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luxsky · 5 months

Text

Kicking out

Rhysand x reader

Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.

Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).

It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?

Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.

It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.

Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.

Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.

Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.

You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."

You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."

You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."

He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.

I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.

"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.

Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.

The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.

His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."

''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."

That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.

He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.

"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.

Splash.

"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"

Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.

"I think my water just broke."

Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.

And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.

#acotar #rhysand #fanfic #Rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #pregnancy #x reader #pregnant reader #Soft #rhysand imagine #a court of thorns and roses

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popquizhot-shot · 10 months

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STOP I LOVE YOUR PLATONIC!MIGUEL FICS <333

would you be okay with writing smth where teen!reader makes him something?? like maybe reader loves making things out of paper (like paper flowers, butterflies, tiny stars, etc.) so they decided fo make smth for miguel?

and maybe reader is nervous he won't like it?? :(

I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS<333

Origami and Suit Malfunctions- Miguel O' Hara x teen!spider!reader

See, the thing with being a part time employee of the spider society meant that you had a lot of free time compared to other spiders. Normally anyone would go back to their own universe, but yours was sadly destroyed.

Sad. Anyways, it meant that you had a lot of free time. Free time to annoy Miguel, to conspire with Lyla, to practice your techniques..... and to hone your previously horrendous origami skills.

Like, no joke, you had absolutely no talent when it come to folding paper into intricate shapes. But hey, bored and borderline insanity works wonders for the brain.

So, slowly but surely, you taught yourself to make paper stars and flowers and boats. But you wanted to make something for Miguel. Why?

Who knows? Like I said, boredom does things to the brain.

Miguel wasn't exactly an open book and he'd probably die of a heart attack if you gave him flowers. You didn't have time to make hundreds of little paper stars so that was ruled out-

"What're you thinking about?" the older man's raspy voice reaches your ears.

"How to get your suit to malfunction." you quip back.

"Why must you torture me so?" he replies in a monotone voice as he sits on his seat, opposite you.

"I'm your employee, it's my job."

"Your job is to be a pain in the ass?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Precisely." you stick your tongue out and he rolls his eyes.

After a few seconds, you clear your throat, "Hey, uh, what's your favorite sport?

He's silent for a while and you can see his eyes gloss over, his reply is shaky, "Soccer."

You nod with a thumbs up, "Thank you Bossman Bosserson."

"You call me that again, I'll throw Lyla at you." he threatens as you go to leave the office.

"Jokes on you, I'd love that!" you shout back you walk out.

-----

Finally, he thinks, Finally this mission is over. Now he can go have a hot shower and a good meal and some of the amazing chai you make and he'll be in a somewhat good mood.

When he enters his office, he stunned at the silence.

Normally he can hear the sound of your feet tapping against the floor or your humming and the the fact that he can hear nothing is unnerving.

"Kid?" he calls out, Answer me.

He swings to the top of the platform, and you're not where you normally are. You're not sitting there, zoned out with your foot tapping incessantly like a little child. You're not where you're supposed to be.

"Miguel, your heart is racing, you okay?" Lyla asks him.

"Where's my kid?" he asks her.

"Oh baby Mig's hanging out with Hobie!" she says cheerfully.

"What?" he all but growls.

"Hey! Chill! She's fine! In fact, " the AI smirks and nods towards his desk, "She left something for you."

He turns and his heart skips a beat.

There's a little paper soccer ball on his desk.

It's tiny in his palm, but it has your initials and a post-it stuck on top.

"You said you liked soccer, so this is for you :D. I would never try to screw with your suit, don't worry ;)"

The ink smudges as a tear drops onto where you've signed the post it.

"God, this spider, I swear." he grumbles and wipes his eyes.

"This spider...what?" he jumps and turns at the sound of your voice. You're standing behind him with your hands behind your back and a sheepish smile on your face.

"This spider is my kid." he pats your cheek softly, "Thank you, this means a lot."

You nod with a smile, "You're welcome."

He narrows his eyes at you, "What have you been up to? Why are you being so nice?"

You slowly back away, "Pfft, what are you talking about? I've done nothing wrong"

A hologram pops up and Miguel watches as the T-Rex bellows at Pavitr's retreating form, and his head whips to you.

"Bye! Love you!" you shriek and jump off the platform, disappearing as he tries to follow you.

With a start he realizes what you just said.

"I hate that kid." he groans and then notices that he's grinning like an idiot.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #atsv #atsv x reader #mini miguel<33

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gutsby · 5 months

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Pregnant Pause

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected p-in-v (duh). Daddy Daryl + daddy!kink Daryl. Difficulties trying to conceive.

Note: Part 2 to Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk. I fully blame @murdadixon and the Blood Ties series for all the pregnancy-related one shots lately - veryyyy much in my Daddy Daryl era now 🫣💓💘

If trying to get knocked up was an Olympic sport, you would’ve won the gold.

On the merits of your efforts alone you and Daryl probably should’ve had several hundred babies under your belt by now. Thousands. The past six months had been nothing but babymaking, a steady stream of rawdog bedroom rodeos and two-person pushups being your primary form of sustenance. But, try as you might, there wasn’t so much as a whiff of a kid in sight after all this time. You were starting to lose hope.

When, one month, your period didn’t make its usual appearance two days after the time it was meant to, you were over the moon with excitement.

Swinging one leg over Daryl’s sleeping form to straddle him in bed, you leaned down and shook him hard.

“Daryl!” you hissed, pinching him under his shirt.

The man below you grunted, shuffled, and blinked uncertainly up at you before slowly raking his eyes over your body and starting to smirk.

“Climb on, cowgirl,” he purred, already starting to tug your panties down.

Your hands quickly covered his and stalled their movements, a giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“Not that, not that!” you whispered, “I’m late.”

“Fer what?” Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand.

“My period.”

Daryl’s gaze darted back to yours. A beat as he processed what you meant.

“No shit?”

“Shit.” You were nodding, beaming.

Daryl hauled himself to his feet in a second, taking you with him. Then he slipped you onto the floor and raced you to the door, practically fighting you through the threshold of the bathroom to get to the cupboards first.

Together, you flung cabinet doors open far and wide and went foraging for little blue boxes in somewhat of a frenzy. Daryl was chucking pads and tampons and rolls of toilet paper over his shoulder while you stuck yourself waist-deep in another stuffy wooden space, searching in earnest for that stupid Clearblue logo.

“Got it!” Daryl chirped. You almost smacked your head on the sink coming out so fast.

“Yeah?!”

Daryl thrust a blue-and-white stick in your direction, grinning with pride.

Your eyes narrowed just a little. Your stomach sank.

“Daryl, that’s a thermometer.”

Your boyfriend’s mouth hung slightly ajar in an ‘o’ shape, and you couldn’t even be mad at his attempt.

Trying to hide your dismay, you sighed and told him to keep looking. You crawled back over to the cupboard and felt a gentle coil just then start to take shape in your stomach—whether that might’ve been a real-life baby or another burst of anxious nerves, you couldn’t be sure. You and Daryl continued to comb over the boxes and bottles lined across your shelves.

That was how your day had started. It continued, at present, outside a largely dilapidated Target Superstore, with your hands on your hips and your eyes scanning a sea of the undead that occupied its front entrance. Shit was worse than any Black Friday crowd you’d ever seen.

“You sure you don’t wanna check the Walgreens?” you asked, tightening your grip on the rifle in your hands.

“Place was overrun last time I checked. Got a camp of military types stationed nearby too. Best ta leave ‘em be,” Daryl answered.

You suspected if anyone came across the two of you now they’d be put off just the same—with the AK-47 in your arms and the crossbow/M4 Carbine combo on Daryl’s person, you probably looked every bit as lethal as you’d ever been.

All for an itty bitty pee stick and some snacks.

You sat down on one of the red cement balls to your left and crossed your arms. You watched the herd. If there was just some way to slip in, sight unseen, and sneak past their rotting bodies to get to the Sexual Wellness section, maybe rappel from the ceiling and drop dead on the spot, go in guns blazing or else just—”

“Mask it,” Daryl said, suddenly.

You raised an eyebrow but quickly had your curiosity quelled when Daryl nodded toward a throng of walkers down the way.

There were four or five of them stacked together, crushed between shopping carts and pinned, interminably, in place as they stood, hissed, and clawed in your general direction.

Daryl had a hatchet in hand in a second. You watched, enthralled, as he made lightning quick work of the walkers, hacking off their arms, dismantling their jaws, and slinging rope around their bodies like they were little more than a miniature herd of cattle. He came back smiling, probably thinking to himself how proud Michonne would be if she could see him now.

“Here,” he hummed. He passed over the rope attached to two jawless walkers like they were pets on a leash.

You accepted it and joined him as he walked, eyeing your newly-tripled group with a curious look.

“Should we—” you started.

“Not naming them,” Daryl said before you could finish.

The six of you trudged along a path of broken glass and steered toward one of the semi-shattered doors. Your stomach started to twist when the sounds of the groaning walkers within reached your ears.

“’S’okay. Nothin’s gonna hurt us with these ugly fucks around,” Daryl murmured to you, glancing back at the doe-eyed, mutilated geeks at your rear.

You nodded silently and followed his lead. The pair of you were practically halfway through the entrance now, making your way past piles of debris and gradually drawing closer to the hissing mob inside. You eyed the looming horde, chewed the inside of your cheek, and yanked your brand new friends a little closer.

And, like magic, the herd hardly stirred when you approached the perimeter. A few parted ways enough to give you entry and, when you’d stepped inside, proceeded to close right back around as if you were one of their own. Not a single snarling mouth or clouded eye turned your way as you and Daryl shuffled ahead, mimicking their moans and hisses and occasionally trading looks as if to say, ‘No fucking way this is working.’

You carried on. Followed by sight where streams of light went pouring in through the caved-in ceiling. Even looked to a couple worn and faded aisle numbers and quickly learned you were much closer than you thought.

You slowed your pace.

“Condoms, 2:00,” you whispered, trying to direct Daryl’s attention to the right.

The pregnancy tests were always stationed somewhere near the condoms—like a warning, you thought. You never could’ve imagined you’d be so happy to see that silent admonition in your life, now, as you and Daryl sidled over to the scattered rows of sexual wellness products and took a closer look.

Daryl reached down, seized a box, and held it up to you.

