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#i quiped your mom
rubidius-dext · 2 years
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Honestly if you don't
Quoth
Quote
Quip
Quiry
and last but not least
Question your local authority
then what's even the point of opening your mouth, my good friend?
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girlwithfish · 11 days
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idkkk like if that's how u wanna raise ur kids to be afraid of u and always worried about how they'll be scrutinized or yelled at and theyll will never view u as a safe figure to be comfortable around do ur Thang but u just pushed me away 4ever tbh
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watasemasaru · 7 months
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"she sits there with her man glasses and acts like mother superior..."
"maybe op meant it literally, like glasses that are for men."
THAT'S NOT A THING. GLASSES DON'T HAVE A FUCKING GENDER. THEM SEPARATING FRAMES BY GENDER IS JUST STUPID MARKETING BULLSHIT. THE FRAMES ARE FITTED TO YOUR FACE. THE GENDER OF YOUR NOT REAL INANIMATE OBJECT THAT LETS YOU FUCKING SEE IS YOUR FUCKING GENDER. BECAUSE THEY'RE YOURS.
If you're wearing Craig's glasses they're his gender and why are you wearing his glasses you fucking beast stop that
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babisawyer · 10 months
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the problem is I watched buffy the vampire slayer during my formative years and now buffy summers makes up for 90% of my personality.
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kentopedia · 6 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento
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yuuji accidentally calls you mom
contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059
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“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”
kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.
a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.
so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.
“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”
yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.
“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.
“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”
he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”
there's an elongated moment of silence.
you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.
all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“
“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“
though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”
you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.
kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”
you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.
“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.
yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.
“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!
kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.
“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”
"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."
kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.
though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.
you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”
yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”
kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”
you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.
"you should be nicer to your son, kento."
kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."
you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.
but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.
"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.
kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— braiding his hair
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pairing: earth 42!miles x fem!reader
summary: Miles is very particular when it comes to how his hair looks, so he doesn’t let just anyone put their hands in his head. His mom has been braiding it for him since he was in middle school, and he’d found no reason to change routine until you’d randomly expressed interest one day. wc: 702
contains: fluff, fem!reader, envisioned as black!reader but not specified
word bank: “está bien, mi amor” - it’s okay, my love
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You were dedicated on teaching yourself how to cornrow/dutch braid specifically for your boyfriend, Miles; having practiced on your little brother a few times before you proposed the idea. And while you could braid normally, you weren’t very well versed in braids to the scalp— those were an entirely different ballgame.
The first time he agreed to sit between your legs, handed you the rat tail comb, and simultaneously reached behind him to tug on his hair-tie and release his hair from the low ponytail it was in, you quickly understood why he kept it braided back. It was massive, and there was so much of it. Even with the sides of his hair faded you were still trying to figure out how it had this much volume. His curls were thick, coily in some places, silky and curled in others, falling just a bit below his shoulders. Hell, you were almost jealous.
It was as if he could read your mind from his seated position on the floor, his back to you, legs criss-crossed and you on his desk chair. “I got a lotta hair, huh?” He nearly felt the act of your hands experimentally hovering over the area, a chuckle falling from his lips before he asked you, “You sure you got it, Mami?” He turned just slightly to peer over his shoulder. “I can always ask my moms to-“
You hastily cut him off, “No, no!” Sounding a little more enthusiastic than you planned, heat spread up the expanse of your throat as you cleared it and sat up straighter, managing to instill some confidence in yourself. “I wanna try.”
And he’s more than willing to let you. You’re his girl after all, basically the only person he trusts other than his mother, so with a surrendered raise of his hands, he nods and leans back once again. “Aight then, do ya thing.”
It took a little longer than some simple braids should, and when you finally finished and reached forward to offer him the hand mirror, you had to restrain from anxiously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip. “How’d I do?” You queried quietly, hands gently resting over his lean shoulders.
You watched closely as he turned from cheek to cheek to look over your work in the mirror, brows raising in slight disbelief his bottom lip sticking out in a manner of approval as he nodded. “Damn, Ima little surprised, can’t lie.” He quipped, giving as much of a smile as someone like him gave. “You sure this your first time doing this?”
“I practiced on my little brother once or twice.” You shifted in your seat, the apples of your cheeks tight from your growing grin.“They’re not nearly as good as how your mom does them, though.” Your head tilted as you examined the plaits.
“No, está bien mi amor. They’re perfect, I fuck with them.” He set the mirror down next to him, leaning his head back to rest on your thighs.
“Really?” You felt excitement bubble in your stomach, heart swelling with pride as he expressed his satisfaction.
“Mhmm,” He hummed, long lashes fluttering up at you. “But what I like more is how you learned how to do it just for me. You gon’ be my new hairstylist, hermosa?” He licked his lips, and instantly you were distracted, his accent clinging onto his words as they rolled off his tongue.
You accidentally tuned out his question for a second, the smirk on his face and the way his eyes held contact with yours so intensely had your mind genuinely trying to wrap itself around how he looked this handsome even while upside down. “Hm?” You blinked away the thoughts, blushing when his impish grin widened, pearly whites peeking at your inability to concentrate. “Oh!- Yes… If you want me to be.” You nodded, a smile painting your face to match his.
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- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works on any other platform.
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!!
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flkwh0re · 2 months
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Team Player
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Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding
A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭
Word count: 1,568
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Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.
That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.
It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.
Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.
As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.
“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.
“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.
What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.
Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.
“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”
After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”
You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.
Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.
She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.
Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”
A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.
“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.
“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.
“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.
Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.
Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.
Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.
Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.
Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.
She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.
Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.
Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.
“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.
You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.
With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”
You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.
Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.
She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.
“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.
Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.
Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.
You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.
Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.
“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.
Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.
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diejager · 5 months
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not exactly a specific prompt or anything but - could you write more stepdad!könig and dbf!horangi pls? 👉👈
Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, AGE GAP public sex?, exhibitionism, fingering, under the table, mention of forced piercing, rough sex, unprotected sex, PinV, mention of anal sex, tell em if I missed any.
You jerked, dropping the fork in your hand and biting your lower lip to stop a moan from slipping through between them. Unfortunately, the sudden click of your fork and you shift in expression worried your mother, making her question you, brows furrowed and lips pursed into a frown. She was worried, you knew she was, but that was the last thing you had on mind, neither her quiet quarry about your health and unpredictable act, nor König’s piercing eyes and the food that was now sprayed on the table.
What truly worried you was Horangi and your own inability to hold your voice back. He looked nonchalant, brow quipped up in faked confusion, knowing that your reaction resulted from him, his wandering hand that slipped under the waistband of your short and into your cunt, pumping in and out fo you with a slow and unbothered pace. You jumped from the unexpected tap against your gummy wall, three fingers curling before they hit your sweet spot, sending an arousing pulse up your spine. You’d be fucked stupid by his fingers alone, thick and long - not as long as your stepfather, but they were better than yours - stretching your hole open to take his cock later that night.
“I’m ah-okay, mom,” you smiled shakily at her, hand gripping tightly around your knife, tremors wracking your body as you swallowed down moan after moan. “Just a stomach ache.”
