#for the exact time of the month that my body is going to knock me out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaeyas-beloved · 7 months

Text

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

5K notes · View notes

cc--2224 · 1 month

Text

Asking For Help

Pairing: Platonic Tech & F!Reader

Summary: You decide to stay in bed to deal with the pain you're experiencing. The Batch notices and sends Tech to check on you.

Warnings: Reader kind of described as AFAB as fic deals with period pain. But other than that, pure fluff! It can 100% be platonic.

Word Count: 918

Notes: Does the Bad Batch understand anatomy? Probably. Was it more fun to make them panic? Absolutely. I mostly wrote this for me as I took the day off work for this exact reason 😂 no real proofreading.

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

The Marauder's cockpit seemed weirdly empty without you, and everyone noticed your absence. You hadn't been with Clone Force 99 for very long, but when you spend all your time with the same people for four months, they start to worry when you're not being as social as you normally would.

"Where is she?" Hunter finally asked, looking at the empty seat you normally occupied.

Wrecker shrugged, "I tried calling her this morning for breakfast but she didn't leave her room."

"Is it not obvious?" Tech asked, eyes not leaving his datapad. "She exhibits this behaviour roughly around the same time each month."

He thought he was giving everyone the answer, but their confused faces told him that he wasn't.

"She is mostly likely menstruating."

"In Common, Tech." Wrecker said.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, "She's on her period. It's not the end of the world."

Eyes turned back to Tech for an explanation, and he sighed.

"Do none of you pay attention to the anatomy manuals? People who are biologically female go through this process nearly every month. Their body prepares itself for an egg to be fertilized, but when it is not, it begins to shed the excess in the form of blood and uterine lining. Typically resulting in side effects such as; mood swings, pelvic cramps, lower back pain, and headaches to name a few."

Wrecker looked shocked, "And they do this every month? That sounds painful."

Tech shrugged, "I couldn't say, from my understanding, each person reacts differently."

"Shouldn't we check on her? Make sure she's okay?" Hunter asked.

"She does it every month with or without us, I don't see how now is any different." Crosshair pointed out.

"Yeah but, we're her friends, we should help if we can."

Wrecker looked back to Tech, "You know the most about it, you go see if she's okay."

Expectant looks all pointed in Tech's direction and he shook his head. "Fine, I suppose I could inquire after her."

Truthfully, Tech was also concerned for you, even though he had a vague understanding of what was going on. He found your presence soothing, and the Marauder seemed more cheerful with you around. And it was his nature to want to solve any problems that arose, so he wanted the chance to do that now.

He got up from his seat and walked toward the refresher to look for a hot compress and some painkillers so that he might actually be of assistance before cautiously walking toward your room.

He knocked quietly.

"...Yeah?" You croaked from inside the room.

"It's Tech, may I come in?"

You didn't answer immediately but then after a few seconds you spoke, "Door's unlocked."

He pressed the button to open the door before stepping in and letting it close behind him. He frowned slightly when he was you curled up on your bunk with your arms around your stomach.

"I take it I was correct then, you are menstruating."

"Yeah." You replied a little too harshly. "Did you need something?"

"It appears your absence went quite noticed this morning and the others are worried about you."

"So they sent you to check on me?"

He adjusted his goggles, "Well, even though I had suspected what the issue was, I suppose I was also worried."

You didn't say anything, but you moved slowly, creating room for him to sit down on your bunk, he sat on the edge.

"I have brought you a compress and painkillers, if you are interested. I have heard they help to alleviate any cramping and pain associated with it." He handed both to you.

You smiled at his gesture and took the painkillers first. "Thank you," you swallowed two of them down with water from the canteen beside your bunk, then you took the heat compress and hugged it to your stomach.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked, looking down at you.

You looked at him then looked at your pillow and shook your head.

"Very well, I will check up on you later then." He announced before standing up and walking toward the door.

"Wait.." You called out. He turned to look at you. "Can you stay.. with me?"

His expression went from surprised to a gentle smile, and he nodded. "Of course."

He walked back over to your bunk and returned to his seat on the edge.

"Can we- er... Can you hold me?" You asked, so quietly that he thought he might have misheard you.

"You'd like me to hold you?" He repeated.

His need for clarification caused blood to rise to your face in embarrassment.

"If-if that's okay, actually, nevermind I-"

But before you could finish your rambling, Tech crawled into the bunk next to you, holding you so your back was firm against his chest.

You sighed into him and closed your eyes as he began drawing idle shapes on the skin of your shoulder.

"Thank you, Tech." You repeated.

"You are welcome, but your gratitude is unwarranted. We are your friends, we want to help you. Anytime you need us, you do not need to be afraid to ask for help, no matter what ails you.”

You smiled once more. With the heat both from the compress and Tech pressed against you and the painkillers beginning to kick in, you felt yourself finally begin to drift off to sleep. Despite his protests, you were truly grateful to have friends who cared about you, no matter what was going on.

292 notes · View notes

carlsdarling · 11 months

Text

Homewrecker

Y/N being jealous and stealing Carl away from Enid. Bit more of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral, cheating

You've had a crush on Carl for a long time, almost six months to be exact, when Rick found you alone in a vacant building, took you to Alexandria and you met his son. You were immediately fascinated by Carl and felt attracted to him - by his beautiful blue eye, his swift movements, his badass attitude and the lovable character that stood in sharp contrast to it. Over and over you dreamed of seducing him, at night caressing and fingering yourself, moaning his name and burying your head in your pillow so Glenn and Maggie, who had taken you in, wouldn't notice.

You lost your virginity a while ago, and there really wouldn't have been anything wrong with just approaching Carl and checking out if he felt anything for you, too, but there was Enid. His girlfriend. You were so jealous of Enid that you could have screamed with rage whenever you saw the two of them together. When you caught them making out in the paddock, you wanted to snap Enid's neck.

At that moment, you decided that it was not possible to go on like this and that you would fight for what you so desperately wanted, Carl.

One night, when you knew Enid was on guard duty and Carl wasn't, you went to find him at his house. Rick opened the door. "Um, is Carl around?" you asked. In your hand you had a couple of comic books as an alibi.

"Yeah," Rick replied. "He's in his room."

You walked up the stairs and knocked until Carl called, "Come in." He was sitting on the bed, hastily adjusting his bandage when he caught sight of you. You didn't care about his scar, you thought he was gorgeous, sexy and charming even with it. Carl simply had a great charisma, and you were all the more envious of Enid. But now she wasn't here, and this was your chance. "Hi, Y/N," Carl greeted you in surprise.

"Hi," you said in a soft, seductive voice and approached him, letting one spaghetti strap of your white top slip off your shoulder as accidentally.

Carl blushed slightly. "What... what are you doing here?" he asked uncertainly as you sat down close to him so he could smell your perfume and feel your body heat.

"I was feeling lonely," you purred, making big bedroom eyes. "And I thought maybe you could help me." You licked your lips lasciviously.

"Help? With what?" Carl was obviously a bit dumbfounded in this regard, so you gently grasped his chin, turned his head toward you, and kissed him on the lips. They felt soft and a little rough at the same time.

Carl took a startled breath. "What are you going to do?" He seemed embarrassed, but at least he didn't push you away right now. That gave you encouragement.

"I like you, Carl," you confessed, "I like you a lot, actually, and I want to show you."

"But I'm with Enid," he protested demurely. His expression was difficult to interpret.

"And has Enid ever suck you off?"

He turned bright red and shook his head.

"There you go," you would breathe a series of kisses on his neck, making him groan softly. You'd show him you were better than Enid. "I want to do this for you. That and more. You'll like it, I promise. I want to feel you, Carl. I need you. I need you badly, every night I think about you." Again you kissed him, and this time he returned the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth before hesitantly pulling away from you again.

He obviously had qualms about cheating on Enid, but Carl also couldn't deny that he was already aroused; he was building a visible tent in his jeans, and his breathing was rapid and frantic as his cheeks reddened. He was so cute. "It... it has to stay between you and me, though," he murmured. "You must not tell Enid about this."

"You have my word of honor," you promised, and immediately you were starting to make out and caress each other, until finally your hands slid under Carl's shirt and you stroked his back demanding. He smelled nice, clean and a little bit of fresh sweat.

He slipped the shirt off and tossed it to the floor, and for the first time you saw his lean, lightly muscled torso, the fair skin, the small tufts of underarm hair, and the strip of soft dark hair that ran from his belly button down and disappeared into his boxers. The sight nearly drove you crazy; so you grabbed Carl by the shoulders and made him lie on his back, then undid his belt and also undid the buttons of his jeans to pull them down to his knees. Carl let it happen, his eyes half-closed, and there was a damp stain at his light grey boxers. His cock was at full erection and was clearly visible under the fabric.

You scattered wet kisses around his belly button until Carl began to moan softly, then you grabbed the edges of his boxers and pulled them down as well. His erection really sprang out, his tip glistened with moisture, and your eyes grew wide: Carl was definitely on the bigger side. His pubic hair was dark and slightly curly.

"Wait," he said hoarsely, sitting up and stripping off his jeans and boxers. Carl was now completely naked, whereas you were still clothed. "I want to see you naked too, Y/N," he sighed, fumbling with your top and bra. Without further ado, you took both off, exposing your breasts.

Carl looked at them ravishedly. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered and began to fondle them, making your nipples hard.

"Lick them, please, Carl," you begged, and he gently began to kiss your right nipple, encircling it with his tongue and sucking on it. You cried out in pleasure and were now finally ready for him, wet as sin, but wanted to give him head first.

Tenderly you kissed his length and then took his cock in your mouth. He didn't quite fit, but Carl moaned heavily and curled his fingers in the pillow, lifting his hips as you sucked gently, letting go of him briefly every now and then to kiss the insides of his thighs and his belly. "Please, keep on sucking," he murmured, stroking your head and supporting your movements with his hand until you suddenly let go of him. His cock was wet with your saliva, veins protruding.

Carl was already in a state of complete euphoria, writhing on the bed whimpering softly and begging you to continue. You took off your shorts and panties. "No, I want you to fuck me now, Carl," you whispered in his ear, leaning over him. He grinded his cock against your belly.

"I've never done this before," he confessed, embarrassed.

"Well, I have," you replied plainly. You were only a year older than him, but unlike him, you had already had some experience. "Do you have any condoms?" He nodded over to his nightstand, and you pulled an as-yet-unopened pack out of the drawer. Jealousy flashed through your mind, because surely Carl had made these preparations for his first time with Enid. Well, screw Enid, you thought. Carl took one of the condoms, tore open the wrapper, and placed it precariously on his cock. "Oh, let me do it," you said impatiently, pushing his hand away and putting the condom on him yourself.

He awkwardly tried to lie on top of you, but you beckoned him to stay on his back. "I want to ride you," you said breathless with desire before guiding his cock to your willing pussy. "Be careful at the beginning," you whispered into Carl's ear. "Very gently."

Inches by inches he penetrated you, his whole body tense with excitement. It was wonderful to finally feel him inside of you. Instinctively, he began to make soft thrusts, and you moved your hips synchronously with him. You immediately found a rhythm together, and both of your moans and sighs filled the room. "It's so good," Carl moaned. "You're so tight and hot." His thrusts were getting faster and faster, and he was going into ecstasy, forgetting everything around him. "Y/N, I'm... I'm cumming, I'm..."

"Me too," you said, leaning forward so he could pull you close as he now reared up and shot his load into the condom, moaning heavily. A loud scream escaped you as you also climaxed. You looked lovingly into each other's eyes and shared a long kiss before you dismounted from him.

Carl removed the condom, knotted it, and wrapped it in a Kleenex before dropping it beside the bed, then hugging you tightly. "That was wonderful," he murmured exhaustedly, pressing little kisses to your lips.

"Yes," you replied, "I have patrol in a minute. I have to go," you said regretfully a moment later.

"I don't want you to go," Carl pouted.

You gave him a kiss on the forehead and got ready to leave. "I have to though," you said, gathering up your clothes.

"Um, Y/N..." said Carl shyly. "Can we maybe do this again?"

You jammed your hands into your sides. "Depends," you informed him. "If you pick me and dump Enid, we can do it every day," you offered with a seductive glance in your siren eyes.

The next night, just as you were about to go to bed, Glenn called you to come downstairs. "You got a guest," he said, perplexed. "Carl's out on the veranda."

Carl looked toward you with a smile on his lips as you closed the door behind you. "I just broke up with Enid," he said, embracing you and immediately kissing you passionately. "I want to be with you."

You won.

#carl grimes smut #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl x enid #twd #the walking dead #enid #carl grimes imagines #carl fanfiction

553 notes · View notes

abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

Gonna request an Alpha!Natasha with pregnant!omega!reader ;) but the angsty part is that reader past relationship was with Wanda, but she cheated on her w vision they had a rough break up after 1 month of the break-up reader discovers that she's pregnant w Wanda's pup, she goes to Wanda to resolve the situation but wands doesn't assume the child saying it's not hers, afterwards reader goes full pissed off and crying to Nat bc she doesn't know what to do and Nat says that she's gonna help raise the kid Months go by, and they fall for each other, only to the both of them confess after the birth of the twin girls when the visits are allowed wanda comes in to see the twins and reader gets protective and starts growling at her while Nat is scenting marking both of the pup's and reader

Ending fluffy bc it's Christmas time

(The pup's name can be Slavic cultured)

My Omega

Pairings: Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x omega!reader, (past) Alpha!Wanda maximoff x reader

Word count: 2407

Warnings: ABO universe, pregnant reader, giving birth, cheating, angst, fluff, mentions of vomiting, think that’s all!

Summary: After you caught the love of your life, your alpha, cheating on you when you were pregnant, you left. Nat cared for you and took you in, caring for you the way Wanda never had. You couldn’t help but fall for her.

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Grabbing the test you walked back to you and Wanda’s shared room, your heart full of joy as your life would forever change. You opened the door without knocking, seeming as it was your room so you assumed there was no need to announce your entrance. The sight you walked in on made your heart full of joy turn to an aching pain. Betrayal. That’s what it was. You felt betrayed seeing Wanda on top of Vision, the two in bed making out. She gasped and got off of the man hearing you walk in.

“Y-Y/N..” Your head shook back and forth, trying to convince yourself this was some time of dream, a nightmare. Her hands rested on your arms, the stick dropping in the process. She looked down for a moment before registering what it was, leaning down to pick it up.

“Baby, what is this?” You walked backwards slowly, her trying to follow you.

“No! Don’t go near me, you cheating bastard!” She flinched lightly at your words but continued to look at you with pure shock.

“Is it mine? Are these pups mine?” She gripped your arm tightly before you could leave, making you whine out in pain. She removed herself from your body, looking down at the red mark in shame.

“Yes they’re yours! Unlike you, I don’t cheat.” You could see the anger in her expression start to boil, scoffing in your face.

“Oh really? Because you seem to be real close with Nat, wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked. Hey, maybe even it’s hers!” You fake laughed and ripped the test out of her hands aggressively.

“You’re fucking insane Wanda! You cheat on me and now you’re trying to also put the blame on me? What did I ever do to you?” At this point, Vision had already left. He must’ve gone through the walls like a coward. Nat was currently walking through the halls, planning on going to her room until she heard yelling. She knew it wasn’t her business, but when hearing her name she had to intervene. She stood close to the door, hearing every word filled with emotion. She could hear the hurt in your voice, the pain. And she could hear the anger in Wanda’s, she had no right. Even if Nat barely knew what was going on, she could understand by the words you two were shouting at one another. Wanda had cheated, Nat wishes she could say she was surprised. All of her sneaking around, it was suspicious. When she warned you, you only denied it saying she could never hurt you. But here she was, doing that exact thing.

She saw you run out of the room and stop in front of her, looking into her eyes with sorrow before continuing your voyage to your room. Wanda rushed out and made eye contact with the woman as well, a scowl marking her face. Nat considered going to your room, would you yell at her? Would you accept her caring nature? She decided to go with her guts and followed you, softly knocking on the door only for you to dismiss her. She didn’t give up though, she stayed there until you opened the wooden entrance and let her in.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t think it’s about what I need, what do you need?” You sighed and sat down on your bed, sitting criss crossed and codling your knees as support. She sat beside you and rested her hand upon your thigh, trying her best to soothe or comfort you. You grabbed the small tests and handed them to her, not being able to look at her shocked face.

“Oh. Oh, this- this is great! You’re going to have pups!” She said excitedly, only to remember why you were so down.

“But, not with Wanda?” You shook your head and tried your best not to let the tears flow once again, but when she cuddled you into her arms, you couldn’t stop it. You cried like a child into her shoulder while she whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“It’s going to be alright.”

“How do you know that? I just caught my partner cheating on me when I was going to tell her that I’m pregnant, with her fucking pups!” You exclaimed loudly, the fear and hurt in your voice evident.

“I know it’s going to be alright because I'm going to be with you the whole time. I’ll take care of all of your needs, it’s what you deserve, what you need at this moment.” You felt bad. This wasn’t her job yet she was stepping up and doing what Wanda could never.

“Nat, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m telling you that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t care if they’re not mine, I will treat them as though I’m their mother. I will show you and these little pups so much love, you’ll even reconsider ever having Wanda by your side.” She muttered the last few words jokingly, getting the first laughs out of you in the night.

“See! I’m already doing amazing, aren’t I?” You nodded and she chuckled lightly before helping you get into bed, the crying and screaming making you tired. She got a bottle of water and rested it on the nightstand for when you awoke, along with an Advil pill as she knew you’d have a headache soon enough. You fell asleep quickly and she admired your peaceful state, one that she hasn’t had the privilege of seeing for awhile. Nat made her way down to Fury’s office and explained your situation, requesting that you and her would not have to go on mission until a few months after the baby is born and you’re all recovered. He agreed, already planning for this day with each omega in the building.

The months went by quickly, Nat keeping her promise and making sure you were healthy and happy. Every craving you had, she got, even in the dead of the night. Whenever you were bent over the toilet puking, she’d hold your hair back and cradle you afterwards. She’d figure out anything that made you nauseous and threw it all away, banning the team from having it in the compound until after you’ve given birth. When the pups kicked for the first time, she was there crying gently and talking to them as if they could hear her, she liked to believe that they could. Every doctor's appointment, she was there holding you. During the gender reveal, she cried when finding out she’d have two little girls. She’d pretend that they were hers sometimes, it made her smile. Touching your stomach alone made all her worries disappear, knowing that they’d be here soon enough. She’d sing them lullabies, ones that her mother sang to her and Yelena when she was little. Whenever you two slept in the same nest, her arm would protectively wrap around your stomach. And when she slept alone, she’d toss and turn relentlessly. She knew she was falling for you, if anything, she has loved you since you were with Wanda. For the longest time, she tried to deny it, deny her feelings for you. She tried so hard, even going so far as to try and ignore you for weeks to months. But it was too hard, she couldn’t go a day without seeing your beautiful face. And when she heard about Wanda cheating, she knew that was her time to step in and be what she could never. She gave you time, let you adjust to the new heart break that Wanda left behind. But she wanted you to be hers once and for all, she wanted you as her omega, not anyone else. She wanted to mark you as her own, no, she needed to.

The moment your water broke, she went into action. It was terrifying, all the practice and training went to waste as she panicked. But she kept it under control, monitoring your contractions and getting you to the med bay as fast as possible. She didn’t trust hospitals, she wanted someone she knew to deliver your baby. You both agreed to give birth in the compound’s medical wing, it was faster and more efficient anyways.

You pushed and pushed, yelling at the doctors and even at Nat who was supporting your back and holding your hand. When the first baby started crowning, she moved to watch as tears escaped her, her pups were finally here. They were hers, she may not be related to them biologically, but they were still hers. The first was born, Alla. You both took months to decide good names but eventually figured the perfect ones out, Alla and Ania. They were Slavic cultured, Alla being a mix between Russian and Ukrainian meaning up while Ania meant grace. She held her baby like it was the last time, cradling her small face with her finger. The nurse took her and Nat prepared to help you push out the second, well, give you emotional support.

Not long after you got to hold your little girls, Alla in your left arm and Ania in your right. Nat leaned over your body and stared at the two with love in her eyes, she couldn’t believe it, her pups were finally here. Her little own family was together. The nurse soon took your bundle of joys into the other room while you were left there with Nat.

“Oh Y/N, you did amazing today, I’m so proud of you. You pushed out two little angels all by yourself, you did such a great job, baby.” You leaned into her touch, staring at her lips as she did the same.

“Y/N…”

“Please, I need this. I want you to kiss me, make me yours.” She complied and connected her lips with yours, it felt like heaven. The moment you both have been dreaming for finally happened, you were connected.

“C-can I mark you?” She asked in a low whisper, seemingly nervous for your response. You only nodded and she smiled before moving down to the junction between your neck and shoulder, biting and sucking the skin lightly. You moaned lightly as her saliva hit your scent gland, completely marking you as her own. She looked you in the eyes and gave you a teeth showing grin before resting her forehead against your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” You silently agreed with her before yawning, being quite exhausted after giving birth.

“Rest, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You let your eyes shut as sleep took over you. Nat moved a strand of hair away from your face before kissing your cheek softly.

After two days, you were finally able to take the pups. You both held them carefully and walked over to the team as they all excitedly held and cradled the baby as you two did not long ago. They all congratulated you before catching their eye on your neck, you put your hair in front of it nervously as a way to cover it up. You could see Wanda out of the corner of your eye glaring at you and Nat. As much as she wanted to hold the baby, you didn’t let her just yet. She ran upstairs, causing you to glance at her before Nat turned your attention back to your friends and now, family.

Later that night, you and Nat placed the pups in their cots and got ready for bed happily. Nat went to go grab a glass of water and a book she left downstairs when you heard a knock on the door. Opening it you were greeted by the sight of a teary-eyed Wanda.

“W-Wanda, what are you doing here?” She sighed and looked down but shot her head back up when hearing a soft giggle from Alla.

“I came here to see my pups, they’re not just yours and they sure as hell aren’t Nat’s.”

“Oh really? Weren’t you the one insisting that they were Nat’s when you cheated on me?” She tried getting through the door but you stopped her short, blocking her from seeing the two. She was about to forcefully move you until a loud growl-like sound came from behind her. Wanda turned to see who it was but was met by Nat’s angry glare.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her arms crossing against her chest. Wanda didn’t back down, she stood proudly and returned the look.

“I’m going to see my pups, that’s what I’m doing.” You speed walked towards the two and protected them from the women fighting at the doorway. They wailed heavily, making Nat look over at them in fear and protection. She pushed Wanda aside and carefully took Ania and Alla in her arms, kissing each of their precious little faces while rocking them back and forth. She whispered sweet words to the two as Wanda scurried off, muttering a small ‘fucking bitch’ under her breath. When the crying came to a stop, Nat settled them back down and let you lay down in the nest.

“Thank you Natty.” She smiled and laid beside you, peppering little pecks on your lips. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, the same way she’d do when you were pregnant.

“There’s no need to thank me, you know I’d do anything to protect our family.” You were so grateful for her, she never even got mad at you. She went from yelling at Wanda to holding you tightly, you were the only exception.

“Ijust want you to know how much I love and appreciate you, the little ones too. They’re going to grow up loving their momma and mommy, I bet they’ll like you more, you’ll spoil them rotten I know it.” Hearing you call her the pups momma made water leak from her green eyes. She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her from your last words, you were right. She would give those little angels anything they ever wanted and more.

“Oh baby, I’m going to love and cherish you forever, I love you so much.” She placed kisses all over your sweet face before speaking once more.

“Rest now, my little omega. I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.”

1K notes · View notes

sideeve · 11 months

Text

SELF CONTROL ⭑ MILES MORALES

⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .

miles morales x f!reader

part 1 — part 2

⭑ miles’ pov , cheating , normal spider-man violence , the spot , miles attempting to win reader back , major spoilers for atsv , arguing

miles’ pov

every thing was stressing him out. fighting with spot wasn’t helping either. while basically punching himself, he was trying to text his parents that he would be a little late.

“can we finish this later? i have a meeting with my parents!” miles yells, trying to web the villain to the wall.

“no! we cannot! i have to kill the thing that-wait! we’re not finished here!” spot attempts to wiggle out of the webs keeping him stuck.

“i’ll catch you later.”

with the spot “done”, miles finally had a moment to breathe. he got a message from you.

mrs. morales 💓 : miles. where r u? ur parents keep asking me and idk what to say😭

mr. morales 🕷️ : just tell them i’ll be there in a moment. had to pick up the cakes :)

he huffs.

everyone needed him at the exact same time. from juggling the responsibility as spider-man and being a boyfriend and son, school. he couldn’t do it all.

his hand slide down his face. “if only gwen were here right now. she’d know what to do.” he looks down at the boxes of cake in his hands before making his way to his apartment.

grounded. for two months. just because he couldn’t tell his parents that he’s spider-man. rage filled in his body. no one understood him. no one. but her.

fuck! he shouldn’t be thinking about her. he has a girlfriend! one that lives him to death too.

but him and gwen are just friends…right?

that thought leads him here. an inch of space left between him and gwen. he would make a mistake tonight that he would gravely regret.

“¡miles! ponte aquí ahora mismo.”

his mouth pulls him out of his trance he gasps out of shock. what the hell was he doing? why is he kissing someone else? where is his girlfriend? what is he going to do?

his eyes looked blown out. thoughts clouded his head, making him unresponsive. “i’m not going to call for you again.” the party fell silent, looking at miles in disbelief.

he didn’t even say a word to gwen nor his mom. he just ran as fast as he could (while also swinging) to you.

out of breath, he knocked on your door.

"hey babe. my mom wanted me to check on you. she said you left early." he lied. he just wanted to know if you knew what he did. "we're done. i can't be with a cheater."

fuck!

"baby. you don't understand-" "go!" you slammed the door in his face. he heard you sobbing behind the door. his heart broke.

what did he do?

he walked home like a kicked puppy. he lost the only one he loved. once he opened his house door, his parents stood in front of him, arms crossed and disappointed. "mama, i-" "no, go to your room. and make it 4 months."

he wasn't even upset, he understood why he was in this situation. he had hurt you. and there was no way to take it back.

cut to when miles meets miguel

"every spider person has lost someone close to them. that is what makes us who we are." miguel stands before miles, making him look small. the holograms of spidermen and women crouching over their loved one's dead bodies. then there was him. crouching over you.

"my canon event is my girlfriend dying?" "ex-girlfriend. and yes. i'm sorry miles. but this can't be changed." every ounce of rage when to his fists. "no! it can't be her! i gotta save her."

“miles. you know we can’t let you do that.” a disk slides under him, creating a force field around him.

“miguel! that’s enough!” the yelling from the spider society was overwhelming him. ontop of the fact that you are going to die.

in his arms.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader

524 notes · View notes

ironstrange1991 · 8 months

Text

Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The reader and Stephen are students at Kamar Taj and when she needs his help with her exams, Stephen makes her an indecent offer.

Word Count: 6,5k

Warnings: SMUT: Dubcon, hate sex (at least in the beggining), handjob, oral sex with male receiving, forced (?) deep throat, umprotected p n v, lost of virginity, mentions of pain and blood, forced (?) creampie.

A/N: It took me a while to finish this fic, but I'm very happy with the result. Hope you like it.

You had been a student at Kamar Taj for no more than a few months when the new guy arrived. You were in the hall and even served him tea at the time, then you left letting the Ancient One and Master Mordo speak to him. However, of course you were peeking behind the curtains listening to the entire conversation. You saw the disrespectful and absurd way in which he addressed the Ancient One and you also saw how she, with all her power and somewhat sadistic humor, put him in his place.

You spent that day studying the old books that Wong had recommended for you and as you did so you heard the incessant knocking on the door and the shouts of "Let me in" or "I have nowhere to go." The situation was funny at first because like the Ancient One, you also had a certain sadistic side, but after hours of that incessant whining you started to feel sorry for the man. He was kinda cute.

When he was allowed to join you and become a student of the mystic arts you decided that you would not make his life easy. Whenever you could, you teased him for being the new guy, for being the guy whose hands could barely conjure mere sparks. During training in the courtyard, The Ancient One always had the two of you train together and you didn't take it easy on him. You might be small, but you were agile. He on the other hand was tall, had a well defined body, not too thin, very muscular, but was extremely slow. Apparently all the years of being an arrogant rich guy had made him soft and you liked seeing him lying on the floor whenever you got the chance.

"Y/n, no messing around. Grab your relics and get into fighting stance." Master Mordo instructed in one of the training afternoons and you chose one of the relics, but when the new guy went to get his, you slapped his hand making him look at you with a mixture of surprise and irritation. He was very handsome when he was angry, his blue eyes darkening with the fury he tried to contain. Wounded pride showing in every line of his furrowed brow.

"You don't deserve a relic yet, old man."

He ran his tongue across the corner of his cheek, clearly annoyed, but decided to play along. "I already told you my name is Stephen Strange."

You shrugged, getting into a fighting stance. "And I already said I don't care. Now be less miserable and conjure a weapon, so I'll feel less bad when I hit you."

He chuckled nervously, making a valiant effort to conjure something that could barely be described as a weapon, but it would have to do because you quickly went in for a blow that he reasonably defended himself from.

You smiled mischievously "You're getting better. I've always believed it's possible to learn through pain."

He clearly didn't like your comment, because he struck a blow at you that you barely have time to defend yourself by creating a shield.

"You don't know anything about my pain." He spat out the words.

Apparently you had hit a nerve. Excellent.

Your relationship with Strange didn't changed much beyond that for a long time, but you liked to think that somehow you were growing inside him, because he was always close even when you didn't necessarily need to be together. Like in the library.

It was as if he always knew the exact time you were in the library and would go there and steal books that were clearly not allowed for someone of his level. Not even at your level.

"You're going to end up with your head in a bucket over this." You said one of those nights while reading under the light of a single candle at the farthest desk in the library.

"Only if you tell on me." He responded, bringing the book under his arm and coming towards you. He threw the heavy book on the table and smiled arrogantly at you. When you looked at the book your eyes widened in complete amazement.

"This book belongs to the Ancient One's collection, are you crazy?"

He pulled out a chair and sat at the desk with you. "Wong said no knowledge is prohibited at Kamar Taj."

You rolled your eyes "Yes, I know that speech, it was exactly that that led Kaecilius to perdition."

Strange stared at you and then at the book. "So this is the book that was stolen."

"If it's in your hand, it's obvious that it wasn't stolen. Only a spell was removed from it. An evil spell that neither you nor I have the slightest idea of what it does."

But it was useless, every word of warning seemed to instigate the man even more. You had been around Strange long enough to know that he was hard-headed and when he put something in his head no one could take it away.

You closed the book you were reading and levitated it to the shelf by moving little more than your fingertips.

"Show off." He scolded as he flipped through the forbidden book.

"If you allow me, I will leave before you do something that’ll get us killed, or worse, expelled."

With that he smiled widely, that must have been the first time you saw him smiling, at least for you.

"Did you just quote Harry Potter? How old are you, twelve?"

You shrugged. "I'm 21 in two weeks, I'll take a gift." You said walking down the hall.

As days went by, it became increasingly clear to you that all that provocation had a much deeper meaning than you wanted to admit. You've never been with a man, in fact you've never even been interested in a man. Your life has always been studying and after you were orphaned after a car accident that killed your parents and almost killed you, you felt lost in the world and found out about Kamar Taj and dedicated yourself one hundred percent to it. That's what you always do, you find a source of interest, become completely obsessed and devote yourself to it until you learn everything you can from it and then move on to another obsession. At that point you were already recognizing the pattern and wondering how far you could go with that obsession with Strange when teasing or pestering him during training seemed to not be enough anymore.

You started teasing him in other ways, wearing robes that were tighter than necessary, shorts and tank tops that were smaller and shorter than allowed, all so he could get a good look at what he was missing. That is, of course, if he had any interest in you in the same way that you had in him. To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Provoking him was easy, but seducing wasn't exactly an area you had mastered.

The day before your birthday you were in the kitchen stealing what was left of your cake frosting when Strange caught you in the act. You were only wearing skimpy pajama shorts and a top that barely covered your breasts and bent over as you were, half of your body inside the fridge, you could imagine the image Stephen had of your ass.

"You should be embarrassed." His baritone voice came from behind you and in shock you hit your head on the top of the fridge which made him laugh. That laugh was something new and the way it made your stomach flutter was new too.

You took the pot out of the fridge, but left the door open, illuminating the dark kitchen with a beam of yellow light.

"It's my cake, my birthday, I have the right." You responded by sticking your index finger into the bowl and scooping out a little more of the icing and sticking it in your mouth teasingly taking it out with a loud pop.

You could see him swallowing thickly, his eyes getting darker with what you didn't quite know what it was.

"I'm referring to walking around the Kamar Taj dressed like that."

You shrugged "It's hot in Kathmandu." You made sure to smile mischievously at him. "After all, what are you doing walking around the Kamar Taj at this hour, Strange?" You questioned as if you had any right to it.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. "I can't sleep. My hands are hurting more than usual."

You looked at him for a second, still leaning against the sink with the glass bowl in your hand, trying to think of what to say to him, but ended up opting for the easiest answer.

"You don't expect me to take pity on you and offer to massage your hands or something, right?" You tried to sound sarcastic, but since there was some truth in your suggestion, your voice sounded softer than you would have liked.

"I don't want pity, but a massage would be nice."

“Fuck off” You replied, turning around to put the bowl in the sink and wash your hands, but mostly to hide how red your cheeks had gotten.

He sighed, getting up and mumbling a good night and leaving the kitchen and you stood there wondering if he was really serious or not. In any case, that was absurd, you both didn't have that kind of intimacy.

You ended up as usual in the library, finishing the last chapters of the book that you needed to finish for the end of the year exams. When you joined Kamar Taj, you didn't realize how much theory you would have to learn, you always thought it would be more practice than books and exams, but things weren't exactly as you imagined and you weren't as good at theory as you were in practice. Your memory wasn't like Strange's. The bastard could memorize an entire book in that deranged brain of his, you could barely memorize your own notes. Clearly there was a bargaining chip there, you thought ironically. I massage his hands and he help me study.

You chuckled to yourself thinking how absurd the idea was, but as you read the endless pages of the book that confused you more than clarified the subject, the more tempted you became to actually make the offer to Strange. The best you could get for an answer was no, right?

Finally, you gave up on your studies and put the books back on the shelves and left the library towards the dorms, you were still deciding between going straight to your dorm or knocking on Strange's door when you heard a sound coming from his room. You stopped in front of the door, your hand on the doorknob waiting and then you heard it again, a groan. He must have really been in a lot of pain to be groaning like that. You even felt bad about the way you spoke to him in the kitchen earlier.

You gave up knocking and simply turned the handle and to your surprise the door opened. It was dark inside, but the little light coming from the window made it clear as day what he was actually doing or trying to do and before he noticed your presence another groan escaped his lips followed by a curse "Damn hands. "

You swallowed heavily and closed the door behind you and only then did he notice your presence.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked completely defensively, adjusting himself in the small chair at the desk that could barely contain his entire size in it. At the same time he removed his hand from inside his boxers, but there was an erection there so obvious that the white fabric did little to hide.

"I came to make you an offer, but since you're busy I can come back another time." You answered turning around to leave.

He groaned and in that sound you could feel a little frustration, a little irritation and also some curiosity. “Wait.”

He snapped his fingers and some light bulbs came on. "If you tell anyone what you saw here, I swear I'll kill you." He threatened.

You smirked, "Threatening to kill me isn't the best thing you can do to keep my mouth shut. It's actually the worst thing, since we both know you're no match for me in combat."

He raised an eyebrow challenging you. "I've evolved a lot since I got here, Y/n, don't underestimate me."

You shrugged. "I'm not here to fight, Strange. I came to ask for help with my studies. You know my exams are coming up and I'm not as good in theory as I am in practice. If I do poorly in the exams, The Ancient One won't let me participate in the advanced spell training and I'm really excited to get started...”

"Let me get this straight. You're asking for my help? Is that right?"

You walked over to him and sat on the bed, crossing your arms dramatically. "Unfortunately it's my only option."

He shifted again in his chair and you couldn't help but notice that thing between his legs.

"So... what do you say?"

"I could help you. The question is whether I want to or not. Let's think about it for a minute. Since I got here you have dedicated yourself to make my life really hard. You are an insufferable brat, you are rude... "

"Okay, I understand. Where are you going with this? Are you going to help me or not?"

Strange smiled mischievously as if suddenly some brilliant idea had crossed his mind. "It will depend on what you’ll give me in return."

Something about that smile made the heat rise to your cheeks again and you swallowed thickly.

"You mentioned early in the kitchen that your hands were hurting. I thought… maybe you wanted a massage or something." Your voice became lower and lower and by the end of the sentence it was almost a whisper.

He hummed, "Something like that." He replied and then sighed heavily.

"Do you know what the big problem with my hands is? I can't jerk off"

You looked at him, completely shocked that he was saying that to you, but you supposed that after teasing him for all that time, he didn't exactly have much respect for you, especially because he must have already noticed that you maintained a certain interest in him.

"And tonight, after you were showing off that ass of yours for me in the kitchen I really needed to jerk off."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

"You tease me and tease me, but you don't offer anything in return. You keep wearing these indecent clothes and I know it's not because of the heat, but because you want me to look at you. You call me an old man, but I know you love how old I am. So spare me that innocent face of yours because I know you're not innocent."

Actually, you were, but you didn't tell him that. You had never been with a man. Some heated kisses, yes, some touching and teasing, but nothing more than that. The problem was that you played your role too well.

"Are you going to help me or not?" You mumbled.

"Come here." He asked and you hesitated for a moment, but then you gave in and slowly walked towards him, stopping in front of him, waiting for what he would say next.

"I don't want a massage. I need your hands to jerk off. In other words, I want a handjob. A really good handjob and depending on how good it is I might be good and help you pass those exams."

You chewed on your lip. There was a part of you that liked the idea of being intimate with him like that, but another much more conscious part knew how wrong it was. You weren't comfortable with that situation.

"And how exactly is a really good handjob? I need to know my chances here if I'm going to do this."

He smirked. "Let me see your hands. Palms up."

You obeyed.

"They're small, which means you'll have to use both at the same time because, as you can see..." He brought his hands to the sides of his boxers and in a quick movement they were on his knee, freeing his huge dick. "It's very big."

"You're an arrogant idiot, you know that?" You mumbled, unable to hold your tongue in your mouth.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his cock and instinctively you wrapped it around him and it felt so warm and so hard, you didn't imagine it was that hard.

"Come on, you know what to do!" He said, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.

You knelt down to his height and moved your hand up and down, but clearly something was wrong. "Shouldn't it be wet?" You asked innocently, to which he let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, I don't have lube. You'll need to use your own spit."

You looked at him in surprise, but he clearly understood your reaction as disgust.

He sighed dramatically, held his own cock by the base and spat on it and then moved his trembling hand spreading the saliva over the entire length. "There. It's wet now."

You grabbed him, determined to end it once and for all. From what you knew, he hadn't had sex for a long time and if you did it right he wouldn't last long.

You started to pump him up and down quickly, but contrary to your plans, he held your hand "Slow down, I want to enjoy myself for a bit."

You sighed doing what he wanted, you used both hands to stroke him slowly making sure to rotate your hands on the way down and making sure to touch his head on the way up. It was your first time doing that, but you weren't a saint, you had already watched porn and remembered some things and by the way he started to squirm, barely able to stay still in the chair, you could tell you were doing something right.

He started to moan too, at first low and then louder and soon some words began to escape his lips as if he was unable to contain them.

"Fuck Y/n, you really know what you're doing, don't you? Oh I missed this, it's been so long!"

You couldn't hide from yourself that his words seemed to move you, it was almost as if you could feel a warmth in your chest, a surge of pride at being praised by him and more than that, you felt your panties getting wet.

There was no point trying to hide that you were enjoying this. Deep down you always imagined yourself in some kind of erotic scenario with Strange. Alone in your small room, you found yourself thinking about him and he was right, you teased him to try to get some reaction from him. You just never imagined things would happen this way, but you were too involved in it to care.

You watched in delight as how much of that sticky liquid came out of his tip the more you stimulated him, and you also realized that you liked the noises that your hands jerking him made, not to mention his moans that got louder and louder. The next thing you knew, you were squeezing your thighs together and he only didn't notice because he had leaned his head back and kept his eyes closed, but when an involuntary moan escaped your lips he looked at you intently with a grin in his lips.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You dirty little brat!"

You couldn't maintain eye contact with him, so you kept your eyes on his cock, noticing every vein, every detail of that cock that was the first one you had the chance to see up close.

You spat on his cock and continued your work without responding to his provocation, but he wasn't willing to let it go.

"Look at me."

You did what he asked somewhat reluctantly.

"I want your mouth, sweetheart."

You looked at him in surprise, not because of what he asked, but because of the way he referred to you and especially because of how it made you feel.

"I... I don't know how to do it." You replied and he smirked.

"I find that hard to believe."

You looked away feeling your face even hotter. Was it really possible that you had played your role so well that you managed to make the man you were interested in believe you were a whore? You were not. You weren't even close to that, but now it was too late to try to change his opinion about you.

"Tell me how you like it." You asked, disguising your inexperience.

"Deep in the throat. That's how I like it. But I'll take what you give me. Just use this mouth of yours for something more productive than talking shit."

You were slightly offended and bothered by the way he was treating you. Despite everything, in your fantasies he was always kind, but you tried not to let that show and opened your mouth as much as you could and he stuck his head in and instinctively reached his hand up to your head and grabbed a handful of your hair. "Use your tongue, swirl it in the head."

You did exactly as he asked and felt his hold on your hair tighten. He started to push your head down, forcing you to take him deeper and deeper until you gagged and tears ran down your face.

"That's how I like it." He took his cock out of your mouth and held your chin making you look at him. "There's nothing like a good cock to tame a brat, right sweetheart?"

You swallowed the saliva you had gathered in your mouth and nodded obediently.

"You can take a little more, can't you?"

You nodded.

"Good girl. Open your mouth really wide, I'm going to go deeper this time, okay?"

You just nodded again, apparently that was all you could do, obey his commands even if you didn't agree with them. You felt as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth, entering your throat until you could no longer breathe. Automatically you grabbed his thighs and started pushing to try to get away from him, but he didn't let you go.

"It's okay. Just breathe through your nose" He cooed. You had never heard that tone of voice from him, at least not when he was talking to you, but a part of you liked it.

You did as he ordered, but the sensation was no less uncomfortable when you felt him going down your throat. Your gag reflex was horrible and soon you were crying profusely as streams of saliva ran down your mouth as he continued thrusting against your throat.

"Look at you, you're crying on my dick, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how beautiful this is?"

You pushed his thigh again and tried to lift your head and this time he allowed it.

He continued holding your hair though and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"Not such a bully now, are you?"

You were feeling overwhelmed, your voice refused to come out and there was a secret part inside you that was loving the feeling of being used, even when you knew deep down that it was wrong.

He stood up and pulled you up too. "Let's make a deal. I'll touch you now and if you're dry I'll let you finish with the handjob and we'll stop here..."

You stared at him, fully aware of the mess that was between your legs.

He smirked, pleased with your reaction and continued explaining "...but if you're wet... Oh sweetheart, if you're wet, I'll fucking ruin you."

When his hand slipped into your shorts and panties your legs were shaking and could barely support you standing. You knew you should tell him the truth, that you should stop it while there was still time, but you couldn't. You were paralyzed. Physically your body was having positive reactions, you were soaking wet between your legs, you were ready to take him. But mentally you were a mess. This wasn't what you imagined for your first time. It wasn't how it should be.

"Oh I knew it! I could smell it on you. Your arousal... such a sweet smell."

You placed your hand over his hand "Strange... I don't know..."

"Shhh, it's okay. I think you can call me Stephen now."

He moved his middle finger through your folds and circled your clit making your hips move involuntarily against his hand. He brought his face closer to yours and for a minute you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he whispered in your ear. "You always wanted this, right? All the teasing was because you wanted me. I bet you've already touch yourself thinking about me, haven't you?"

You didn't respond, but when he took two fingers inside you, you winced feeling a sting deep inside. He didn't seem to notice.

"Tell me." He insisted.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"I always wanted you." You whined.

He hummed "I'm here now. I'm going to give you what you've always wanted."

With that he bent you over the desk and pulled your shorts and panties down to your knees and you could hear him spitting into his hand.

"Stephen...w-wait..."

He spread his saliva at your entrance and you clung as best you could to the edges of the small wooden desk bracing yourself for what was to come.

He didn't say anything, he just buried himself inside of you with a strong, firm thrust and it was done. All the fantasies, all the expectations around it disappeared in a second, giving way to pain, a tearing sting that brought tears to your eyes, but you didn't make a sound.

He groaned in pleasure, but in confusion too and then stopped altogether. When he spoke again his voice sounded low and slightly nervous.

"Were you a fucking virgin? Really?"

You let out the breath you were holding in small puffs, "I t-tried to tell you."

He pulled out and turned you around to face him. "You didn't tell me shit. How was I supposed to know?!"

You wiped the tears from your eyes "It's no big deal okay? I should have resolved this a long time ago, I just never found..." You bit your tongue before you said too much. You had already given him too much power over you that night.

Stephen ran a hand nervously through his mouth. "We'd better stop this here." He stated, but you held his hand.

"Stephen... it's no big deal. I want this. Just... do it."

He held your face between his huge, shaking hands and stared into your eyes and you could see all the certainty in him slipping away but you had to keep going. If you stopped now it would be too humiliating.

"Stephen, please." You whispered.

"You stupid little brat!" Stephen said with a heavy sigh and then kissed you. An angry and desperate kiss. A clash of lips, tongues and teeth mixed with the hums that escaped your throats.

In one quick movement he picked you up, bride style, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

"What are you doing?"

He walked over to his bed and laid you carefully on the pillows.

"If we're going to do this, sweetheart, let's do it right."

You watched as he got rid of his tee and found yourself analyzing every inch of his body. He was so beautiful, his defined chest and abdomen, his strong arms, his hands... you lost count of how many times you stared at his hands while your mind conjured up the dirtiest scenarios possible.

"Like what you see?" He asked arrogantly and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, it was stronger than you. "If I didn't like it I wouldn't be here."

"I thought you were here to offer me a deal." He smirked grabbing your shorts and panties that were still tangled around your knees and pulling them off. He threw them on the floor, staring at you with a damn arrogant smile on his lips. "Give up being a brat, this behavior doesn't suit virgins."

You felt the heat returning to your cheeks, but you didn't have time to think of a response because he climbed onto the bed and came on top of you, your legs parted so he could settle between them and before you could understand what he was doing, his lips were on your belly as he lifted the tank top you were wearing and continued his assault on your skin. He kissed and bit you while lifting your top exposing your breasts. He caught your nipple in his mouth, sucking it with newfound passion. A low moan escaped your lips while he did it and you moved your hips up involuntarily. He hummed pleased with your response.

"Stephen...please."

He moved his lips up to your neck, sucking a bruise on your sensitive skin. The touch of his goatee making your entire body shiver. He continued moving his mouth up, nibbling on your earlobe, breathing heavily into your ear on purpose while grinding his hard dick against your uncovered pussy.

"Tell me what you want." He whispered.

But instead of answering him, you surrendered to your fear and asked. "Will it hurt more?"

He cupped your face. "The worst part is over, but I'll take it slow now, I promise."

You shook your head. "No. Just do whatever you have to do until you make me feel good."

He grabbed your chin with more force than you would expect and used his other hand to direct his cock to your entrance and kissed you as he entered you again, going all the way in. You felt the same sting deep in your belly, but it hurt less this time, however the discomfort of having him inside you was something you still needed to get used to. He was big and even though he wasn’t moving you could feel his dick pulsing inside you. It was an strange sensation.

"Now move with me." He asked, grabbing your thigh and wrapping your leg around his waist and with that going even deeper. The movements began, he thrusted slowly but hard and you clung to him, your arms wrapped around his torso, nails biting against the skin of his back as you tried to imitate his movements.

The whole time his lips didn't leave your lips, your chin, your neck. He kissed and bit everywhere he could reach and in between his kisses he let out moans and groans and little praises.

"Oh fuck, this little virgin pussy feels so good... so tight."

You didn't imagined how much of the sexual response was much more physiological than a conscious thing. Before you even knew it your body was moving beneath his with much more desire and the pain and discomfort were replaced by a type of pleasure that was much stronger than the one you got when touching yourself in your room. Each thrust from Stephen triggered a new wave of desire and suddenly what he was giving you didn't seem to be enough, you wanted him all inside you, you wanted him to merge with you until it was no longer possible to know where one ended and the other began.

"Oh my god... it feels so good." You moaned against his lips as you wrapped both legs around his waist, crossing your feet behind his back and trapping him there.

"Yeah? My cock feels good inside you. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

“Uh hum” was all you could respond, but it was enough to inflate Stephen’s ego even more and he groaned loudly in response, gripping the headboard and you couldn’t tell how, but you knew he was close. There was something about the way his eyes were fixed on yours, his breathing became faster, his movements more irregular and in the midst of your bliss you were still able to reason "Stephen... I'm not taking anything."

But your words didn't have the effect you expected, on the contrary, he seemed to become even more determined to finish. His mouth fell open, loud moans and grunts escaping straight from his throat and his thrusts became even harder and faster.

"You're being such a good girl for me. Letting me fuck your pussy raw. I think I'll make it up to you." He rested his forehead on yours and continued. "I'm going to fill you with my cum and you're going to take all of it, won't you?"

You shook your head, but he shushed you.

"Of course you will. I'll leave you leaking my cum for days so you remember what you get for being a good girl. Who knows, maybe you'll come back for more?"

"But... we can't..."

He thrusted even harder against you and your mouth went agape with the feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. You knew you were close, but at the same time it was unlike anything you had ever felt. I was stronger and it seemed to come from much deeper inside you.

"Of course we can. Going to fuck a baby inside you, sweetheart. I know you will look beautiful carrying my baby."

Your pussy fluttered at those words. How was it possible for you to feel that way? You knew you couldn't let him do that, but you didn't have the strength to fight him when your body was against you. The tension inside your stomach increased and you were so close, all you needed was a small push to fall and surrender to your climax.

"S-Stephen... I'm gonna cum. Oh my... shit."

He kept his pace holding on to the headboard to put more strength into his thrusts while with his other hand he grabbed your chin making you look at him.

"Look at me, Y/n. I want to see it happening. Show me how good my cook is making you feel."

"So good... cock feels so good inside me. I am so lucky." You muttered, barely aware of your own words. "I need to cum. Let me cum... Please..."

He smirked, surely satisfied with your total submission. "You can cum, sweetheart. Do it now."

The tension exploded within you with an intensity you had never experienced before. Unlike every time you came, the sensation was not concentrated in your clit, but came from the inside out, making your entire body shake and tears accumulate at your waterline.

"There you go." Stephen stopped thrusting, watching you with a victorious smile on his lips and then kissed you, a wet kiss, full of lust and desire. Fuck, he was such a good kisser. You felt yourself melting on his lips.

He groaned at your lips and, against your will, you felt him spilling inside you. You knew you should fight it, but in your state of pure bliss you couldn't find the strength within yourself to even try.

He broke the kiss only to lower his lips to your neck where he sucked a bruise too visible for you to hide with your robes. But you knew that was exactly his intention. He wanted to claim you. Showing you that from that moment on you were his and no matter how absurd it might seem, you liked the idea. In fact, that was exactly what you wanted.

He rolled to the side when he was finished, his breathing slowly returning to normal and you lay there feeling the weight of everything that had happened, disbelief and shame finally taking over you. You were suddenly terribly self conscious about lying naked on Strange's bed while his cum dripped from your violated pussy.

In the middle of your internal debate you decided to get up, but you were interrupted by Strange who held your arm and asked with some disbelief. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To my room. I... I think I need a shower."

He cupped your face smirking "Wait here. I'll clean you up."

You waited for him motionless on the bed, your heart beating so hard you could hear it pounding in your ears. You heard the sounds coming from the bathroom, he had left the door open and the room was too small so you couldn't hear him. He peed and wash himself and then came back a few minutes later with a towel in his hands and went back to bed. He cleaned you gently, the towel was wet with warm water and it felt good although the whole situation was extremely embarrassing.

"I'll help you with your studies." He said when he finished what he was doing. "You can wait for me in the library after dinner, but you can't rely on that alone to pass your exams. You need to read. That's what works for me. Hours of reading."

You sat on the bed and stared in disbelief at the small stain of blood on the white sheet. Your face blushed so hard you needed to look the other way.

"I shouldn't have done what I did, Y/n. I had no idea you were a virgin. I'm so sorry. I imagine it wasn't what you expected your first time to be."

You shook your head. "I always wanted it to be you." You confessed, staring at your hands. "You're right. I have feelings for you. That's why I tease you... so you'll notice me."

He sighed, but there was a certain tenderness in his eyes that you had never seen before.

"And do you want this to continue, or it’ll be a one-time thing?" Stephen asked and for a second you could see expectation in his eyes, as if he was waiting a long time for the answer he wanted to hear.

"I don't know, Strange. Do you want it to continue?"

He smirked looking away and then he nodded. "Yes. I want to do it again. And you can keep calling me Stephen. I think it's the most normal thing after I took your virginity."

You felt the heat running down from your cheeks to your neck.

"You look beautiful all red like that." He smiled at you. "I always thought you were beautiful, Y/n."

He came closer and cupped your face and kissed you. Soft and calm for the first time. Your lips moved in sync and somehow this kiss felt even more intimate than the others. When he broke the kiss there was a passionate smile on his lips.

He sighed getting up. "Feel free to use the bathroom. I'll change the sheets so we can sleep."

You did as he suggested, hiding in the bathroom while he disappeared with the evidence of your lost innocence. You took the opportunity to wash your face with clean water and went back to the room. He was already lying down and patted the mattress for you to join him. You picked up his tee that was on the floor and put it on and then lay down on the bed next to him. He pulled you into his arms and you both fell silent.

I need to know that you're okay, Y/n" He said.

You nodded. "I'm fine. Really." You glanced at him for a moment and then smiled. "You can call me sweetheart whenever you want. It's terribly cute." You teased.

He pinched your cheek "As you wish, sweetheart. Now let's try to sleep. We need to wake up early for training tomorrow. Promise you'll be good to me."

Your smirked “I’ll try.”

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

BACK TO DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @a-tong @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @evelyn-kingsley @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @fanartka @katehawke @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @whiskeyho @sherlux @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma @sassenach-on-the-rocks

@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl @ironstrangeheart @boredzillenial

349 notes · View notes

noritoshiikamo · 2 years

Text

wake up [childe x reader]

im writing childe again as an annual sacrifice to lose on his banner for c5 jean or tighnari also miss manipulative yet sweet little husband childe [continuation of this]

tagging @cheolinn @duskamethyst @crashed-wing

cw dubcon, manipulative childe, pregnant reader, wee bit of somnophilia, female receiving oral, not so descriptive penetrative sex, mention of breeding kink, stockholm syndromish, homicidal thoughts (childe)

ajax is ridiculous throughout your pregnancy.

you found yourself dodging him ever so often but would it work with your stubborn husband? never. your cold shoulder meant he just had to work a little hard, aggressive with no subtlety. to him, you must just be a little cranky with his busy schedule. serving tsaritsa is might be a priority but for you, he was willing to make an exception.

he’s suffocating.

hovering over you, berating everything you do as if you haven’t been doing this for the past 57 day to be exact. “stop, i’m just pregnant. leave me alone,” you muttered angrily, eyes didn’t even leave the chopping board holding off to the herbs you were about to chop. ajax knew well than to mess with an angry woman holding a knife.

“my love, you are going in your second trimester, you should be resting. what kind of husband am i if i’m not helping my sweet sweet wife.”

you turned around, annoyance was all your face could convey to his nonsense, “well for once, if you would’ve learn to control yourself, i wouldn’t need to be carrying a baby for 9 months.” his laughter echoed the small cottage as you found yourself trapped between the counter, a hard place and your charming husband. his bare hands, sight you rarely seen brushed gently against your cheeks. your tensed body immediately relaxed as if it was trained to respond as such to his touch. “now, now, that wouldn’t be so husbandly of me if i couldn’t get my wife knocked up, wouldn’t i?” his lips brushed your own so lightly but it was your reaction that made the man marveled in excitement. you were reaching for more.

“oh, did my wife miss me?”

you bit your tongue, “shut up and quit bothering me.”

ajax feigned a small pout, fishing for your sympathy as he rested his forehead against yours. his cold eyes were wide with joy, being nuisance to you was his choice of bantering. he missed this dearly, contemplating more sabbatical leaves to spend more time with you. his thumb brushed against your lower lips as his finger hooked under your chin, forcing your gaze up on him. “i told you,” he clicked his tongue, “i will lessen the bothering after our third child. fifth if you want to completely stop, i will definitely shut my mouth.”

he felt something sharp against his chest. looking down, you slammed the knife flat, palm on the handle against where his heart laid. your hand looked so small compared to the knife,“just cook.”

you waddled away, tossing the apron on the counter. you felt his gaze against your body but it was his words that gave you the shivers.

“i’ll still have it, y/n. after our sweet firstborn is out, i will only give you few months of break, and then i’ll breed the second one right back in ya.”

you knew it well that the threat isn’t empty.

it was adorable that 30 minutes later, he found you completely out in the baby room, resting against the nice sofa by the window with a book on your laps. it seemed that the book is reading you and not the other way around. my poor exhausted wife, he thought fondly. he leaned against the door, arms across the chest as his eyes roamed. how could he resist the idea of pumping you full of his child when you look so adorable and cute?

something twitched in him.

his boots creaked heavy against the floor. winter must be brutal on you after years in the land of freedom. you surely missed the sunny breeze against your skin, his finger brushing lightly against your thigh, hiking your dress higher. a soft oh escaped his lips as his eyes widened in excitement. down on both knees, his lips planted butterfly kisses along the inside watching as you squirmed and sighed. the book long forgotten, laying on the floor as he ventured deeper. you must have been thinking of how none of your complaints were heard by him. ajax just didn’t think that it would be true; you’re not just gonna be walking around with nothing underneath just because the waistband hurts. he felt sorry for doubting you, apologizing in the way he knew best with a kiss in your mound.

“sorry baby, shh just sleep,” he hushed as he yanked you by the legs forward, spreading your legs further. you whined, drowsy in exhaustion.

he was sorry indeed. with arms both underneath your thighs, holding you in place, he burrowed deeper. on his archon’s name, he couldn’t understand how you could taste this delicious on his tongue. ajax could no longer go for the soft gentle licks, he was ravishing you. when he was not running his tongue along your slit, teasing your throbbing holes with his pointed tongue, he kept his lips latched around the puffy clit. with every whines and sighs, he kept his grips on your soft thighs tighter.

his heart swelled and his cock twitched when his name slipped out of your tongue so gently. even in your dream, he was haunting you. except this wasn’t a dream and ajax was really going to town. he would kill for you to wake up, listening to your sweet begging of no and not here.

he has no sense of patience and politeness.

he would keep you gagged with his cock down your throat underneath the table, pounding you in the corner of the dark alley of the busiest holiday night in town and here he is, trying to fuck you in your newborn’s room. he lives for the lusty fearful eyes of yours as he drives deeper in you. releasing your clit with a soft pop, his fingers went busy around the belt. he was leaking through the light pants, managed only to open it halfway before giving it a quick tug. he never asked, you knew better than to protest what was his. he rubbed the hardened cock against your slit, watching frenzied in lust as your face contorted in pleasure.

“oh, y/n,” he called gleefully, planting kisses on your nose, “you better wake up or you’ll miss it.”

his kissed ticked your. your eyes opened lightly, startled by your husband’s face directly on your face. “miss what?” you asked confusedly. your pretty voice laced in exhaustion and sleep.

ajax smiled gleefully and your heart sank. “fuck, ajax!”your eyes shot opened as he pushed his whole length in. not giving you a single warning, not even easing in slowly, the fucked up blissed look in his face as he was fully sheathed in your cunt. you came just by his penetration, much to his content. your legs beside his figure trembled as you fisted his red shirt. “fucking warn me first,” you cried, his hungrily lips reached your own. you tasted yourself, face flushing violently as you realised what had happen. your eyed rolled back at the feeling of his tongue brushing against your own. “hm, what about warning me first if you decide to walk around without a panties? what if someone see it? they’ll take advantage of my sweet pregnant wife,” he mocked, withdrawing his hips back and slamming forward, “my poor helpless wife, can’t have people know that they got the tightest cunt in town, can’t i?” you threw your head back in pleasure, tears pooling in your eyes from pain turned into a pleasure down your cheeks. he occupied your neck, lapping and biting your skin. sucking until marks formed where your heart pounded heavily underneath his tongue. until he was satisfied, until his hands took over around the column to bring your eyes back to his.

“don’t. do. it. again,” he hissed, emphasizing each words with the harsh thrust into your cunt, “not when i’m not around. or i will kill anyone who sets their eyes on you. don’t tell me you got off to the thoughts of me killing someone for you, my wife?”

his hips slowed down and you immediately shook your head, tongue building courage to mutter no. you watched as his face softened immediately, happily kissing you with his hips snapping harsh enough you could feel your second coming. he knew it. with the way you were breathing heavily, acting so obediently with his ridiculous orders and the pussy tightening against his cock, you were about to cum. “a-ajax! i can’t,” you whined, gasping for air he knocked out with every fucks. “s-slow down please.” your feet pressed against his side, struggling to slow his pace.

“sorry baby, i want you to cum on my cock. not even a chance,” he chuckled, lapping on the salty droplet against your cheeks, “come on baby, you’re tightening around my cock, give it in.” your cries echoed the small room, sofa creaked against the wooden floor taking the brunt of his harsh thrusts. your dress was like a thin paper shredded, exposing your bare skin he yearned the most. lapping hungrily on your sensitive, hardened bud. with every gaze of his fangs, you cursed him in your mother tongue. it could only make him more feral. you could feel his pelvic grinding against yours.

ajax is attractive when he’s about to cum.

his daze was feral yet soft, glistening with lust. his soft locks stick to his face and every time it became troublesome, he pushed it back. you couldn’t help the stare to count the speckles of freckles that kissed his face and wondered how many times had his past lover kissed him there. was it you? his face softened when your fingers rested itself against his face. he enjoyed it. his smile grew wider and so did the wrinkles around the corner of his eyes. “someone’s staring,” he teased, almost panting the words out of breath. you didn’t say anything, brushing a line you were certain once was a bleeding scar you nursed to heal.

he ruined your life, dragged you back here and imprisoned you but how can you hate him? deep inside you, you knew you made him mad. you drove him away and now his child grew in your womb and your found it more of a bliss than a punishment. your body tensed, nails dug deep in his shoulder blade. you didn’t make a sound, holding your breath. you came again but it almost feel like an out of body experience.

“y/n, come back to me,” his raspy voice against your ears startled you. you didn’t realise how you end up on his laps, on the floor arms tight around him with his hips were more forgiving this time. ajax breathed a sigh of relief, “there you are. wow, you’re so easy to break there, sweetheart, i thought i lost ya for a sec.” his eyes search your face, flushed and full of bliss. “do you want me to stop?” he asked, brushing your drool away, cleaning your face with concern.

“you didn’t finish,” you mumbled, confusion etched on your face.

“i don’t have too, are you okay?”

you pushed him off, watching as his soft ginger locks splayed on the floor. his brows jolted up in surprise, “y/n,” he warned, holding you up by the waist. a soft curse escaped his lips as he felt the walls tightening against his length. you love it, the way your name escaped his tongue. his moans echoed the room now as your hips moved. his cries and the way his grips tightened against your flesh every time your hips snapped up and down. he was getting sensitive, eager to finish, his hips moving upward to match your pace. his hand, it roamed. holding on to your arm, grabbing a handful of your growing breast but when he finally came, it sat against your growing belly. you gasped, feeling overwhelmed and full as he painted your inside wide, not a single drop wasted.

the room was quieter now. you both sat attached, struggling to catch the breath you knocked out of each other. you watched as his fingers trembled around the buttons. he shed the shirt off before sitting up, carefully wrapping you in his warm shirt. you said nothing, letting him rest your head against his chest. you listened to his rapid heart pounded, his fingers brushing your back with every breath you took you swore his heart skipped a beat. you sat there long before he kissed your forehead and sat you back on the sofa.

“stay here, let me grab you some clean clothes and something to clean you up.”

you yawned, shrugging nonchalantly, “nothing with waistbands, no underwear.”

ajax beamed in excitement, his smirk grew wider as he watched your face flushed warmer, “oh, trust me, you are not wearing anything after that.”

#will edit kater when im back from watching black panther hihi #writing: fics #writing: genshin #tw dubcon #tw somnophilia #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin tartaglia #genshin tartaglia x reader #tartagalia smut #childe x you #childe x reader #childe x reader smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #genshin x y/n #childe x y/n #husband!childe series

990 notes · View notes

ashdreams2023 · 1 month

Note

hiiii!!!! i love your works so muchhh🫶🫶🫶!! i hope you're still accepting requests about five, where five travelled to another dimension where the reader is and can't go back to where he's from (like when he goes to the future) i hope you understand huhu. THANK YOU IN ADVANCEEE!!!!💗💗💗

Took me a minute but I think got it 😅

Five hargreeves x reader

Angst/comfort

I’m sorry

Five blinks a few times while catching his breath, he looks around him I wonder and confusion, this place can’t possibly be where you were…right?

His endless months of calculations and failed attempts, has lead him here, it was the last possible place you could’ve been.

A small town in the middle of nowhere where, the houses looked identical with the exception of the obvious well taken care of garden in the house he was walking directly walking towards.

He swallowed when he saw the small name plate on the front fence, hargreeves…

[Name] hargreeves.

He notices a few of the neighbors looking at him suspiciously from their cracked windows, kids peaking from over fences and men glaring at him as they walk by.

He was an intruder to their circle and obviously he was view as less than welcome but they didn’t scare him, not when he saw the world near end three times.

He walked inside and braced himself for what he might witness, he knocked on the door three times, then his heart skipped a beat.

"Coming! John is that you?! I didn’t think you’ll drop the groceries so early-" You opened the door and froze in your spot when you saw his face.

Five let out a breath, your familiar face made his chest feel both warm and tight at the same time, he finally found you.

"Five?…how?" You opened your mouth in disbelief then closed it again, your eyes quickly scanned the area around your house and faked a smile to the nosey neighbors.

"Inside" you pulled him gently by his sleeve, his eyes never leaving your figure, not even blinking.

After closing the door you shut the curtains then turned back to look at him, you hesitated before reaching your hand and touching his cheek "My five"

He melted into your touch and kissed the palm kissing his face "My love…I’ve finally found you"

You threw yourself into his embrace and closed your eyes "I thought I’ll never see you again…I thought this was the end for us"

Five shook his head "don’t be daft, I would search for you till the hair on my head turns gray again"

"You crazy old man!" You pulled away from him looking concerned "It’s not safe for you here…they don’t like strangers" you looked to the side looking conflicted.

He pulls your face up to look at him "I’m no stranger, I am your husband, the one you took the last name of and they should know better than to mess with me regarding my family"

Your eyes teared up a little, you pulled away from him looking down at the floor "I know why you’re here but…I can’t go back with you five"

His expression showed confusion "Why? I can definitely get us back I-"

"No…no you can’t, you think I haven’t tried before? I tried every possible equation and no one of them did me any good, I’m stuck here five and you can’t do anything about it…I’m sorry"

Five clenched his fists and then marched to you and grabbed your wrist "I refuse to leave here alone! I am not leaving without you!" He focused his powers on the exact equation he tried earlier but just like your words it was like nothing was affecting your existence there, for he was all powered up and ready to leave you stayed unaffected.

His body slumped down, he let go of you and looked down at his hands frustration and anger at himself "There has to be a way…I’m-"

"Five I’m so sorry" You hugged him from behind "I wish things could be different" you whispered.

Five rubbed his face groaning then put his hands on top of yours "We both tried separately but…it doesn’t mean we can’t try together, work with me…I’m not giving up on us, I’ll wait years if meant for you to come back with me to our dimension"

"But your family-"

"You are my family too!" He tightened his grip on your hands "and I’m not gonna lose you again"

You sniffed then hid your face in on his back "I’m sorry, I’ll try to help"

"No, don’t be, it’s my fault and…I’m the one who’s sorry, you deserve the life I promised you and more..I promise to give you that, it’s the least I can do but do you trust me?" He ask’s looking back at you.

You nodded your head "I do, I trust you with my life"

#five hargreeves x you #five x y/n #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #five the umbrella academy #five headcanons #five hargreeves #netflix the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy

56 notes · View notes

thewintersoldierdisaster · 6 months

Text

a/n: i know i said i probably wouldn’t write more for brady, but, uh, here we are. this is porn with the barest minimum of plot. like genuinely this is so deranged but i had a wild time writing it. MAJOR props to @smileysvech for the title because i couldn’t think of a single one 😭

word count: 10.5k (😳 i had NO idea it was this long omg)

tw: period sex, like big time. this is essentially all smut and you’ve been warned. blood, obviously

summary: when you’re on your period, brady just wants to make you feel good

When Brady comes home after practice and his workout, a full five hours after he left the house in the morning, he finds you in the exact same spot on the bed - curled up in the fetal position. You have the plush Stormy he bought you as a joke when one of your date nights accidentally ended at the pro shop cuddled against your chest, your face pressed into the top of the pig’s stuffed head. You lift your head slightly when you hear him step into the bedroom and mumble a soft, pitiful ‘hi’ before pressing your face back into the stuffed animal.

Brady lets out a sympathetic hum and sits down on the edge of the bed, a plastic bag crinkling in his hand. “Hey, sweetheart, still feeling crappy?” His fingers are cool against your skin when he reaches over and brushes a few pieces of hair off your forehead. His forehead is creased with concern, full lips downturned in a frown.

“Every damn month, Brady,” you whine, pulling your knees up closer to your chest, trying to add pressure to alleviate the cramps. “Every month and somehow I’m still always knocked on my ass.”

Your periods had always been difficult, lasting a full seven days and coming with headaches, sore breasts, nausea, and raging cramps. Days one and two were always the worst and it blew your mind how you were surprised that you felt like hot garbage every time. It’s like you forgot about the symptoms and misery the second it was over. Being on birth control had helped a bit, but birth control came with its own side effects - a rapid weight gain, migraines worse than you’ve ever had before, and a total death blow to your sex drive. So, off the birth control it was. The weight had slipped off and the migraines were reduced back to a normal headache. It had taken a second for your libido to come back, worrying you, but thankfully it was back a few months after stopping the pills. Now you just have to suffer through the worst two days of your period, the edge coming off with a borderline unhealthy amount of Advil going into your body.

“Maybe this will help?” Your boyfriend grins a little as he rustles through the plastic CVS bag and withdraws a can of raspberry Arizona iced tea and two king sized Butterfingers bars. He holds the candy bars between his fingers, splayed out like he’s displaying a deck of cards.

Tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by Brady’s thoughtfulness and the flood of hormones in your body. You nod a little, giving him a wavering smile. “You’re too good to me,” you reach out and flatten your palm over Brady’s grey-sweatpants clad knee, the closest body part of his that you can reach from your position in the middle of the bed. Brady snorts a laugh.

“Sweetheart, this is nothing,” he leans back a little and sets the candy and drink on your bedside table, knocking the family-sized bottle of Advil to the floor and pushing your half-finished Tessa Bailey novel to the edge, nearly sending it to the abyss between the piece of furniture and the wall. “Whatever you need from me, I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

It’s game day tomorrow, at home, which means Brady really is off the hook from team responsibilities until morning skate tomorrow. A sharp cramp works its way through your uterus and you wince, wiggling a little to stop your butt cheek from going numb.

“Can you just…like, cuddle with me?” You ask, rolling your neck so you can look up at Brady’s face. His eyes are soft and a low throb of want fights the cramps. You feel gross though, bloated and sore and right now all you can handle is being the little spoon to Brady’s big.

Brady’s nodding, already laying back on his side of the bed, “whatever you need from me, sweetheart,” he says, rolling onto his side and opening his arms for you to scoot in. His body is warm and inviting and you could cry with how badly you just need to be held right now. You feel stupid and silly and fragile, but Brady’s never shied away from giving you the comfort you need. He’s still and patient while you settle your head on the inside of his bicep, pressing your back against his chest, your ass flush against his groin, your knees bent and his knees slotted in right behind yours. Every inch of your body is pressed against Brady’s and the body heat coming off of him is better than any heating pad.

He wraps the arm that’s supporting your head over your chest, his forearm resting against your collarbone, and slides his other hand under the hem of your sweatshirt so his warm, broad palm can rest on your lower stomach, pressing down with gentle pressure to help your cramps. You sigh happily and relax back against him, tension seeping out of your shoulders and spine.

“Better?” He murmurs, breath hot against your ear and cheek. You nod, closing your eyes. Brady curls his knees up a little more so you’re both bent closer to a fetal position and there’s more relief for your lower back.

“Perfect,” you mumble, wiggling just a little so you’re even further in the cocoon of Brady’s arms. You can feel the slight press of Brady’s cock against the curve of your ass, but even that’s comforting, more so mentally than physically, since it’s proof that Brady still finds you attractive even when you feel your grossest. “How was practice?” You ask, happy to listen to Brady talk while you ignore the twinge of cramps.

He chuckles a bit, his chest vibrating at your back. “Same old,” he says and it feels so good when his chest moves against your back, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear. “Brett says to tell you that Amy’s gonna text you about a viewing party for the away game next week, thinks it’s her turn to host?”

You hum a confirmation, nodding against Brady’s arm. “It is. I get the game when you’re all up in Montreal,” you reply, knowing you’re probably going to have half a dozen texts from Amy when you eventually muster up the energy to pick up your phone. Brady’s hand rubs soft circles against your lower stomach, releasing more of the tension that’s built up without you realizing it. You shift again, stretching your lower back and feeling the giant pad you’re wearing move around. Brady has to be able to feel it with how closely you’re pressed against him and the thought makes you tilt your hips forward, away from his dick, so he doesn’t realize that you’re basically wearing a diaper.

Brady presses gently on your stomach and on your shoulder with his other hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles a little sheepishly, and you wonder why until he continues, “I know you’re not in the mood to have my dick poking at your ass. Swear I’m not that guy that’s worried about getting off when you’re feeling so crappy.”

“Oh!” You bite down on your lip to smother a little smile even as your nose burns with hormonal tears. Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Brady would think you were shifting away because of him. “No,” you rush to reassure him, twisting your neck so you’re looking at him from an awkward angle. “I’m not…I didn’t think…oh fuck, I just didn’t want you to, you know, have to feel everything that’s going on,” you wave at your lower half with one hand vaguely, “down there.”

“Sweetheart,” Brady’s lips quirk up in a little smirk, “I’m thirty years old, I don’t have any issues with what you’ve got going on. Besides,” he chuckles a little before kissing your temple, “I’ve seen the box of pads under the sink.”

Your entire face flushes hot and you grumble, “well, let’s just not talk about that.” Brady laughs again and kisses your hot cheek. It’s almost unnatural how sweet he is, but you suppose after the string of terrible boyfriends in your early twenties, this is what it’s like being in an adult relationship with an adult man.

“How about you close your eyes and try to nap?” Brady suggests. He subtly pulls you closer again, until your ass is back where it belongs against his semi-hard dick. His thumb strokes an arc under your belly button and you sigh, warm all over from Brady’s body curled around yours. “I know you tossed and turned all night.”

“Sorry,” the words get lost in his bicep, your cheek pressed against the fabric of his t-shirt. “Tried not to move so much.”

Brady’s hand moves in lazy circles against your skin and he keeps you pressed tightly against his chest. He’s functioning like the world’s greatest weighted blanket. When he replies, his breath ruffles the little pieces of hair escaping your messy bun. “Should’ve woken me up, I would’ve spooned you until you fell asleep again,” he sounds almost hurt that you didn’t wake him up.

“Next time, I’ll wake you up,” you promise, pressing a soft little kiss to the inside of Brady’s bicep, brushing your nose over the soft skin. His arms tighten around you and you feel him kiss the back of your head.

“Just wanna be there for you,” he says, yawning a little. The yawn is contagious and your jaw cracks a little with the effort. Brady tucks one leg in between yours and you settle back, your head resting under his chin.

You must fall asleep at some point, because when a sharp, persistent cramp stabs at your abdomen, sending you curling forward in a tight little ball, the sun is a little lower in the sky and blinding you from where it peeks out under the partially opened blinds. Brady’s arms are still wrapped around you, keeping you mostly in place even as you’re pressing your hands to your lower stomach to try and alleviate the cramps. Whatever brief reprieve you had during your nap is gone now, the pain back with a vengeance, and you groan a little, waking Brady from his nap.

“Bad again?” He asks, voice rough with sleep. The arm around your chest drops flat down to the mattress and you roll a little onto your stomach, pressing your hand tightly against it. His other hand is caught in between your body and the mattress, tangled in the waistband of your shorts. He wiggles his fingers ineffectually.

“Mhm,” you mumble into the pillow your face is pressed against. “C’n you give me Advil?”

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Brady rolls onto his side and hangs his upper body off the side of the bed to scoop up the bottle of Advil off the floor. He pops the top off and starts shaking pills into his hand before stopping and squinting at you suspiciously. “Wait, how many have you had already?”

“Two?” The lie comes out as a question and Brady rolls his eyes at you, lips twisted in an amused expression.

He cups his hand and drops the pills back into the bottle. “You want to try that again?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and leaning back to set the bottle on your bedside table.

You roll back onto your side, facing Brady, and poke your lower lip out in a pout. “Okay, so maybe it was like five or six, but I think I know how many Advil I can handle, Brady,” you can’t help the sharp edge that colors your response. The cramps are a stabbing pain, radiating through your lower back and hips. “Just give me one at least.”

Brady reaches out and settles his hands on your hip to pull you closer. He huffs your name on an exasperated sigh. “No way, your liver’s going to give out if you take any more Advil. Come here and I’ll give you a massage, see if that helps,” he says already rubbing one large hand over your lower back. His thumb digs into a particularly sore spot and you let out an involuntary moan, gasping a little. The muscles in your back are so knotted and stiff that even Brady’s gentle touch is painful.

“I…s’not gonna help,” you whine, wiggling under his touch. Tears fill your eyes involuntarily. “Hurts too much.” You exhale a harsh breath and roll away from him, wincing when you sit up. You have to change out your pad and moving might help. Brady doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him watch you as you rush off to the bathroom, hunched a little when another sharp stab of pain grips your stomach. Fuck this. One-tenth of the pain of actual childbirth contractions? If that’s true, you’re making sure you’re completely knocked out when you have kids.

You don’t linger in the bathroom, cleaning up and getting yourself ready to crawl back under the covers, making a mental note to see your gynaecologist again and harass her about a possible endometriosis diagnosis. Because this shit is just not natural.

Brady’s propped up against the headboard, his phone in his hand. He looks up when you come back into the bedroom and you’re not entirely sure you love the look on his face. He holds up his phone, displaying the screen even though you can’t see the webpage, and says, “you know, orgasms are a natural way to get pain relief from cramps.”

You’re shaking your head before Brady’s even finished talking. “No, no way. I’m never able to get myself off properly anymore, I’ve been spoiled,” you shoot him a mock glare and his smile turns smug. You continue, cutting him off when he opens his mouth, “And! It’s gross, I’m gross, I’m not letting you anywhere near me. All the blood and…and…well, stuff.”

Hands on your hips, you stubbornly remain standing at the foot of the bed, shaking your head at Brady. He tosses his phone onto the mattress and gets on his knees, crawling down the bed towards you. “Sweetheart, a little blood doesn’t bother me,” he waves his hand in the general vicinity of his face, where a cut across his nose is still healing after he took an elbow to the face two games ago. The resulting nosebleed had been fairly epic, to hear him tell the story. “Plus, I want to help you. Let me help you feel better.” He sits back on his heels and wiggles the same hand in the air, fingers splayed. “You know I’m good with my hands.”

He is REALLY good with his hands. And your poor swollen cunt throbs a little, arousal building low in your stomach despite everything else happening in your body.

“I’ll make it good for you, sweetheart,” Brady promises, looking earnest as hell. “If it doesn’t work, we can go back to Advil overdoses.”

Reluctantly, and chewing at your lower lip, you nod. “Okay, yeah, I guess we can try it,” you sigh. Truthfully, you’ve never tried to orgasm yourself to pain relief with your periods. It always felt so messy and gross.

Brady nods and hops off the bed, “I’ll be right back.” He disappears out into the hallway, leaving you standing at the foot of the bed, wondering just what you’re getting yourself into. You can hear a closet opening and closing and then Brady’s back, holding an old, but still semi-plush towel in his hands. He pushes the comforter on your bed to the side and spreads the towel out. You look at it and wrinkle your nose. This is going to be such a mess. But another cramp sends your stomach into a spasm and you grit your teeth. Okay, whatever it takes to relieve some of this pain.

“Come on,” Brady’s hand rubs wide circles over your back. “I’ll prop up and you can lean against me, okay?”

You nod and Brady’s on the bed, in the same position he had been before - propped against the headboard and legs spread wide so there’s room for you. “I’m keeping these on,” you huff, snapping the waistband of your shorts before crawling onto the bed. “It’s already going to be a mess, I want to keep everything contained.”

Brady laughs, “we both know it’s not the first time I’ve made you come while you’re fully clothed.” He pauses, smirks. “And it won’t be the last time.”

Your face heats up again and you push gently at Brady’s shoulder, “shush, you. This is so embarrassing.” You gingerly settle in the vee of Brady’s legs, stiff and sore. He kisses the crown of your head and gently tugs on the back of your sweatshirt so you’ll relax back against his chest.

“Why are you embarrassed?” He asks, running his hands over your thighs and up your hips. Your stomach clenches a bit when he slowly works his hand up your shirt and brushes his knuckles against your abdomen. He knows not to go any higher than your waist, that your breasts are so sore you’ll cry if he touches them, but he touches everywhere else. “I told you, I’m thirty years old. I’m not grossed out by your period, sweetheart. I hate that you’re in so much pain and if I can do anything to help,” one hand slides down the front of your stomach and his fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your panties, “I’m going to.”

His fingers slide lower and you tense a little, knowing he’s going to hit up against the pad and even though he’s so chill about it, you’re not. “Relax, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs into your ear, kissing your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” You nod faintly, forcing yourself back against Brady’s broad chest, feeling the hardening ridge of his erection against your lower back. That helps, and when Brady’s fingers finally start to stroke your swollen, sensitive flesh, you shudder a little and then relax completely. His movements are maybe less firm than usual, his fingers slipping around a little more. He takes his time, finding your clit easily and circling it with the tip of his index finger.

“Oh, Brady,” you gasp his name, sliding down his chest a bit, opening your legs wider so he has better access. Your eyes flutter closed and Brady’s free hand rests on your left inner thigh, holding it open.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, angling and reaching forward. His middle finger is at your entrance, carefully pressing inside. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

You shake your head. Heat is building in your stomach, the throbbing between your legs overtaking the pain of your cramps. “Not enough,” you sigh, breaking off into a little gasp when Brady’s thumb presses a little more firmly over your clit. You blink rapidly, his fingers slipping too easily from where you need him. “I…more…s’fine. Put your fingers in me, Brady, please.”

Brady’s middle finger slides in, deeper and deeper until the knuckles of his other fingers are pressed against your folds. “Whatever you need,” Brady says, running his other hand over the outside of your thigh. Your legs start to tremble and he pumps his finger and out of you, sliding easier than he normally would with just your arousal to help. You try not to think about the kind of mess his hand is going to be covered in. He crooks the finger and taps against your inner wall and your stomach clenches.

“Oh!” You gasp, clenching around his finger. “More, Brady. I’m so…I need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, taking his free hand and brushing your hair off your face. He kisses your neck, sucking gently while he wiggles his ring finger up next to his middle finger inside your cunt. His thumb ghosts over your swollen clit and you bite back a moan, grinding down on his fingers. “Come on, sweetheart. You feeling good? Tell me what you need.”

“Faster,” you whine, your stomach tightening with every pump of Brady’s fingers. The sound his fingers are making as they work in and out of you is obscene even when it’s partially muffled by your shorts, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when it feels so good. Brady wraps his free hand around your thigh, pulling it open slightly so he has more room to work. His hand is trapped by the constraints of fabric and can only move so fast. But the pace he’s pumping into you is perfect. His fingers slide deeper inside of you, pressing against your g-spot and your toes curl against the mattress, a low wail escaping from your lips. You clamp your mouth shut, face flushing hot with embarrassment at how loud you’re being.

Brady keeps pumping his fingers, murmuring in your ear, “go ahead, sweetheart. Be as loud as you want while you come for me. Scream, let me hear you.”

He flicks his thumb over your clit and you scream his name, your entire body going taut as he works his fingers harder, bringing you right to the edge. Your orgasm builds low in your stomach, a coil of heat and tension. His fingers curl and you finally let go, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that loosens your entire body. It’s not the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had, but it’s strong enough, making your brain a little fuzzy and sending endorphins rushing through your veins. Your head drops back against Brady’s shoulder and he peppers your exposed neck with soft kisses. He mumbles terms of endearment against your skin, encouraging your orgasm with his words as his fingers continue to work you through the aftershocks.

You slump back against Brady’s chest and his free arm wraps around your waist. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” Your legs are a little shaky and you stretch out, inadvertently clenching around Brady’s fingers.

A satisfied hum leaves your throat even as Brady sucks in a breath from the feeling of being knuckles deep in your cunt. His cock stirs against your lower back and in the back of your mind, you feel a little bad for him, that he’s going to have to use his hand in the shower. But your cramps have settled to a minimal ache that’s completely bearable, so you tuck your head under Brady’s chin and mumble, “thank you, baby. That was perfect.”

“Happy to be your personal orgasm provider,” Brady chuckles, pulling his hand from the waistband of your shorts. You wince at the blood that streaks his skin, reddish-brown and dripping down to his wrist. Behind you, Brady shrugs a little and wipes his hand on the towel under your bodies. He kisses the side of your head. “Sweetheart, gotta clean up for a minute. I’m gonna go clean off and uh, take care of something.”

The ‘something’ is pressing insistently against your lower back and you manage a soft hum of empathy as you lean forward so Brady can slide off the bed. He snatches the towel out from under you in one smooth move, balling it up in his hands. “Mhm, clean your hand and come back, I’ll take care of you,” you offer sleepily. The orgasm has your head fuzzy and your entire body relaxed.

Brady kisses your forehead and you slump against the pillows. “Take a nap,” he grins against your skin. “I’ve got this.”

You hum again, wriggling against the warm sheets. Brady chuckles lowly and you hear him pad off into the bathroom. The shower turns on and you can imagine Brady stripping down to nothing, his cock jutting out proudly, stepping under the spray and gripping himself. Your clit gives a faint throb at the mental image - honestly, it could be a memory with how often you’ve had sex with Brady in that shower - and you press your thighs together. Now that your cramps have faded away and the initial embarrassment and awkwardness of sex on your period is cleared from your mind courtesy of Brady’s fingers, you’re feeling horny. Mingled with the sleepy haze, you can’t really do too much about it except press your thighs tighter together and listen to Brady’s grunts and moans that the running water can’t cover up. You press your face into the pillow, wiggling and clenching around nothing, biting down hard on your lower lip when Brady’s strangled ‘fuck!’ echoes from the bathroom a few moments later.

The water shuts off and you’re feeling more awake, the fuzz in your brain from the orgasm fading away. You can hear Brady moving around in the bathroom and he emerges a few minutes later in a cloud of shampoo and Dove soap scented steam. He’s back in his grey sweats and black t-shirt, with the towels balled up under his arm. His hair is damp, darker than usual from the water, and slicked off his face, which is tinged pink from the hot water. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, all of your blood pooling between your legs.

“Thought you were gonna nap?” He says, eyes twinkling.

You manage to shake your head. “Not sleepy,” you say, rolling onto your side.

Brady’s grin is teasing as he comes to stand at the side of the bed. “Guess I didn’t do my job well enough,” he jokes, leaning one knee down on the mattress, making it dip under his weight. His warm, broad palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb swiping over your cheekbone. “Let me throw on a load of laundry and order some dinner for later, then I’ll come back and cuddle, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning into his touch. You lick your lower lip and Brady tracks the movement, but says nothing. He nudges your cheek with the knuckle of his index finger and heads out of the bedroom. You watch him leave, eyes locked onto his stupidly firm ass. With a frustrated exhale, you slump further back into the pillows, surrounded by Brady’s scent. You yawn, surprising yourself with how quickly your energy levels shifted the second Brady was out of the room. You let your eyelids flutter shut, figuring you’ll just get in a quick little nap before jumping your boyfriend.

By the time Brady slips back into bed, you’re more than halfway to sleep, eyes closed and limbs loose. He settles himself on his side of the bed and you gravitate towards him naturally. “Warm,” you mumble, tucking your head under his chin and pressing the tip of your nose against the hollow of his throat. Brady’s arms tighten around you, the best kind of weighted blanket.

“Ordered Chinese for later,” he tells you quietly. “With extra fortune cookies.”

“My hero,” you grin sleepily against his skin. He’s really so warm, like a personal radiator, and you sling your leg over his hip, notching your core against his groin without really comprehending it. The stretch feels good on your sore hip and lower back muscles and Brady slots one leg over yours, his muscled thigh pressing gently against your cunt. He can feel the warmth of you through the leg of his sweats and his cock twitches behind the fabric.

“Anything for my girl,” he says, stroking your hair and back, lulling you right to sleep in the warm cocoon of his embrace.

It’s not a very long nap, less than half an hour, but you wake up feeling semi-refreshed. Your cramps are starting to increase in intensity again and you’ve shifted while you slept so that you’re pressed flush against Brady’s half-hard cock, leg wrapped snugly around his hip. His thigh is pushed against your cunt, making it throb. He smells so fucking good and one of his hands is resting low on the curve of your ass. You wiggle experimentally and Brady laughs above you, his chest vibrating.

“Was wondering how long you were gonna sleep,” he says, bringing his hand over your hip to run against the outside of your thigh. “You’ve been making these little noises,” he continues and he sounds half tortured. “Little sighs and grunts. Feeling okay?”

You can’t think, not with his thigh in between your legs, his cock nudging against you. Your stomach flips, not with the cramps though, and you grind yourself over his thigh. Brady’s hand moves to grip your hip, helping guide you over his thigh. He laughs a little, “guess I have my answer. You want more than this, sweetheart, or you just want to use me?”

“I don’t know,” you tuck your chin to your chest, your forehead pressing into the hard edge of his collarbone. Your hips move and it feels good but it’s not enough, not with the extra layer of your pad between you. You can’t get enough friction and you whine low in your throat. “Brady, need you, please, I don’t…” you babble, trying to figure out what you need even as heat builds low in your stomach. The hand that isn’t on your hip falls to your ass and kneads gently, his fingers digging into your skin.

Brady drops a kiss to the crown of your head and mumbles, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you.” He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You plant your palms flat on his chest and grind brazenly against his cock, sighing happily at the increased pressure. His hands grip at your hips and he helps you grind down harder, “this good for you, sweetheart? You going to get off like this?”

You shake your head against his chest - no, this isn’t enough for you. It feels good and the tension is building in your stomach, a gush of arousal and, likely, blood flooding between your legs. It’s like the feeling of sneezing on your period, but worse and you almost hate it. “Can I - can,” you stumble over the request, knowing that it’s gross, starting to feel embarrassed again. “Ugh,” you frown into his shirt, rolling your hips against his like a teenager, “I need more, Brady.”

He nods seriously and lifts you gently off of him, setting you on the mattress. When you whine at the loss of contact and grab at his shirt, he clicks his tongue and says, “trust me, I’m going to give you everything you want. Just gotta get another towel, okay?” He untangles your fingers from his shirt and kisses your fingertips before practically hopping out of bed and beelining for the linen closet. He’s back before you can process, laying out the towel and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Brady tugs at the waist of your shorts, “these are coming off and then you’re gonna tell me how you want it. You want me on top or is that going to be too much?”

His voice is soft with concern for your pleasure and a shiver works its way down your spine. You wiggle your hips and reach for the waistband of Brady’s sweats, curling your fingers beneath the fabric. His cock tents the front of the sweats, a perfect imprint in the fabric for you to stare at. Brady’s big and he knows it, knows that when he gets going it’s a pleasure-pain sort of stretch. When you ride him it’s a little easier to control the pace and how deep he can hit. A cramp ripples through your lower stomach and back and you wince, making a decision.

“Wanna be on top,” you chew at your lower lip, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Brady’s sweats and brushing against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

“Whatever you need, baby,” he grins, certainly not going to object to having you ride him. He hisses when your fingertips graze his cock, twitching under your touch. He pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug, the pressure easing some of the soreness in your body, before ducking his head to capture your lips with his. You melt into his arms, licking at his lower lip until he opens his mouth for you. Liquid heat rushes through your body, warmth pooling low in your stomach. Brady deepens the kiss and moves a hand up to tangle in your hair. He tugs gently, manoeuvring your head to the side so he can change the angle of the kiss.

You sigh into his mouth and Brady turns so he can sit down on the bed after he breaks the kiss. “Pants off, sweetheart,” he grins, scooting back so he’s sitting on the towel, his back against the headboard. He tosses all the pillows to the other side of the bed so they can stay clean.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest from the kiss and you only hesitate briefly before you shimmy your shorts down your legs, kicking them off your ankles and off to the side. “You next,” you grin, another flood of arousal pooling between your legs when Brady gives you that cocky smirk you love so much. He pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it to the floor and messing up his hair. A few strands fall over his forehead and he makes no move to brush them to the side. The fading sunlight glints against the greys and another pulse of desire throbs through you.

His hands fall to his crotch and he grabs at himself through the grey fabric, emphasising just how big and hard he is. With a groan, Brady grinds his heel over the base of his cock through the fabric, a little damp spot from his pre-cum turning it a darker grey. He makes a show of it, pulling the waistband of his sweats down one side of his hip and then the other, the red, leaking tip of his cock appearing above the elastic. You lick your lips again and Brady lifts his hips off the mattress so he can pull his sweats down further, tucking the band under his balls and letting his cock spring free. He’s thick and hard and curves towards his stomach. His balls are full and heavy looking, resting on the band of his sweats and it’s stupidly erotic, the fact that he’s keeping his pants on.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping a few times to get himself as hard as possible, “sit on it and I’ll make you feel good.”

Even as arousal floods between your legs, you hesitate, thinking of the mix of blood there as well. “You’re sure?” You ask, twisting your fingers in the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Brady’s hand is still wrapped around his cock and you can barely focus on anything other than the pre-cum leaking from the red, angry looking tip. Your clit gives a painful little throb in time with a twinge of a cramp in your lower stomach. Your body knows how it feels to have that broad head of him push past your folds and it’s reacting.

Brady leans forward, his hand falling away to rest on the mattress, “hey, if you don’t want to, I’m good. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart.” He smiles, eyes crinkling up at the corner, “I’ll make myself presentable and we can watch TV or something.” His cock bobs in his lap, bumping up against his stomach and to his credit, Brady barely winces at the sensation against his sensitive tip.

His willingness to go along with your mood changes only makes you want him more, so before you can second (or third) guess yourself, you rush into the bathroom to wiggle out of your panties and get rid of the pad, hurrying back into the bedroom with your thighs clenched together so you don’t get anything on the carpet. Brady’s lips are pressed together to suppress a little laughter at the way you’re moving and you roll your eyes at him. “Laughing at me isn’t very nice, Mr. Skjei,” you huff with faux annoyance.

Brady opens his arms and cocks an eyebrow, “I would never laugh at you.” His gaze drops between your legs and you flush hot.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you grumble. “I’m not wearing pants.”

“That’s exactly why I’m looking at you,” Brady teases in a low voice. He pauses and mutters, “oh fuck,” before leaning to his side, reaching for the drawer on his bedside table. “Should’ve done this while you were in the bathroom,” he mumbles, withdrawing a condom.

“It’s like you’ve never done this before,” you tease with a giggle, watching Brady’s movements like a hawk. His fingers deftly tear into the foil and wrap around his cock again so he can roll the condom over his length. He pumps himself a few more times and it seems like his cock swells in front of your eyes, filling the latex obscenely. You press your thighs together tighter, throbbing and ready to sit on him.

He mock glares at you, “making fun of the man who’s planning on giving you multiple orgasms to help your cramps is a low move, sweetheart.” He crooks his fingers at you. “Now come here so we can get to work on that pain relief.”

Your stomach tightens and you shuffle over to the bed, awkwardly trying to get up onto the mattress without dripping everywhere. “Brady…” you can’t help the little whine that escapes your lips and he takes pity on you, leaning onto one hip and wrapping his hands around your waist to haul you up on the bed. You kneel at his side and throw your leg over his lap, straddling him with your back to him. As soon as you open your legs, it feels like a tidal wave of liquid, even though you know that’s not how it works. At worst, a few drops of blood and arousal make their way down your inner thighs and you know they’ll be stopped by the fabric of Brady’s sweats. Even still, you feel impossibly exposed.

“What are you doing?” Brady asks, smoothing one hand down over your ass cheek and giving it a quick squeeze. His other hand is warm on your outer thigh. “I don’t get to see that gorgeous face?”

“No,” you huff, hovering over him with your knees planted on the mattress on either side of his thighs. “I don’t want you that deep, it’s going to hurt.”

“Okay,” Brady kisses behind your ear, “whatever you need, sweetheart.” He grips the base of his cock in one hand and rests the other hand on the curve of your hip. “Ready?”

You nod, chewing at the inside of your cheek, your inner thighs already trembling. Brady lines himself up at your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging against you. You sink down on him with a sigh, the stretch of him filling you forcing all the air from your lungs. Behind you, Brady grunts at the feeling of you sinking down on his cock, his grip on your hip tightening. His hand pulls away from his cock and he gets a solid grip on your hips, making sure you don’t sit on him too fast, giving you time to adjust. Inch by inch, you take him, bracing your hands on his thighs in front of you.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Brady rasps an encouragement in your ears, holding your hips like his life depends on it. “That’s it, let me fill you up.”

It’s so easy to have him slide into you, easier than usual due to the extra slickness from your period. You can feel the mix of your blood and arousal drip down your thighs, surrounding his cock.

You babble his name, gasping when you sink down onto the final few inches of him, your ass making contact with his lap. He’s fully sheathed inside of you, thick and hard, still so deep despite the position that you imagine you can feel him all the way up to your throat.

Brady’s still underneath you, the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your thighs as he lets you get adjusted. You lean back against his chest carefully, the underside of his cock rubbing pleasantly against your swollen clit. A soft whine works its way up your throat and Brady’s hands trail from your hips down to the inside of your thighs, pulling gently to open you up further. “No, no,” you mumble, “too wide. Too much.” You squirm on his lap, trying to catch your breath from just the sensation of Brady keeping you full.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he kisses your neck, gently rolling his hips up into yours, making you gasp. Your nipples tighten into painfully hard points, desperate for Brady’s hands. “Tell me what you need.”

You grind down on Brady’s cock instead of responding, slowly riding him to build up the coil of pleasure in your lower stomach. You clench around him and Brady grunts into your hair again, fingers flexing around your thighs. “Fingers, Brady, I need…” you mumble, head thrown back to rest on his shoulder. “More, need more friction.”

The slow glide of his cock in and out of your cunt, against your clit, is pleasurable, but not nearly enough. Brady’s fingers are on your clit in the next second, pinching gently, and you gasp out his name, arching your back and forcing his cock deeper into your cunt. “Yes, yes, there. More…please, B-brady!”

“So fucking wet, baby,” he murmurs, one hand on your hip to help you ride him. His fingers work deftly over your swollen clit, sliding around easily. He bends one knee, planting his foot on the mattress and driving his cock even deeper.

You yelp, leaning forward to brace yourself, fisting the material of his sweats. “Stop, too deep, too much,” you whine, pushing at his knee so he’ll flatten his leg again. He compromises, straightening his leg a bit, but still keeping it partially bent. You breathe heavily, panting as you ride Brady’s cock. Pleasure builds in your lower stomach, hot and tight, growing as Brady’s fingers keep sliding over your clit, his cock thick in your cunt. He glides his hand over your back, down over your ass cheek, kneading your flesh.

“Come on, baby,” he encourages you in a strangled voice. “Use my cock. Know you can do it.”

You grab Brady’s wrist, holding his fingers against your clit, pressing down for friction and Brady takes the hint, rolling your swollen nub between his fingers, keeping his hand in place between your legs. Still gripping his wrist, feeling his muscles and tendons move under your fingers, you bounce on his cock. The sound is obscenely wet, filling the bedroom, louder than your breathless little moans and whimpers. Brady’s hand is tight on your hip, guiding you up and down on his cock while he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“Brady, please, faster….I need….” you break off, chanting his name when he bucks his hips up into yours, meeting you thrust for thrust. His cock swells inside of you, painfully thick, and you reach down with your free hand to stroke at his balls, skimming your nails over the sensitive skin. Brady moans against your neck and his hand moves from your hip, wrapping his forearm around your lower stomach, adding more pressure and guiding you to lean forward slightly. Your nipples brush painfully against the fabric of your sweatshirt and you yelp, clenching involuntarily around Brady’s cock.

He thrusts up into you, thumb planted firmly on your clit and tears roll down your cheeks from the simulation, grinding down on Brady’s pelvis. You let go of his wrist and brace yourself on his thighs again, leaning forward and bouncing on him, the underside of his cock sliding against your clit. That, combined with Brady’s fingers, sends you over the edge, black spots dancing in front of your vision as your orgasm rips through your body. You chant Brady’s name, barely coherent while you rock on him, his cock hitting deep. Brady’s palm presses flat against your lower stomach and you let go, feeling your body gush around his cock.

“So good, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs, sounding dazed. “Keep riding, honey, take what you need.”

You cry out when he thrusts up into you, overwhelmed by sensation, but don’t stop circling your hips over his. Your brain is melted into a puddle of sensation, all of your nerve endings on fire as you clench around him again and Brady’s abdomen tenses. He hauls you flush against his chest when he finishes, shouting your name and filling the condom with cum. He reaches down and grasps the base of his cock, pumping himself into you and filling the condom faster. The warmth of it is different than when you decide to forgo the condom, but you still hum happily in Brady’s arms, stretched wide over his cock, your thighs trembling on either side of his lap.

“Brady…” you mumble his name, turning your head to bury your face in his neck while he fills the condom. Your hands grasp at his forearm wrapped around your waist and he peppers your face with soft kisses, grunting into your mouth when he’s wrung dry.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mutters against the corner of your mouth. “Got carried away at the end,” he brushes his knuckles against your sensitive clit and you shiver in his arms. “So fucking hot and wet.”

“S’okay,” you slur your words, your body coming down from the orgasm and leaving you limp against Brady’s chest. “I liked it. Felt good - feels good,” you amend, clenching absently around Brady’s softening cock. Every thought and sensation other than being filled up by Brady is gone from your head. He laughs against your skin and you can feel him wipe his hand off on the towel under his ass.

Your thighs and ass feel wet, sitting in a mixture of blood, your arousal, and Brady’s cum, and you wrinkle your nose a little, shifting on his lap. You can’t help but look down at Brady’s lap and you regret it almost immediately. His lap is soaked in your combined fluids, the grey of his sweats stained red. His cum is leaking out of the condom, out of your cunt, and dripping down his balls to pool on the towel. “Oh, Brady!” You yelp, less drowsy now, trying to scramble off of his lap. “Your sweats, the towel!”

Brady adjusts his grip on you so you can’t go very far. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve never liked these sweats anyway,” he jokes, gently manhandling you so he can slide out of your cunt and pull off the condom. He ties it off efficiently and makes no comment about the mess of his hands and lap.

“Well I liked them,” you pout, cheeks heating up for a different reason. “This was such a mess.”

“Are your cramps gone?” Brady asks, carefully swinging his legs to the side so he can stand up. You’re still pressed close to his chest, on your feet too now, thighs pressed together to prevent anything getting on the floor. The towel on the bed looks like a crime scene. Brady lets go of you briefly so he can tug his sweats up to rest on his hips, but then his hand is on your hip again, nudging you towards the bathroom.

“Yes,” you reply, toddling on shaky legs.

“Then it was worth it,” he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Get in the shower, I’ll clean up and join you.”

He tosses the condom in the wastebasket and wipes his hand on his thigh - the sweats are clearly a lost cause - before he reaches out and swiftly pulls your sweatshirt over your head. You shiver at the cold air on your sensitive nipples and Brady grins at you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. You wrinkle your nose, but nod, bracing yourself for Brady’s tongue to flick gently over one nipple. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your breast. “You know I feel bad not paying attention to your entire gorgeous body.”

Despite the sensitivity, both nipples tighten just from Brady looking at them and you resist the urge to cross your arms over your chest. He’s seen everything, there’s no point in being embarrassed. You reach behind you and turn the shower on, making sure the knob is on a high temperature. “Don’t even bother trying to save the towel,” you sigh, “just toss it.”

“That was the plan,” Brady winks, kissing your forehead before disappearing from the bathroom. He leaves the door open behind him and once you step into the shower - groaning in pleasure when the scalding hot water hits your sore muscles - you can see him in the mirror, wadding up the towel and stripping the sheets from the bed. You really hope the sheets aren’t ruined since they’re beyond comfortable.

“Just swapping them for fresh ones,” Brady calls out to you, apparently a mind reader now.

You smile to yourself and focus on scrubbing shampoo into your hair, the eucalyptus scented steam relaxing your entire body. By the time you’re rinsing and repeating, Brady’s stepping into the shower behind you, sliding warm broad hands over your waist. He leans in and brushes his nose against your ear, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin at the hinge of your jaw.

“Hi,” you giggle, wiggling a little in his grip. Your legs are shaky.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, massaging at your lower stomach. You lean into his touch, still trying to work shampoo into your hair.

“I always smell like this,” you reply, ducking your head under the spray and letting the suds wash down your body. Brady’s fingers trail along with the soap, drawing lazy patterns against your wet skin. You shiver under his touch, unsurprised when the familiar tingle of pleasure starts at the base of your spine, in between your legs.

Brady notices the subtle move of your thighs and he lets his fingers trace the crease of your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Smell like mine,” he murmurs. “My girl.” His fingers move to the left, mere inches, and tease at your entrance. The tip of his middle finger circles your clit, still swollen and sensitive and you can’t believe you’re about to let him give you a third orgasm.

“Brady,” you gasp his name a little, closing your eyes against the sensation. Your hips cant towards his fingers, chasing his touch.

“Sweetheart,” Brady groans against your neck, his cock twitching against the back of your thigh. “Gotta let me feel you. No mess in the shower.”

He continues to slowly, gently circle your clit, making your brain fuzzy again and your knees week. You press a palm against the shower wall to hold you up, but there’s no chance of falling, not with Brady’s arms wrapped securely around you. You whine when Brady’s finger slips inside your cunt, curling gently.

“Feels good?” He asks, massaging at your lower stomach with his other hand. You nod against his shoulder. “Good,” he continues, “just want you to feel good.”

Brady’s usually chatty during sex, but this feels different, his words alternating between concern and filth, his fingers working their way over your clit. You can feel yourself dripping for him, slick and hot. “Brady, Brady… p-please,” you hiccup the words when he grinds his hardening cock against the split of your asscheeks. “Give me more.”

You plant both of your hands on the wall and widen your stance, feeling Brady line himself up at your entrance. The broad head of his cock slides through your folds, entering your cunt with an easy roll of Brady’s hips. You moan his name, still stretched out from earlier, so the feel of him inside of you is just pleasure. He kisses a hot trail over your shoulders, sucking gently at your pulse point, laughing when he can feel your heart skip a beat at the feeling of his fingers pressing against your clit.

“Feels so good,” he groans, thrusting into you, more gently than you’d expect. The drag of his cock against your inner walls has you clenching around him, arching your back, pressing your ass firmly against his pelvis. One of his hands holds your hip in place while he thrusts and the other snakes down your stomach to play with your clit. Brady’s fingers bump up against his own cock and he grunts, choking off the noise. You can feel his cock twitch from the contact.

Honestly, if you had known that being on your period would make the both of you this horny, you might’ve given in to period sex months ago.

Brady drives his cock into you deeper, punching air from your lungs in a sharp gasp. Your head falls forward, chin to your chest, and you watch with hazy vision as Brady’s cock splits you open. Water drips down your face, into your open mouth, nearly drowning you until you spit a little, angling your face away from the stream.

You’d barely come down from your last orgasm when Brady shuffled you into the shower, so it’s easier for him to build up this one. Pleasure works it’s way through your body, your clit throbbing under Brady’s touch, and before you know it, before you can really focus on it, he’s bullying that third orgasm from your body. Fingers and cock working together to send you over the edge. “Come on, sweetheart,” Brady talks you through the orgasm. “Go ahead, scream, cum on my cock.”

You shriek his name, fingers scrambling on the wet tile for purchase as Brady rocks his hips up into yours, rolling your clit between his thumb and index finger relentlessly. Nonsense words spill from your lips while Brady keeps up his pace and it’s only a few more heartbeats before he’s tightening his arm around your waist, his stomach muscles pulling taut, and spilling inside of you. He groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder, his hair flopping forward and brushing your skin. Brady’s fingers only stutter in their movements when he jerks to a finish inside of you and by then it’s too overwhelming so you reach down to push his hand away, whining that it hurts.

“Sorry, sorry,” Brady mumbles against your shoulder, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss there. He pulls his hips back a little, his softening cock slipping from your cunt and releasing a flood of his hot cum down your inner thighs. You shiver at the sensation, rubbing your thighs together a little and looking down to see the drips of blood and cum wash off your legs and down the drain. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head, dizzy and exhausted. Brady’s palms skim up your stomach and sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, and he turns you so he can kiss you on the mouth. You melt into his touch, warm and pliable for him. Brady kisses the corner of your mouth again, a soft little peck, before he says, “okay, let’s get you cleaned up for real this time.”

A mumbled noise of agreement leaves your body and Brady keeps you propped up with one thick arm around your waist while he gently soaps you up and helps you rinse off. He gives his own body a quick scrub, paying extra attention below the belt, giving you a little smirk when you watch him clean himself up. You lean against the shower wall on shaky legs, letting the hot water keep you warm. You watch him shower, muscles bunching under his skin, and blurt out, “god, I love you.”

Brady rakes his hand through wet hair, slicking it off his face, and looks at you with warm brown eyes. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he grins. He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead before turning the water off and reaching an arm out of the shower to grab one of the big fluffy towels that wait for you. He wraps you up, rubbing his hands over your arms to warm you, and once he’s confident that you’re grasping the towel around your body, he gets a second towel to wrap around his waist. From there, you let yourself be taken care of - Brady leaves you alone in the bathroom to grab you a pair of panties, handing them to you with a knowing smirk, before leaving again so you can get yourself settled with a pad. He’s dressed in a pair of boxers and a worn out University of Minnesota t-shirt when you eventually pad into the bedroom after lotioning up your entire body.

“Sweats or shorts,” Brady holds up both items of clothing and you reach for the pair of his joggers that he offers, wanting to be bundled up and cozy even though it’s not that cold out. You step into the sweats while Brady attempts to pull one of his shirts over your head, only for you to get tangled up in the fabric, blinded by the cotton, and tip forward with a little squeak of surprise. Brady grabs you before you can fall onto the bed, hands hot against the bare skin of your waist. “Ah, shit! Sorry, sweetheart,” his voice is muffled from the fabric around your head and you wiggle from his grip, tugging the shirt down so you can breathe again.

“You already killed me with orgasms,” you huff on a laugh. “No need to actually try and kill me.”

Brady laughs and lifts his hands in the universal sign for surrender. “I’ll let you handle getting dressed,” he chuckles. “Undressing you is my specialty anyway.”

You snort a laugh, managing to get yourself dressed and comfy, the sleeves of Brady’s shirt hanging over your hands. “No more undressing tonight,” you sigh, twisting your wet hair into a loose knot on top of your head before crawling into bed. “I’m tapped out, done, ready for a pile of lo mein the size of my head and a solid eight hours.” You fluff up your pillows and draw the comforter into a little nest shape around your body, curling up like a cat and yawning so wide your jaw cracks.

“Lo mein, I can promise since the delivery should be here any minute,” Brady replies, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. “Eight hours of sleep? Well, if three orgasms doesn’t wear you out enough, I’ll go for four tomorrow.”

You shoot him a sly little smile, even as your eyelids fall slowly closed. “four orgasms? Might have to start complaining of cramps all month long.”

Brady’s laughter fades out as he heads downstairs to check if your food’s been delivered. You snuggle into your little nest of blankets, feeling warm and impossibly relaxed, like all the stress and tension’s been completely removed from your body. You’re pleasantly sore between the legs and you stretch out a little, impatient for Brady to return so you can eat and cuddle up against him.

The mouth-watering smell of Chinese food precedes Brady’s return and you pop up into a sitting position like a cartoon animal, wide awake. Your stomach growls a little too. Brady laughs loudly at the expression on your face. He’s got two white cartons in his hands, a bottle of Gatorade under one arm, a wad of paper towel tucked in the crease of his elbow, and two pairs of chopsticks stuck into the top of one of the cartons. “You’re wide awake now, huh?” He asks, handing over one of the cartons and snatching his hand back like he’s afraid you’ll chew it off. He settles down next to you with his own carton, placing the Gatorade and napkins down on his bedside table.

“I am suffering, Brady,” you inform him primly, shoving a wad of noodles into your mouth and chewing happily.

“Poor thing,” your boyfriend pouts at you, taking a bite of his orange chicken. “And here I thought I helped you so much.”

You swing your legs over to drape over Brady’s thigh and lean in to kiss his lower lip. “Oh, you helped very much,” you grin against his mouth. “You’ve been such a big help.”

Brady laughs into your mouth. “See, now I know you’re teasing me, sweetheart. I might not be so generous with my help next time.”

You fake a gasp, “you wouldn’t!”

“Nah, you’re right, I wouldn’t,” Brady leans in to whisper against your ear, “not when I know how needy you are on your period. Or how easy it was to slide into that sweet, wet cunt.”

Lo mein noodles slip off the end of your chopsticks and your entire body flushes with heat. “Brady…” his name leaves your mouth on a shaky exhale and he laughs, rests his hand on the inside of your knee, and leans back against the headboard. His thumb draws lazy circles on the inside of your knee and you shiver a little.

“I’m here for your free use, sweetheart,” he offers, toasting you with the carton of chicken and rice. “Just say the word.”

You kick lightly at the outside of his thigh with your heel, still flustered. “Insatiable,” you murmur, unable to deny the flutter of interest in your lower stomach at Brady’s words.

“You love it,” Brady counters, feeding you a piece of orange chicken. You hum, not about to lie to him, and lean forward to get closer to the heat Brady’s radiating off his body. You’re both quiet for a bit while you eat, trading bites off each other’s chopsticks. You sip at your mostly warm raspberry Arizona, starting to feel sleepy again from the food and the warmth off Brady’s body. You don’t even realize that your head is drooping forward to rest against Brady’s bicep until he gently takes the mostly empty carton from your hands and sets it on the bedside table.

“Hey, time to sleep a little,” he says softly, lifting your legs off his lap and straightening them out so your entire body shifts.

You hum, eyes shut, and press your face into your pillow, scooting around and getting comfortable. Brady pulls the comforter over your chest, making sure your back is covered and you’re cocooned in the warmth. You reach out a hand from the covers and grab Brady’s wrist, wiggling your fingers until he laces his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses your fingertips. “I’m going to clean up, get some stuff ready for tomorrow, and I’ll be back,” he says against your fingers.

“Best Brady ever,” you mumble through a yawn, hearing his chuckle.

He strokes a piece of hair off your forehead and you’re passed out before he can let go of your hand and climb out of bed.

Cuddled under the covers, you don’t quite manage an uninterrupted eight hours of sleep, but when you wake up in the middle of the night with Brady’s entire body wrapped around yours, legs tangled together, heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek, you don’t really mind.

#brady skjei #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei x you #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine

114 notes · View notes