“Nope. Ovulation test,” you shook your head.

Another.

“Pantyliners.”

“Goddamn, how many pussy products do y’all need?” Daryl groaned, stepping aside to let you check the shelves yourself.

You found a pregnancy test in four seconds flat. You chucked the box his way and grabbed half a dozen more.

Internally, you would’ve loved to celebrate this momentous occasion, but rationally, you knew there were several hundred flesh-eating horrors just waiting for you to fuck up and serve yourselves on a platter a stone’s throw away. Moreover, you were ill at ease—almost fearful—of the result you might get from the tests. After six months of setbacks and cyclic, habitual frustration, you almost didn’t want to know one way or another. You weren’t fit to face another disappointment.

When your gaze flitted to Daryl’s, you saw his expression had softened. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and cradled your head to his chest.

“Don’t matter what the test says,” he murmured into your hair, stroking it softly, “’m gonna put a damn baby in ya if it’s the last thing I do.”

You surprised yourself by bursting into laughter, not tears, on his front, trying to stifle the sounds in his shirt as he hugged you tighter. You squeezed him back, held him close, and almost forgot your four drooling companions and the many more still prowling about the store. You turned your head up to Daryl.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too.”

Daryl leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips.

He probably meant it to be a peck, nothing more than a second or two, but when you pulled him in and really kissed him back, he didn’t mind at all.

He walked you back into a shelf, pushed your body as careful as he could so as not to disturb any items behind you. You brought a hand to his hair and threaded it tight through your fingers, prompting the smallest of groans between you. Daryl stepped a little closer.

The second your tongue breached the seal of his lips, you felt a hand slide down to your backside and nudge you up a little, so you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues delved deeper, hands roamed further, and moans took on a volume that likely wasn’t safe at all for your current surroundings. Your four gummy-mouthed comrades stood as silent and still as ever.

“Wanna— have another go for good measure?” you muttered against Daryl’s lips. Hips grinding with his against all your better judgment.

“Couldn’t...hurt,” Daryl groaned in return.

Undoubtedly, it could do more than just hurt you—if those walkers sniffed you out, they’d kill you—but, as it was, neither of your hormone-charged bodies had the presence of mind to say any differently. You and Daryl shed clothes quicker than either of you could comprehend and, within a minute, were back on each other with another flurry of quick, frantic kisses.

Daryl gripped your bare hips, pinned them to the shelf, and almost cursed in your mouth when the whole damn thing threatened to give way.

In a blink, he’d grabbed the metal behind you and was slowly, desperately trying to yank it back while you cast a look around you.

Nothing roaming nearby. At least as far as you could see.

You shifted as though you were going to slide out of Daryl’s arms, but he just drew you closer. Once he’d righted the shelf, he secured his arm underneath you and grinned.

“Wanna take this someplace a little more private?”

You nodded and motioned toward the big ‘Rx’ sign at the end of the aisle. Daryl followed your gaze.

The pharmacy counter would have to do.

You were propped up against the cool surface in no time at all—right after Daryl had tied the walkers to a nearby pole—and suddenly you felt warmth all around. In spite of your nearly stark naked stature, you were enveloped by Daryl’s body, pressed flush against the counter and feeling his touch run every which way he pleased. He kissed, licked, and sucked every supple inch of your skin and acted like it was the first time he’d tasted you in ages. Like it wasn’t last night, and the morning before that, and every day preceding that he’d gotten his fill.

Daryl watched with eyes that drank you in like a novelty, and somewhere deep within you both, you knew you needed this now.

You hardly had a moment’s time to think before Daryl was thrusting inside you. Laying you flat on your back and fucking you hard against the counter with your legs draped over either one of his shoulders.

Daryl fought back a moan when your walls first welcomed him, slow at first, but maddening all the same. You felt a hand drift to your neck and seize it at the base, saw Daryl lean in a little and say, through gritted teeth,

“Tha’s my good girl— take daddy’s cock.”

You whimpered in response, feeling him rut his hips even harder. Daryl squeezed your throat as he did, and, seeing how much you loved it, held it there as long as you could take it before you came gasping for air.

He’d fill you to the hilt, pull out, and do it all again, quietly moaning your name as he pumped in and out.

“Fuck, Daryl, I— fuck,” you tried, and failed, to speak a coherent sentence as the archer picked up speed.

“Wha’s’at, honey? Ya say sumn’?” Daryl pried, pretending like he wasn’t already sending you straight to the brink of orgasm with the force of each stroke.

You hummed in an effort to conceal your moan but ended up letting loose an even louder sound, punctuated by something of a shriek when Daryl delivered a particularly hard blow. You clamped a hand over your mouth and watched Daryl shoot a look over his shoulder. Then he turned back, smirking.

“Didn’t quite catch tha’, honey,” he managed between ragged thrusts, “Wanna moan a little louder so the whole fuckin’ store can hear?”

You shot him a look as if to say, ‘Get fucked’—then pulled him even deeper with your fingers wrapped fast around his forearms. Daryl hardly seemed fazed, simply dropping a hand between your legs and offering another shit-eating grin when your body jolted under his touch.

“Feel good, baby?” he hummed.

You nodded and whimpered. Couldn’t help but clench when he leaned forward and angled your legs higher. Daryl let out a throaty moan.

“Gonna cum f’me?”

Before you could answer, he lowered himself even closer, ‘til your legs were all the way up by your ears and your body was chock-full of pleasure, all but brimming with tears. You tried to nod, found that you could scarcely move, and felt Daryl cup your face in his hand as he continued to fuck you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip,

“Cum fer daddy, then. Cum all over this cock.”

Daryl knew he didn’t need to tell you twice. In a matter of seconds he felt you come undone beneath him, hands gripping him tight and walls clenching even harder. He caught your lips in a sloppy kiss, tried to quiet your moans, but found himself chasing that high not too long after. He spilled his seed inside you and watched your face contort with pleasure—not from your climax alone, but that pure, primal feel of his warmth spreading out deep within you.

The two of you parted, panted, and grinned in each other’s faces like that wasn’t the single dumbest, and most dangerous, fuck you’d had in your entire lives.

You didn’t need to exchange a word; you knew you shared identical thoughts. Daryl squeezed your thigh.

Twenty minutes later, with your walker quartet in tow, you paced a nervous path back and forth before your car in the parking lot. On the hood sat half a dozen, urine-soaked pregnancy tests with the screens facing down. You stopped and turned to Daryl, eyes locking on his.

“Ready?”

“Flip ‘em.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut

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topmalereaderblog · 8 months

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Henry Cavill // Mature Thoughts ⚠️

Henry fucking Cavill one of Hollywood's dilfs many people wondered about Henry's life but he liked to keep to himself. Little did they know he was a massive slut for his husband's cock.

Henry was currently on all fours his hairy legs spread out taking every inch of his husband cock. It was funny to imagine such a big man turn nothing but a cock loving slut. Who would have guessed the man of steel like it up his ass.

"Look at yourself, Henry," you said, grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling it back, making him watch himself in the mirror. "This ass is mine, right babe? Only I can make you feel good like this," his hairy ass juggled with every trust you gave."Say something for me, please baby, let me hear your beautiful sounds."

"Ah~ please, I c-cant no more" he looked fucked out with how hard you were thrusting inside him your tip constantly abusing his prostate. He couldn't even focus on himself due to the feeling of you big cock stretching him the sounds made with every thrust sounded so pornografic but fuck was it hot.

Henry could feel your balls slap against his hairy ass the lube mix with cum make its way to his hair balls and dripping onto the sheets causing a small wet stain to form underneath you both as you fucked him doggy style. "C'mon babe cum for me one more time, so close please."

You rested your chest against Henry back, trying to put yourself deeper into him. He was the best thing you've ever had, his tight entrance wrapped around you so perfectly while his walls pulsed around you. You knew he was close to cumming you he just need more motivation.

"C'mon Henry cum for me be a good boy for me."

"S-shit I can't, I can't cum anymore please," his voice sounded so out of breath so desperate. "F~fuck."

"That's right babe your so close. Look at yourself taking my cock so well," you said putting him in a headlock while making eye contact through the mirror. "Look at yourself pathetic cock maybe we should cage it up huh- you want that, want me to cage your useless cock, fuck~," you grunted out his walls were clenching tightly on you trying to milk you for everything you had.

Small moans left Henry his dick hasn't been stimulated, only relying on you to make him cum his cock swing up and down occasionally hit his his stomach and happy trail. You could feel Henry grip your arm tightly as small drops of cum came out from his tip seeing his head pulse with every drop his foreskin rolling back occasionally just a bit.

As you gave one final thrust, he could feel you emptying yourself inside him. He felt full and complete and sticky most of his cum from his previous orgams ended up stuck in his chest and stomach hair and small amounts on his pubes whiel all yours ended up deep inside him.

"I'll make us a bath," you said, kissing the back of his neck with lightly massaging his hips.

#male reader #male reader fanfic #male reader insert #male reader smut #top male reader #dom male reader #x male reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader #x male reader smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x male reader #henry cavill x top male reader #henry cavill x dom male reader

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hanasnx · 9 months

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prompt: #13

prompt list | rules

MINORS DNI 18+

WORD COUNT: 0.7k | CHARACTERS: brian o’conner x gn!reader

NOTES:

i don’t write for f&f. i just saw the first one today bcos the actual first time i watched it i remembered nothing. i was kind of inspired like brian was stuck in my head and he needed to go somewhere so i had to write him a little tidbit. i hope donnie loves it

i know brian is mostly a sub but i don’t feel like he acts like a sub in this post. sorry:/ i have a tendency to do that with my writing. hope his voice still makes sense anyway!

WARNINGS: established relationship, reader is mentioned to wear heels and a mini-skirt, accused of trying to make brian jealous and is lowkey true, no angst just a fun little smutty kind of argument.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you shakin’ your ass in front of the whole line—“ Brian’s storytelling is nothing short of greatly exaggerated, causing you to scoff in response. It’s hard to condemn him when he wears that grin so well. Your eyes follow as his finger points and gestures to make his point, as if he’s passing over that “whole line.”

“‘Shaking my ass’?” you question incredulously, sitting up in the passenger seat to adjust further facing him. “I was walking!” As if swaying your hips naturally is the same.