“Oh dear, do you need to lay down?” She frowned good-naturedly, the skin on her brow wrinkling.
“Yeah,” you internally cheered, you’d be able to get away from this situation until later, when you’d be stuck under Horangi, ”Thanks mom.”
You were gagged, mouth stuffed with a soiled pair of your panties, drooling around your thong, down your lips while you wailed. You were stuffed with cock, legs jerking with every push of Horangi’s cock, walls forcibly pried open to take his thick shaft and his prettily trimmed pubes rubbing your swollen clit. You felt his cock carve the walls of your cunt to fit his girth, thicker in the middle with a petty and angry head and veins crawling up the shaft. It cured lightly, light enough to stand between his legs, but heavy just enough that you could feel it weigh you down, pounding away at your crumbling resolve.
He was panting, a husky and laboured breathing on your neck, his hot breath hitting you as he kissed down your shoulder, teeth scratching your soft and tender flesh, weak under his sharper teeth. He hungered for more; he lusted for eternal pleasure. Suckling the curve of your collar, teeth skimming the swell of your jostling breasts, nippled flared and wet from his manhandling. He dove back in, lips wrapped around your least swollen nub, sucking as if he was trying to milk it of all substance. You cried out when he bit down, sinking his fangs into the fat of your chest before he unlatched himself with a wet pop, leaving the indentations of his mouth on you. Then he did the same to your other tit, mind keen on fucking you, his dick ramming into you roughly while he gave attention to your sore nipples.
“Fuck, imagine these pierced,” he chuckled dreamily, a low, addicted daze in his mind, dreaming of piercing your nipples himself, “Wouldn’t you like that?”
You shook your head frantically, dreading giving them mor to use against you, more leverage to make your body betray and succumb to their whims, especially with how often your stepdad’s at home. You struggled under him as if to prove your point, feet kicking around his narrow waist, the scarred flesh a touch different from the rest of his body, pulling at the restraints keeping your hands tied to your headboard —his belt. You let out a ragged and angered scream, silenced by the gag but your body still shook with the force behind it, teary eyes closed while they rolled back in reluctant pleasure.
Horangi’s chest rumbled, a smile stretched awkwardly by the tiger-like scars on his face. In retaliation, he gave a few hard thrusts, rocking your bed against the wall, his cut head kissing your bruised cervix after brushing against your sweet, gummy wall. It punched the air out of your lungs, leaving you heaving and gasping for air, fully at the mercy of your stepfather’s friend-
“Ja, she would look so pretty,” König’s sudden appearance scared you, his mocking coo and statement reaffirming Horangi’s thought.
Your closed around Horangi, flinching away as much as you could in your restrained state, your fear and trepidation made you tighter and wetter, slick suddenly bursting around Horangi’s leaky cock. You could hear your stepfather move, his purposefully-loud steps booming in your ear, but you couldn’t see him, eyes rolled so far back in an explosive release. You felt the bed shift under him, dipping to a side while he loomed over you both, looking at your swollen nipples as if he was admiring how pretty they’d look if he had you pierced them, a rod straight through your round nub.
“Sehr hübsch, Schatzi,” he hummed, his rough hand sliding down the curve of your navel where he could feel every hard thrust and found your clit, rolling it with a big finger, “Or a piercing here, on your little clit.”
König smiled handsomely, a brazenly hungry stare covering his threatening and dominating composure. His ice blue eyes squinted mirthfully, gleaming with a dark urge, something that demanded control, that wanted submission and subservience from you. He’d fill that rimmed hole of yours after Horangi’s done with your pussy, spreading your ass around his thick and veiny cock that pressed uncomfortably against his briefs.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday
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jellys-compendium · 4 months
Text
Red Handed
A König x f!Reader Oneshot
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Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Summary: After your poor performance on one of your squad's training exercises, you've been punished by fulfilling laundry duty for the entire facility for a month. It's a thankless job, but maybe it will help you figure out who the hell has been stealing your panties. Cw: smut (pwp), mutual pining, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, panty kink, panty sniffing, pet names, size difference/size kink, mask kink, semi-public sex, masturbation, mutual pining, König is a bit of a pervert but he's also awkward, shy and sweet and eats pussy like a champ. Word Count: 3k A/n: This fic is for a dear friend of mine. I hope you enjoy it!
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It’s 5:12 AM on a quiet Sunday morning, and mostly everyone in the compound is fast asleep.
Normally, you would be too. But rather than enjoying that sweet extra few hours to sleep in on the one day you have off, you instead find yourself with your teeth grit and cursing under your breath as you haul the last enormous load of laundry into the KorTac facility’s laundry room. 
“This is your punishment,” Your superior officer’s words replay in your mind like a broken record. 
“For your abysmal performance in the last training exercise, you’ll be assigned laundry duty for the entire facility for the month.”
Sheesh, what an asshole. While you understand that this is how it goes in any military faction, it’s not like the man had to assign you to laundry duty for the whole damn month. 
Your comrades had of course taken full advantage of the situation, flinging their dirty socks and other unmentionables at you with childish glee as you passed by their bunks with the laundry bin. Of course, you had returned every little quip with one of your own.
“Thanks mom!”
“No problem, least favorite child.”
“Can you get my boxers smelling like roses when you’re done? My girlfriend would love that.”
“Sure, but I don’t think your hand is all that picky.” 
The banter had been amicably scathing for the most part, but admittedly there had been some days where the teasing had frayed your nerves. Unfortunately, that group of lovable meatheads really struggled on picking up on when you’ve had enough. Luckily for you, on those days salvation had come in the form of one very unlikely character.
König. The charmingly awkward 6ft10 giant that could snap a man’s spine over his knee without breaking a sweat.
“That’s enough teasing from you all. Let her do her job in peace.”
As you load the huge pile of laundry into the washing machines, your mind begins its usual circling around thoughts of König. You like him. A lot.
You’ve liked him from the moment you first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. There’s just something about his dorky personality, coupled with his awkward charm and humongous presence that makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest. Absolutely every single person in the facility knows about your crush too. Well… everyone except König. 
König is a bit of a weird and mysterious person. Sometimes he does and says things that don’t really make a lot of sense. You’ve also come to discover that König is pretty secretive about his past, never giving anyone too many details about where he comes from or who he really is. 
But the strangest thing about König is that he always has his face covered, even when he’s off duty. As the two of you developed a closer friendship over time, you’d mustered the courage to ask him about the mask one day, but König had simply let out a nervous little laugh and said,
“Ah. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy, häschen.”
Also, yes, häschen. The huge Austrian man you had a not so secret crush on had given you an affectionate little nickname. A nickname that he only used whenever the two of you were alone.
“You’re always so busy and energetic! Like a cu—ah—clever little rabbit, ja?”
Your heart squeezes in your chest. God, you are so down bad for that man. Too bad that when it comes to your feelings, König is about as perceptive as a bag full of hammers. You can’t quite figure out if he genuinely is that oblivious to your advances or if it’s his way of letting you down gently. For fear of it being the latter, you had decided to not push it and see where things go.
Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly sinking your fingers into your pussy every other night, his name a silent whisper on your lips and his innocent little nickname an echo in your brain.
Häschen.
A tremor travels up your spine, and your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat courses through your body. Right. Ignoring that. 
Refocusing on your task, you finish filling up one of the many washing machines, slide out the tray, and pour in the detergent and softener before setting it to cycle. Then, you proceed to fill in the next one and the next until finally you get to your own pile of laundry.
As you start to sort your clothes, you realize that you’re running low on underwear again. It’s so weird.
In the last few months you’d noticed that some of your panties had gone missing. Originally you’d thought that it was just a fluke—maybe one of your not so perceptive comrades accidentally dropping one or two behind the machines? But since you yourself had taken over laundry duty, you realized that this isn’t the case. Another pair had gone missing and from right under your nose. 
You had been especially annoyed when you discovered that it was your favorite comfy but lacy little pair too. Either this is a joke in poor taste, or you have a pervert on your hands. Regardless of which one it is, it’s the last thing you need right now.
Sighing, you reach down and are about to finish filling up the last drum with your dirty clothes when you realize that you had forgotten to add one of your favorite hoodies to the pile.
“Shit.” You whisper under your breath. It’s going to be a bit of a trek to head back to your room and get it, but you really love that hoodie and the thought of being wrapped all nice and warm in it once it’s out of the dryer is too enticing to ignore.
Leaving your laundry to sit in the open machine, you make your way back through the dimly lit hallways of the KorTac training facility. It’s too early for even your superiors to be up, so you’re not that worried about being caught padding through the hallways with bare feet and without your uniform.
As you pass by König’s room, your eyes can’t help but linger on the door. He hasn’t come back from his contract yet. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him and you miss the big guy. 
Even though König hasn’t shown any signs that he’s interested in you beyond being just friends, you still miss seeing him in the mornings. Exchanging some amicable and encouraging words before heading off to your first drill is one of the highlights of your day. Maybe he’s not into you, or maybe he’s just that shy. König’s true intentions are really just as mysterious as the face he hides.
Finally reaching your room, you make a grab for the hoodie that you’ve forgotten at the foot of your bed. Once you have it safely tucked under your arm, you quietly slip back out into the hallway and jog back towards the laundry room. You’d prefer to have your laundry duty done before your comrades wake up and start harassing you for clean clothes.
You slow your gait as you reach the laundry room, but as you silently reach for the door you detect the softest little sound resonating from behind the door.
Is someone there? Seriously, at five in the morning? But then strikes you. Maybe this is the culprit behind your missing panties!
‘Caught you red handed you, jerk.’ You think as you slowly wrap your fingers around the doorknob and turn it. Once the latch is free, you silently push it open just a crack and peek inside. What you see has your jaw nearly hitting the floor.
It’s…König. 
Your eyes sweep across König’s unmistakable, enormous frame as he leans over the washing machine you had left open, his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose, giving you a teasing glimpse of his lips, chin, and jaw as he presses a bundled wad of red fabric against his face.
Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?
A deep groan escapes König’s lips, his huge body tensing as his left hand travels down. You nearly choke on your own spit when he starts to palm at the raging hard on pressing severely against his fly.
Whoa…is that a third leg in his pants or…
Your eyes are glued to König’s hand as it travels up and down his clothed length, his body shudders gorgeously as he moves back to lean against one of the dryers. The sight of the pink swipe of his tongue darting out to lick at your panties has you practically gushing between your legs.
Then, another soft sound, this time a desperate little groan of your name wisps through the air as König’s hips start to roll against his hand. The tiniest little wet spot forms on his pants where the head of his cock rests. 
“You taste so good, mein häschen.”
Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.
Oh.
You bite your lip, debating on what you should do. The intoxicating thrill that bubbles in your tummy at the thought of watching König stroke his cock to the scent of your pussy is outrageously tempting. But…this is a messy situation. You really shouldn’t be spying on him. But then again, he really shouldn’t be stealing your panties and using them to jerk off.
Fuck. But König wants you too, doesn’t he? He’s pent up and desperate, straining against his pants and you can help him with that. 
Stealing your resolve, you drop your hoodie, enter the laundry room and then slowly close and lock the door behind you. 
Another hot groan escapes König’s mouth. He opens his eyes, those blue pools all glassy and love drunk until they fall on you. The moment his brain registers that you’re in the room with him, König’s entire body jolts as if he’d been hooked up to a car battery.
“Scheisse!”
The mountainous man drops your panties like they’d bitten him, his mask falling back into place as his blue eyes widen into saucers filled to the brim with panic. 
“Ah—uh—G-guten morgen! I s-see that you’re still on laundry duty.” 
König hips shift. He’s clearly trying to hide the massive tree trunk in his pants from your line of sight. A cheeky little grin spreads across your lips. 
‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’
“I am.” You confirm, making your way towards him. König’s eyes follow you like a hawk, the subtle quick rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he’s still flustered. 
Stopping at the discarded panties on the floor, you reach down and pluck them between your fingers. The dark, wet stripe of where König’s tongue had been is clear for you both to see. The heat that pools in your gut as a response nearly has you jumping the man’s bones.
“What were you doing with my panties?” You softly ask, your gaze meeting König’s before lowering down to his cock.
The man freezes up like a statue.
“I—uh—I…”
He’s speechless, and you’re going to take advantage of that. Stepping forward, you close the distance between yourself and König. Once you’re close enough, you place your hand on the throbbing dick trapped in his pants.
König inhales sharply, steading himself against the dryer with his powerful hands. The wet little patch on his pants grows, and you feel him shyly push his cock against your hand just a little bit harder.
Cute.
Licking your lips, you start to palm him, the heat and size of König’s cock makes your heart race and your pussy throb. Being this close to him, you realize that the tip of your head barely even reaches the height of his clavicle. 
Fuck, he’s so huge and powerful. This man could absolutely bend you into whatever shape he wants. You’ve seen him in action many times before and you know full well that König is not a force to be messed with. And yet here he is, complete and total putty in your hands.
Then with a coquettish little wink, you reach for König’s pocket and slowly stuff your panties inside. 
“You know,” You whisper. “If you want to lick my pussy, König, all you have to do is ask.”
Before you even realize that’s happening, König’s massive arms encircle your waist and haul you into the air with absolutely no effort at all. 
Gasping in surprise, your breath is stolen from your lungs as König turns you both around, and after another quick flurry of movement you find yourself pinned against the top of one of the dryers. Pinned, secured, and at the utter mercy of König’s incredible strength.
Your pussy practically weeps.
“Can I then?”
You try and catch your breath, eyes locking with König’s blue ones. You realize that König no longer has a look of startled panic. Instead, those eyes of his are hooded, lust filled, and they are staring directly at you.
“W-what?” 
König’s scorching fingers brush against the band of your pajama shorts, teasingly grazing the sensitive skin of your navel.
“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”
You shudder, heat pooling between your thighs at the hungry growl following König’s words.
“Yes.”
Your shorts and panties are off you faster than you can blink. And you watch—totally breathless—as König lifts his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth before diving his lips and tongue between the folds of your pussy.
Your body arches, crying out softly as König’s stubbled chin and cheeks scratch pleasurably against your skin. His tongue immediately flexes then flicks against your clit before diving back down to your entrance to lap at your taste.
