Tumgik
#because it wasn’t what i wanted deep down
qveerthe0ry · 2 days
Text
Your Ride, Best Trip
Tumblr media
Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time
Marcus Pike is perfect. 
He’s your dream man. 
He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.
He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 
He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 
He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 
See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 
How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 
So you asked him what was up, and he told you.
Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 
You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.
After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.
You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 
And then he finally kissed you.
It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 
You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 
But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.
You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 
It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 
You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 
His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 
When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 
You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 
“Sweetheart—”
His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 
“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 
But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 
You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 
“What do you want?” 
His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 
“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 
But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 
“You’re lying.” 
You sigh and close your eyes. 
“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 
You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 
“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 
It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—
“I have a small dick.” 
His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.
He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 
“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 
He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 
“Marcus…”
“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“
“Marcus.”
You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.
“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 
He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 
“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 
You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 
Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 
“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 
He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 
“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”
“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 
He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 
“Everyone?” 
You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 
He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 
“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”
He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 
“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?
All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”
He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 
“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 
There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 
“Really?”
You scoff. 
“Really really.”
A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 
“Why?”
“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”
His face flushes, but he lets you continue.
“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”
“Me too,” he whispers.
“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”
You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 
“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah… For one, your hands.”
“My hands?”
He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 
“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”
He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 
“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”
He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.
“And I love to give head.”
“Jesus.”
“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 
“Sweetheart—”
“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”
He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 
You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 
“You’re not lying.”
His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 
“Fuck.”
It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 
“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 
That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 
His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 
You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 
You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 
Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 
You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 
Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 
But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 
He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 
“I think about you, too. All the time.” 
You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 
“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 
Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 
“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”
Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 
He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 
His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 
“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 
The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 
“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”
You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 
He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 
He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 
“Marcus—”
“I know, I know.”
His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 
“Can I?”
You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 
“Oh, are you that sensitive?”
His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 
“It’s just you.” 
And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 
And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 
“So sweet, huh?”
You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 
He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 
“That’s all for me?” 
There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.
But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 
He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 
“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 
The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 
“Yes, please.”
He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 
Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 
You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 
It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 
“You sure you’re ready?”
You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.
“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”
He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 
The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 
He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 
His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.
“You’re soaked.” 
His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 
The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 
Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 
There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 
You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 
“That feel good, sweetheart?”
Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 
“You have no idea.”
He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 
“I think I do,” he mumbles.
He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 
You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 
All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 
You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 
Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 
But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 
You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 
“That’s it. This what you needed?”
A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.
He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 
“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 
You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 
You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 
He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 
“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 
You huff. 
You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 
Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 
“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 
He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.
He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 
He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 
All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 
The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 
Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 
All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 
Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 
A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 
His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 
“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 
You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 
His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 
It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 
“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 
To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 
All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 
As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 
His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 
He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 
Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 
His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 
And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 
You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 
Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 
“So… How’d it compare?” 
Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 
“Pardon?”
But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 
“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 
You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 
“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 
He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 
You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 
“Better,” you whisper. 
You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 
And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 
You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 
You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 
He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 
His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 
So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 
But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 
But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 
“Will you let me suck it?” 
All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 
“Please.” 
It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 
He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 
You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 
So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 
Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 
You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 
He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 
His little cock. 
It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 
And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 
You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.
When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 
You’ll make him look, one way or another. 
For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 
He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 
And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 
It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 
You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 
You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 
Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 
You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 
It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 
You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 
“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”
Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 
He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 
He says your name. 
You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 
He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 
“Sweetheart, stop, please.”
You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 
“Are you okay?”
He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 
“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”
“Marcus.” 
His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.
“Do you want to fuck me?” 
You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 
“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”
He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 
“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”
His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 
“Yeah? You still want it?” 
His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 
“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 
You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 
“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 
You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 
For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.
The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 
He’s so hot. 
It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 
“Please,” you whisper. 
He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 
“Perfect, sweetheart.”
He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 
“Are you ready?”
You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 
You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 
You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.
“Oh fuck.”
You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 
“Fuck, Marcus, please.”
You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 
He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 
But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 
And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 
“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 
Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 
“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”
A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 
“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”
You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 
“Yes ma’am.”
Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 
He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 
His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 
But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 
His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.
Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.
“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 
Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 
“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”
His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 
Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 
There’s screaming. 
You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 
“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”
“In me.”
Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 
His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 
He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 
His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 
“Jesus,” he says.
Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 
“Huh?” 
God, how are you ever going to move again? 
“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”
Christ, why is he using such big words? 
“What are you talking about?” 
He clears his throat. 
“You like— You squirted?”
You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 
“I what?”
You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 
“Yeah, like, a lot.”
He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 
You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.
“What?” 
“Why do you seem so surprised?”
His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 
“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”
He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 
He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 
You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 
He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 
“Hi,” he whispers. 
You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.
It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 
Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 
“That was—”
“It’s never—”
You both chuckle. 
“Ladies first.”
You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 
“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 
“It’s never been that good.”
A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 
It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?
You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 
“When can we go again?”
309 notes · View notes
kyunzin · 2 days
Text
𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
Tumblr media
✰ characters ✰ 𝐘. 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧
✰ summary ✰ don’t say things you don’t mean, unless you do mean them. in that case eren can fulfil all your requests (f!reader)
✰ tags/warnings ✰ nsfw, ex!eren, alcohol use, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, cum eating, squirting. praise kink, overstimulation, pussy licking
✰ kyun’s note ✰ it’s been long overdue, two long fics in a row is tough gang dont do this at home. also sorry for any spelling mistakes i am sleep derived
Tumblr media
it was definitely a good idea to go out with the girls
it was probably a bad idea to not send eren home with all the drinks you had earlier clouding your judgment
it was absolutely going to hurt in the morning but that is the last thing that's on your mind right now it will be a problem for later
you and eren had gotten together in high school and stayed together for the duration of high school. the both of you being fairly well known though he was more popular than you were.
the both of you had different passions and wanted to peruse different careers. him wanting to play basketball professionally and you didn’t really want to have a boring 9-5 either so you chose to be an influencer.
you both supported each other and both of you became very successful in what you did. eren signing with a good team and you having nearly up to a million followers. you made sure to go to every one of his games and he would be sure to mention you on his socials and even point to you at games.
the two of you even had a child together who both of your fans adored. you had him early in both of your careers and had enough money to support him growing up, the two of you thought that you would be able to live the rest of your lives as a family.
that was until about 4 years later when eren’s schedule became to hectic and he spent more time practicing and being out of the country for games to even be home with you, there was a gradual build up to that which you thought you could get through but in the end you realised it was too much for you and he accepted that.
in the end the both of you decided to spilt apart as is was just too much on you. both of your fan bases were sad to see their favourite couple break apart but you assured them that it was mutual and the two of you ended on good terms, deep down you still loved him but you let him go knowing it was for the better.
eren always made sure to send money to support both him and you even though you told him that he didnt need to send you money as well. he also did regular calls to check in to see how the both of you were doing, and when he was back in the country he made sure to see you if he could spending time with his son and even you.
you know he loved his son from the way he would always get souvenirs from countries when he was out and even got some jerseys from his sons favourite players even if he did pout complaining because he wasn’t his favourite.
this went on for about a year and it worked really well for the three of you, your sons fifth birthday passed with eren doing his all to be there buying him an expensive gift that your son absolutely loved. eren had lately had been spending more time over due to the season, there not being a lot of games and you decided you wanted to go out since it had been a while.
eren has said he would take care of your son while you went out with your friends saying that you deserved the time to have fun. he took your son over to his house so that you could get ready in peace telling you he would keep him for the weekend so you could relax.
once the both of them had left the house you called both sasha and mikasa telling them the plans and they decided to come over to help you get ready. they arrived soon with their things and the three of you started to get ready.
you had your hair and make up done all that was left was your outfit. you had no idea what to wear as it had been a long time since you had gotten dressed up like this, the girls made their way to you closet and started picking through your stuff looking for something for you to wear.
being pregnant had made big changes to you body which left you feeling less than confident after your giving birth but as the years went by some changes left and some stayed. for one your tits and ass filled out as well as you hips getting wider giving you a near hourglass figure.
you were pretty self conscious about your body but everyone around you encouraged you to embrace your new body as they said it made you look sexy and you believed them, looking at yourself differently you loved your new self.
the girls had picked out a dress you don’t even remember buying. a long-sleeve red dress that stopped just under you ass with red cross slits trailing down the side exposing some skin. you paired it with a classic set of black heels and a red bag to match.
the other two were also ready when you had finished getting dressed so you made sure you had everything you needed and sasha drove you to the club blasting music all the way there.
you got into the flub with no problem all of you being over the required age and the three of you went to get drinks to start your night off, weaving your way through the bustling crowd and over to the bar where you all order your first round of drinks keeping you tab open just in case you want to get more.
you and mikasa take a few more shots sasha only having a few being your designated driver for the night not that she really needed any as she would be asked to have just as much fun either way. after you finished your drinks the three of you moved over into the dancing crowd losing yourselves to the music.
you swung your body to the beat of the music sasha in front and mikasa behind you, your as shaking with every sway of your hips. you could tell that many men wanted to join you but you could see both of the girls pushing the away as they know about your lingering feelings for eren.
the song changes and you recognise it as ‘mad at me by sexxy red’ realising that you know the lyrics and you start singing it along with the others in the room, knowing it lyric for lyric shaking your ass to the beat people around you dancing to the music.
when the next line come on you shout it out like there's no tomorrow “fuck me like you mad at me baby, I need a freak to drive me crazy!” and you sing the rest of the song with the same passion until it finishes and you’re out of breath.
the next song plays and you feel all the energy you had from before now depleted and decide to go pay for your last drink of the night leaving sasha and mikasa on the dance floor.
it didn’t take long for you to reach the bar and pay but on your way back to the girls some one stopped you trying to pull you for a dance. but you quickly pushed them away not in the mood walking to your friends even faster.
you get to the girls in record speed in no time though all the remaining energy you had no completed, the girls notice this and decide it’s time for you all to go home.
you drip mikasa home first knowing she has to go to bed for work in the morning. and then sahsa takes you back to your house with you dozing off on the way back. you didn’t even realise that you had faleen asleep until you felt sasha gently shake you awake.
thanking her for the ride home you wish her a safe journey back walking up to your front door, stumbling on the short walk due to the alcohol still flowing in your system. checking the time to see that it was almost past midnight and you know that your son should have gone to bed ages ago feeling bad that you couldn’t tell him goodnight.
when you walk in it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light which you were sure you turned off when you left, squinting only to see a figure sitting on the couch. you take off your heels setting them to the side and look up to see the figure still there.
once your eyes get accustomed to the light you realise that’s it’s eren sitting there who has been sitting there staring up at you since you walked in, and you think maybe you’re just hallucinating from the alcohol in your system but upon further inspection you realise that he’s actually there.
“eren? what are you doing here? where’s my baby?”
for a second he doesn’t say anything and just eyes you up but then he speaks up.
“c’mere here baby”
the space between you brows crease at the pet name but you move towards him nonetheless, coming to stand up in from of him looking down at him.
“I dropped him off at my mums place, don’t worry about him for now”
he gently pulls you down to straddle you making your dress ride up a little bit, leaving the two of you face to face. you don’t instantly question his actions but your face conveys your confusion, but instead of saying anything he just sits there rubbing slowly up and down your thighs spread over him.