“Yeah, but you know,” he’s quick to interject, glancing between you and the road as his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. “You’ve got those little, black, strappy heels I like- you’re wearing a mini-skirt- c’mon, what were they supposed to think?” The combative nature of the conversation only eggs you to rise to the occasion.

“There’s no chance in hell you think the fact I happened to be walking in front of guys means I was looking for attention.” Your hair whips around your forehead, the winds through the open windows forcing you to heighten your voice over it.

One single, clean look from Brian, blue eyes lingering in yours as he drawls, “You did with me.” that damned handsome curl to his lips, and you land against the seat. A huff of defeat leaves you like your argument deflated.

“That was different—“

“—No, no—“ Once again you have to shout over him.

“—That was different, Bri, and you know it—!”

“—You can’t fool me, baby, you did it because you like when I get like this.” A self satisfied gloat and an affirming nod from him is enough to make you wish you could pull his perfect hair out in retaliation.

Your pause of disbelief causes Brian to eye you again. It’s irritating to say the least how deeply he takes pleasure in it.

“You are so full of shit.” you mutter, shifting to swing your knees in the direction of your door, glaring out onto the landscape.

Taunting, and superior, Brian lets out two victorious laughs. “Ha, ha! I gotcha, baby, can’t hide nothin’ from me.” his pompous words pair with an emphasizing smack onto your bare thigh, and then a squeeze. When you strategically don’t play along, Brian ducks his head forward, fighting for a peek at your face turned away. “Aw, don’t be pissy, sweetheart, you’re only mad you got caught.”

That thrill in the pit of your stomach, mixed with the annoyance in your brain gets the better of you. You snap, “Shut up, Brian.”

“‘Shut up’—? Oh, okay, I get it. ‘Shut up.’ Makes sense.” That grip on your flesh hardens, and you give in order to direct your gaze to him. His expression hasn’t changed much, but his tone sure has. Tonguing the inside of his cheek as he nods nice and slow. “You’re so in for it when we get home.” It’s meaning sent straight down between your legs.

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chrosllo · 2 months

Text

fem reader, dark-contents, stepdad leon, weird leon, stalker(?)leon, dubcon, somno

do not interact if you are ageless/blank blog or underage — please.

Leon still remembers running his fingers through your hair, dividing the strands into three and braiding each side.

He always did it so calmly, putting on little bows, letting your baby-hair curl over your temple.

And when you went to school, he would kiss you on the forehead and say “Leon will pick you up later, yes?” You always gave him a beautiful smile and he knew he was doing a great job being the father figure you didn't have.

But suddenly everything became hateful, remembering the flower clips in your hair, the baby-pink dresses became his guilt.

You were turning twenty, college seemed to limit your time with your stepfather and magically, Mr. Kennedy didn't see you grow up.

Leon thought he would see his little girl, who used to play with rag dolls and ask for princess tiaras, but no.

You were grown up.

Leon's first reaction was to lose his breath, definitely. He watched the cleavage of your breasts bouncing through the tank top as you opened your arms to hug him. He seemed weak, he softened with longing for your affection, for your breasts pressed against him.

He seemed stuck in the past, disassociating, you were still his lil’girl, yes.

But then, your mother said that your return would be permanent and for a few minutes it seemed like a nightmare. Leon was happy, seriously, he wanted to give you compliments, take care of you like he did in the past, but now it seemed impossible.

He left the room, dizzy, went up the stairs and sat on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to control his arousal, the rush he felt when he watched you look at him, your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face.

You looked confused, sad. You wish Leon had reacted better to your return. You went to your parents room, knocked on the door and even though Leon hadn't jerk off, he seemed to react scared.

“Oh, hi sweetie.” He said, his deep voice making you waltz closer to him, your fingers running against Leon's broad shoulders.

“Any problem? Are you ‘kay?" You couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind.

“No, no babe… I'm very happy to have you back, sorry. Maybe I'm a little tired from work.” He says, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, affectionately.

“You scared me” You gave him your puppy-eyes and once again Leon looks confused, he feels his boner throbbing against his pants and it's hard not to notice “I missed you, Leon, I really wanted to see you.” You were so cute, your words were cute, he was your adorable stepfather and nothing more. You stretched out your arms, laid your head against his shoulders and with your hands you hugged the thick, calloused fingers he has, you liked the texture. You placed a kiss on Leon's cheek and looked at him lovingly again.

“I’m going to spend my vacation here, I hope we can enjoy it a lot, daddy.”

Leon sighs and hears you coming down the stairs and shivers. He didn't like the “daddy” coming out of your lips, mocking him.

The days go by and Leon is definitely weird.

He watches you from everywhere, even if unintentionally. He watches you swing your legs when you’re back to the door.

He looks at you through the bathroom’s crack when you take a shower or even pees.

He lurks around your things, curious, even if you show him later.

Somehow, he makes a point of having control over your day, knowing everything about you without you suspecting anything.

You always end the night on the couch, you sleeping on his lap and Leon seems too good to do anything with your asleep-body.

But he still comes into your room when you're not there…

He goes through your stuff, because he knows you won't notice.

Leon smells your clothes, your panties and he doesn't care if they're used or not, damn, he just wants to have you with him. He runs his calloused fingers through the fabric, rubs his dick and jerks off to the delicious smell of your panties. Leon hopes you'll never know how many times he's fucked your pillow or the sheets of your bed. The dry cum you'll never notice.

Leon likes to imagine that instead of your panties, your pussy will be there, probably a tight cunt and he would do anything to breed you, see the cum coming out of you while you look confused.

The sex between him and your mother even seems to have improved, Leon is so passionate about it and now, he doesn't seem to want to hide what he does from you...

No.

Visits to your room become constant... you pretend to sleep and feel his fingers on your cheek, tenderly. Leon always says “I love you, my love, I’m sorry, yes?” He looks guilty, but you don't understand.

You feel him snaking his fingers against your body, you feel sleepy… you like how he rubs himself against you from behind. You know Leon locked the door and he finds you naked from the waist down. Leon groans when even asleep, your body responds, your pussy is so wet that he gets under the covers and fucks you, slowly.

His breath hits your skin, your nipples are hard, you can feel him inside your walls, but you don't react. He whimpers against your ear “Forgive daddy, please— Hmmm, your pussy feels so good, little girl.”

Leon cries as he fucks you and even though he doesn't know you're conscious, you enjoy it so much when your step-father uses you.

You feel his fingers against your belly, Leon's dick is so thick that you can feel it on your stomach. You want to moan, scream, you like how he fills you up so much, how his sweat drips against your skin, your pussy is wet, dripping so much, he wants you to squirt.

You want to ask him to cum inside, but Leon doesn't... Your ass is dirty with cum.

You pretend to sleep, Leon kisses you, fixes his pants and leaves your room quietly.

And the next day… Leon and you act normally.

You hope it happens again.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine

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ncis-nerd · 7 days

Text

But Daddy I Love Him

ship: older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader. wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, mentions of cheating, older nat, jerk nat, younger reader, wanda is kinda a dick, age gap, arguing, being ignored.

a/n: happy ttpd day!!

"I'm done with being your second choice Natasha. Just because I am younger than you, it doesn't mean you can just go off with other women because you're scared to admit that they are what you are looking for. Someone older, more mature, someone you can relate to" Y/N exclaimed, her small frame against the older women's.

Her green eyes met y/n's gaze which only confirmed what y/n feared. "That's it? You aren't going to say anything?" Y/N spokes as she grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

"I'm so sick of Wanda! Don't think I didn't see all the ways she touched you. Her hands always on you whenever the two of you were together. I'll tell you this Natasha. I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'" Y/N threw her arms up in protest and huffed.

"Where are you gonna go." Natasha spoke dismmisingly. She doesn't think you'll actually do it. You have no where to go, no one to go to. Her eyes watering at the slight chance that you may be serious.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Natasha had an award dinner and she asked you last minute to come. It was odd she didn't ask you earlier in advance because they usually know about these things at least 6 months in advance with scheduling and whatnot. But you didn't think much of it. Because you didn't want to accept the alternative.

You came as her date but it sure didn't feel like it. You were the youngest there, all the avengers were at least 10 years ahead of you. It didn't help that your girlfriend left you to fend for yourself, your eyes stuck on her and Wanda. Natasha threw her head back, laughing. Wanda's hand on her shoulder. Their prolonging eye contact. The way they looked at each other. It gave you a bad feeling in your gut but you pushed it away.

No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know it's crazy. But he's the one I want.

You refused to accept it. She said she'd never let it come between you guys. That your age difference would never break you up. She lied. You rose up from the table but no one even noticed, everyone engrossed in their conversation. A stray tear fell from your glassy eyes.

You made your way to the bathroom. Attempting to keep your composure, they already think you're immature, you don't want them to see you as a baby on top on that.

You looked at yourself in the large glass window. You looked at your reflection. Your dress glistened in the light. The door swings open. It's Wanda. Of course she was the one who noticed you missing. Ironic isn't it.

"Y/N" she spoke, her voice filled with fake concern but a hint of guilt. You refused to meet her eyes, not willing to give her that sense of comfort. "Y/N, I'm not going to lie to you just because you're younger than us. I like Natasha. And honestly it feels like she is into me too. There's nothing I can say to make you feel better but I assure you I would never make a move on her while the two of you are together. I promise." Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

"I have money, I know you don't have anywhere to go but if you and Natasha should split, please call me. I don't want to on your own, fending for yourself. I can help you get an apartment or something." Wanda offered.

I just learned these people try and save you'. Cause they hate you

Of course, of course she wants to "take care of you". Because you're the little fragile thing who can't handle heartbreak. She just wants to make a move on Natasha, this is a ton of bullshit. You press your nails into your hand. You smile politely and say a simple thank you. Not wanting to cause a scene and give Natasha more of a reason to leave you.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. And counteract the chemistry. And undo the destiny.

Her hand reaches for my shoulder, to stop me from leaving. "That won't work anymore, Natasha. I'm calling Wanda. She offered to help me get an apartment." You spewed out, reaching for the door. It hurt. You no longer called her Natty, the sweet nickname you had gave her when your relationship was in an earlier stage. A simpler stage where you didn't have to question if she wanted to be with you.