“Fuck,” König groans sensually, his hands snaking around your hips to grip and pull you closer—burying his face deeper into you. 
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”
You gasp as König’s fingers dig roughly into your flesh, his hot moans vibrating against your clit. Your hips will be decorated with bruises later no doubt, and that thought makes you purr with unabashed ecstasy.
“M-more!” You beg, your hips rutting against König’s mouth. “König, please don’t stop.”
“You want more?” König hums. “Gut. I’ll give you more.”
Those blue eyes flash to yours, and your pussy practically melts as he dives back down to tongue at your cunt—but not before giving you a little cheeky grin first.
God, he’s such a dork. An adorable, massive dork. And you are so head over heels for him.
Your thoughts scatter as König sucks and licks and laps at your flesh. His lips circling and sucking at your clit, his tongue caressing your folds, his breath hot as he whispers hushed praise against your skin in his native language. He feels so good. 
And you want to touch him. You’re so desperate to touch him. But you have to admit, there is something so incredibly sexy about having a man—this man—go down on you while he’s wearing his mask. You don’t even know what he really looks like, but at this moment you realize that you don’t even care.
“König,” You pant, thighs trembling as you get closer to your climax.
“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”
A statement, not a question.
“Y-yes.” You keen, arching up as he circles your clit once more.
König groans then sucks at your clit, rolling the engorged bud against his tongue as his right hand comes up to your cunt. You groan as he works to drench his fingers with the slick between your folds.
“Need to have something inside you, ja?” He probes your entrance with his thick fingers. “Want to squeeze down on me as you come?”
“Please!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as that powerful wave of pleasure crests—on the verge of crashing and pulsing through your body like a storm.
“Yes! König, pleeeease!”
And as König’s sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, you feel him smile against your cunt.
“That’s my good girl. Come on my fingers, häschen.”
König pumps his thick digits deeper inside you, stroking along your walls and lapping at your clit with such force that your body has no choice but to succumb to your orgasm with a ferocity that has you seeing stars. 
Your release rips a high pitched cry from your throat as your back arches and you writhe against König’s hands and mouth. You can faintly hear him curse under his breath, moaning brokenly as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and laps up every drop of your release like a man starved. 
“That’s it.” He whispers with reverence. “So pretty when you come in my hands, leibling.”
König takes his time helping you ride out your high, his mouth not leaving you until the last of your pleased little shivers leaves your body. Then, he pulls away, licking his lips as he lets his mask fall back down again.
“König,” You mewl, the thrumming pleasure in your body still burning strong as you reach for the front of his pants. 
“I want your cock.”
The massive man groans, his blue eyes shutting tight in an effort to restrain himself. You palm at him, desperately wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours. You want to know what it feels like to be filled up to the brim with him.
But König shakes his head.
“We’ll have time for that later.”
“But—”
The feeling of König’s fingers pressing up against your pussy once more interrupts your sentence.
“You’re very small here, leibling.” König coos. “We’ll have to take our time preparing you to take my cock.”
A debaucherous little shudder courses through your body at his words. Patience is a virtue they say. But right now, it feels a little more like torture. 
You’re about to argue with König, when suddenly a resounding knock bangs against the laundry room’s door. Your bodies freeze like a deer in headlights as you both hear one of your superiors angrily calling your name. 
“Hey! Are you in there? What is this hoodie doing out here and why is the door locked? Open this door immediately!”
You and König stare at one another.
Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today. 
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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hi babe! was wondering if you could write something abt hotch + reader having their daughter’s first birthday and all of the team is there and it’s so cute and we get big brother jack.
maybe it including light bickering between them but it’s so clear they love each other so much still and it really is just pointless bickering. something fluffy for sure.
up to you! i trust your wonderful writing , thank u bunches !
- 🕷️ [is this anon emoji taken yet? oops if it is!]
take the bench
AHH that's so adorable 🥹 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, domestic banter <3 and aaron being very dad <3
"are you kidding, look how cute!" you exclaimed, holding up the little outfit for all to see. your daughter's tiny hands immediately made a grab at it. "this is perfect for spring."
"after two boys, i can't express enough how fun it is shopping for a girl." jj gushed, resting her chin comfortably on her hand. "new section of the store unlocked."
all had gathered for baby girl's very first birthday, and it's been quite the eventful afternoon. lively conversations, a plentiful spread of food, cake on the horizon.
currently your daughter was sat comfortably on your lap, while you orchestrated the whole present-opening extravaganza.
at her young age, she could pull the tissue paper out of the gift bags as instructed, you and jack helped with the actual paper ripping as needed. whether it was you tearing off a starter piece, or jack proudly fulfilling his big brother duties - simply unwrapping it entirely himself and excitably showing his sister what she had received.
and meanwhile, aaron had the most dad job: trash bag duty. it was right up his alley naturally, being sure to punctually collect the scraps of paper before they touched the ground; preventing a mess at all costs.
which ultimately, led up to a new game.
"jack," aaron grabbed his son's focus, holding the bag open and jack caught on instantly. he grinned, balling up and throwing the tissue paper in hand in aaron's direction.
it started off gentle; quiet cheers when jack made the shot, not to mention the growing smiles on both ends. but then it soon turned into them firing off at each other, a bit too aggressive in the constraints of the living room. jack's laughter heightened with each throw, and henry even began to join in from time to time.
while still enamored by the gifts, all thanks to her brother and father's volume, baby girl's attention was quickly drawn to them. she let out a high pitched squeal every time wrapping paper flew over her head and through the air, attempting to wiggle her way off your lap.
as much as you loved aaron and jack carelessly enjoying themselves, and the addictive giggles emitting from your daughter, you also didn't want to take the focus away from everyone's generous gifts. they had spent time, and money, and deserved the proper recognition in return.
"aaron." you warned lightly, raising an eyebrow when his gaze shot to yours - a silent, but loving nonetheless, quit it.
"alright bud," aaron caught the last makeshift ball from jack with his hand, shoving it into the trash. "take the bench. the ref is giving me that look."
"but dad-"
"you heard me. and your mother."
jack let out a small whine, but promptly complied. he returned to the stack of his sister's presents, shifting through and looking for the next one to give her.
"for someone on clean up duty, you sure are making quite the mess." you teased once you caught aaron's eyes again, jack placing the next gift in front of you, "a larger one, if i may add."
"mess isn't in my vocabulary." aaron quipped right back, a delightfully smug look on his face. "you shouldn't be the one talking."
you cocked your head to the side, comically, "oh?"
"who's side of the closet is currently exploding?"
"who's sock drawer has seen better days?"
"the parents are fightingggg." derek stretched out his voice, murmuring humorously under his breath and nudging penelope with an elbow. while the soft tone, his statement was for all to hear.
now, it was your turn to (lightly, as to not jostle baby girl) chuck a ball of wrapping paper at him. derek ducked, barely, laughing loudly as he straightened his posture back upright.
"good try, but not good enough mamas. you gotta work on your aim."
"see, i'm not making a mess." aaron teased as he came near to grab it off the carpet, taking a detour as well to give your lips a quick peck. "you have that title perfectly under control, darling."
you playfully rolled your eyes, a smile dancing its way onto your lips. aaron couldn't resist the sight, kissing you once more. "oh bite me, hotchner."
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wizardwomenwisdom · 1 year
Text
steve and eddie pre-season 4 doing divorced parent swaps of dustin after hellfire meetings.
at first, when steve hears dustin’s becoming friends with eddie, he doesn’t really care. it’s not his business, honestly, and if his friendship with robin’s taught him anything it’s that cliques in high school mean so little.
it’s only when dustin’s mom pulls him aside one day, when he drops dustin off, that he begins to worry. because dustin’s the last on the list of hellfire members to get dropped off in eddie’s van, and there aren’t seats back there, and honestly eddie’s driving is bad on a good day.
so at first, steve offers to start driving dustin home from the high school. and the way dustin acts, well, steve feels like he just offered to take out an armed russian guard again. after a bit of arguing, he gets to the bottom of it: dustin likes hanging out with everyone on the ride. and since the way to his place passes the closest micky-d’s, eddie and garath always take him to get dinner.
so they make a deal: steve’ll meet them at mcdonald’s, pick dustin up, and take him home so his mom stops stressing. it’ll be a quick weekly hand off.
only every friday, when he pulls into the lot, eddie’s standing outside waiting with a few sarcastic quips. steve and he almost always argue about dustin while dustin finishes eating (“if it were a sports car you wouldn’t give a shit about seatbelts” “that’s why i don’t drive a fucking sports car to pick him up, dick.”) (“you’re late.” “i had a date.” “and he has a bed time.”) (“i get that your campaign is important, but he has a c in latin right now.” “i can’t make him do homework if he doesn’t want to.” “you most certainly can.”)
the first time robin comes with him, she spends the whole ride to the hendersons giggling. when dustin’s finally out of the car, steve turns in the driver’s seat and crosses his arms.
“out with it, buckley. what’s so funny?”
she blinks twice, and then starts laughing again. “what’s the custody agreement look like between the two of you?” she manages.
“what?”
“do you not realize it?”
“realize what?”
“you and eddie ‘the freak’ munson have spent the last three months doing a quintessential divorced parent drop.”
“wait, wait-“
“the arguing? the mcdonald’s parking lot? the weird pseudo-flirting?”
“i do not flirt with eddie.”
“does that make me dustin’s shitty step-mom?”
“robin!”
“oh my god.” she’s laughing so hard at this point that she can’t breathe.
steve shifts back into the driver’s seat. he doesn’t say anything until they’re back on the road, and robin calms down, and his face is sufficiently red. finally, he manages a “fuck you, buckley.” which starts robin into another laughing fit.
steve’s extra aware of how eddie calls him sweetheart next time they meet up.
edit: wrote a fic of this lowkey.
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euovennia · 1 year
Note
headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)
anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3
pt. 2
fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:
let's get one thing straight
becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task
while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend
the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone
i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself
and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone
but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack
cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before
naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave
but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare
think 👁️👁️
he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him
it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"
to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)
but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."
he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"
he does not spit it out
from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him
the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him
these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking
he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it
and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own
and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is
so what does he do?
he tries to block you out
it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity
and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)
and the two of you become quite chummy
well
as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost
instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you
it's a surprise
a delightful one
but still a surprise
his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is
despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts
so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold
it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!
anyway
simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic
you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it
he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off
he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover
but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself
maybe having a friend isn't all that bad
and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue
until one day you don't show up
while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now
you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry
even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?
but you don't show up the next day
or the next
and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry
and a little sad and worried
but mostly angry
who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)
if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face
he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room
he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you
but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks
you got yourself sick
tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you
which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine
you nearly cry in your haze of sickness
you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much
ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship
it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days
but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday
which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks
but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"
and most times you say yes
but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)
but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free
gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man
when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary
like
imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling
i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway
it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it
like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in
and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand
cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."
then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot
it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you
especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission
you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment
seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?
and honestly?
you're not quite sure yourself
you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to
maybe one day you'll ask him yourself
maybe you won't
doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend
even if he doesn't refer to you as the same
he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same
regardless
you two are very much attached at the hip
what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person
he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem
soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him
gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door
price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out
it's sweet really, the friendship you have
it warms your heart thinking about it
and it warms his too
even if he won't admit it
he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to
because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend
and he's glad it's you
:)
6K notes · View notes
hanasnx · 12 days
Note
b.....baby daddy...... baby daddy gojo.....
“ARE WE DATIN’? ARE WE FUCKIN’? ARE WE SOMETHIN’ IN BETWEEN THAT?” — satoru gojo.
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MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | dom satoru | established relationship | explicit sexual content | p in v | daddy kink | size difference | lactation references.
BABY DADDY!SATORU GOJO has a severe lack of boundaries, but in his defense he’s always been like that. Before the pregnancy, before you found out the news, before you were dating him, it’s all the same. He doesn’t see the need for it and there are times—especially now—when it’s simply inappropriate in the highest form.
“You ready to go, kiddo?” he asks, perky with a big grin as he eyes his son through his eye wrappings. The boy nods determinedly, bounding away while his backpack that’s too big for him weighs him down. For a second, he watches him run off to spend the weekend with his dad, and you observe him do it with a comfortable smile on your face.
He catches you, but instead of teasing you about it, he shoves a thumb over his shoulder. “Can’t believe that came outta you.” he jokes, and you nod along, aware to just go with his little quips until he decides to leave. “You look great.” He gestures to your form, head-to-toe, and you roll your eyes at his attempt to flatter you like the other moms do. How they dote on you to tell you you’re so lucky that you’re back to your old body after a baby. Some change permanently. “You been working out? Seriously.” he continues on, and you catch him when he slots into you, wrapping arms around each other in a familiar side-hug. His hand feels big on your back as he strokes it.
“Oh, Satoru, stop it.” you respond, devoid of conviction. It’s been years since your son was born, and it’s been a while since you and Satoru had to part ways, yet he talks to you like nothing’s occurred. Like you’re still friends, like you’re still lovers. He squeezes you and you playfully push him off. “Now get outta here, he’s practically bouncing off the walls to spend time at Dad’s.” You gesture to your son, who trips in his excitement, only to pick himself up just as quickly to keep running aimlessly.
“Would’ja look at that. Tough kid, just like his momma.” Satoru muses, and you scoff through your nose as he faces you, sticking his tongue between his teeth. “You got a goodbye kiss for Daddy?”
You sigh, resolved, and roll your eyes again. He’s so full of it. You concede anyway, innocently offering your lips to him.
You should’ve remembered that when Satoru gets an inch, he takes a mile, leaning down to meet your gift with pliant lips. At first, it’s chaste as expected, but he tilts his head. That arm around you traps you against him, and you make a noise of distress when he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue in. It’s not supposed to go that far, yet he continues, slithering his tongue over yours like he’s done a thousand times before, and the sicko actually sends a pleasurable tingle down your spine. Gathering your bearings, arching away from him, you shove at his chest, freeing yourself. “Satoru!” you chide, and he snickers at you. You’ve kissed him hello and goodbye before, completely respectful and quick. Pecks, really. This was a full-blown french, and you eye him incredulously.