“what’s going on, is something wrong?”
but instead of answering your question he laughs and pulls out his phone swiping though as if looking for something.
“how about you tell me what this is about first”
you’re confused at first but then once the video starts playing your eyes widen in shock. it’s a video of you in the club singing to “mad at me” shouting the lyrics to the song.
“wanna explain this to me”
he’s still smiling as he says it and you know there's no way to get out of this. there's no possible excuse he would believe after seeing that, which brings up the question of where he got it from.
“who took this video and how do you have it”
he turns off his phone slipping it back into his joggers the action causing you to shift in too of him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as to not fall off him.
“it was posted online and someone sent it to me, and don't try change the subject. what’s this about you wanting to fuck. if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so princess. you know i never say no to you baby”
in truth it had been a while since you were active, though it was mainly because of your lack of time due to taking care of you son as well as working.
part of it had to do with the fact that no dock would be able to compare to eren's. the way he would fuck you was to good for you to ever try it with anyone else.
you had kind of missed this intimate part of your relationship, you knew eren wasn’t the type of guy to sleep around and you are sure if he did you would have found out by now and you didn’t want to seem to desperate by asking him about his life without you as you respected his privacy as he did yours.
“why you silent for pretty, aint got nothing to say or did you really mean what you said. what was it again, you wanted me to fuck you like I was mad at you cause I can do that baby if it’s what you want, do you want that?”
as you contemplate your answer you notice his hands don’t stop but smile drops a serious look falls over his face. he probably knows that your drunk and no os giving you a way out of this.
knowing him if you said no he would step back and act as if it didn’t happen. the thing is that you do want this to happen, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just really pent up and horny but you don’t see a reason to decline his offer.
you nod your head to agree but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that hands stopping to grip at your thighs squeezing them lightly.
“no princess, I need words. you say yes we continue. say no and I’ll take you to bed and go back home, answer me properly”
knowing this is your last chance to back out you appreciate his efforts in order to confirm your consent and it just gives you even more reason to say yes, knowing that he’s being respectful even though he couldn’t have done what he wanted knowing you have no way of defending yourself in this state.
“yes eren, I want this. I want you. fuck me please, i need you“
you hardly have time to register what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and making his way to your old shared bedroom. you wrap you legs around his firm torso and cling onto him tighter, even though you know that there no way he will drop you.
“only since you asked me so nicely, I’ll give you what you need don’t worry baby”
the two of you reach the bed room in record speed and eren gently sets you down on the edge of the bed kneeling down in front of you both of his hands still on the side of your thighs looking up at you with a mischievous grin.
his mouth latches onto you barely clothed sex sucking on your clit in a way that has you gasping out in ecstasy. it’s no lie to say that eren knows every inch of your body inside and out. he knows all the things that make you squirm and scream. where to touch and lick as well as h to e spots indie you that make your arch into his touch.
he moves on from sucking on your clit like a mad man thirsting for water and moves down to you dripping whole, sinking his tongue into your tight heat that hadn’t had any attention for a while. not that there weren’t a few visits from your bullet vibrator it just couldn’t make you cum the way you did when eren would fuck you.
“fuck, she really missed me didn’t she ma?”
the way he’s talking to your pussy has you rolling your eyes, but they then roll for a different reason as he adds one finger teasing his way inside of you alongside his hot tongue. “oh fuck, ‘ren don’t stop please” your hand reaches for his head gripping his hair causing it to fall loose as you pull his face further into your cunt.
both his tongue and fingers pistoling into you at a harsh pace so he not surprised when you end up cumming into his mouth as he starts to suck on your clit. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers inside you until you stop cumming and your moans die out, though your legs still tremble slightly due to the force of your orgasm.
“we aint done yet princess, you said you wanted to be fucked right and that’s what you’ll get. flip over”
you may be a bit drunk but that doesn’t stop you from turning over at the speed of light making you a bit lightheaded but you do regret it as you miss when eren pulls of his top and steps out his trousers and boxers, kneeling back behind you slapping his cock against your ass cheeks.
“you ready for me baby?”
he watches as you nod your head eagerly and lines his cock up with your pussy sliding in with predicted ease, filling out all the way to the hilt. both of you let out moans of pleasure “fuck- I missed you” you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy but you’re to full and stretched out to care. it would be an understatement to say that you also missed the fill of his cock. it was more like the longer you were apart the more you craved to feel him.
he was feeling sympathetic knowing that it had been a while since you had fuck him, or anyone for that matter, but when you start to rock back into him letting out small mewls of pleasure he decides not to hold back. “such a desperate whore, you cant wait to fuck yourself on my cock huh?” his words are accompanied by a hard slap to your ass causing your movements to stagger with a loud moan of “f-fuck, you’re taking too long”
he lets you move as you please for a few more moments before growing impatient and gripping your waist slamming his hips into yours. “d-daddy- fuckk!” you cant see it but you can hear the smirk as he says “you like it when daddy fucks you like this don’t you?” as he sends another harsh thrust you way, rocking the bed with the force of his thrust.
he continues with his timely thrust with the occasional slap to your ass, oscillating between that or squeezing it in both hands and playing with the fat. he can feel the way you clam down on him when he does that, knowing your body inside and out plays well in is favour, not so much in yours.
he spares no energy with is thrusts as he knows you like it when he's rough with you, fucking you into the soft sheets wit vigour, deep strokes hitting your cervix every time, the tip brushing against your sweet spot on every quick roll of his hips.
he's not surprised when he begins to hear your familiar slurred pleas of " daddy please. 's too much. slow down" to which he does the opposite and uses one and to steady your waist and the other one to hold your neck keeping your back arced "remember, you asked for this princess," your unable to move, sheets bunched up in your hands, hips held high by him, face pressed into the bed.
"made it loud and clear waat you wanted and now im giving it to you"
the slick sounds of sex circulate the room, your nonsensical moans bouncing off the walls in the room along with his skin slapping against yours as he hammers is cock into your dripping pussy. "since you asked for it m sure you can take it like a good girl cant you? noting you havent done before"
you can feel is cock start to pulse inside you and you know that he's close , and you're on the verge of release, with the way eren's pounding into you you doubt you'll be able to last much longer as well as the fact that its been ages since your last fuck, which was eren.
"next time you want something, just fucking ask"
the last three words of his sentence are each punctuated with a harsh trust, sending you over the edge as you begin to squirt all over is cock and onto the sheets below you. he can feel the way your pussy spasms around is cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down to ease you through it.
"that's it cum on daddy's cock, its all fucking yours baby, nobody can have me but you"
its only a couple more languid trusts until he's spilling is hot seed inside you with a groan of your name on his lips, hips stuttering as his grip tightens enough in a way you're sure will leave marks in the morning, body doubling over your trembling frame while he locks his hips with yours, emptying is tick load deep into your pussy.
only wen he's sure that there's no more does e finally pull out of your near limp body and gently rolls you over onto your back. peppering kisses down your torso till he settles between your legs were he begins to suck the cum out of you, causing your legs to clam around is head.
"nononono- fuck. i cant, s too much no more."
he's relentless not stopping even as your and tug at his air, pushing is tongue deep into your pussy and licking your mixed juices out of you. "just one more baby, i know you can give it to me" he's not wrong as only a second after he presses his thumb to your clit, you're cumming for the third time that evening shaking in is hold.
after tat e makes sure to clean you out as best as he can, dressing you into comfortable clothes. after cleaning himself he carries you to the guest bedroom and tucks you in deciding to leave until you reach out to him pulling him back.
he ends up wit is arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath is, drifting into a deep sleep. you're sure that in the morning the two of you will have a lot of things to talk about.
Tumblr media
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍
295 notes · View notes
thatwriterchick222 · 3 days
Text
snakebite (arthur morgan x f/reader) oneshot
summary: you get bitten by a snake and arthur has to suck the venom out... what could go wrong?
Tumblr media
----------------
“Shit…” You cursed under your breath, clutching at your thigh as you fought to push down the pain of the snake’s venom coursing through your veins. It was a deep bite, and you barely caught a glimpse of the thing before it slithered away. But the throbbing in your flesh was enough to know it was venomous.
Your horse had gotten spooked by the snake and bucked you off, fleeing for the treeline. The wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground and unfortunately landed right on top of the reptile. Deciding it had had enough, it lunged and bit your thigh, rightfully so. Its fangs shot through the material of your skirt and bloomers, down into your muscle. 
Thankfully, Arthur wasn’t too far behind.
“What the hell?” He asked as he pulled his horse to a stop, seemingly confused by your horse running off and finding you lying on your back in the grass.
You were lightheaded. Nauseous. “A damn snake bit me.” In an effort to sit up, you pressed down harder on your bite, hoping to at least slow the venom as it seeped further into you.
What an embarrassing way to go. Especially in front of Arthur, of all people. 
“Christ.” He said, quickly stepping down from his horse. He made his way over to you as you managed to sit up against a tree, breaking out into a sweat. 
“I don’t feel too good.”
Arthur knelt down to your level, his eyes scanning yours with a sudden urgency that made your throat close up. “Don’t look too good ‘neither.” 
“Thanks.” You chuckled.
He reached forward and felt your forehead with the back of his hand, and your heart fluttered in your chest.
Even on your deathbed, you could not suppress your lasting crush on Arthur Morgan. Pathetic.
“Where’d it getcha?” He asked, looking down to where your hand clutched your leg. 
You lifted your hand, “My thigh.”
“Okay…” He thought for a quick moment, scooting closer to you. “Lift your skirt up.”
You froze, swallowing thickly with your dry mouth. “I- Alright.”
Trying to ignore his wording and the pit in your stomach, you did as he said, pulling your linen skirt up to expose the small patch of blood on your white bloomers. 
Without a word, Arthur grabbed the fabric, pulling at the holes where the small fangs had broken through, and ripped them wide, exposing the wound. 
“What are you doing?”
“Gettin’ the venom out.”
You blinked, feeling the warm pads of his fingers brush your skin. “How?”
His hand reached under your knee, pulling your leg up, and you nearly flinched. Not because you were scared, but because you didn’t want him to know how much you liked it. 
His eyes darted up to yours. “I gotta suck it out.”
You took a sharp breath in, adjusting your body awkwardly. “Oh.”
Then, as quickly as he had ripped your bloomers apart, he bent down, gripping your thigh tightly as he brought his mouth to your bite. 
And it stung like all hell. He created a suction and you felt as if you were being bitten all over again, a searing pain overcoming the area as you gasped. 
But there was still something very erotic about all of this. And you scolded yourself for thinking it. If someone were to pass by, they would see a cowboy with his head buried in your lap, and that brought a blush to your cheeks as he pulled away, turning to the side and spitting the venom out into the grass.
When he went back in, it hurt even worse, the numbness from your adrenaline wearing off. He sucked especially hard, and you grit your teeth, instinctively reaching forward and grabbing his arm. “Arthur–”
He pulled away again, spitting into the grass. When he turned back, he looked at you, his eyes strangely dark and his brow furrowed in concentration. Why was his face so close to yours? Maybe it was the venom. It had gotten to your head. Your skin was heating up, and your heart pounded hard in your ribcage. His hands were on your thigh, your fingers digging into the arm of his shirt, and you only stared back at him.
He broke the eye contact and went back down, this time only sucking lightly. You assumed he had gotten what he could out of your body. But your belly was warm and you felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to him, your body pulsing with pain and… arousal.