You slammed the door behind you, goodbye Natasha.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

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whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan · 1 year

Text

🌜 Sweetheart, having a big nose isn’t a bad thing. In fact, most people prefer it… 🌛

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Fluffy smut / smutty fluff

✎ Summary: Chan feels insecure after commenters discuss his nose. You show him the benefits.

✎ CW: Oral sex, face riding, established relationship, body insecurities.

✎ Word count: 1,542

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Pop pop pop pop ping!

The tiny noises coming from your phone indicate that you’ve won another level of ball crusher, or whatever it’s called. The game you obsess about this week after being accosted by ads and finally giving in.

Chan’s doing a livestream, leaving you alone in his room looking for ways to pass the time. You watched the first half of his live, but tried to distract yourself in other ways once it got a little boring.

You’ve stared at the ceiling, laid on your side to observe the posters on his walls, and finally settled on your stomach, facing the end of the bed and supporting yourself with your elbows.

Pop pop pop pop waahhh!

Welp, you lost this round. You don’t have time to restart because the bedroom doorknob twists and the door swings open forcefully, revealing your boyfriend’s large frame in the doorway.

“Hey,” he says, taking a few steps into the room and shutting the door behind him. He shuffles over and sits at the end of the bed. You can tell he seems down.

“Hey, honey, what’s up?” you ask, shifting your weight so you can reach up and rub his back.

“It’s nothing. I mean, it’s not but…” he trails off, but you give him the time he needs to express his thoughts. Then he sighs before he speaks again.

“It’s my nose.”

“Your nose?”

“Yeah, a lot of people pointed out how big it is, and they’re not wrong. It is big,” he says. “But sometimes… I don’t know. Just something that hits me every now and then.”

“Baby, your nose is perfect,” you reassure and push your body up to sit next to him. “It suits your face and it’s proportionate and honestly… it’s just a really great nose, Channie.”

He chuckles, but still seems stuck in his head. He’s staring down at his hands clasped together between his legs.

“Of course you would say that, you’re you,” he replies. “And your nose is so small and so cute.”

He reaches out and boops the tip of your nose, and you catch his long fingers in yours.

“Small doesn’t equal good,” you say, changing your grip to hold his hand. “Sweetheart, having a big nose isn’t a bad thing. In fact, most people prefer it.”

“No they don’t,” he protests. “It’s fine if you like my nose, but you don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying! You’re not thinking of the benefits, look,” you say, lifting your other hand to his perfect face, running your thumb over his chin and cheeks and nose. He was sculpted by gods, you’re sure of it.

“There’s more surface area on your face for me to touch, so technically more to love,” you argue as you caress his face, leaning in to give him a quick peck on his nose.

“And when we kiss…” you continue, tilting your head to the side to better access his full lips, “we can rub noses a little bit, which is so sweet and nice.”

You kiss him deeply, holding his head with your thumb just under his ear, fingers buried in his thick hair. He kisses you back, but the rest of him is still.

You pull back and slowly turn your head left and right, brushing your noses together. You see a soft smile form on his lips and he lightly squeezes your hand that’s still holding his.

“You’re sweet, but…” he starts, but you interrupt.

“Excuse me, I wasn’t finished.”

His eyes widen and the corners of his lips pull up into a smirk before he replies, “Oh, yes, of course. Sorry ma’am, please go ahead.”

“Thank you,” you say. “Rude ass mother…”

“What was that?” Chan asks playfully.

“Nothing, nevermind,” you reply with a wink. “But as I was saying before I was interrupted, noses are also great to ride.”

“Ride?”

“Yes, ride.”

“Oh, really? Is that so?”

“Mhm, it’s true,” you answer, using your thumb to rub the back of his hand in your lap. “Having a big nose is like having a bike seat cushion with, like, uhhhh… a bump? Like a nice, hard bump.”

Your beautiful boyfriend’s eyes narrow at you, and he tilts his head to the side.

“But why would you want a bump on your seat?” he asks, trying his best to feign ignorance — even though he let go of your hand and started rubbing your thigh slowly, teasingly.

“Well, because bumps can feel good when they’re pushing on the right spot, does that make sense?” you say.

“Hmmm, not really. Could you maybe show me? Just for informational purposes,” he reassures, dipping his hand further down to feel the warmth between your inner thighs.

“Yes, of course. For research.”

In one quick motion, he rotates his torso and pushes your shoulders down onto the bed. His mouth eagerly meets yours and he tastes like pineapple juice and it’s making you dizzy. But you manage to push him back.

“Hey, slow down. Gotta save those pretty lips for research,” you remind him.

“Why put it off then?” he says, getting a firm grip behind your knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed and kneeling between your legs on the floor.

“Lift your hips for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told and he easily slides your shorts and underwear down. He signals you to sit again with a tap on your hipbone then he lifts your lower legs to throw the garments to the floor.

Suddenly, his playful confidence fades away and he stares at your pussy like he’s doing math in his mind, calculating what should go where and how much and when. He tilts his head to the left, then up a little, back down, to the other side. He’s used his nose before, but probably not intentionally, and he wants to do his best this time.

The sound of your soft giggles drags his attention back to your face, and the stress lines on his finally smooth out.

“Sorry, I just…” he starts, trailing off as he gets overwhelmed and distracted again.

“It’s ok, here, I got you,” you comfort him as you stand and grab his hand to guide him around his side of the bed. Your palms gently press on his strong shoulders, guiding him down onto the soft comforter. He lies flat on his back and you climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

He reaches up to stroke your face, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“I love you, you know?” he says, his dark chocolate eyes full of adoration.

“I know, baby,” you beam back at him and plant a quick kiss on his nose. “You ready?”

“Ride away.”

On all fours, you crawl up the bed until your knees rest on opposite sides of Chan’s head. You shimmy your heels under his shoulders, looking down to make sure he’s comfy before settling in. He’s still smiling up at you like you’re the actual sun keeping him warm and happy and alive — it sends shivers down your spine.

You slowly lower your hips down, angling your pussy toward his face. One slight adjustment, then his mouth is on you and your clit sits right beneath his nose. Perfect.

He lightly grips your ass with one hand and bends his arm to hold your thigh in the other as he starts licking and sucking your folds. His warm, rough tongue flicks and drags and his pillowy lips suck and his teeth bite down gently and his hands caress and massage in a way that has you absolutely melting into his mouth.

Then his grip gets more forceful and he pulls your hips toward him, angling his chin down to get his nose closer. You close the distance and rotate so it’s less mouth, more nose. And oh god, is it good.

His wide bridge settles under your clit and his tongue goes back to work pushing into you as far as he can, then dipping back out.

“Channie…” you moan, running your fingers through his messy hair.

You instinctually start to move your hips back and forward, up and down. Just enough to get some friction without losing contact. He’s following your movements with his soft mouth and hard cartilage, loving eyes still focused on your face.

Your breath quickens and your hips move unsteadily as you get closer and closer. Chan focuses his attention on your clit, extending his neck to press into you as much as he possibly can. He rubs and steadies your shaking thighs, staring at you with those big, beautiful eyes that just scream come for me.

And you do.

You’re a shuddering, moaning mess, grasping at his hair for some control over the pure elation you feel. You pull him as close to you as you can, seeing if you can somehow keep him and this sensation right here forever.

You come back down from your high with a heavy sigh and plop your body down next to your boyfriend.

“Good?” he asks.

“Great…” you answer. “I told you, great nose. Amazing nose. Perfect nose.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says, blushing. “I guess you may be right.”

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megalony · 3 months

Text

C-section

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine that was requested as a sort of spin off to my Eddie fic 'He Choked' but it can be read as a stand alone. I hope you all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream

911 Masterlist

He Choked

Summary: Things don't go quite to plan with the birth of their second child. but their new family of four is perfect.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mum!"

A deep, rumbling breath pushed past (Y/n)'s lips as she leaned her weight onto the back of the sofa and tried to straighten up again. Turning on her heels, (Y/n) slowly left the living room and braced herself on the wall to stay upright. Her bare feet shuffled along the laminate flooring that felt like she was walking across an iced lake.

Her nails scratched into the doorframe when she reached the bathroom and peered around the door. The burning feeling igniting in her abdomen died down a little when she peered around the door and her eyes locked with Chris. Her boy was sat in the bath, a wide grin on his face and about four small, plastic cups floating around in the bubbles with him.

"Are you finally finished?" She tried to force herself to smile but the constant twinges rolling through her stomach made it hard to pretend.

Chris nodded his head and dropped the plastic cup in his hand when he watched his mum walk over to the bath.

For almost three hours now, (Y/n) had been feeling the start of labour pains and she felt horrid waiting around for her water to break. She had taken to pacing up and down the house while Eddie called Evan to see if he would be able to watch Chris for them and he got things ready for when they were ready to leave. They couldn't go down to the hospital until (Y/n)'s waters broke and labour was in full swing.

(Y/n) had been under the impression that since this was her second pregnancy, labour might be the tiniest bit faster. They had been in labour for two days with Chris before things finally started to speed up and then it went south with him getting stuck and not breathing.

They had been praying ever since they found out they were pregnant that this time things would go smoothly and nothing would happen to their second baby.

"Okay," She tried to keep herself smiling as she grabbed a towel from the rack and leaned over the bath. Usually (Y/n) would have knelt down beside the bath to play for a while but she couldn't sit still in this much pain without worrying Chris and he had been happy enough with Eddie popping in and out to keep an eye on him.

A quiet 'oh' left her lips when Chris wrangled his arms around her neck and started to giggle. She curved the towel around his middle and bit down on her lip, trying to brace her back and stay steady so she could lift him out the bath.

"Hey, cheeky. You know your mum can't be carrying you around right now. Come here,"

(Y/n) was grateful when she felt Eddie's hand on her lower back and when she set Chris down to his feet on the bath mat, she moved to Eddie could kneel in front of him. Chris looked between them with his thumb caught between his teeth and a grin on his face.

They hadn't told him that (Y/n) was in labour yet, all he knew was that soon, Buck would be round to pick him up for a sleepover. They didn't want to worry Chris or confuse him when he was stressed enough about soon having a baby brother or sister in the house.

(Y/n) kissed the top of Chris's head and squeezed Eddie's shoulder before she slowly waddled out of the room, using the wall as leverage to stay upright.

Her lips curved into a tense smile when she glanced around her bedroom. Eddie had found the hospital bag and already put it in the car, as well as grabbing a few things from around the room that they would need. All they needed now was for her water to break.

She moved towards the bed and leaned forward to press her forearms down into the mattress. Her lower back arched out and her knees bent down a little as she tried to relieve the tension rattling through her body in waves. (Y/n) tried to slow down her breaths and take deep intakes but it only made her head go fuzzy and her knees started to shake. Tilting her head down, (Y/n) kept her forehead against her arms on the bed and tucked her chin into her chest. Groaning deeply when a particular pain tore through her stomach.

"Not long now," She whispered quietly to herself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra to stop herself from crying out or feel like she was going insane.

Her body jumped when she felt a hand on the small of her back and with her head tilted down onto her arms, a shiver bolted down her spine when Eddie kissed her exposed neck. His hands moved to cup her hips and his lips stayed against her neck.

"How are you doing, mi amor?" His words made her neck tingle and his voice was oddly quiet yet deep.

"I'm-" Closing her eyes, (Y/n) bit down on her lip and smothered a scream into the mattress.

Eddie's arms moved to curve round her stomach and he kissed the spot just behind her ear, keeping tight hold of her just in case her knees gave way. He didn't want her dropping down on her knees and hurting herself or not being able to get back up.

"I forgot h-how much this hurts," (Y/n) almost laughed as she bent her knees forward and switched her weight from foot to foot to distract herself.

They had Chris eight years ago and while the memory of that day was burned into the back of (Y/n)'s mind, the pain had long since been forgotten. The last two hours of Chris's birth, (Y/n) couldn't remember being in pain. All she could remember was the blood, Eddie's panicked face. Chris getting stuck. Then the nurse cradling him while he didn't breathe for fourteen seconds.

Tears burned in her eyes at the memory she wished she could forget. (Y/n) didn't want that to happen this time. She wanted a smooth run this time around, easy going, relaxed, no panic or unnecessary pain and no fear that they might lose their baby.

"Come here," Eddie's voice tickled the shell of (Y/n)'s ear and he gently reeled (Y/n) up off the bed and turned her until she was leaning into his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of her head while her hands scrunched up in his shirt, almost tearing through the thin cotton.

"Oh!"

Leaning his head back, Eddie tightened his hands on (Y/n)'s waist when she slipped down against his chest. But when his eyes quickly did a sweep up and down his wife to see what was wrong, his lips curved up and a breathless laugh rumbled deep in his chest.

"Finally," He whispered quietly before his lips pressed to the top of her head and his fingers dug deeper into her waist. Her waters had broken.

Now they could go to hospital.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) rested her temple on Eddie’s shoulder, relaxing when she felt his lips press to the top of her head. He slowly swayed the pair of them side to side as if they were in the middle of a dance floor instead of a hospital room. And his hands danced up and down her hips, squeezing every now and then like he was reminding her he was still here.

She didn't like this part.

Waiting around felt like they were waiting for tomorrow to arrive, something that never happened.

The morning had been spent in agony, aimlessly walking round the house waiting for her waters to break. Now they were waiting again for her body to decide it was ready to push. (Y/n) wanted to skip this part, to fast forward time and be at the end where she would be laid with a baby in her arms. But then again, she couldn't bring herself to wish for that in case something was going to go wrong.

Labour still seemed to be taking a while and (Y/n) was growing tired and restless. She didn't know what to do with herself. Sitting on the bed made her feel tense and numb but she didn't have much energy to walk around the room anymore. Eddie had paced the room with her in his arms and her nails puncturing into his arms but now (Y/n) couldn't find the will to move.

But she felt better when she was standing and right now, being held up in Eddie's arms like this felt comforting. Her back wasn't aching as much, her mind was cloudy but calm and she could handle the pains better when she was stood like this. It was very relaxing and almost hypnotising.

“Do you wanna sit down?” Eddie mumbled against her hair quietly and closed his eyes as he started to rub his hand up and down her back. His other hand stayed curled around her hip and he smiled into her hair when he felt her fingers push into his biceps. She nuzzled her face into his chest, tickling her nose against him and when she pushed her cheek into his shirt, Eddie grinned down into her hair and squeezed her tight.

This was much calmer than when Chris had been born. Eddie had only just got home from his stint in the army and Chris had been a month early. They didn't quite know what to expect and had been panicking right up until things went wrong, then everything only got worse.

“Not yet.” (Y/n) responded quietly, not bothering to open her eyes. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent as she tried to keep her mind focused but if another contraction didn't hit her soon, (Y/n) knew she might just fall asleep standing up. Especially since Eddie was holding up all of her weight as if she were a doll in his arms.

"Okay mi amor,"

Eddie wanted this to go as smooth as possible, he wanted his wife in far less pain this time around and no danger coming to their second child. And he was becoming restless. He wanted his baby in his arms, cuddled up into his chest already. He missed those nights when Chris was a newborn and he laid all night with his baby boy curled up on his chest.

He wanted them in his arms now.

(Y/n) kept her arms loosely locked around Eddie’s neck as he started to sway them again. She knew she wasn’t going to go to sleep, she was in too much discomfort for her brain to turn off and she was too anxious about whether this time would go smoothly or not. But she had to admit that being with her husband like this in silence was comforting and very relaxing.

Just as Eddie found himself forgetting where he was, he was brought back to reality when (Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck. Her lower back arched out as she turned her head so her temple was pressing into his chest.

“Mi amor, you okay?” He mumbled, his eyes drifting between (Y/n) and the door when a midwife walked through.

"T-that was a big one," (Y/n) whimpered as she brushed her thumb up and down the back of Eddie's neck to try and distract herself from the pain that wasn't stopping. It felt like she could feel each muscle tearing itself apart and contorting into odd shapes to make room for the baby. It was a horrid feeling she had long forgotten.

Eddie knew the more contractions (Y/n) had and the closer they were together, the sooner he would meet his baby.

"Shall we get you on the bed and see how you're doing?" The midwife commented as she walked over to the pair of them.

Her hands hovered near (Y/n)'s hips just in case she was needed but Eddie had it all under control. He slowly backed up towards the bed and shuffled round, easing (Y/n) down until she could feel the bed pushing into the back of her knees. Her arms stayed hooked around his neck even when he got her sat down and he had to stoop over her.

He moved so he was stood between her legs with his hands still on her hips and he kissed her temple lovingly.

"Eddie," She groaned his name, tightening her arms around his neck when he tried to take a step back. If she could have, she would have hooked her legs around his hips to reel him into her. She could feel his lips curving against her temple and his thumbs brushed up and down her waist before he gave her a squeeze.

(Y/n) wanted him as close as she could get him and more so. He had to be right next to her, he had to be touching her somehow. (Y/n) wanted to feel his breaths mingling with hers and his touch on her skin.

"I'm still here," He whispered against her skin as he pulled out of her grasp and moved to stand at her side instead. He leaned his hip against the side of the bed and curved one arm around her shoulders while the other hand held out in front of her so she could give his hand a very tight squeeze.

She said nothing as the midwife put a heartbeat monitoring clip on her finger and two more to her stomach to monitor the baby’s heartbeat. She tipped her head back into the pillows and smiled when she felt Eddie bring the back of her hand to his lips.

"I'd say you're fully dilated now. You can begin to push on the next contraction," The midwife stated kindly, seeing the relief on both their faces at finally getting closer to meeting their next baby.

Silence fell over the three of them for a few minutes as they waited for the next contraction to hit. Eddie tipped his head down, pressing his lips to (Y/n)’s arm as they waited, his hands holding hers tightly. When the next contraction came, (Y/n) pushed and leaned herself forward, crying out through the pain until one of the monitors started to beep. Both her and Eddie turned to look at the screen, wanting to know whose heart was now in distress and (Y/n) thought for a moment it was her own heart. She could feel her pulse thudding in her ears and her heart was going rather fast.

But it wasn’t her heart, it was the baby’s.

“What’s happening?” (Y/n) leaned her head onto Eddie's chest when he crouched over her, tightening his arm around her shoulders while he kissed her temple. He curled around her like a protective blanket but his eyes remained on the monitor that showed their baby's heartbeat was starting to slow down.

“Baby is just a bit stressed, that's all. The heartbeat should stabilise in a minute.” The midwife responded as she watched the monitor showing the baby’s heartbeat and waited for it to pick back up. All of them sighed in utter relief when it started to mellow out and go back to the rhythmic beat it had been a moment ago.

A burning scream tore from the back of (Y/n)'s throat when another contraction burned through her stomach. She tugged on Eddie's hand, pulling him even closer until his chin was perched on her shoulder and he was kissing the junction between her shoulder and neck.

"Let's try another push,"

Eddie felt delightedly relieved that the monitor didn't scream out this time, the baby seemed stable when (Y/n) started to push again. Maybe the baby had been surprised that they were about to be evicted and come out into the world.

(Y/n) cried out when another contraction hit and pushed to sit forward with her chin tucked down into her chest and her knees as close to her stomach as she could manage. But her eyes snapped open and she started to shake when the monitor started to scream again.

Her body burned as she cried, pushing back into Eddie who sat down on the edge of the bed and curled both arms around her to try and calm her down. (Y/n) sucked in a few trembling breaths but more tears flushed her face when the baby's heartbeat kept getting lower.

"I think labour is significantly distressing baby and since you're not quite crowning yet, I'm going to fetch a doctor. We need to take you for a C-section to get baby out as soon as possible."

The midwife patted (Y/n)'s thigh but her eyes locked with Eddie when (Y/n) screamed. She was silently asking if he would be alright for her to step out of the room and find help and Eddie nodded. He could look after (Y/n), he could calm her down.

"No, Eddie, no…"

Sobs bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and both her hands moved to grip Eddie's bicep that curved around her chest just beneath her collar bone. His hand gripped her shoulder soothingly and he didn't mind her nails puncturing down into his arm. He kept his other arm around her waist and slowly rubbed his palm over her stomach.

"Shh, baby it's okay." Eddie slowly started to sway them from side to side, kissing the side of her head when (Y/n) smothered her face into his bicep and screamed, sending shivers up and down his arm. He could see and feel the way her heels were digging into the mattress and she was pushing back into him, desperate to stop herself from pushing and distressing their baby even more.

"It's h-happening again," (Y/n) wailed into his arm, dangerously close to biting his skin as she felt like Chris when his routines changed and he went into a meltdown.

"No, no it's not. We didn't get a C-section last time, that would have solved everything. We're getting one this time, and you'll both be fine. Come on, deep breaths. I'm not going anywhere and in an hour it'll all be over."

Chris had been born breached and right at the end, he became stuck. A C-section would have helped them, if they realised Chris was distressed earlier, they could have had him through the operation and he wouldn't have suffocated or gotten lasting damage.

They weren't going to have any of that this time around. They knew their baby was starting to struggle and they were going to have an operation to get them out safely. This is just what they needed, this was their lucky break. No chance of history repeating itself, no chance of having another child stuck, suffocating and potentially dying without anyone being able to do anything to help.

"It's alright, sweet girl, it's alright."

***

A tender smile flooded (Y/n)'s when she turned her head and looked across at the far end of the bed. Chris was sat snuggled between the pillows, both arms cocooning his blanket to his chest, but he wasn't looking at the tv or even at (Y/n). He was staring at Rosie.

His head was tilted at an angle and his lips were slightly parted as he stared at his baby sister with a look of wonder on his face.

"She's crying," He whispered quietly before he flopped down on the pillows on his stomach and stretched an arm out towards her. He placed his palm down on her stomach and started to rub her tummy, smiling until Rosie started to bat her hands and kick her legs up. Then his smile faded and he went back to staring at her like she was an enigma he couldn't solve.

"I think she's hungry, shall we go make lunch?"

When Chris nodded, (Y/n) clicked her spine into place and slowly pushed up from the bed. It was hard to control her smile so it didn't contort into a wince and give away the sudden pain she felt when she stood up.

Her upper chest coiled over and she stood, stooped over at an angle so her back wasn't straight. It had been two weeks since she'd had Rosie and so far, she couldn't straighten up yet. Standing straight made her stomach stretch and with a line of stitches across her lower abdomen, that became physically impossible to stay upright. (Y/n) felt as if they had stitched far too much of her skin together and now there wasn't enough to let her stand tall.

Lifting anything was impossible unless it was as light as a shirt or it happened to be Rosie. If (Y/n) wanted to do the washing, she had to ask one of the boys to take it to the kitchen for her. She could only bathe Rosie in the sink because she couldn't get back up from the floor if she knelt down beside the bath, which meant she couldn't do bath time for Chris either at the moment.

All (Y/n) wanted to do was stay in bed. And it didn't help that both Chris and Eddie were practically forcing her to stay in bed when they laid with her. (Y/n) was used to being up and active and moving about but now she had little energy left and her body wasn't healing as fast as she wanted. She was supposed to keep moving around because she was at risk of blood clots after her operation.

When she had Chris, the first week had been spent in hospital with how badly his birth had gone. But once they were both home, (Y/n) had a new lease of energy. She had no problems doing the house work with Chris in one arm and she was forever walking round to the park or to Eddie's parent's house when they lived in Texas.

This time it was different.

She leaned over the crib attached to the side of the bed and slowly eased Rosie up into her arms. She shifted the newborn into the crook of her right arm and held her against her chest, a few inches higher than her stitches so she didn't aggravate them.

"Why she not in her room?" Chris threw his blanket off his legs and left it splayed out on the end of the bed as he shuffled off the bed onto his feet. He swung the door open and headed out into the hallway, waiting for (Y/n) to catch him up before he continued on his way towards the kitchen.

His eyes lingered on Rosie's room as they passed it and he reached out to touch the wooden door sign that had his sister's name in italics and a painted rose above it.

"She stays with me and daddy for now, she wakes up a lot in the night so this is easier. You used to be in our room when you were a baby."

It had unsettled Chris a lot the first night they brought Rosie home and he realised she wasn't going to be in her own room. He felt cheated, he had to sleep in his own bed unless he had a nightmare, then if he sneaked into his parent's room they wouldn't question it. But Rosie wasn't sleeping in her cot in the nursery and it made him feel like he was missing out on something, as if they were having movie nights with Rosie but not him.

(Y/n) followed Chris into the kitchen, dragging her feet beneath her rather than lifting them up. She was relieved when they got to the kitchen that she could lean her left elbow on the counter and slouch forward so she didn't have to stand hunched over like she had a curved spine.

"Mummy,"

Her eyes cast down to Chris just as she grabbed one of Rosie's bottles and turned the kettle on. He had his arms stretched up towards her and he patted his palm against the counter to show what he wanted. He wanted her to lift him up onto the kitchen side.

When they made dinner, Chris loved to sit on the side so he could reach up into the cupboards easier and help cook, especially when Eddie was in the kitchen because he knew his dad wasn't the best cook in the world.

"I can't lift you up baby, use the steps," She tilted her head towards the set of steps in the corner that he could drag across and either stand on and lean over or use to climb up onto the counter himself.

His shoulders slumped and he frowned, huffing before he tried again and reached his arms up towards her.

"Why?"

"I've got a bad tummy, baby… but I think your dad's finished in the shower, he can lift you up." (Y/n) tilted her head back to lean around the corner when she heard the bathroom door open. Eddie had been to the gym this morning and the first thing he did when he came home was jump in the shower. Now he had a while off work, he could go to his usual gym and not just get a quick practice at the station gym.

"What are we making?" Eddie stretched an arm up behind him and scratched the back of his head, ruffling his damp hair that was already starting to crimp and form into waves. His nose crinkled as he smiled and padded bare foot into the kitchen, wearing a pair of loose jogging bottoms and a vest.

It was nice to wear something casual instead of the usual starched button up uniform and the plated boots and a thick overall jacket that made him sweat in the LA heat.

When Chris muttered a quick 'omelette', Eddie nodded while he rolled his eyes when his boy stretched his arms out towards him. He easily lifted Chris up and perched him on the countertop, cracking a few eggs into a bowl so Chris could whisk them up and add cheese. The only kind of omelette Chris would eat was a cheese one, he wouldn't put anything else in it, no salt or pepper, no ham, mushrooms. Nothing.

Eddie started pouring some drinks but when his eyes drifted across to (Y/n), his lips rolled together and he arched a brow. He turned so he was facing her, pressing his hip against the counter while he raked his eyes up and down, watching the unease roll off her in waves.

She had Rosie in her right arm which was leant on the counter, her bum and lower back were arched out so she could slump forward and she had her head hung low. While her left hand slowly shook the bottle to mix the powder and warm water. (Y/n) looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up and the discomfort was clearly written across her face.

"Alright, I think it's my turn." Eddie stepped closer until his chest moulded up into (Y/n)'s side and he held his arms out, brushing his thumb against Rosie's cheek while he waited to take her.

"I have to feed her-"

"I can do that while my head chef is making dinner," He waved a hand behind him towards Chris who lifted his chin high and grinned, waiting for one of them to find him a frying pan so he could pour in the mixture. "Go sit down, please."

(Y/n) pressed her lips together but nodded nonetheless. Her arms shifted towards Eddie and she let him ease Rosie into his arms, grinning as he cooed down at her. She liked the way Rosie looked so small when she was in Eddie's arms, she looked like a doll even when she was wriggling and bashing a hand against her nose while she whimpered impatiently. Tucked into the crook of Eddie's elbow, his bicep engulfed her and made her look miniscule.

He kept Rosie in his left arm while he bent down and found a pan in the cupboard and set it up for Chris who now had a ladle in his hand and a bowl of mixed eggs that were completely engulfed in cheese.

Turning around, Eddie leaned his hips back into the counter next to Chris and kept a look over his shoulder while he began feeding Rosie her bottle. His lips curved into a smile and he leaned his head down to the right when he felt (Y/n)'s arms wrap around his torso. She was still hunched over but now she had her face pressed into his bicep and he could feel her butterfly kisses soaking into his arm, making him shiver.

"I told you to go sit down," He whispered quietly into her hair, instantly feeling the way she grinned into his arm.

"And leave you in charge of dinner?" When she felt a growl rumble within his chest, (Y/n) kissed his arm and tightened her arms around his torso. "I'll sit down in a minute,"

"Hm. That's what I thought you said."

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #imagine #911 imagine #pregnant! reader #pregnancy

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teddyeyeseddie · 10 months

Text

The Cherrywood Motel

rockstar!eddie x reader

warnings: drug use, general rockstar lifestyle

(a/n- rockstar eddie? housekeeper reader? sign me up! thank you @lofaewrites for looking this over for me, my beta forever ✨ I have two more parts for this, it may be longer we shall see!)

masterlist

The smell of bleach invades your nostrils as you push through the laundry room of The Cherrywood Motel. Your uniform skims across your thighs, the baby blue ribbon cinching your waist flowing easily behind you. You run into a few co-workers, older ladies that have worked for the family for years. Each woman bids you a soft good morning as you collect the linens you would be needing for the day.

You load up your cart and push out into the cold crisp fall. It’s nearing 10 o’clock, checkout time coming in a hurry as you watch the parking lot before you fill with guests packing their cars to leave.

You push to your first room when the clock hits 10:15. You’d given the occupants more than enough time to leave, so you’re not really worried about bothering a guest.

You knock several times on the door, no answer coming from the other side. You knock once more, just to be sure. Silence. You take out your key and begin opening the door when suddenly it swings open.

On the opposite side of the door stands a tall, lean, beautiful man. He has inky black tattoos creeping up his arms, the dark contrast on the skin drawing your eyes to anywhere and everywhere on the man’s body.

“It’s’ 10 o’clock, what do you want, sweets?” The man groans as he holds back the long brown hairs that have slipped from the bun resting atop his head.

“S’ actually time to check out?” you say as if its a question, the man's eyes widen comically as he rushes back inside. He closes the door in your face but returns moments later with a shirt on and clunky Dr. Martens on his feet.

“Came in so fucked last night I must’ve only paid for one night,” he mumbles to himself as he makes his way back to the main office to settle his predicament.

You’re left in a daze, the beautiful man leaving a lingering tingle in your heart. He was just so pretty.

You were used to pretty men but not pretty like this man. You lived in a small town outside of Nashville, too many wannabe cowboys and country stars for your taste. You’d managed to meet a few nice men in your small town, but nothing that ever stuck. But he, he stuck with you. You remember his big brown eyes, smudged with eyeliner, his tattooed abdomen, his impossibly long fingers and even the way he smelled. It left you speechless outside of your next room, eyes scanning the expanse between his room and the office.

Just as you’re about to peek into the motel room, you see him walk out of the office. He flashes you a smile and holds something up in his hands. You squint and see it's a pair of keys, you squint a little harder and notice the unfamiliar yellow keychain adorning the set. You send him back a smile and continue with your work, making the beds in the muggy room, scrubbing toilets and leaving complimentary soaps on each pillow.

It wasn’t glamorous work, you weren’t exactly busting at the seams when someone asked you what you did for a living. But, it paid your bills and paid them well.

You mindlessly hum to the radio as you finish up mopping the bathroom in your final room of the day. You carefully fold up the extra towels once you're finished mopping. You wipe your hands off on the skirt of your uniform before rolling up the cord to your vacuum. You place everything back on your cart, rolling it down past the man’s old room which now lay empty.

You park your cart and make your way to the breakroom, pushing inside and plopping down across from your co-worker, Christa.

“Can you believe Eddie Munson is here?” You cock your head to the side, confusion evident on your face as you look at your friend. You get up from your place at the table, walking to the vending machine and admiring your choices as Christa drones on.

“You know Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson? Dropped out of highschool to form the most metal band of the century? Does that ring any bells?” She questions as she watches you fish dimes out of the pocket of your skirt.

“I listen to Bowie and Kate Bush, I dont think I’m the one to be asking about metal,” you respond, pushing the coins into the machine and mindlessly punching in the number you always do. A-3.

“He’s got like, gorgeous long brown hair? Loads of tattoos?” she continues to pry, she knows you’re familiar when your cheeks burn red.

“AHA! You do know who I’m talking about!” she yells, rushing you to sit back down so she can hear all about it.

You throw your treat on the table before you and take your seat back across from Christa.

“I uh- woke him up this morning,” you state, a little shy to be talking about a customer so freely.

“He answered the door all confused. He wanted to know why I was waking him up at 10 and I told him it was time to check out. So he freaks and rushes to the office after getting dressed. Nothing really special,” you shrug your shoulders as you play with the wrapper of the Hostess cupcake in front of you.

Christa shrieks at your words, fanning herself as she imagines herself in your shoes.

“So he was shirtless?” she questions. You offer her a small nod. She squeals even louder, an older lady who works in the laundry rooming shushing you two as she microwaves her dinner.

“I saw him again, after that,” you state matter of factly.

“He had a new key, had a yellow keychain?” you open the dessert in your hand and take a bite.

“Yellow?” Christa Questions. You nod as you chew, Christmas mouth dropping as you confirm her question.

“That's the long term room,”

You leave the break room that evening with your mind whirling, surely he only wanted the room for the additional features. There was no way Eddie Munson would stay at The Cherrywood for that long.

You’re walking to your car that is parked behind the office, shuffling with your keys. You spot a small ember to your right, you turn your head towards the source of the light and see Eddie Munson staring at you, his face lit by the Camel he is smoking. He gives you a small salute as you slip into your car, you only offer him a shy smile in return.

You drive home that night with the smell of cigarettes lingering on your clothes, your mind swooning at the imagine of his stubbly face lit by a cig. You toss and turn that night in your small apartment, the image of those brown eyes bore into your mind every time you tried to close your eyes.

The next morning you sneak into the main office where the small continental breakfast is offered. You sneak past your boss to the coffee station, pouring yourself a heaping cup before turning to walk to the sugar station. As you’re turning around, you collide with a firm body, expletives fly as does the coffee in your hand, sending it straight down your uniform, warm liquid causing your thin uniform skirt to cling to your stomach and thighs.

“Shit- m sorry sweets,” the man you now know at Eddie kindly offers, “Wasn’t even payin attention,” You look up at him, frowning when you see his beautiful brown eyes are hidden by dark round frames.

“Probably cause of these,” You mumble as you reach your hand up to take the glasses off his face. You’re met with those brown eyes that filled your dreams the night prior. There’s still eyeliner smudged under his eyes, the dark presence bringing out the golden flecks in his eyes. You frown when you really begin to study his face, his nose is dry and cracked, the skin around the nostril irritated and puffy. His eyes are rimmed red, like a permanent kiss of tears. His hair disheveled and heaping on top of his head.

Eddie’s heart pangs when he sees you recoil at the sight of him, he averts his eyes and reaches for his glasses. You snatch your hand away, looking up at him.

“S’ just you're too pretty for that, Eddie,” You fold the glasses up in your hand before gently placing them in the palm of Eddie’s, you turn on your heels and rush to your first clean of the day, successfully locking yourself in the room before Eddie can find you.

Eddie curses to himself when he watches you walk, no run away. You leave him there bewildered, not quite sure what to do. He wanted to run and explain that he’s trying, trying to be better. He wants to tell you it was just one line but everyone who knows him knows that’s bullshit. One line is never one line with Eddie Munson.

It’s one line, two lines, a random fuck, three lines, four lines, a broken chair, five lines a broken tv, 6 lines and somehow he wakes up naked in his guest bedroom. It's a shot for shot, line for line, cut throat kind of party when Eddie Munson is around.

But now, standing here, he has this itch inside him, one he has never even entertained scratching in his years to fame. This want to actually do better and this need to prove to you that this isn't the Eddie Munson the world cracks him out to be.

His second day there, he finds your cart and places an old Metallica t-shirt on your cart with a little note, “Sorry I dumped your coffee all over you :( xx”

You giggle at the sloppy handwriting, you smile when you see him across the courtyard of the small motel. He sends you a wink which causes you to blush furiously. He lets out a small chuckle at your obvious flustered demeanor. He tries to wave you over but you’re quick to scurry in another direction, off to another clean.

His third day there he stops at your cart when you’re leaving your last clean of the day.

“Hey uh- I need?” He trails off as he looks around your cart, eyes lighting up when he sees the extra complimentary soaps on your cart, “SOAP! I need more soap,”

You look at him quizzically, head cocking to the side as he lets out a nervous laugh. You simply reach for the soap and hand him some, smiling slightly when your hands touch.

“Names Eddie,” he says softly.

“I know,” You respond, eyes never meeting his as you walk away towards the breakroom.

His fourth day there he is bound to know your name, he even stops Christa to try and wiggle it out of her.

“She- she's really pretty?” Christa’s eyebrows raise, knowing exactly who he is talking about.

“She always wears little white keds, with the ruffle socks?” Christa nods, crossing her arms over her chest as she weighs the benefits of revealing any information to Eddie.

“I just wanna know her name..” he mumbles, pleading eyes looking down at her.

“Think she’s gonna have to tell you that one,” Christa pats his thigh before heading to her car, she bids Eddie a soft goodnight and drives away, leaving him alone and wondering all about who you are.

His fifth day there, you’re standing in the middle of the office, suitcases all around you. You’re flustered and upset talking to your boss.

He’s watching from the outside, sitting by his door smoking a cigarette. Your boss rounds the counter, grabbing some of the bags before leading you to the room next to Eddie’s, the other long-term stay.

You pass by him without a word, your boss simply offering him a nod of his head as he passes him. Your boss lets you into the room, giving you a quick hug assuring you everything would be okay.

Your eyes meet Eddie’s as you go to shut the door, he offers you a small smile that you softly return but shut the door quickly so as to not start any conversation. You were over the night and you dont think your poor brain could handle another dose of being rewired by Eddie Munson.

Your apartment had flooded, ruining much of the furniture you owned but sparing your more beloved pieces. Your boss agreed to let you stay in the other long-term as long as you were willing to help extra in the laundry room in the mornings. You agreed, thankful you had such a wonderful work family around you.

You unpack your bags slowly, the night wearing on you. You check the clock and see that it is nearing 1am. Your boss has given you the day off tomorrow so you were excited to get to sleep in. As you lay your head on the pillow you hear a soft voice bleeding through the wall behind your head.

“Her eyes and words are so icy

Oh but she burns, like rum on the fire

Hot and fast and angry as she can be

I walk my days on a wire”

You hear the same words over and over, different inflections and notes flooding through the walls. If it was anyone else, it’d drive you crazy. But knowing it’s Eddie, it makes your heart skip a beat. You feel like he’s there, singing just for you, putting on a show for you that no one else can see or hear.

You fall asleep like that, the perfected verse softly bleeding into the room, the twang of guitar accompanying the words comforting you.

You wake the next morning with a crick in your neck, you slowly roll out of bed heading towards the shower in hopes the heat will soothe your aching muscles. You hop in as soon as it is warm enough, letting the water aid the painkillers you had just taken. Once you’re through with your shower, you slowly climb out and wrap a towel around your exposed body, heading back to the main room to get dressed for the day.

You settle for a soft skirt and Eddie’s Metallica shirt, you shove on your Keds and make your way out the door, shrieking immediately when you open the door to find Eddie Munson standing there.

“Shit! M’ sorry sweets.. Was just gonna knock and see if you wanted anything from town,” he soothes, hands coming to rest on your tense shoulders. Once you finally calm down a bit, you’re able to respond.

“Was just going to town myself,” you reply, smoothing out your skirt and looking down at the ground.

“I could take you?” he questions, eyes hopeful as they cast onto you. You switch your weight from foot to foot, contemplating the idea of being so close to Eddie for so long. You look back at his eyes, his usual unsure eyes filled with hope.

“O-okay but I’ll drive,” you respond, looking up at him, cheeks burning at the smirk that plays on his face.

“Sure thing sweets,” he rasps, turning to lock his door. He’s wearing baggy blue jeans, reebok sneakers and a shirt that barely rides up his tummy. His hair is pulled up on top of his head, bangs framing his face.

He follows you to your car, a baby blue ford fiesta. You loved your car, it was relatively new and oh so cute. Eddie smiles upon seeing it, whistling as he approaches the door.

“Mmm cute car for a cute girl,” he says with a grin, ducking into your car. He buckles his seatbelt, sniffling as he does so. Your heart breaks for a moment, knowing just what was going on.

You stay silent during the car ride, the odd sniffle breaking the silence here and there. You arrive at your local grocery store, turning your car off once you park. Eddie pushes his sunglasses up his nose, adjusting his bangs before exiting the car.

You round the car, making your way inside, Eddie right next to you the whole time. You browse the aisles looking for the things you need, stopping and picking up a treat here and there. You’re at checkout when you spot the Hostess cupcakes, your hand reaching out for a chocolate one but a hand is quicker than yours. Your hand meets the top of Eddies but you quickly pull it away when you feel the cold of his hands.

“Sorry-” you mumble as you place your items on the belt before you.

“S’ okay. Here,” he hands you a pack of cupcakes, smiling at you before grabbing another pack for himself.

You both buy your respective items, Eddie taking your paper bag, carrying one in both arms. He puts them in the back of your car, settling in next to you in the passenger seat.

“Listen- I know I’m kind of intimidating and I’m sure you’ve looked into who I am, but that's not really me…” he tries to offer. You stay silent before taking a deep breath in.

“E-eddie, I know people crack you up to be crazy and you haven’t shown me that. But..”

Eddie winces, preparing for what words come out of your mouth next.

“I- I can see it. In your eyes, some semblance of truth,” you stare up at him for a while, his hands coming to take off his sunglasses to reveal those beautiful red-rimmed eyes.

“S’ part of the lifestyle sweets,” he rasps, smirking but letting it fall when he sees how unamused you are.

“Doesn’t have to be..”

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie x you #Eddie x y/n #Eddie Munson fluff #rockstar!eddie Munson #rockstar eddie #rockstar eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfiction #teddy eyes writes 🧚🏻‍♂️✨#18+ fic

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noellawrites · 4 months

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Souvenir Part 2 - Yandere!Luca x reader

part one linked here

summary: someone pays you a surprise visit at The Bear’s friends and family night.

warnings: baby trapping mention, abortion mention, s2 finale spoilers

It was the night of The Bear’s soft opening and emotions were running high.

You were back to waitressing after having passed Luca’s pastry expertise to Marcus. You were just thankful to be back where you knew you belonged.

Too much time spent at the dessert station just made you think more about your time in Copenhagen and your little souvenir that has been growing inside of you for the last three months.

If you never saw Luca again, it would be too soon.

—

“Hands!” Tina yelled and you approached from behind her at lightning speed, reaching out and grabbing table twenty’s focaccia.

“Fire up three t-bones and four calamari!” Sydney’s voice echoed from behind you as you rushed through the doors and walked briskly towards the middle of the restaurant.

On your way back, Natalie gestured to you from her and Pete’s table.

“What’s up, Nat?” you asked, feeling your nerves being reflected in her expression.

“I have some news for you,” she grimaced, reaching her soft hand up to touch yours gently.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Richie, uh… may or may not have invited Luca tonight,” Sugar said, wincing at your reaction.

“W-what? But he’s in Copenhagen, that’s… that’s not possible!” you exclaimed, louder than you meant to.

It wasn’t enough that he had to force a baby into you, but now he had to come all the way to America to rub it all in? You wanted to throw up.

“If he shows up, I’m switching to back of house. I can’t handle seeing him right now,” you stated.

“I understand, (y/n). We’ll figure it out,” Sugar promised.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna fucking kill Richie.”

—

“Shit, there he is!” you hissed as you looked through the thin glass strip into the front of house.

“Oh shit, like, baby daddy Luca?” Sydney exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief.

You nodded, gnawing at your lip as you watched him being seated at the bar. He was already looking around, no doubt searching for you.

You decided to help Tina and take over Josh’s station, since he’d disappeared and Carmy was still stuck in the walk-in. Tina and Syd both knew what’d happened to you and had been nothing but supportive through it all.

As you were distracting yourself by prepping dishes for Tina, you heard the door swing open and hit the wall.

“I thought I’d find you here,” said a voice with a familiar British accent.

“Uh, sorry dude, you can’t be back here,” Sydney stated, pointing at the door and raising her eyebrows at Luca.

As much as you wanted to scream at him, you knew that making a scene would only make things worse.

“Outside,” you said, nodding your head towards the back door.

—

“You never answered my calls.”

“You baby trapped me!”

“You could’ve gotten an abortion.”

“I can’t afford one!”

“Oh, poor you,” he sneered.

You swallowed a sob as you stared into his cruel, intense eyes.

“Why are you acting like this? Why are you even here?” you sniffled.

“I wanted to watch Carmy fail, of course. And visiting you and the baby is an added bonus,” he said, then reached his tattooed hand out to cup your rounded belly over your apron.

“Don’t touch me!”

“(Y/n), come back with me. You won’t have to do grunt work for Carmy or live in that tiny apartment anymore. You and the baby could live with me and you could focus on raising them. And you can work in my restaurant if you miss waiting tables.”

“I never wanted this baby, Luca.” you sighed, shaking your head.

“But I did. I do. So let me take care of everything, yeah?” he said so gently, holding out his arms to you.

You were weak and needy and tired, and you let him hold you close just like he had done three months ago.

#the bear x reader #the bear luca x reader #luca the bear #pastry chef luca x reader #will poulter x reader #yandere the bear #yandere the bear x reader #yandere the bear

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mads-weasley · 2 years

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Little Hen

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

A/N: I'm obsessed...there's nothing left to say. I don't own any of these wonderful characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: Rooster takes his little hen to The Hard Deck to make memories like he did with his father

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, like your teeth are gone...

(y/n) - your name

(y/n/n) - your nickname

(y/h/c) - your hair color

(Y/n) sighed through the phone, stuck at work for another hour. "Bradley, are you sure it's a good idea to take her there? It is a bar after all."

"Yes, babe. Some of my favorite memories with my father were made at a bar."

She knew this meant a lot to him, especially how he lost his own father not long after those memories were made. He'd told her about his fear that he'd be killed before their daughter, Carole, even remembered him. She was now 4 and was just like he was as a kid.

She was adventurous, competitive, and most of all, a complete daddy's girl. The 4-year-old had Rooster Bradshaw wrapped around her tiny little finger. If she wanted a stuffed animal, he got it, and when she asked for a Hawaiian shirt to match him, (y/n) could've sworn she'd never seen him order something so fast.

Bradley had also formed the habit of calling Carole, "Little Hen" after her mom, whose callsign was Hen.

"Okay little hen," Rooster said getting her out of her car seat, "do you want to meet some of daddy's friends?"

She threw her little arms around his neck as he held her. "What about mommy? She's your friend."

He chuckled, swinging her around in a circle. "Mommy is my best friend, but I have other friends too."

"Whoa, Daddy. I'm dizzy." She announced, leaning far back away from him.

"Don't worry, hen, Daddy's got ya." With a content sigh and a bright smile, he kissed her cheek and opened the doors of The Hard Deck.

The room erupted into cheers when the pair walked in the doors. Jake, AKA Hangman, was the first to come over to the pair.

"Hangie!" She yelled, leaning towards him, her little arms extended.

Rooster handed her to Jake with a smile. "Hey, kid! Have you been listening to your mom and dad?"

She shook her head, glancing over at her dad, who was just watching the interaction. "Nope."

Jake burst into laughter, tickling her as she joined in with her own giggles. Rooster's heart was about to explode with love at the sight of his beautiful daughter. The only person missing from this moment was (y/n). She got caught up at work and couldn't join them for the movie night they had planned, so they decided to have a Rooster and Little hen night. He's brought out of his thoughts by Carole calling him.

"Daddy! Jake wants you to play!" she said, full of excitement.

With a sigh, he took off his aviators and gently placed them on her face as he walked towards the piano. The glasses were way too big on her, so they were slanted to one side, and they looked so cute. Bradley took her from Hangman and placed her on top of the piano. He stretched his hands slightly before playing.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain." he sang, looking goofily at Carole. "Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, oh what a thrill."

Carole somewhat knew this part, so she sang along with everyone else.

"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

Her laughter echoed across the bar, lifting everyone's spirits even more than her dad's playing did.

"I laughed at love cause I thought it was funny, you came along and you moved me, honey. I changed my mind, looking fine."

"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

Little did Rooster or his Little Hen know that (y/n) was leaning against the doorway, listening with tears in her eyes. They were the two most important people to her, and hearing them both so happy made her happy.

In the middle of the piano solo, she pushed off the wall and made her way over to the piano.

"Kiss me, baby." He sang

She came from behind him and planted a kiss right on his unsuspecting lips. Eyes widening in surprise, he turned and smiled when he saw who it was, continuing to sing.

"Woooo-ooooo...that feels good." He pulled her onto his lap haphazardly, making Carole laugh. "Hold me, baby."

By this point, he had completely turned away from the piano and towards his wife, muscle memory kicking in as he kissed her. "I wanna love you like a lover should. You're fine, so kind. Imma tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine-ine!"

With her mom's help, Carole jumped down off the piano and took a seat on Bradley's leg that (y/n) was not occupying. Smiling down at her, he continued to play.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I get nervous but it sure is fun." He turned to (y/n), singing against her lips, Come on, baby, you're driving me crazy," then turned to Carole for the grand finale.

"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!!" The group yelled in unison.

Bradley leaned down and dramatically kissed her on the cheek before kissing (y/n) lovingly. Carole jumped off his lap and ran in front of them.

"Daddy! That was awesome! Can we do it again?"

As Bradley sat with his wife in his arms and her head on his shoulder, watching their daughter have a moment of her own, he couldn't help but think of his dad. All his life, he just wanted to be like him, and his life looked very similar to how his did at Rooster's age. Knowing from experience that everything can change in a split second, he vows to take in every moment he has with his family.

Saying goodbye to their friends, Rooster looks over, noticing that his Little Hen is finally asleep in (y/n)'s arms. He looked over to Jake, smiling.

"Thanks for wearing her out, man. It sure saves Hen and me the trouble of finding a way to get her down."

"I'm just doing my wingman duties, sir." He mock salutes, giving Bradley a hug.

(Y/n) waves bye to everyone, careful not to wake up Carole, and walks out to Rooster's car. He's not too far behind them. Approaching the car, he hugs (y/n) from behind, nuzzling his head into her neck once their Little Hen is in her car seat.

"I love you," he murmured into her neck.

She placed her hands on his that rested on her waist. "I love you too, Roost, but where is this coming from?"

"You're such an amazing mom, (y/n/n)."

"And you're an even better dad. Your dad would be so proud of you, