be biting his nails not having someone to provide for and protect. that's his purpose! he's gotta be the strong one that gets shit done, hence knocking up some pretty thing that's got those pretty doe eyes and pretty hair and other pretty features for his kids to inherit.
i don't think it would hit him right away either, he'd think he's fine until he's blowin your back out and it hits him like ".....oh. shit," when he realizes how much he doesn't wanna pull out. not just because it feels good to bust a load so thick you leak all over the pillows, but because you might end up with a baby bump and that would be even cuter. you wouldn't even be able to trap him if you wanted to cause he wouldn't care about the contraception anyways--if you want to risk it, he'll risk it, and you might not expect how deep he goes as he tries to knock you up on the first try. you're not even half as crazy as he is, draining his balls inside you like it's an olympic sport just so he can make you take a test in two weeks. even if he can't afford it he'll take time off work just to keep you in bed for a couple days, give it a real good try so he can say he put everything he has into it. it's a good excuse for him to fall asleep still nestled inside you too, his weight pressing you down so you can't get up with all that cum slowly leaking down your legs. trying for a baby is so much fun and so intoxicating mike probably won't even realize how much work it'll really be until you start showing, but by then it's kinda too late anyways and it's not like he'd wanna go back and change it. seriously, he's so fucking lucky to even talk to you, much less be the father of your children and possibly your future husband.
but then he's got something so sweet and adorable to protect besides you on the horizon, something he can cuddle and kiss and rock to sleep and read bedtime stories to like he's loved doing with abby and always did with garrett, including all the silly voices he's made up to make them giggle and plead for just a few more pages. he can be even better than his parents and he'll finally have the second chance he's been dying for--and this time, nothing is gonna take what he loves away from him. nothing.
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#yes im feral and tired and i should be writing my thesis but mike has me in a chokehold rn#spicy writing#fnaf mike#fnaf movie#ellie thirsts
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We'll Keep This Love in a Photograph John Dory X Fem Reader
Laughter filled the clearing, as BroZone and the Pop sisters sat around the camp fire. Turns out sitting around and roasting marshmallows was fun. In order to build their relationships strong, BroZone decided to have monthly get togethers, and each sibling got to choose where they hung out, and this monthly is was John Dory's turn.
"Hey, JD! I found this photo book while I was looking for more hot chocolate, which I found by the way, but who are these Trolls?" Poppy asked, coming out with a picture book in her hands.
John Dory froze seeing the book, face falling into a sad smile as he gently took the book from the Pop Queen. "John? You okay?" Floyd asked, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Y-yeah..." The oldest Troll trailed off, clearly not in the moment anymore. Floyd shared a look with Bruce, and looked at the now open book that changed John Dory's mood.
The first picture of a much younger John Dory holding the camera , and a female Troll both grinning wildly at the camera, and they were both dressed in winter clothes, covered in snow, the female holding a pair of ski poles in her hand.
"This, uh, is another part of why I've been gone so long. This photo book is all that's left of them."
He took a few pictures out with gentle hands, and passed them around the group.
"This is...sorry, was (Y/N)...she was my wife. She used to run a ski lodge in the Nerverglade Trails with her family." He chuckled fondly, thinking of the wild adrenaline junkie Troll. "She taught me how to ski, and I taught her how to make Grandma's flavorberry pie. She had the biggest sweet tooth ever, even bigger than you two, Poppyseed and Viva."
The others looked between the pictures and John Dory, feeling the happy energy coming from the oldest Troll, as he looked back on these fond memories.
"We dated for about 3 years, before she proposed." "Wait, she proposed?" Bruce asked, tilting his head, clearly invested in the story...he was the Heartthrob for a reason, he'd always been sucker for a good love story and happy endings.
John Dory laughed loudly, making his brothers smile. "Yeah, Sweet Tooth wasn't very patient. She did what she wanted whenever she wanted, and took everyone on the ride along with her."
Branch then showed Poppy a a photo booth style picture of John Dory and (Y/N) in their wedding clothes: JD holding (Y/N) bridal style, grinning , switching their wedding clothes, both making silly faces, and finally the two sharing a kiss, holding each other close.
"Once we were married, we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves, so it wasn't a surprise when she told me she was pregnant." John showed Clay a picture of an polka dotted egg on a pillow with (second favorite color), fluffy bangs poking out, with smirking (Y/N) holding up a onesie that said, "You can stop asking now❤️." and John Dory clearly excited, frozen in time looking at the egg in awe.
Clay and Viva were both looking at a picture of John Dory sleeping on the couch with the tiny infant resting on his chest, (Y/N) looking like she was trying hard not to squeal.
Floyd smiled at the little toddler now making a face as she wore her father's goggles and a diaper, (Y/N) holding her stomach clearly laughing. "She was a wild child, wasn't she?" the second youngest BroZone member asked.
"Took after her mama, that's for sure. Her name was Cara. My little Cara Beara." Rhonda squealed excitedly, remembering the little Trolling. Bruce smiled at the little nickname before frowning. "Wait, was? John, what happened?"'
John Dory scowled at his hands, before looking sadly at the final photo that made its way into his hands. It was the last picture they'd taken before it happened. Cara was a big girl, now at the age of 8 years old, resting on her dad's back, and her mom's hand on her shoulder. (Y/N), holding 2 pairs of ice skates, but she was also wearing a pair of compression socks on her feet. John Dory was holding the camera on a stick, to do a group selfie.
"Cara wanted to learn to ice skate, and (Y/N)'s been skating since she was a kid, so obviously she was the best choice. It was going to be below freezing later that night, and we wanted to get Cara out in nature before hen. So while they were skating, I wanted to surprise them with a hot chocolate movie night snack bar. I came back to Rhonda, and I noticed it started to get darker."
JD exhaled softly, tearing up. "I went to go get them, still skating, and having fun. So I went to get them, when I saw a fox creeping towards my girls. I yelled out to them, and started running, hoping to get to them in time." John Dory flinched, as if he was relieving the moment again. "I was too far to get to them, and by the time (Y/N) realized I was saying, the fox ate them both in one bite."
John Dory pushed the palm of his hands into his eyes fighting the tears, threatening to spill, losing the battle and letting out a sob, as he continued to berate himself.
"It was my fault! If I'd been out there and skating, instead of inside with Rhonda, we would've gotten out and home safely! I'd promise to protect them, and I turned my back on them! If they didn't get eaten,(Y/N) would've taken Cara and left me because I--" John was cut off by his brothers hugging him tightly, Floyd sniffling softly.
"JD, we've seen the pictures...there was so much love between you, (Y/N), and even more so when Cara was born. You did what you could, and they're with you now, even if you can't see them." Bruce sniffed, he knew what it was like to lose a child. Brandy had 2 miscarriages before they got pregnant. "You've carried this burden that wasn't yours, for so long. It was an accident." Floyd whispered.
JD gripped on to his brothers, sobbing quietly, letting them take on some of his pain.
Poppy and Viva placed a supporting hand on one of JD's shoulders, in silent support. Viva noticed a slight glow out of the corner of the eye. She nudged Poppy, who gasped, catching the brothers' attention.
Standing a few feet away, petting Rhonda was a ghost version of (Y/N) and Cara, both of their smiles brightening when they saw the group looking at them.
"It was never your fault, Daredevil. It was an accident. But we're okay now, John." "Yeah! Now we can watch out for you, just like you did for us Daddy!" Cara yelled excitedly, before going over to hug her dad. John Dory gasped, feeling her hold on to him, before hugging her tightly back. (Y/N) came over to join the family hug. The rest of BroZone smiled softly, seeing the family together.
"Enjoy your brothers, go on adventures do you can tell us all about it." (Y/N) cooed, as she and Cara backed away and began to fade away. "Bye Daddy! We love you!" "Goodbye, my love. We'll wait for you to come home." promised (Y/N), as they faded away completely, John sobbing harder in his brothers' arm, holding that last picture in his hands.
"We keep this love in a photograph."
Wow that one got away from me lol
Let me know what you guys think!
@vacayisland
#brozone x reader#dreamworks trolls#trolls band together#branch#clay trolls#john dory#broppy#trolls branch#trolls poppy#branch x poppy#john dory trolls#john dory x reader#bruce trolls#floyd trolls#storydays#trolls 3#trolls fandom#ed sheeran
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she's everything... and he's just mick ! mick s. x ofc (filipino!nanny!ofc)
summary: in the first race of the season, the vettels made their appearance as a family of three (or four) as kimi vettel debuts as the newest vettel of the grid and a mick schumacher fan. OR let me introduce barbara elisandra 'barbie' blanco - the woman that the vettel couple fostered for years who now takes care of the two year old boy alongside kimi's uncle mick.
content warning: smau + article. quality kimi vettel (oc) content, some hater getting ratio'd, lewis is a retired king (yes king get that rest), everyone loving kimi, barbie and mick = barbie and ken, three racing team admins fighting on the comment section, drivers also fighting in the comment section (ate = term of endearment)
note: i told y'all i'm gonna continue on with the kimi vettel/crazy rich wife saga 😭 and to all of the users who made my favourite f1 fics— i see you 👀 i’m here and i’m lurking and i’m enjoying
masterlist
barblanco posted a story !!!
tagged mickschumacher, belongvettel
liked by barblanco, georgerussell63, lewishamilton
mercedesamgf1 to answer your question: YES, we got our new mercedes ambassador not one- but TWO mercedes cars. uncle mackie said to get him one, but uncle toto said make it double✌️
lewishamilton those are some nice whip, kimi! you don't mind if you take them for a spin with roscoe, do you? 🐶🥶 liked by mercedesamgf1
mercedesamgf1 kimi has a lot of furry friends, but the vettels said there's always room for one more!
user1 as we said: BEST VETTEL IN THE GRID
user2 mickschumacher is slowly transforming kimi vettel into a mini mick schumacher and i am here to sit and admire 🥰
mercedesamgf1 like father, like son 🤗
georgerussell63 still upset he wouldn't let go of mick 🙂 liked by mercedesamgf1
mercedesamgf1 there's always a next time george!
mickschumacher look at my boy!!! ❤️🤍 liked by mercedesamgf1
belongvettel we started seeing double when he wore that race suit 😅 thank you so much for your warm welcome! kimi definitely loved being around you all and we're looking forward to attend a couple more rounds! 😍 liked by mercedesamgf1
mercedesamgf1 anything for our newest favourite vettel!!!
tagged belongvettel, scuderiaferrari, mercedesamgf1
liked by barblanco, mickschumacher, landonorris
user1 how many outfit changes did he have to go through this week what 😭😭
user2 i think some photos were taken in different days 🤔
user3 bel's nightmare is seeing him in a race suit and a powered car 😂 makes me wonder how it went for the first few days
user4 i'm looking forward to seeing the vettels' gridwalk interview!!
f1 us too! 🥰
scuderiaferrari his name is KIMI and VETTEL for a reason f1
redbullracing ur so silly 🤪
mercedesamgf1 no you two are 🤣 scuderiaferrari redbullracing
user5 why are these teams fighting in the comment section?
landonorris he'd look nice on a papaya suit tbh
mickschumacher nah uh
georgerussell63 absolutely not.
maxverstappen1 look at him! can't wait to have a rbr sebastian 2.0 in the grid
mickschumacher ❌ wrong try again ❌
carlossainzjr false news max ❌
landonorris you couldn't be any more wrong lad ❌
charles_leclerc i disagree verstappen ❌
alex_albon belongvettel which team do you think kimi would compete for?
belongvettel none of them because seb won't take him racing on such dangerous places 🙂
mickschumacher boooooo that's not mercedes 👎
tagged belongvettel, barblanco, ginaschumacher
liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, estebanocon
ginaschumacher i actually came to see barbie and kimi but maybe mom went to see you? 😺
mickschumacher 😑
estebanocon its getting so obvious mick 😭
user1 what is getting obvious??? estie???
landonorris s-tier simping tbh 🙃
user2 y'all telling me mick is simping for kimi's nanny? 😏
user3 seb's about to act up frfr 😉
belongvettel my two boys!!! liked by mickschumacher
user4 HER TWO BOYS??? MICK REALLY IS A VETTEL 😍
barblanco you did sooooo good getting those points, mick! (i'm only learning about f1 please don't be mad) ❤️👏 liked by mickschumacher
mickschumacher thank you, liebe! i'm sure seb and i will be able to teach you more about it!
user5 no because it really is obvious 😺
user6 reading the fast lane daily article, i agree that she lives up to her name barbie bc she really can do anything 😻 i dont blame u for liking her liked by mickschumacher
user7 "liked by mickschumacher" LMAO OBVIOUS MUCH?! this man is giving "wahpsssshhh" energy fr
#formula one fanfiction#formula one fic#formula one imagine#formula one x oc#formula one smau#f1 imagine#f1 fic#mick schumacher imagine#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher fluff#mick schumacher instagram au#mick schumacher ig au#formula one ig au#formula one social media au#formula one fluff#formula one instagram au#f1 ig au#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#mick schumacher au#mick schumacher smau#mick schumacher social media au
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Soft dad!Quinn thoughts ☆—
Au Masterlist!!
Quinn reads his kid's bedtime stories every night, even on roadies! if he's at home he'll press a kiss on Honey's head and wrangle his kids into Warren's room, each kid gets to pick out their favourite book (as they get older the books become novels and he reads a chapter each night). He spends at least half an hour in bed with them, doing the fun voices as he lulls his kids to sleep, Honey comes in after and tucks them in, most nights Quinn has to carry Hayden back to her bed after she falls asleep, but sometimes she and Warren are snuggled up to one another and he can't find it in himself to separate them.
It's nearing the end of Hayden's kindergarten year there is a daddy-daughter dance for all the girls in her grade. Most of the dads wore dress shirts and khakis, not Quinn though, he goes all out. Quinn whips out Hayd’s favourite game day suit of his, a plum-coloured set with a pinstripe design, to match her cream-coloured dress and purple accessories. She feels like the prettiest girl alive as Honey puts her hair in heated curlers and does her makeup, loving for the photo shoot they do before Quinn snatches her up and chauffeurs her all the way to the school. The dance is definitely one of her core memories. You’d expect Quinn to be shy and reserved, a little embarrassed to be so outwardly having fun, but his baby girl deserves the best, so he dances the night away. Slow dances, silly dances, Quinn is literally making a fool of himself, but the smile hasn’t left his daughter's lips once so he is having the best night ever.
Teaching Warren to skate was a struggle, at this point, he was a stage one clinger, and Honey happened to be his target for snuggling. Honey was also just about to have their second baby so she was extremely emotional about everything and anything. Quinn finally got him on the ice, Warren was doing pretty good, listening to his fathers his instructions as Quinn helped him glide across the ice, and then he fell. Warren tripped as he looked up at his mother for a photo and he landed right on his back, screaming crying as Quinn whisked him up into his arms. A short "you’re okay" left his mouth, as he looked up to see Honey in full-blown tears at her son's cries, “he’s okay,” he soothed as he skated over to his emotional wife who opened her arms for her son. “It was his first fall, it happens,” he goes to kiss her head to help with the tears but she pulls away, “you and that death sport just injured my baby,” she said lifting Warren up to place kisses all over his face, “evil daddy,” she shoots daggers at her husband as Quinn put his hands up in surrender.
Brock and Elias are like baby magnets, the littlest Hughes loves them. Any Canucks event they attend the two babies ditch their own parents and hang out with their uncles for the entirety of the event. Most media will walk up to the two men and want to talk about their babies or ask them to take photos for the media platforms and both have to be like “Ummm these are the spawns of the Hughes’.” It became a run of joke in the locker room, guys on the team started to refer to the men as Mama Brock and Daddy Elias for a portion of the year, and even the media team got in on the joke and posted some photos over the year of the guys with the babies.
#thelittlesthughesau!!#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes blurb#jack hughes#luke hughes#brock boeser#elias pettersson#vancouver canucks
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Tea Time with Price (HC)
pure silly fluffy nonsense (not proofread)
price DEFINITELY has a mug (secretly his favourite) that says "no. 1 dad". whether he has kids or not, it was actually a joke christmas gift from one of the boys (probably soap, let’s be real) to thank him for being their captain.
(p.s. i was in scotland a couple years ago and found a shop full of slightly ugly scottish tourist mugs - no way johnny doesn’t have one or two of those, with a scenic image of tobermory or a big scottish flag)
let’s face it, we all know price is like a second father to all of tf141, and deep down he takes such pride in that; so when soap gave him that stupid mug, he laughed but really found it pretty heartwarming.
and he’ll never admit it to you, you’ll tease him playfully about it and he’ll laugh and insist that it’s just a gag gift, then suggest you make him a dad. with a stupid little grin on his face, and a raised eyebrow. every time.
also, price is a nice, classic one sugar kind of guy. he doesn’t have his tea milky, just right. whereas, simon wouldn’t take sugar, and would definitely feel a little superior about it, like it makes him more of a tough guy.
photo nabbed from @collinnmckinley x
btw, my last post was my first ever fanfic and it got 200 likes which is crazyyyy to me 🤭 tysm everyone who reposted love you lots
#john price#call of duty#cod mw2#price x reader#price x you#headcanon#tea#british#i love old men#he’s so fine
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