You pressed your lips together in pain, and when he sucked one last time, a whimper fell from your lips. But he didn’t suck anything out of you like he did before. His lips were on your skin and then they weren’t, and then they were back, landing higher up your thigh. Your hand loosened on his bicep and you didn’t know why, but you started rubbing him with your thumb. 
You couldn’t see his face under the brim of his hat, but you felt him move his mouth higher, his teeth grazing you and his beard scratching against your skin. It tickled. His fingers dug into your thigh, and you drew in a breath, a suspenseful silence overtaking you.
A sudden bravery took over your body. You scooted closer to him, and he moved even further up, his lips pressing lightly against your skin. Was he… kissing you?
You swallowed when his nose brushed your inner thigh. And then you spread your knees further apart.
Any pain you had was replaced with the burning ache for him to touch you. 
“Arthur.” You finally got the willpower to croak out his name, but you didn’t know what else to say. You said his name like a question, but also like a request. A demand. Like you wanted him to stop, but you also never wanted him to stop.
He halted anyway, lifting his lips from your skin, the coolness of the breeze on it telling you that you were wet with his saliva. He didn’t look up. He kept his face hidden by the brim of his hat. 
You could slice the tension in the air with your knife. But why would you want to? You had been waiting for a moment like this for the entire time you had known him.
He was always shy, and barely ever spoke about how he felt. You figured you would have to make some move or give him some hint… but now, at such an inopportune time… he seemed to want something from you too.
Were you drunk on adrenaline and snake venom? Probably. Was he taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state? Maybe. 
You lifted your leg, shuffling even closer. You couldn’t speak. And neither could he. But somehow there was this silent agreement that you both wanted something. You lifted your skirt higher, and he finally looked up at you.
He almost looked like a different man. His jaw was clenched, his pupils large and his eyes burning into yours like a wolf hunting its prey. There was a smudge of your blood on his bottom lip.
You nodded. Please don’t stop.
With just as much urgency as he had when trying to potentially save your life, he quickly reached for the waist of your bloomers and pulled them down. If it had been any other man in any other scenario, you would have hidden yourself in embarrassment and covered your eyes so you didn’t have to see him see you.
But it was Arthur. And he was quickly lifting your legs, pulling your hips up and closer to him, and burying his face in between them. He didn’t have time to take it slow, and you didn’t care, your insides pulsing and your face going hot. Your bloomers were still around your ankles, and his hat was still hiding his face as his breath was on your cunt. 
You lay back against the tree and he dove into you, his tongue exploring you aggressively, drinking you in with such passion you thought you might pass out. It suddenly occurred to you as you cried out that you were only meters away from the dirt road, barely hidden by the grass. Now, if someone passed by, it would look like you had a cowboy’s face in your lap because… you did.
Your hand flew to your mouth when he began to suck on you, those same lips that had just been sucking snake venom out of your leg moments prior. Your thighs clenched around his head, threatening to knock his hat off, but you kind of liked it on. He couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. There was some level of anonymity to this act, like maybe for just a moment you could be different people and not have to deal with the aftermath of your actions.
But fuck, he was good. It made you question if he had been practicing on someone. Who had he been practicing on? He could practice on you for the rest of your life if he wanted.
You bucked your hips into his mouth when he groaned into you, already finding yourself nearing your breaking point. His tongue was rough but rhythmic, and it was so quiet outside you could hear the squelching of your wetness against his mouth. 
The feeling was building up inside you. You were floating, you were grinding yourself on his nose. Your eyes darted to your snake bite, red and swollen, and to your torn bloomers around your ankles, and to Arthur’s arms holding your legs as he bent over, doing something fucking incredible with his tongue.
You cried out as you came in his mouth, your hand finding his forearm, digging your nails into it. Your back arched and your hips bucked, shuddering with the feeling of it. He groaned into your core, seemingly just as pleased to feel you come as you were to come, and he slowly let you ride it out.
Catching your breath, you looked around, slowly coming back into yourself and realizing where you were. What you both had done.
Arthur’s grip on your legs slowly loosened, and when he pulled away from you, his eyes avoided yours. He lifted your leg and untangled himself from you and your bloomers. You wanted to rip his hat off and look at him. You wanted to kiss him. To taste yourself on his lips.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”
You sat up, your bare ass scraping against the dirt. And you couldn’t help but laugh. 
Sorry? He was apologizing? Like he didn’t know what came over him. Like he couldn’t help but make me come on his tongue. A simple mistake. Oops. You laughed harder, pulling your bloomers up. The pain of your bite suddenly came back to you, and you winced as the fabric rubbed against it. 
He finally looked up at you from under the brim of his hat as you managed to get your bloomers back up. Then he let out a chuckle.
You wanted to return the favour. You sat up and were about to reach for him, grab him and touch him and maybe provide him with an ounce of the pleasure he just gave you, but suddenly a voice came from the road.
“What the–”
You and Arthur both quickly looked up, seeing a man on his horse staring at the two of you with confusion. 
You were still flushed, and coated in a sheen of sweat, and your skirt was pulled up as Arthur knelt beside you. Oddly enough, it actually was exactly what it looked like.
“Snakebite.” You fought your smile, looking down at your leg as you spoke to the man.
Arthur nodded, “Had to… suck the venom out–” He stood up, and you noticed the bulge in his pants. Thankfully, he turned away from the man before he noticed. 
“We should get you to a doctor,” Arthur said, reaching his hand out to you as if nothing had happened. You were still burning from your orgasm, but you pushed your skirt down and grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up.
“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Good luck, then.”
###
You both rode back to camp in silence. 
You wanted to pretend nothing happened, but you couldn’t help but watch Arthur keep adjusting himself in the saddle, clearly uncomfortable with how hard he was. To be honest, you had never experienced a man do something like that and not expect you to return the favour. But, you liked the idea of it, the taste of you in his mouth making him harder than ever. It clearly wasn’t going away, either, because he probably couldn’t stop thinking about it.
You smiled, kicking your horse to ride up next to him. “Need a little help there?” Your eyes flicked down his body, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. His cheeks were adorably red, and he looked away again. 
“Let’s just get back to camp, first.” He reached down and moved his belt slightly, trying to ease the pressure. “Make sure you ain’t dyin’ on us.”
You smirked. “And what if I am?”
“Then we’ll need to work fast.” He shot you a look.
You felt your cheeks go just as red as his. “I can do fast.”
264 notes · View notes
gucciwins · 1 day
Text
harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned
word count: 5896
a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜
+
Y/N was nervous. 
She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 
Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 
As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 
“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 
It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 
“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 
“I said it’s okay.” 
Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 
It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 
Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.
“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”
“Course. Guard it with my life.” 
Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 
“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 
The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 
Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 
“Excuse me, sir?”
He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 
“How do I know you?” 
The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 
“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”
Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”
The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 
That’s odd, Y/N thought. 
“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 
“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 
Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 
Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 
“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 
She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 
“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 
“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 
Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 
Harry S. 
It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 
Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 
Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 
“Oh.” 
Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 
“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.
“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 
“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 
“I’d like to see where it could go.” 
“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”
Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 
“Good. Thursday it is.”
Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 
Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.
Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 
“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.
Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 
Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 
Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 
“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 
In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 
Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 
“Anne,” Y/N repeated.
“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 
Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 
Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.
+
Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  
“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 
Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 
“Your face didn’t change.”
Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 
Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 
Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”
“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.
Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 
“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 
Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 
“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.
Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 
Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 
“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.
Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 
Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 
Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 
She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”
Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”
“It’s clear she’s after something.” 
He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”
“Your money.” 
“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 
“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 
“How would you know?”
“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 
“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”
“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”
Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 
“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.
“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 
He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 
Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 
“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 
Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”
Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.
She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 
Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 
Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”
Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 
“It’s only my sister,” he defends.
“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 
Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”
“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 
“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 
“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”
Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”
Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 
Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.
“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 
He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 
Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 
“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“But Gemma–”
He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”
Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 
“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”
Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.
“I love you, Harry.” 
He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 
Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.
+
The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 
There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 
“My daughter owes you an apology.” 
“Anne–” 
She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 
Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 
Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 
Harry greeted her with a kiss.
Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 
Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 
Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 
“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 
“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 
Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 
“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.
“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 
Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 
“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 
“And did it?” 
“Mmm…like magic.” 
“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 
“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 
Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 
“But she’s your–”
“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”
Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”
“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 
Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.
+
thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts
289 notes · View notes
Text
Face Sitting (Chris)
Request: reader rides chris’ face for the first time and he ends up shooting his load all over himself because it was so hot to him and her dirty talking was getting to him and everything was just so hot then the reader grinds against his stomach/chest using his cum to slide back and forth and end up cumming on him again while he jerks off because it’s hot to him
Warnings: short, plus sized reader, oral (m/f receiving), stomach riding, jerking off, slight degradation if you squint, cumming untouched, dom!chris
Y/n’s Pov
It had been a long and stressful day for both me and Chris for separate reasons. We were both extremely relieved to finally be able to just chill at my apartment for the rest of the evening without any more stress. Currently, we were lying in bed, Chris had his head on my stomach as I played with his hair. “Hey babe?” Chris asked, “Yes?” “Can we try something new? I’m hornyyyyy!” he whined. He rolled his head to look up at me with a pouty face, “What do you wanna try?” I asked intrigued, “I want you to sit on my goddamn face.” he groaned out.
I was pretty surprised he said that considering I’m not exactly some skinny bitch, but I was also skeptical because of that. “I don’t know, I don’t want to like crush you.” I told him, Chris laughed before saying “You’re not gonna crush me ya goof!” I gave him an unamused look, causing him to stop laughing.
“I’m serious, I really want you to sit on my face. Please, it sounds so hot!” he begged again, “Okay, I guess we can try it.” I told him. Within seconds, Chris was on top of me, harshly pressing his lips against mine, causing me to let out a surprised moan. He pulled away to slide off my shirt, now leaving me in only my panties as I wasn’t wearing any pants.
Almost instantaneously, Chris pulled off his sweatpants and boxers in one go before taking off my panties as well. He flipped us over so I was now on top, helping me rock my hips against his for a minute, spreading my wetness across his already hard cock. Chris laid back before sliding me up to his stomach “Ride my fucking face like a slut!” he growled, moving us both so I was now hovering over his face.
Chris pulled me down onto his face, groaning at the taste as he ran his tongue through my folds. I was trying my best not to put my full weight on him as he started harshly suck on my clit, but Chris didn’t like that. He immediately pulled me all the way down on his face before harshly grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him.
After sending me a wink, he went back to sucking on my clit but quickly switched to giving it little licks before flicking it with his tongue. I had one hand on the headboard while the other slipped down to grab his hand, “Oh fuck, Chris- mhmm! F-Feels so good!” I whined out.
Chris let out another groan against me when he stuck his tongue into my hole and swirling it around. This made me buck my hips forward slightly causing him to let out an extremely whiny, needy moan. “S-So good! Such a good boy for me!” I moaned, causing Chris to start fucking into me with his tongue.
He brought his hands up towards my waist to make me grind against his face before bringing one hand up to choke me. I let out an extremely loud moan when he squeezed my throat harder and started sucking at my entrance, “Fuck! So c-close, gonna cum all over your pretty face!” I cried out.
Chris slapped my ass, making me realize I was now grinding on his face without his help anymore. He let out deep growl as I started to move my hips a bit faster, moaning loudly when I felt myself cum. “Oh shit- yeah, right there! Fuck, Chris- you’re s-so good!” I whined out, after I came down from my high Chris helped me moved down towards his stomach.
I didn’t really register the fact that his stomach was wet since I was still a bit dazed from my high. I looked down at him to see him breathing heavily and smiling with a fucked out expression, “Holy fuck, that was so hot! You literally just made me cum all over myself without even touching me!” he panted out.
His face was still wet with my cum but his expression was something else, he looked so hot right now. I let out another whine when his hands on my hips made me slide down his stomach a bit more as it stimulated my sensitive clit a little. Chris experimentally rocked me back and forth on his stomach a bit, groaning at the why I could easily move thanks to his cum.
“Ride my stomach, c’mon make yourself cum again like a slut.” he demanded, making me grind onto him hard. I’ll admit this was a new feeling but it felt amazing, “Spit in my hand for me babe.” Chris told me, making me a bit confused but nonetheless I complied. My confusion was quickly replaced with shock when I hear the sound of his slick hand rubbing his cock. “Are you really jerking off right now?” I question with a giggle.
Chris’ hand came up to grip my throat again, “Shut the fuck up and grind your needy little pussy against me!” he growled as we both sped up our movements. I quickly felt my high approach and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his stomach. I immediately got off of him and went down to suck his cock, harshly sucking on the head while massaging his balls.
His hands came to push my head all the way down on his cock before letting out a deep groan and cumming down my throat. I pulled off with a pop before looking up at him and licking the mixture of our cum off of his stomach. I licked all the way up to his mouth before making out with him. Chris groaned as he tasted the cum on my tongue before he flipped up over.
We lazily and sloppily made out until he pulled away “Open.” he demanded while grabbing onto my chin. I complied and immediately let out a whine when he spit into my mouth, “Swallow slut.” he growled, I did as he said and stuck my tongue out to show him I listened. “Good girl, always listen to me so well. Now let’s go get cleaned up my love.” he said helping me up, we took a quick shower and changed into new pajamas.
Once we were done, we went back to the bedroom, Chris changed the sheets before we laid down. I cuddled into his side, “The was definitely something fun, I love you handsome.” I told Chris while stroking his hair. “Oh yeah, we’re totally fucking doing that again. That was an amazing experience, thank you for trying it out with me. I love you more angel.” he replied back, placing a kiss on my neck before we slowly drifted off to sleep. We were now both content with the outcome of or say since it felt like the stress had basically felted away.
All work is subject to copyright
©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024
Do not steal, use, or reupload my work
Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @blahbel668 @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @creamoncreamoncream2 @delimeats-000 @ermdontmindthisaccount @fionaheartswomen @gilbertscurls @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lovingmattysposts @lovingmattysposts @lustfulslxt @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @mattsbabytomato @mattsnutsack @meerkatzthings @patscorner @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @slut4mattsturn @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @sturnsdoll @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolocoded @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo-rat @sturniolo0ntop @sturnsdoll @tillies33ssss @thecynthh @worldlxvlys
239 notes · View notes
awfcspencer · 1 day
Text
Story Of Us || leah williamson x reader
Tumblr media
prompt: A peek into one of Stella’s sleepless nights.
warnings: none!
In this universe.
“Welcome home, Stella.” Leah cooed to the newborn soothingly rocking in her arms as she walked through the front door. Stella was dressed in a onesie that had pink flamingos sprayed across the fabric, paired with a tiny matching pink cap that covered her small traces of blonde hair that you assumed would grow in to match Leah’s, her sleeping form content in the comforting arms of her mother. 
After nearly two days in the hospital once Stella made her long-awaited entrance into the world, she was finally home. There was a brief scare concerning her lungs, but luckily Stella was already forming into a little warrior as the two of you were cleared to leave the next day, Stella passing her newborn tests with flying colors.
 Since then, Stella had been practically glued to defender’s arms or her chest, the blonde feeling at peace when she could feel Stella’s tiny rhythmic breathing and heartbeat flush against her own body. 
“Welcome home, baby girl.” You softly whispered to the chubby little baby, using the backside of your pointer finger to brush her puffy cheeks gently as her tired eyes fluttered open. Your daughter was a clear copy image of Leah, her bright blue eyes and small button nose resembled the defender perfectly.
It was such an odd feeling returning home, you left with a baby in your stomach and you returned with a human, a real-life, breathing human, it was all a bit surreal.  
“Are you okay love?” She asked in a soothing, low tone, voice soft with affection peering towards you.
“Mmm, just a little sore.” You explained to her, wincing slightly at the pain that still lingered from birth a few short days ago. Luckily, you had your amazing wife by your side who catered to your and Stella’s needs attentively. Having a baby was stressful, overwhelming, and tiring daily, but Leah made the transition much easier with her supportive efforts. 
“Are you okay to show her the nursery or should we wait?” She questioned with a clear concern about your well-being first. “I just want to show her together.” She expressed shyly. 
Leah had become obsessed with nearly doing everything for Stella together, wanting both of you to experience every accolade of ‘Stella’s firsts’ as a pair, not wanting either to miss out on a single moment. First bottle, first bath, first everything was done together, it was adorable you couldn’t deny.
Leah was convinced Stella was already growing up too soon, whole-heartedly believing that Stella was nearly a day away from walking out the door at the ripe age of eighteen and never looking back. You’d had to take deep breathes with the blonde to calm her down after the single thought sent her into a frenzy just a few short hours after Stella was born. 
“I am okay, let’s show her.” You confidently admitted, placing a tender kiss to the defenders lips before making your way towards Stella’s room.
Deciding on the theme of the nursey had been easy, a minimalistic theme with neutral colors that accented the wooden furniture that two of you picked out. The room also decked out with several stars and constellation images that reminded you about the origins of Stella’s name all those months that felt like forever ago. 
What wasn’t easy was the countless hours the two of you spent trying to assemble said furniture and Leah’s persistence that a small plush gunnersaurus had to stay in the room, even though you pleaded with her that it did not match the aesthetic at all. You’d obviously given up the argument because there was simply no arguing with the true homegrown gunner and her initiative to raise a baby girl who also bled Arsenal. 
You watched as Leah give Stella a tour of the nursery room while you sat in the rocking chair near the crib, the blonde showing Stella all the tiny outfits in her closet that she’d bought for her and pointing out the small Williamson kit that she made sure Stella knew she would be wearing one day.
There was something especially heartwarming watching your wife hold and interact with your daughter, Leah looking at Stella’s small form as if she hung the stars in the sky herself, the same loving look she sent you. It was all a serene moment and with the hormones still wracked all throughout your body, you felt yourself getting emotional at the sight, and in that moment, you just knew deep down that Leah was made to be a mommy, and she was going to do such a good job with Stella. 
“Hey hey, what’s wrong?” Leah looked at you with worry in her eyes when she noticed the tears trickling from your eyelashes, making one long stride to meet you at the rocking chair. 
“Happy tears.” You explained to her with a fond look, “She’s just perfect and so are you. If there was ever anybody meant for me and Stella, it’s you.” 
Leah transferred Stella into the nook of your left arm and shuffled behind the rocking chair, placing her head in the crook of your neck so she could look down at Stella, “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else in the world.” Your wife beamed, “Can you believe we created her? She is the second closest thing to love at first sight that I’ve ever experienced.” 
“Such the charmer you are Williamson.” You laughed at Leah’s cheesiness and wiped the few tears that had cascaded down your cheek with your free hand. Stella’s open palm searching for a finger that Leah happily slotted her pointer finger into, a common relax for babies that Leah’s heart swooned at every chance she got, loving the feeling of Stella’s petite hand wrapping around her.  
“I am serious, she’s so beautiful and perfect, just like you. I love her, and I love you.” The new angle of Leah’s body allowed her give small pecks to your neck. 
You looked down at Stella’s blue eyes staring at you and then behind you to meet the other blue eyes that had captured your heart, your mouth turning up into a soft smile and lips meeting Leah’s. 
The soft whimpers of the infant made you and Leah quickly pull apart.
 “Someone must be hungry.” You giggled, smiling down at the baby who began puckering her small rosy lips.
-----------
“Right on time, I’m coming sweetie.” You whispered to yourself as you rubbed your tired eyes and looked at the alarm clock that displayed just a few minutes after 3 A.M. The sound of Stella’s cries rang through the baby monitor that sat on your bedside table, piercing your ears. 
You’d become a light sleeper ever since Stella came home, waking up nearly every time you heard a small grunt or even a whine through the white monitor, ready to quickly make a move towards the nursey if Stella needed anything at all. 
As you stretched out your limbs, you peeked over to Leah who began to stir awake.
 “I’ll get her, you go back to sleep.” She murmured to you, giving you a soft kiss to your temple before getting herself slowly out of bed. You sent her a sleepy smile and rolled back over into your pillow, plucking the baby monitor off the table and placing it near your head to watch and listen, smiling when you hear her angelic voice on the other end of the monitor.
“What’s wrong my little baby girl?” Leah cooed to the swaddled newborn when she enters the nursey room. She carefully picks Stella up and holds her in her arms close to her chest, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head as she rocks your daughter. 
“Oh Stella darling, I know you are tired. Shhh, your fine baby, I am right here.” 
Leah moves her to the changing pad, undoing her pink swaddle that had little farm animals sprayed across the fabric. With escaped arms, her tiny limbs stretch wide as she wiggles around relentlessly with flailing legs.
“Come on baby, let me change you and then we can both get some sleep.” She whispers to the now seemingly wide-awake baby, using her thumb to wipe the big tears that cascaded down her red, puffy cheeks, trying to calm the infant down.
Stella’s high-pitched cries were persistent, unquestionably proving her small lungs were working and well.
“Are you hungry little one? Is that what is it? Well why didn’t you just say that?” Leah told the infant, chuckling to herself slightly and tickling her tiny belly, trying to keep her energy lighthearted as usually the hardest times of having a baby was the limited sleep and exhaustion that wracked most parents and she wanted to avoid ever making Stella feel like she was a chore, even if she was just a few days old.
Leah sat on the rocking chair, letting Stella drink from a bottle of previously pumped milk that morning, humming a lullaby that she’d sing to your belly when Stella was still growing. With Stella’s weeps dwindling into small whimpers, she decided these were some of her favorite moments of being a mother so far, her ability to soothe Stella and calm her own daughter down made her feel like a true mother, like her mother instincts had come although she hadn’t carried Stella herself. 
“There you go my little angel.” She sighed in relief as Stella finished off her bottle. Leah moved to gently burp the bundle of limbs on her chest. It was an adjustment to get used to her own sleep getting interrupted nearly every hour to tend to a baby, but as she looked at her daughter, she knew she wouldn’t change it for the world. 
Unfortunately, when Leah moved Stella back into her crib, her tiny face scrunched up unhappily and the wails began again, forcing Leah to pluck the newborn back up and find her spot back on the rocking chair, Stella’s eyes now wide and awake. 
“Looks like neither of us are getting sleep.” She muttered in a tired voice but with a gentle smile, placing Stella’s back on her knees as she bounced them softly, occasionally blowing rasperries on the infant’s cheeks.
“Let me tell you a story Stella, the story of how I met your mommy.” She began, smiling so hard down at her daughter she thought her cheeks would be sore tomorrow. 
Back in your shared bedroom, you were in and out of sleep, waking up every so often and checking in to see Leah and Stella in the nursery, but once you’d heard Stella’s cries die down, you’d fallen back asleep. 
You wake up when you rolled over to cuddle further into Leah’s warm body but was instead met with her side cold and empty. You peeked down to the baby monitor and found her, listening in to what Leah was telling your daughter. 
“And then your mommy fell head over heels for your mama, both physically and emotionally. She fell straight into me at the post celebration party after we won the Euros and she couldn’t leave me alone the whole night.” You heard her explain to the newborn, chuckling to yourself because that story couldn’t be farther from the truth. 
You exit the warmth of your bed, grabbing the small monitor and shuffle down the hall towards where you wife and daughter were. 
“Are you telling lies to our newly born daughter already Leah Williamson?” You joked quietly asked as you step into the nursery room doorway, presenting Leah the monitor in your hand that showed that you had heard everything she had said. 
Leah eyes widened when she noticed your arrival, you could tell the color of her face draining out slightly even in the dimly lit nursery room. She immediately began scrambling on her words, trying to pretend she wasn’t just completely fibbing to the infant.
“Me lie? No Stella I would never do that!” She joked with sarcastic dramaticness before softly whispering close to the newborn, “Whatever your mommy says don’t believe her! We are now in this together Stella, hold a strong front.” She giggled to Stella, rubbing circles on her tiny belly.
You met her at the rocking chair, crouching down to meet Stella’s head directly, “What I think your mama meant to say was how she couldn’t leave me alone Stella.” You teased with a wink to your wife, electing to sit crisscrossed on the floor near the two people in the world who meant the absolute most to you. 
“I don’t remember the story going that way.” She teased back, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile because she does know the story went that way, but she surely wasn’t ready to admit how she had acted like a lovesick puppy when she met you to her daughter, not yet at least.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of Lee, one day Stella will know.” You smirked, taking a subtle jab at your wife. The Euros celebration had been where you’d met the captain, you had accidentally ran straight into her looking for a friend that was quickly forgotten about after you locked eyes with the blonde, but you played it super cool, trying to conceal your excitement of the Leah Williamson in your presence by electing to play a game of cat and mouse.
A game Leah happily played alongside you, whisking you away to the dance floor nearly all night long and into the early hours of the morning. Leah tried nearly every attempt she could think of to sweep you off your feet, but still you remained headstrong, wanting the defender to truly work for it, and she did. A confession at the end of hours of dancing and an exchangement of numbers and the rest was really history, and now the two of you were married and had a daughter.
During the whisper back and forth with the blonde, Stella’s lashes fluttered slowly, her tiny fists rubbing her tired eyes and a small yawn escaping the lips of the newborn. The two of your voices lulling the infant to sleep as she still laid on Leah’s knees, you assumed she wanted to hear both of her parent’s voices before she fell back asleep.
Leah cautiously whisked Stella back into her crib, “Goodnight angel, sweet dreams.” She cooed, placing a kiss on her forehead as you did the same right after her. The blonde grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against her body as the two of you watched the infant’s chest rise and fall slowly, soft puffs of air leaving her tiny lips.
“I love you.” Your wife murmured.
“I love you too Lee, but if I don’t get some decent shuteye soon, I might lose it.” 
“Alright mama bear, back to bed we go.” She laughed, closing the nursery door quietly and leading you back to your bedroom, ushering you into the warmness and comfort of your comforter and pillows. You placed the baby monitor back onto the bedside table and seeped into the softness of the mattress.
“Goodnight baby.” She whispered into your ear, sealing it with a similar kiss to your temple that she gave to Stella, pulling you impossibly closer to her body and tangling her legs into yours.
373 notes · View notes
littlemelaninfics · 2 days
Text
Surprise, Surprise
a/n: I had this mostly written in my drafts before Bi!Buck actually became canon and wanted to finish it, so enjoy <3 (18+ ONLY)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff (whoa! Cali writes fluff? Don’t get used to it 😉)
Tumblr media
“Is y/n feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“Because she looks - Well she looks a little-“
“Hot.” Maddie said.
“Yeah that,” Chim agreed while pointing to Maddie.
“Hot?” Buck asked furrowing his brow.
“As in sexy. Foxy. Hot!” Maddie said very bluntly that even had her husband looking at her. Athena and Hen scurried to the three at the kitchen island to join in,
“You guys talking about Y/n?” Hen asked.
“I don’t mean to be suggestive as I am a woman of class, but whatever you’re doing Buck, keep doing it,” Athena nodded as she raised her glass to the gals.
“It’s not that she wasn’t THAT before now, but we haven’t seen her in a while and she looks and even feels different. I can feel her vibe from here,” Hen said as she playfully grasped at the air in your direction.
“Uh, heh, yeah. I guess things are a little different,” Buck said while looking back at you sweetly,
“Uh, I mean, things are good! Great even! That’s why you guys are here. We wanted to see everyone in one room for once,” Buck smiled, “so glad you’re all here.” Buck sipped on his beer before his foot got stuck any further down his throat.
The get together was in full swing when you went and grabbed the extra bag of ice from the freezer. Buck saw you out of the corner of his eye and practically flew out of his pants rushing over to you. Eddie saw the interaction from across the room and squinted his eyebrows in his chismoso ways. He migrated to the group by the counter with a full on detective look on his face,
“Y’all saw that, right?”
“You mean the way Buck Scooby-Doo’ed his way out of his seat to help a grown woman carry 10 pounds of ice? Yeah.” Hen confirmed. All heads turned to Eddie waiting for an explanation.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“You’re his best friend,” Maddie said matter of factly.
“You’re his sister,” Eddie mocked back.
“I mean it would explain the changes we all see,” Hen shrugged her shoulders.
“The glowing skin, thicker hair, filled out in the appropriate places…” Athena drifted off.
“The cravings, the mood swings, the crying…” Chimney chimed in. Now all heads swifted his way,
“I saw her last Thursday-
“Chimney!”
“Dude!”
“What!? I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the safety and well being of my Jiyung. But it does make a little more sense now…”
They stared on as Buck kissed you on your forehead and took the ice to the cooler. Bobby rounded the corner in the backyard and made his way over to you, giving you the biggest hug. The group realizes he’s pointing to Buck a lot and using grand gestures,
“Think he knows something?” Hen asked Athena who just looked on. Bobby went to head inside when he spotted the gathering at the counter and immediately stopped in his tracks to turn the other way.
“He knows!” Eddie said has he raced around the counter, beating Bobby to bathroom,
“Hey Cap! What’s up?”
“What’s up, Eddie?”
“Nothin. Just hangin out, you know,” he said with a big smile and deep eye contact trying to read his Captain.
Feeling awkward,
“Alright well, I’m gonna..” Bobby said as he motioned to the bathroom.
“Yeah, man! For sure! We’ll be right out here!” Eddie walked back to the island.
“He’s not coming out,” Chimney said, “Do you think that’s why everyone’s here? So they can tell us all?”
“I guess we’ll find out, but we can’t in good conscience harass Bobby into telling us,” Athena said as she was the first to walk off.
The party went on for another hour or so when Buck called the attention of everyone,
“Y/N and I would first like to start off by thanking you all for being here. It means a lot to us that we can see the people we love and care about all together and creating memories. That’s why today is so special. Uh, it has come to my attention that some of you may be guessing…” he said as he turned his attention to his family and they turned to Bobby who kept his eyes wide and trained forward,
“My wife and I have created our true dream life and forever team. We’ve been through so much together and have been privileged to have had all of you by our side along the way. Which is why we are-words can’t even describe this feeling, but we are beyond blessed to announce that we are expecting our first child-”
The party erupted in cheer and Bobby let out a sigh of relief before joining in on the applause. Buck never got to finish his speech before parents were coming up to you both and giving hugs.
“You knew?” Athena asked Bobby.
“For 3 weeks now. He said he needed to tell someone but knew it was too early to tell everyone.”
“Ohh, so in the end you just respecting Buck’s wishes?” She delivered with a playful side eye.
“Exactly,” he said leaning down to kiss her forehead and pull her in.
108 notes · View notes
livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
Note
do you write for nanami? if you do, i have a req :3
au where hes still with us (sniffles) and being a sorcerer is more of an on-the-side thing, and he's like an overworked office middle class guy whos also a wizard on the lowkey. sometimes he works so much he even forgets his birthday. but you didn't. ohhh no you did not. you're at home patiently waiting for him, and all you want is to spoil him for the night because he deserves it!! he deserves to just be taken care of, given the care he needs, maybe a little overstim in the process, but it's all with good intentions... (right?)
SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG 😭😭
anyway...... requesting a sub!nanami x softdom!female!reader with a little overstim <3 (out here exposing my service dom fantasies)
idk if you do emoji anons, but if you do can i be 🎱 anon? tysm!! i love your works and i hope your have a lovely day/night :) <333
So taking care of nanami on his birthday? Consider it done. Also welcome 🎱 anon, I’m happy about all my new anons ^^
Dom!reader x sub!nanami
Warning: blow job (reader giving), teasing, marking - hickeys, fluff, use of pet names
Tumblr media
Hands moving across the table, reaching for the dirty porcelain. The sound of plates being stacked could be heard, and you swiftly placed the dishes on the counter. Nanami tried to help, carrying the cake over to the refrigerator, though you stopped him. “Let me do it, it’s your birthday today! You are forbidden from working.” You declared, snatching whatever he was holding away and putting it in its rightful place yourself. “My birthday isn’t that important, just let me help.” He was such a gentleman, but you still stayed stubborn. Today was his birthday, yet he still went to work, he even did overtime. That’s not acceptable, at least now you should lift some burden off his shoulder.
Right, that was your plan. To take care of him, make him feel loved and happy. Also most importantly, not let him do any chores. Even if it doesn’t look like that, he also has to rest. You really adored him which is why you wished he’d take care of himself some more, and have a mesmerising birthday of course. So why did he look so troubled? You told him not to help. Instead of relaxing he looks uncomfortable or awkward. Just sitting there, watching you do it all. Seems like this part failed a little.. then it’s time to move onto the next one.
Still determined to make him enjoy himself, you brought him to your shared bedroom after watching a movie. “Could you please sit down, my dear?” You asked him, while slowly stripping your clothes. Until you were only in your undergarments. In the meantime the Blondie sat down, a slightly hesitant look on his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, since you’ve been taking everything upon yourself the entire time. His hands wandered to his belt, gaze never leaving your body. Before he could get rid of his belt, he felt your hands on top of his, stopping him gently. “Leave it all to me, alright?”
Nanami felt really embarrassed now. What was he, a kid? Why would he need help undressing himself? Despite his inner turmoil, he still let you do whatever you wanted. It looked like you planned all of this just for him, thus he’ll try to play along. The last thing he’d want is to inconvenient you. Slowly you pulled his belt out, then your fingers wandered up to his collar. He felt a slight tug as you pulled on his tie, untying the knot. Then you gently, and carefully unbuttoned his deep blue shirt. You were only focused on him, and nothing else, pupils glancing at his face every now and then. A smile spread across your features when you saw him furrowing his brows. “You can take off those glasses now.” You whispered, one hand reaching for his cheeks, caressing him while the other still held his dress shirt. His own hand moved upwards and took them off, placing them on the nightstand.
“Such beautiful eyes, don’t hide them from me all the time, hehe.” “I’m not hiding anything from you.” You sure hoped that was the case, considering how he thinks most of the stuff happening at work isn’t worth mentioning. Now that that was out of the picture, you resumed your previous antics, opening one button after another. Soon it revealed his muscular body, and you couldn’t help but stare. You have always loved everything about him, from the head to toes. Yet right now you were sure his torso was your favourite. How beautiful his skin was, as well as the little, barely visible scars from battles; or his firm chest with those cute nipples.
You moved your face closer to his, hands on his pecs now as you kissed him, locking your lips with his. His lips were soft and you were like in a trance when you kissed him. Before he got to enjoy it you pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. It was way too short for him, but he didn’t complain, he could never get mad at you. Afterwards you started kissing his neck. So carefully and tender, that it felt like a feather brushing over his skin, it was almost ticklish. His breath sharpened by a notch when you started groping his chest, squeezing that place with your fingers. In between kisses and smooches, you made sure to whisper into his ear, showering him with compliments. “I’m so glad to have you, my handsome and beautiful boy.” This continued for a bit, and soon his entire collarbone area was covered by red spots. Some hickeys were on his torso too. “You look gorgeous right now.” you commented on those trails of marks you left behind, before fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
You didn’t strip him entirely naked, only enough that you get to touch him wherever. Pulling his pants and underwear down a little to free his cock. He groaned a little when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, rubbing the part that is connected to his pelvis. “Y/n, darling.. don’t tease today.” Immediately your attention wandered to him again, shushing him with your finger as you said, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, I’ll make you feel good today.” A light chuckle, then you played with his tip. The adoration you had for him was genuine, and visible in your eyes.
The way you looked so confident and eager to make him feel good was so adorable in his eyes, and he just can’t help himself but fall even more. Sighting a little before it turned into a breathy moan, “uhh,..huh.” Your delicate fingers were touching all the right places, and soon he was fully erect. One of his hands was clutching the sheets, while the other reached out to your hair, stroking it gently. This surprised you a little, but it wasn’t too bad so you let him be. Then you moved lower, until your lips were inches away from his dick. You let your saliva drool down, afterwards you licked his tip as a tease. “Hmm- i told you not to tease.” “Oh? Guess i forgot that then~” an adorable giggle followed, coming from you. He was truly lucky to have you here with him.
While he was still admiring the relationship you two have build, you took him into your mouth and sucked. Trying your best to avoid any teeth and using your tongue to roll it over his tip. “Ughh- haa..” his grip on your hair tightened. Normally you’d push his hand away, though today was a special occasion. Sweet moans and the occasional gasp spilled from his lips, eyes now clenched shut. Sometimes he’d bite his bottom lip too, to try and keep his voice down. You just continued taking more of him, using your hand to jerk off the rest that didn’t fit. “Darling.” He called out to you, but stopped mid sentence to compose himself. It was getting harder and harder to speak, or to think.
He could feel every fever of his being pulsing, his heart pounding like crazy. The blood rushed to his face and abdomen, making the rest of his limps go numb. Strength was leaving his legs and arms slowly, all while more and more pleasure flourished within him. How his body convulsed every time you licked his tip, or when the inside of your mouth clenched down on him. It felt warm and soft, so good he could feel himself getting closer to the edge.
“Ahh.. keep going, just like that.. please.” Finally he finished his sentence, pleading with you with a meek voice. You didn’t plan on stopping anyway, instead you wanted to make him beg you to stop at the end of this session. Smirking to yourself as you kept doing your own thing, enjoying the noises he’d make. Did it really feel that good? Was what you would have liked to ask, but this is fine too. As long as your lovely boyfriend looks ecstatic and full of bliss, you were content too. Out of nowhere his grip righted by a lot, enough to make it hurt for you. He mumbled apologies while saying, “ah.. I’m clo-close.. haa, sorry., darling…”
What a lucky boy. If today was any other day you would have punished him. Fine, guess you were going to be especially merciful with him. You didn’t mind the slight sting his tug brought you, mouth and hands still working on bringing him over the edge. He let go of your hair in the last minute and clasped it over his mouth. A silent moan left him, then a repressed groan followed. “Nghhnmmm…!! Ahhh..ugh..” his voice was beautiful, you could listen to him all day. Even though his hand wasn’t in your hair anymore, you still didn’t move away. Letting him cum in your mouth, before you finally moved back. When your lips left his dick you made a wet slurping sound, then swallowed everything he offered to you. “Delicious~” you smiled innocently as if you didn’t just make him see heaven.
Suddenly he moved closer to you, sitting up and hands grabbing your cheeks now. “Nanami? Is something?” You wondered, but that curiosity soon got replaced by shock and a joyful feeling you haven’t felt for a while. He kissed your forehead, cupping your face with his hands as he whispered, “I’m glad i can spend my birthday with you.” All while smiling so tenderly, with a calmness and warmth that was unfamiliar to you. Only sometimes he’d get emotional enough to be like this, and whenever he did, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. “Happy birthday, nanami.”
Tumblr media
99 notes · View notes
Text
The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)
Tumblr media
Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...
Week 10: The Kumquat
Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.
You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.
But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.
You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.
But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.
You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.
Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗
You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.
In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.
“Is that necessary?” you asked.
She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.
You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.
They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.
“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”
“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”
You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.
“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”
Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”
“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”
You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.
She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.
But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.
“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.
The doctor nodded.
You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.
You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”
“Of course,” the doctor said.
You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.
When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.
Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.
Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.
“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.
“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.
You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”
“Yes! After yours, of course.”
“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”
“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.
“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”
“It’s really okay, Em.”
She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.
“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”
“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”
“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”
“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.
Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”
“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”
The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”
You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.
“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”
“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”
“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.” 
“I love you, too.”
You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.
91 notes · View notes
liliththeimp · 2 days
Text
Farmhand! Simon HC’s (fem!reader, SFW)
Farmhand. Farmhand but in a way that will water down the harsh southern living into sweet tea and fireflies and cattle all because I'm a silly delulu squirrel who wants my life to be easy right now.
I'm into escapism and fake scenarios can't you tell?
Anywho, my main point about this is I can't stop thinking about farmhand! Simon and its curing my depression a little bit so heres some head cannons lol
(Ain’t proof read, per usual :P)
—————
Farmhand! Simon, who you met after returning home from a trip with your friends, the new masked face a surprise addition to your grandfather’s ranch, considering your grandfather ain’t one who asked for help often. Let alone someone from England.
Farmhand! Simon, who decided to move to the states for a job opportunity, and innocently assuming he’d take care of a lonesome old couple and that was that. Little did h know he’d find your cute little puppy ass fluttering around him curiously every time he turned around.
Farmhand! Simon, who is very distant and quiet, no matter what advances you made to try and slink around to bother him, he would always shy away with a grunt and wrangled horses into their stalls, and your guess was he wasn’t very friendly.
Farmhand! Simon, who is embarrassed by your sudden appearances and advances into helping. He’s grateful for his hat and the bandana tied around his face to hide his embarrassment around you- otherwise you’d find out underneath all that he loved checking you out in that short red gingham dress, the way it rode up your thighs when you bent over the fences to hand him water or reach for his hat to spite a reaction from him.
Farmhand! Simon, who will wake up at the crack of dawn to make back tea and gets the feeding out of the way, so if you woke up early enough, you were able to spot him hard at work before the sun glinted across him.
Farmhand! Simon, who helped carry laundry baskets for you outside before rudely dropping them to go collect some bails of hay for the horses, it only because he got so embarrassed by the way you’d look up to him as you talked, fluttering your lashes like you two were friends.
Farmhand! Simon, who finds you asleep in an empty hay-blanketed horse stall next to Gideon, the newborn horse calf. It melted his heart a bit, seeing the glow on the sunset glisten across your skin, kissing your hair and making you glow even more than you should. To see you curled up against the calf so sweetly.
Farmhand! Simon, who begrudgingly picked you up from your napping post and up into his arms effortlessly, carrying you across the field for a few minutes to admire your sleepy features, the way you twitched your nose, the way you curled up against his chest, curling the fabric of his flannel in your fingers as if you weren’t close enough.
Farmhand! Simon, who put you up to your bed, brushing a stray curl from your temple to hesitantly peck your forehead, bushing his finger across your lips for good measure.
Farmhand! Simon, who will eventually start to come closer to you, and begins to allow your help around the ranch.
Farmhand! Simon, who will work from 5am-12pm for a break and walks in on your making him some lunch (embarrassingly refuses to eat in front of you, instead goes out into the barn to eat with the animals.)
Farmhand! Simon, who nearly looses his mind at how you cook for him, sweet or savory, he thinks it’s divine.
Farmhand! Simon, who got so love sick at your appreciation, went to an auction and got you a new calf, which you name Duck.
Farmhand! Simon, who starts thinking this is your illegitimate child together, (will also get a bit jealous at your attention for the calf instead of him, he wouldn’t allow himself to really feel to though, cause why would he want that nasty fluffy crap?)
Farmhand! Simon, who will bring you out late at night to capture deep in the woods, the virescent glow of fireflies that dances around you lit up your eyes with a beaming smile like some puppy chasing them through the trees, while he watches for afar, finding that this was the moment he fell in love with you.
Farmhand! Simon, who has gotten so comfortable, on his breaks he’ll let you make him picnics and eats with his bandana off, but inched away -only cause he’s shy of you starring at him like he stares at you- or the potential denial of his scarred features who scare you away,
Farmhand! Simon, who will give you a giant bear hug before you or he goes anywhere, just to make sure ;)…especially if youre out in town, he’ll be sure to keep any small town weirdos from getting to close to you.
Farmhand! Simon, who will eventually become so lax around you, he enjoys the time you take to be around him, laying your head on his stomach as you read, the low buzz of the radio drifting around you with the sound of crickets starting to chime together at the sunset. While Simon’s hand had a beer in it, the free one hesitantly inches towards the ends of your hair, twirling the strand around experimentally, hoping you didnt feel it while he memorized the softness and texture, hoping one of these days he can fully run his and through your hair.
Farmhand! Simon, who eventually kisses you the night before you leave for college, wanting you to understand he would wait for you, if you’d wait for him too.
87 notes · View notes
kekaki-cupcakes · 2 days
Note
Heyy! Could I request Jason x Child of Nyx! Reader, i'd figure it'd be a cool thing since you know Zeus and Nyx don't really like each other that and then their children fall in love.
You don't have to do it, if you don't want to and ps. I love all of your works! <3
okay so these have been sitting in my inbox since eons ago, so I decided I was gonna set myself a minimum of 0.4k words because I figured people would rather read a lil bit of their request rather then non of it, but I just churned out 1.2k words of this and I know more then the gods do about nocturnal animals.
enjoy <3
he was raised by wolves - Jason G x child of Nyx reader/animal lover
Tumblr media
»»————- ★ ————-««
Jason dumped his teddy bear jacket on the back of the spinning chair, after he checked there were no hedgehogs eating plum offcuts on it. He’d made that mistake one too many times. There were a lot of miniscule holes in the sleeves of his jacket. 
The medical kit he was looking for was most likely in one of the crates stacked beneath the snake table. The table with the snake tanks on it, obviously. 
Your cabin was dark a lot of the time, when you weren’t there, courtesy of the kingdom of nocturnal animals lurking between books and in pillowcases, so Jason had to turn on a few of the antique lamps you’d found [on the side of the road, of course] so that other people could see.
He got to his knees, wincing at the crack he heard. 
He could also hear a faint hissing. He looked into one of the tanks, and waved at Benjamin. Benjamin was a northern desert night snake. Meaning he looked like if a leopard wearing a choker was turned into a slithery little serpent. Jason was glad you’d passed that pet leopard you used to have onto Pollux and Castor. It got fur all over his clothes.
Benjamin just stuck his tongue out at him, and Jason crawled underneath the desk, looking for the first aid kit every cabin was supposed to have.
There was a pretty high chance you had chucked it out to make room for that little collection of shrinking green frogs you had found in a river by the Hecate cabin, deep in the woods so that when they accidentally cursed bloodlines and the like, no one was in imminent danger. Lou Ellen owed her first born to three different beings, but that was irrelevant. 
He dug past a few boxes of sugar glider pellets, and found the first aid kit. 
“JASON GRACE, SON OF A BITCH, CHILD OF ROME, CONSUL OF DEMIGODS, PRAETOR OF THE FIRST LEGION!”
Jason sat straight up. A thud echoed through the low lit little cabin, and his head began to pound. He’d hit it on the bottom of the snake table. He sniffed, “I said that once.” 
He heard you trot over as he tried to extract himself, the back of his head throbbing painfully. 
“Babe, we talked about this,” you fussed, and yanked him out into the open with the force of someone who took chocolate out of coyotes mouths on the daily. “You gotta stop banging your head! You’re getting that chronic pain from it that Will told you about!”
Jason grumbled about nothing, and squinted as he looked around. Your face was just a blob. 
“You dropped your glasses babe, hear, lemme… wait, hold this,” you said, dumping your wrapped up hoodie into his arms, the one with the moon cycle phases on the back, and then crawling back underneath the snake table. “I’ve got em!”
He watched you slide them back onto his eyes, your hands actually very gentle compared to the yanking from before. He tried not to grin stupidly. The hoodie in his arms wriggled. Jason looked down, and a small spiky red face looked up at him with big shiny eyes.
“Uh…” he said.
You stood up with a huff, “I knew it, you’ve got a concussion. Now you’re slurring your speech!”
“...No, I just wasn’t expecting a fox,” Jason managed to squeak out, staring at the little animal. It was pretty cute. It reminded him of a wolf, but not the wolves he knew, more of a spindly wolf dipped in ketchup. 
You paused, the first aid kit in your hands. “You weren’t? What did you think I was doing in the forest?” 
“I don’t know,” Jason said, standing back up and moving to the squishy blanketed bed behind the humongous crystal ball and stack of telescopes. There were also a few cat playgrounds to weave around, but he managed to sink into your pile of bat shaped teddies and pillows. “Fighting monsters, near death experiences, something regular?”
You rolled your eyes, and sat cross legged on the bed, reaching for his head with those gentle hands that made him understand how you could pick up the deadliest of spiders and feralist of wolverines without even a scratch. 
Jason wasn’t even nocturnal, but he did sink into your hold. 
Then you let go to crack the unfrozen ice pack and let the chemicals take over until it would make the tips of your fingers freezing. Jason knew to expect your cold hands under his shirt, trying to freeze him out. 
He was sort of used to it, though.  
He looked around your cabin while you savagely whacked the poor icepack against one of the many thick framed mirrors lining your walls. A few bats flapped out of their hiding places in the rafters and settled back down. A baby puma hissed from its place by the umbrella stand that was actually just full of swords. 
From the outside, your cabin looked like a tiny portion of a haunted mansion plonked between the Asteria cabin and the Hestia cabin, which was really just a cozy little room for anyone. Jason pet the soft head of the fox napping in his arms. On the inside, though, it was just old lamps and chew toys and even older mirrors. And a lot of poo bags. And record players. And Jason’s hoodies.
You were already wearing his teddy bear jacket, but he didn’t argue when you pressed the ice pack to his head.
“So, what were you really lookin for in there, babe?” you asked, taking back the fox. You held your hand out, and it disappeared into a shadow. 
“Bandages.”
On the other side of the room, out of a shadow, you grabbed a ziploc bag of raspberries. You pulled it back and began feeding the little fox, red staining your cold fingertips. 
“You know you can’t beat Beth, right?” you teased, looking up for a moment with those gorgeous eyes that made Jason’s head feel a little floaty. Or maybe it was just the injury. 
You smirked, “I mean, not that it’s totally not hot when you beat the shit out of people or anything.”
Yep. Definitely just the head injury. Totally.
Jason ate a slightly squashed raspberry. “I know, but I wanted to practise. I was gonna find Will. Can’t remember how to wrap my wrists.”
You passed over the fox, who wiggled out of the hoodie and curled around a fruit bat Squishmellow with a yawn, fangs stained with red that may or may not be berries or blood. 
Jason shuffled forwards on the bed, ice pack falling from his white blonde hair. “My turn?”
“I thought you were going to get the shit beaten out of you by Annabeth?” You said with a smirk. You had that shark tooth necklace on. Jason gave you a half hearted evil eye, and you opened your arms.
He flopped into the hug, pushing you both back onto the bed. A Tasmanian devil [how? You were in America!] and a grumpy looking white tailed deer and about seven different types of bush mice stared at you. 
Jason didn’t care. He snuggled into your hug, chin on your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair.  
He was your favorite feral animal. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
71 notes · View notes
chilschuck · 3 days
Note
Can i request for chilchuck react to reader who like to daydream and after he tell the reader he is married, the reader keep spacing out more often out of sadness and they also try to avoid interacting with him much so she can move on. But laios and the other think it's normal since she always avoid interacting with people ( the reader interact with chilchuck more after falling in love with him )
Do you think he will notice? (ಥ﹏ಥ) (ಡ‸ಡ)
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAHHHH ANON this is such a good concept and made my heart hurt…… i ended up adding some comfort to it because if you’re like me, you need it after reading angst!! :”)))
Tumblr media
— OF COURSE: chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw + hurt/comfort! might be a lil ooc, lol.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 941
✦ i hope this turned out okay!! i made it shorter than my other drabbles by accident but it felt good to end it where it did. i kind of changed the prompt a lil but only because i wanted to give you guys some love from chil still. (;;;w;;;) i’m honestly worried this turned out bad…. hhhhh. i’m so sorry if it’s not what you wanted. ;;; i still hope you enjoy!!! <333
Tumblr media
He knew something was wrong.
It wasn’t difficult to see that you had started avoiding him. Even your gaze refused to meet his own for longer than it had to. Your constant spacing out and stares at the floor said all he needed to hear: you were upset.
It only seemed to get worse when you overheard his talk about reconciling with his wife, any hope you had shattering into a thousand pieces in front of you. From then on, you didn’t smile unless you felt you had to. The thick silence you left in your wake was suffocating, and Chilchuck wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
The other members in the party took it as if you were being your usual spacey self, and didn’t draw any attention to the issue. This only made Chilchuck feel worse; he definitely noticed the change.
You used to hang back with Chilchuck and talk with him constantly, sharing little tidbits about yourselves or chatting mindlessly. Things seemed to come easily when it came to you... Too bad he only realized this now.
The smiles you gave him, the eyes full of affection, the lingering touches… It stung that they were no longer a part of his everyday life. Instead, the sadness that ate at you only bled through to your face, into your actions, and into your silence. It was unfamiliar and unbearable at the same time… Especially with the way you’d closed up further.
Chilchuck wasn’t stupid; he knew you harbored some sort of feelings for him. He wasn’t sure if that made this hurt more than it would otherwise. You were obviously distancing yourself from him, further proving his point that inner party relationships were trouble. Yet, there wasn’t any anger or resentment in his chest towards you. If anything, this was a misunderstanding between the two of you.
Calling your name, he approached you almost apprehensively. The recoil you gave made that familiar sharp pain in his chest reappear. Blurting out an excuse, you made your presence scarce. And just like that, you left him alone again.
Of course he noticed. If anything, he hoped that it was all some sort of miscommunication. Sure, he wanted to reconnect with his estranged wife, but… That’s what they were: estranged childhood sweethearts that grew apart. Along with their love, their relationship changed. Things weren’t something he could fix, and his old flame knew that too. But he hoped more than anything they could sort through their differences and still be at least friends.
Of course you didn’t know. There was no way for you to know, or have known his true intentions. Like everything else he tried to bury deep down, you were fading from his life. Chilchuck couldn’t seem to let this one go, to let you go.
So he chased after you. For once in his life, he decided to not swallow these feelings down. He knew there was only so much he could bury, only so much he’d want to bury. You didn’t deserve that, and he needed you to give him those smiles again. To give him those gazes full of adoration and those tender but fleeting touches…
You didn’t pull your hand out of his immediately. Instead, when he called your name again this time, you turned. Chilchuck swallowed.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Surely there was a better thing to ask at this moment, but your lip quivered nonetheless. A deep sigh leaving you, your gaze met with the floor again.
“…So it’d stop hurting.” Was all you replied, the weight of those words knocking the air out of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand to silence him.
“This is for the best... I hope you understand.” Your voice used to never sound so broken. It was soft in a way that he’d never heard before. You had truly given up on this, and he can’t say he blames you. He’d have given up on himself, too.
But he can’t let himself fall into that same cycle of self-pity. Not again, he assured himself, reaching up to grab a fist full of your top and pulling you down to meet his eyes. “Let me explain this to you. Please. I… I’m not going back to her because of the reason you think.” Chilchuck hadn’t heard himself this pleading in so long. He felt pitiful, and he suddenly remembered why he doesn’t like being vulnerable.
You couldn’t stop your head from nodding a yes to his request, that spark of hope trying to ignite once again in your chest. Trying to snuff it out, you waited patiently for him to continue.
And so he did. Baring it all to you, he decided this would be another step towards being more open with himself. Maybe you’d see him as pathetic for this, but he tried to piece the words together as congruent as possible. The feelings he had for her distinguished with the years spent apart and even some of the time spent together. This whole time he’s been sure that he just wanted to right the wrongs he did, and move on. Hopefully with you, when all this was over.
Of course you said yes. You listened, and with every word that left him, the flame within you rekindled. You weren’t sure what to say for a moment, besides giving a light laugh in relief. Even Chilchuck exhaled a brisk chuckle, scratching the back of his head in nervous habit. He’s not sure he could ever get used to this whole “telling your true feelings” thing.
But for you, he’d try.
Tumblr media
— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <333
87 notes · View notes
Text
Strawberry drabble - Felix x reader x Demetri
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Just a short little story, i wanted to write something for Felix and Demetri before leaving for a vacation.
It was the two of them… And now it is the three of us. It was… a surprise, at first, for them. They knew, of course that they weren’t soulmates, but they were in love, and their bond was so deep… It was what Demetri explained me, as we were sitting in the garden, and I was eating strawberries. They were the first of the season, very good, and I was eating them as soon as I picked them, my fingers soon sticky and pink.
“You know, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have joined the Volturi that easily… It would have been also much harder for me to find my place. It was hard, at first of course, I was from Amun’s coven, a replacement for another tracker, and I had been hidden so much from the world…” As he says that, Demetri scoot closer to me.
“Why do you need to get that close to me?” I ask, amused.
“Darling, I need your presence to thrive!” I giggle as Demetri whine. “Fine, fine…” I keep on eating my strawberries as Metri talk again.
“It was when I first saw Felix that I knew I would follow him anywhere. It was him who insisted to keep me close since that day, and who took care of me, and help me adapt. He trained me, fed with me…” “And then the two of you fell in love?” I ask. “Not yet!” Demetri laugh. “It took us a century to admit we were more than friends. But when we did… Our bond only became deeper and deeper. We were not thinking about mates anymore, why would we? We had each other… And then you appeared, around 900 years after we got together. Adorable little human… We were so relieved when we found out you were the mate to the two of us, and even more when you just accepted it…” “And now it is the three of us.” “And now it is the three of us.” Metri repeat. He then looks at me.
“Are you done eating strawberries? You’re going to get seek if you keep eating more…”
With a smile, I lick clean my fingers coated with sweet juice.
“You little vixen…”
I laugh at his words, and we both perk up as we see Felix walking towards us, done with his duties. “I see my loves are having fun without me…” he says, amused.
“Felix!”
He bent down, kissing Demetri, then me.
“Is everything alright bello?” Demetri asks. “Everything is now, because I’m with you.”
We laugh as Felix lays on the grass, bringing us with him. He wraps his arm around Demetri, and I lay my head on his lap. Everything’s perfect.
53 notes · View notes
3xiles · 23 hours
Text
Sweet lies
Pairing • Toji x gn!reader
Warnings • Angst!, Cheating mentioned, suggestive, manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing, not proof read sorry!! lmk if i missed anything >.<
Word count • 405 words
A/n • This is my first time writing in a while LMAO. I hope you all enjoy! :)) Repost are always appreciated!
Tumblr media
You knew your marriage was going downhill the first time you caught him but, you being young, naive, and stupidly in love you let yourself believe the foolish lies that he would spill to you every night. The tongue that was used to pleasure another being the same one let the words “i love you” effortlessly roll off.
You met Toji when you were fairly young. A fresh college graduate moving away from home to a new city to start your new life. Things were going great! You were able to snag a great job as an accountant and you were making good money. You got a beautiful pent house apartment and were wearing clothes that years ago you thought you would never be able to afford and not to mention all at the age of 24. Yeah, things really were going great for you and things would still be that way if you just hadn’t gone out that night.
You had met a group of girls from this dance class you joined when you first moved and they somehow convinced you to go out clubbing with them one night. ‘What’s the harm in one night out?’ you repeated to yourself in your head, you were never really the clubbing type. Little did you know that one night would somehow change the course of your life. You met Toji on this night out.
He had this charm to him. Maybe it was something about a man that was older that got it you or the strong cologne that hit your nostrils as soon as he walked up. It could’ve been how smooth he was with his words and how dominating his presence was. At first glance he seemed scary but something about him made you feel… safe. Using that deep rasp voice and smooth combination of words he managed to bring you home that night.
It wasn’t something you were proud of, you didn’t like one night stands. Afterwards you were ashamed you would let yourself go like this, especially with a guy you just met not even 2 hours ago! You can’t lie tho, he was the best fuck you’ve ever had. He fell asleep shortly after so you took that as your que to leave. Before you leaving you left your number on his nightstand, you wanted to see more of him but it also made you feel better about the situation. Much to your surprise he ended up calling a few days later and asking you out on a date. It made you feel good, he wanted you. He wanted to turn into something. All that talk at the club wasn’t just to get in your pants, he actually liked you! You both went on more dates and shortly after began dating. It was a very nerve wracking experience for you, him being your first relationship since high school.
You fell hard. He made you feel things you’ve never felt before. He was all you wanted and more. He was nothing like the guys your age, he was grown. He was doing things for you that you’ve only seen with TV couples. Bringing you flowers while you were at work, random dates and gifts, and so much more. Toji was the man of your dreams but like every couple you guys had your ups and downs. The thing that made them all better, that damn mouth of his.
Toji’s words were your drug. He just always knew the right things to say. He had you right in the palm of his hand and you didn’t even know it. The things he has convinced you to do are unbelievable and looking back on it now you definitely wouldn’t have done them. Cutting off all your friends because in his words “They are all too immature” and “bad influences”, moving out of the apartment you loved so so much because he says would be better to wake up with you by his side and even quitting the job of your dreams.. because he promised he would take care of you. He didn’t want you to ever stress your pretty little head or lift one of your polished fingers. You began to rely on him, you began to need him.
About a year and a half into your relationship he proposed and of course you said yes! who were you to say no to him? He was providing for you, keeping you safe, the least you could do was tie the knot with him, right?
Biggest mistake of your life.
Tumblr media
part two???
51 notes · View notes
pspaura27-blog · 3 days
Text
Uncle Sukuna!
Feat. Teacher!
After his graduation, Yaga asks if he wants to be a teacher, citing that he is strong and all, but Yaga actually prays that Sukuna will get a bratty student so he can suffer, too.
Sukuna doesn’t want to live in Sendai, Jin’s PDA with the damn woman and all, so he agrees.
Then, he meets his Karma, the triple S: Satoru, Suguru, Shoko. Urgh.
He is late 3 minutes to the first homeroom class and Gojo breaks the window in a damn fight with Geto.
“Now, who the fuck did that?!”
“Sensei, I—”
“Fuck, you know what? I don’t give a shit, go run laps, all of you brats!”
Gojo Satoru is very bratty, confident in his own strength, and he likes to flip Sukuna off. So, the two duel it out in the training ground.
Sukuna is old and he also wins(?) in canon, so he knocks Satoru to the ground and mocks him.
“Ha! So this is all the Six Eyes holder can do, huh? I guess you are fucking overrated, brat. Now, get your ass up and go do the fucking report!”
He regrets it later when Satoru wouldn’t leave him alone, determined to win against him one way or another.
Satoru seems like the type to knock his room at 3 in the morning for a round.
And he has to clean up after their mess.
The Star Plasma in particular. Sukuna knows it. Geto Suguru is as fucking reckless as his buddy, that’s a fucking apartment he blows up! And who deals with paperworks and those fucking elders? Him!
[[Sensei, it wasn’t me—]]
[[I’ll chop you into damn pieces, brat! Better be prepare for an F!]]
God, does this mean he fight with Toji?!
Sukuna is waiting at the gate for his students to return with Riko. Then, he lets Gojo get stabbed because—
“You didn’t see that, huh? That’s pathetic. You better train harder if you wanna call yourself the strongest.” Sukuna scoffs and throws him to Geto. “Get out of my way, brat.”
“…” Riko thinks she knows where Gojo gets his attitude from!
After wrecking buildings, Sukuna wins and gets Megumi..?
He feels his veins throb, does he look like a charity person or something? Hello, he even has a face tattoo! Take care of your own damn brat because he will not do that!
Probably heals Toji so he doesn’t have to take Megumi.
“Our teacher might look like that but he is a softie.” Suguru smiles softly. “When he told us about this mission, he said that—”
“Do it, brats, if you’re so weak that you need another brat to protect you. I dare you!”
“And the elders—”
“I don’t take order from those weaker than me.”
“Oh, I didn’t— expect that.”
Suguru hums. “He likes kids, actually.”
Sukuna goes to visit his bratty nephew that month. Yuuji is 3 but he runs to tackle his leg like a little octopus.
“Un-cal Kuna!” Yuuji squeals. “Whoa, me misses you s’a lot! Kuna, you bwing me owange candies?”
“Are you missing me or candies, brat?”
He grumbles but still pulls out a bag of orange candies for his toddler nephew. He doesn’t spoil the brat. He just doesn’t want to listen to him complaining.
“Oh, dear, how are you here?” Kaori walks out to greet him with a surprised smile. “I thought our elders fried you alive by now. It was Master Tengen after all.”
“Like those wrinkle bastard can do anything to me.”
That star brat is, like, 10 years older than Yuuji. Deep down, he thinks it’s just wrong, it could have been Yuuji, but he will never admit it.
Yuuji chews on his candy, mumbling a new word under his breath. “Bash-tard.”
“Don’t repeat that, brat!”
50 notes · View notes
sportswriters · 22 hours
Text
dating a rival - j. swayman
Tumblr media
pairing: jeremy swayman x reader | suggestive, a bit smutty | established relationship | wc: 729 | warnings: swearing, dirty talking, sub!jeremy
welcome post!
dating a rival wasn’t easy. when you had to move from north carolina to boston for a job opportunity, being present as a carolina hurricanes fan became impossible. you cheered from the comfort of your home, missing the energy that only raleigh could build at the pnc arena. game day. you were split between your home team and your boyfriend’s performance. the hardest thing to deal was that jeremy couldn’t help being a fucking great goalie. the bruins weren't doing that well, but jeremy blocked every single shot from the opponent. frustrated groans left your mouth the whole game. no water, no pacing around, no hair grabbing were enough to calm you down.
“fuck. jer, why do you have to be so good?” you muttered, answering yourself seconds after, “yeah, that’s what caught my attention in the first place. fuck.”
he texted you as soon as he finished his interview, so you called him.
“hi, baby! congrats on the win, i’m so proud of you for dealing with the canes all by yourself!”
he laughed, knowing how pissed off you probably were for the loss.
“thank you, love. how are you feeling? don’t pretend to be only happy for me.”
“it was a great game, i’m proud of my other goalie too, okay?” you sighed. “you should come over, i’m gonna get us some food. it’s gonna be delivery, though. i have no brain cells left to cook.”
“no plans on poisoning my food?” he joked.
“i have some plans for you, but none of them are deadly.” you bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. lowering your voice, almost as a whisper, you said:  “come over.”
jeremy froze on the other side of the line.
“okay. be there soon.”
after dinner, you talked about the game from two different perspectives. it was chill, a moment to catch up as a couple, some laughs and all of that. but deep inside jeremy couldn’t stop thinking about the real reason you’d invited him over. couldn’t stop thinking of having you all over him tonight after this win.
“i can see your thoughts working, jer. do you want to say something else?”
“i was wondering if you, hum, if you had something other than dinner in mind.”
you tilted your head, faking a confusion jeremy didn’t notice because of how nervous he was.
“well, in fact, i was thinking of congratulating you. but i didn’t want to jump right into it.”
jeremy nodded.
“do you want that right now?”
he was trying to put himself together, finding it hard to do such a thing when your eagle eyes were watching him like that.
“tell me what you had in mind.”
you got up from your cuddling position to sit on his lap. with a soft caress on his bearded cheek, you said: “i’m really proud of you. i’m proud of how fucking great you were out there.” you gave him a peck, his eyes didn’t lose focus once. “so, this is how it’s going to be… i’m going to give you everything you deserve, you’ll decide what it is. i’ll give you everything you want, jer, because you worked for it.”
you adjusted yourself on his lap, getting a helpless moan from him. he was gone already.
“i need you to tell me what you want, baby, i need your words.” your voice turned into a whisper as you got close to his ear, leaving soft kisses on the side of his neck. “want me to start by sucking your cock? let you go all the way down my throat? or do you want me to slide over it right now? i could let you come inside, you know? i think it’s a proper special occasion.”
you could feel him hardening. all the talking with soft kisses were leaving his mind blurred.
“jer, i need your words. this time it should be all about you, then in my turn i would get what i deserve. don’t you think that’s fair enough?” you grabbed his chin, facing his fucked up expression.
you waited for his response, noticing his every move. it was fun to have him like this once in a while, you were going to enjoy every step of the long way.
“please, just… just kiss me and we’ll go from there, okay?” he gulped. “just fucking kiss me right now.”
30 notes · View notes