“Is Mommy and Daddy getting back together?” the slurred words of your son can be heard, and the two of you face him as he peers at you two with wide eyes.
“Look what you did! You confused him.” you admonish in a hushed tone, hitting the chuckling Satoru as he downs the steps of your front door to join his son. “Make sure to explain yourself to him, Satoru.” you iterate, shifting your weight to your hip as your cross your arms.
“I will.” he replies in a tune, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. He idles a second, side-eyeing you over that shoulder slyly. “Mommy.” Your narrow your eyes at him with a shake of your head, but he merely continues on. “See you Monday~!” he adds in a much more lighthearted tone.
Monday couldn’t come fast enough but you didn’t know that after Satoru dropped your son off at school, he was gonna pay a little visit to you. You especially didn’t know what that visit entailed, you didn’t know you’d jump at the opportunity to scold him for the stunt he pulled, only to jump at the chance to get more. Things are hard lately, it’s lonely being a single-mom. Even though Satoru’s involved as he can be, it’s not like you get time for a dating life. He’d shown clear interest in you a couple days ago, shoving his tongue back in your mouth where it hasn’t been for months, now he’s shoving his cock where it hasn’t been for the same.
“Actin’ like you missed Daddy.” he remarks with that self-satisfied grin you wish you could smack off. He’s fucking with you while he screws you for real, that cock you miss so much hollowing out your insides.
“Cut the shit, Satoru, and just fuck me already.” you demand, fisting the covers to your bed as he’s got you on all fours.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking.” he replies, a leisured pace to his hips as his hands clutch the plush of your hips. To rush him, you back up on him until the sounds of skin on skin fill the room. He doesn’t wait for you to answer him. “Why not make another one?”
“Sato, quit playing around—“
“No, I mean it.” he insists, that signature grin stretching onto his features as his hands clamp down on your flesh. He inclines forward, driving into you at a reckless pace that causes a choked sound to emit from your throat. “C’mon, think about it.” he says just as your brain begins to fog from a fat cock shoving its way through your pussy. “We could make another one. We make such cute kids together, you know?” Your spine’s arch is so low it aches as his strength overpowers you, squeezing your eyes shut while he fucks you hard. “We’d be doin’ the world a favor. ‘Sides, you’ll look cute again all filled up with my cum.”
You whine, burying your face in the mattress as you claw the sheets. The pain and pleasure between your legs makes a mess, dripping down your thighs as he hits it from the back.
“Tits all swollen with milk. You remember when I drained some of it for you?” The memory bubbles up mixed emotions within you, sighing into the covers. “Drank it all, ran down my chin, they were so sensitive, always making little noises while I sucked on your nipples. Don’t be shy, baby, I know you liked it.”
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forsworned · 9 days
Text
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CASUAL ft. FWB!JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH
Warnings: Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, FWB, Angst to Comfort
Author's note: Because Soap brainrot, that's all
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Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out Is it casual now?
The death grip you have on his mohawk as he sloppily eats you out with such vigor is making your legs shake so hard as you climax for the third time in the backseat of his truck. A gentle slap and a tender kiss to your clit after he's done supping you up and then he's adjusting himself in his trousers to make himself a little more comfortable under the restricting material.
"I gotta go now." He breathes, rubbing your bare thigh and you shiver at his touch. He always had to go. And honestly you could feel your heart dropping to your stomach as he flashes you that casual, boyish grin.
You only nod as you recollect yourselves and climb back to the front seats. Your heart on your sleeve as he pulls at your place and you're turning to him with a bashful smile. His baby blue are distant but he gives you a warm, good-natured grin as he rubs your thigh.
"Good seein' ya, lassie." He points his chin to the door as a gesture for you to hit the road in the most "polite" way possible.
You were no stranger to Johnny's detached ways. He was an avoidant at best when got his and he was sending you on your way to do whatever it is that you do before he hits you up again with a, "You up?" text.
Ugh.
"Dude, you deserve better." Your friend shakes her head at you as she pinches at a fry and pops it into her mouth.
"Honestly, he's a fucking asshole. He should be on his knees asking to be your man, not just the backseat of his truck." Your other friend chides, but it's lost on you. Their voices drown out as you peer over at your buzzing phone.
"You free tonite, lassie?"
"Don't" They quip at the same time, but it's tossed to the backlogs of your mind when you rush home after your hang out.
He's already there leaning against your doorway, swinging his car keys between his fingers as he lustfully gazes down at you. And in no time he's jovially, hungrily taking your face between his stout, calloused hands and kissing you passionately, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds into you. And you can't take it anymore, you want him. You want him so fucking bad and you didn't care if it was casual. Or whatever bullshit, avoidant bullshit he was feeding you.
You wanted him, craved him. You waste no time pulling aside your panties as he merely unzips his jeans to free his hard, girthy cock and presses it between your succulent, dripping folds, and his thick brows are furrowed together in euphoria. He casts a small glance down at you to make sure you're all right as he pushes himself deeper into you. It's a pleasant burn as he stretches you out, and you welcome it because fuck, it feels so fucking good when he's filling you up, but when he's done emptying himself out you're hollow once again as he's zipping his jeans back up.
He adjusts his brown leather jacket and gives you a wink and kiss to the cheek before he's on his way out.
And you almost feel like crying when he's gone. Just the remnants of his cologne and splooge still left on your linen sheets.
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?
And then you're at the grocery store, picking out what bouquet would be the prettiest as your centerpiece, and feel a pair of arms wrap around you, a steady kiss to the cheek, and a rumbling Scottish accent in your ear, "Hey, sexy."
You visibly melt at his touch and he loves the way you're wrapped around his finger. Addicted to how pliant you are for him in every conceivable way.
"Ey, Johnny, ye gonna introduce me?"
And you both freeze at the voice. An awkward laugh escapes his chest as he's moving away from you and see a woman who adorns strikingly similar features to him.
"Ma, this is..."
"[name]." You smile that glorious smile of yours and for a second it's got Johnny kinda dazed. He's blinking out of his stupor, but something about the way you shake his moms hand and so effortlessly talk to her stirs something in him. A side he's never bothered to explore because he was waaaay too busy exploring your insides.
"Ye should come t' our house in Long Beach. We're havin' a wee, friendly get-together. Bring a pal, even." Her accent is thicker and even less coherent to your ears than Johnny's is so it takes you a second to decode what she's saying. And suddenly your face lights up and--uh, oh, Johnny's in trouble now.
Because she's smacking him across the head with her rolled-up wad of weekly ads that she picked up from the market and scolding him for not telling her about you.
"Aye, Johnny, I knew what ye're up to. She's a braw lassie. Get yerself sorted!" She spews as he opens the passenger seat door for her, rubbing the back of his head. You almost feel bad for him as you watch him get reprimanded by his mother from your car. But it's almost a little too embarrassing that you could tell what the conversation was about.
And he's trying his best not to be a dickhead when you do actually show up at the party, but you're lighting the room up with every step as you're being engaged and thrown into a cacophony of banter and laughter. And you're actually so fucking funny? Like, really funny, like he's keeling over and clutching his stomach funny and it's not just because of the persistent buzz of his ale.
You're witty and sexy and downright fucking gorgeous, especially when the sea breeze picks up and sends your hair back a little and it's like a slo-mo in those romcoms Johnny was forced by his mother to watch when he was growing up. And how could he forget about how gentle you were when you're speaking to the wee ones. Weaving wildflower crowns and plaiting hair as you coo at them so maternally. And the cheeky little grins you would have on your face as you whisper little nonsensicals to them, and melodious giggles that follow.
Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck.
Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends
But then you're heaving after your second orgasm, he's still pounding away at you and there's a different look in his eyes as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He's overstimulating your clit and telling you what a sweet girl you are for him and that sends you over the edge and he's pulling out to cum all over your belly in hot white spurts.
Another kiss to your forehead before he gets up to what you think is him getting a towel to clean you up but he's lifting you over his shoulder in one swift movement and you're giggling all the way over to the shower. And then there's another round of deep, thrusting into your a-spot against the cold shower tiles until you're rolling your eyes back and begging for him to let you cum.
And that release is something else and he's smiling at you with his teeth latched between his lips, soaked dark lashes that frame his pretty cerulean blue eyes that send you into a trance. Honestly, heart eyes motherfucker because that's exactly how you would describe yourself in that moment as you gaze at him. He's just too damn pretty for words.
And how gentle he is when he's helping you clean off, but his presence is stripped too quickly for your liking. He's toweling himself down and grabbing his boxers as he puts his clothes back on, and you can only stand there studying him from the shower. He's leaving again and your heart was sinking.
But then you're hearing his voice, and you peep you head out just a bit to catch the conversation.
"Girlfriend?" He laughs, "not even close, mate."
And you could almost just disappear down the drain. You felt humiliated as you swamp out the rest of the exchange under the din of the hot water hitting your eardrums.
"She's mare like wifey material." He chuckles, thumbing through his camera roll in the little album he's titled, "Bonnie <3".
It's pictures he's collected over the past year of the both of you, some candid, (a lot) some in bed, and a ton from the night at the beach house. You were truly so beautiful and Johnny was getting caught up in you and he was no longer fighting it.
And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space
But you're getting fed up when you're in the middle of movie night and Johnny decides it's the best idea to watch Good Will Hunting. And it's the scene where Will and Skylar are breaking up and it's tearing you up inside when you see Johnny get a bit misty-eyed. You can't help yourself. You reach for the remote and pause it before, turning to him with anger and frustration in your eyes. And he's reaching out for you to calm you down with a flummoxed gaze, but you're refusing his touch and comfort.
And Johnny is sent home with his tail between his legs, speeding down the highway as he blasts Johnny Cash and attempts to suppress the earlier occurrence. It's unpleasant. The feeling that's settling into his chest and it feels tight.
He pumps the brakes. Hard.
And he's reversing in the middle of an intersection, cars are honking, people yapping at him but it's white noise as he's racing back to your place.
And with his heart in his hand, he's thumping urgently at your door and it feels like a millennia before you're opening it.
Tear-stained blood-shot eyes, disheveled hair in his Scotland flag embroidered hoodie he misplaced a month ago. He stares at your sniffling, crumpled form. Oh, how could he have done this to such a beautiful woman?
"I was lookin everywhere fer that hoodie." He says softly. His eyes are glossy as he blinks down at you, half smile and all.
You peer at the hoodie and then up at him. "What do you want? The hoodie? Here."
You begin to take it off but he's shaking his head and pulling it back down especially when he realizes you have nothing on underneath and he would be baring you out to the world. He heaves himself inside and you're scrambling against his arms, trying to push him out but of course, Johnny outsizes you by way too much to even make him move. He's holding you by the waist, leaning his forehead against yours as he dabs at the tears in the corner of your eyes.
"Y're so beautiful, [name]." He murmurs.
You're watery eyes, ream at his words. He had never said that to you before and your heartstrings are being pulled in every direction.
"What...?"
He kisses your cheek so tenderly and you feel like your ascending, "I said, y're beautiful, [name]. 'n' I wish I told ye that earlier."
You gaze down at his shoes not wanting to meet his eyes but he lifts your chin and meets your lips with the softest kiss he's ever bestowed upon you. It was so chaste yet so ardent and it made your heart skip a beat.
"I don't understand." Your thoughts are racing at this point and he can see it in your eyes. How absolutely head over heels you are for him and he was too much of a dickhead to really acknowledge it, how utterly striking you were, how perfectly imperfect you were. Going out of your way for him and fuck, he did not deserve it. Not then and maybe not even now, but realizing what a catch he has in his literal palms, he doesn't want to let go. And he will do anything to make up for it.
"'m sorry, hen. Never should have treated like ye were rubbish. Ye should be cherished 'n' protected." He brushes the hair out of your face and it is a painful revelation standing there in front of you with his heart on display and he's wondering how you were so brave to be doing it baring it out for him every time. And still, he would reject it like the bastard he was. Refusing to let you in when all you wanted was to be preserved, served, and loved.
"Johnny, I--" You croak out, tears cascading down your cheeks and you're looking back down at the ground, but he gently cups your cheeks.
"No, I love you, [name]. An' if ye let me, 'll do everythin' an' anythin' to make it up to ye. Ye were always there f'r me, an' it's about time I return it."
He shakes his head, wiping away his eyes. "Damn, 'm pure shite at this, but I hope ye can forgive me."
But as warm as your heart was, you have to stand firm. Johnny had hurt you in so many ways so, it wasn't going to be easy for you to just say yes. "You really hurt me, Johnny..."
"I know, I know, but 'm a man of action an' 'll do anythin'." He's pleading and to say that it isn't satisfying as fuck to see this beautiful, brawny man that you've been fucking for the past year groveling for you, was simply a lie.
"Ye gettin' off to this?" A smile graces his lips and you try to hold back, but you can't help but smile back at him.
Everything is so infectious about Johnny and it kills you.
"Fuck you." You breathe out, running a hand through your hair.
And he can't help but attack you with kisses and lift you up before crushing you under his weight as he lays you out on your mattress. Giggling like a maniac you remember to compose yourself even if it felt like the surface was breaching. There's a pause and you're both gazing into each other's eyes as you intertwine fingers, and Johnny is kissing you again, but it's different. It's really full of love and admiration.
He sighs in content for a moment before withdrawing and peers down at you. "S'what d'ya say? Gimme a chance?"
You cock a brow and smile at him. "You really are in no position to ask me."
"But..." "I'll sleep on it."
He's beaming at you now and you're totally getting flustered under his gaze. He wasn't going to let you slip away this go around.
"Deal."
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months
Note
Hi love ❤ could you maybe write something for the Mini lando Series,maybe where reader does Grocerie Shopping with Aiden and Lando stays at home with Caleb. And while they are shopping some man flirts with reader and Aiden is like THATS my mom and she only loves my daddy. And then he tells lando what happend when they are home. And lando is jelous but thinks its funny how People still trie to hit on reader even with Baby and ring on her finger.
A/N: pffffft love this, Aiden totally has his dads sass. Aiden is about 5 and Caleb is 2. This happens before you become pregnant with your 3rd child Daniel William Norris.
Warnings: Fluff and Angst, yep that's right it's not always going to be sunshine and roses, slight crude language and joke
Mini Lando Series Masterlist
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"Just, call if you need anything okay?" You ask Lando, about to run to the grocery store he waves you off. "What? Think I can't take care of my own son?" It's a teasing comment but with a tiny bite.
Taking a deep breath you have to remind your self to remain calm to his comment. "Lando, you're a capable father, I'm just saying-" You stop pursing your lips. "Whatever, forget it. Aiden! Baby, come on we're leaving!" Aiden runs down the hall smiling.
He loved going to the store with you, Caleb was about 2 and now able to talk and run around so Aiden didn't get much peace. And at 5, he was already an old man with Lando's mouth to boot.
"I'm ready! Bye daddy." Lando crouches, kissing Aiden on the cheek. "Be good for you Mom or I won't be taking you karting. Understand?" Aiden has gotten into karting, nothing serious yet. But he was a natural talent and it started to worry you.
That's why there was so much tension between you and Lando recently. "Yes, sir. I'll be good for Mom." Running to the garage, leaving you and Lando alone. "We'll talk later." Is all Lando says, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and off to check on Caleb.
""Sure." You mumble, wanting to shake off the fog in your brain. You wanted a good day with your son and fighting with your husband wasn't going to damper that. "Mama! Come on!" Aiden yells, hurrying you to the car.
Opening the door, you help him in, strapping him into the booster seat. "Is Daddy mad?" Fingers fumble slightly with the last buckle at his question you look up. "No, baby. We're just having an adult conversation. He's not mad at you, I promise." Aiden nods, his question quickly forgotten by him but not by you.
The drive is relatively nice as you park, going over the rules again with Aiden who just nods saying "yes mom". Running into the store he grabs one of the mini buggies, making sure to copy you. The two of you giggle and talk about his karting.
Not even noticing as a man approaches you until he grabs something off the top shelf for you. "Here you go gorgeous." The guy smiles, you give a tight lip one taking the box of pasta from him. "Thanks." Aiden staring at the guy, wondering what he was doing.
"You're welcome. Can't turn down a stunning woman like you now can I? What kind of person would I be?" He chuckles moving closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. "One who isn't my daddy." Aiden's voice has the guy looking down, you hiding a smile as you turn.
"Excuse me little guy?" The man shocked at the little kids quip. "It's not little guy, my name is Aiden. You're not my daddy, and the only one to call Mommy pretty is Daddy." Aiden standing firm, staring the guy down. "Oh, well I don't see your daddy." Winking at you, now you're stepping in but Aiden doesn't stop.
"Daddy is busy at home with my little brother. He also drives super fast cars, the orange one. Unless you drive one like Daddy and Uncle Carlos or Uncle Pear you can't call Mommy pretty." The guy steps back, rolling his eyes. "Whatever." And walks off leaving you in shock.
"Aiden Carlos." Your voice calm, Aiden looks down. He knew he shouldn't have done that. His mommy could handle herself but...daddy always told him to protect mommy when he wasn't there. "Are you going to tell Daddy?" He knew he did wrong, talking back to a stranger unaware of what he could do.
"No, you will." Sighing you head to check out. "Mommy?" Aiden's voice soft as you two drive back. "Yes?" Aiden sniffles kicking his little feet. "I was just doing what Daddy does for you." He whispers, eyes looking in the rearview mirror you catch Aiden's head down.
"What do you mean baby?" Confused by that. "Daddy always protects Mommy, and Uncle Carlos said since I'm the oldest I have to protect you and Caleb when Daddy isn't here. I'm sorry." Sniffling again, reaching back you squeeze his little leg.
"My little boy. You don't need to do that. When you're bigger and older, sure. But you're still my little baby, it's my job to protect you." Aiden smiles, nodding as you pull into the garage.
The garage door opens, showing Caleb being held by Lando who laughs as Lando blows raspberries on his stomach. "Mama!" Caleb giggles, Aiden jumping out and running inside.
"Something happen?" Lando asks, you nod. Lando just nods sucking in his cheeks placing Caleb down. "I'll go talk to him." Caleb carrying light bags of groceries inside happy to help.
Lando walks to his eldest son's room, poking his head in not seeing Aiden he goes to second best spot. "Bubs?" Lando calls pushing open his office door, Aiden staring at all the trophies, helmets, and pictures.
"I thought I told you to be good?" Lando sighs, crouching to be eye level with the boy sitting in the desk chair. "I was, but a stranger was calling Mommy names and I protected her just like you and Uncle Carlos always say to do." Aiden whines, for such a little boy he sure did have mature emotions.
Anger fuels Lando hearing this, he has to take a couple deep breaths before asking his next question. "What kind of names, bubs? It's okay you can tell me." Lando comforts him, Aiden's curls bouncing back to place from Lando's fingers.
"They kept calling Mommy pretty, and doing what you do." Lando blinks, the anger shaping into jealousy. A guy was hitting on you? With his ring on your finger and in front of his child? Okay, this could be worse.
Lando having to talk himself down. "Aiden, you have to let Mommy handle that until your bigger, understand?" Aiden nods, staring at a picture of you, Aiden, and him holding a trophy. "Can we still kart?" Lando smirks, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, go get dressed." Aiden running off.
Lando stands, taking in the pictures. First date, Wedding, His first WDC, your entire life together was here. Yet he was still feeling jealous? He hated it. Walking back, he sees Caleb watching bluey holding his stuffed koala given to him by Oscar.
"Y/n?" You poke your head around the corner, Lando walks into the kitchen kicking the standout the door swinging closed. "A guy hit on you?" Voice calm, but even you could hear the lace of anger.
"Yes, but it was handled, by our 5-year-old. Apparently, you and Carlos have put in his head he's allowed to do that." You hiss, angry at the fact that your son could've been put in harm's way. "Y/n, that's not the point here, a guy hit on you." His temper fizzles out quickly as he laughs.
"What is so damn funny? This isn't funny!" You snap, pushing his shoulder as Lando just laughs. "This fucker hit on you, while you wear my ring. My child was next to you, and I'm here acting like a jealous teenager." He laughs harder shaking his head at his own actions.
"I felt threatened when I'm the one who married you, the one who is the father of two gorgeous boys. And," He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you into his chest. "The one who gets to fill you every night." You slap a hand over his mouth, feeling the smirk on your palm.
"Are you crazy! The kids could hear." Anger slipping too as you roll your eyes. "M swommy." Words muffled you drop your hand. "What?" "I'm sorry. About our fight recently and now, this. Just, ever since we had Aiden; I've been worried about your safety and the kids. Now I understand what Fernando and the others felt over their kids and partners." Lando wraps you in a hug.
"Lando, I love you. But, if you ever tell our child to do that again. I'm slicing your balls." Lando snorts shaking his head. "You love my balls to much." You shove him away as he laughs loudly.
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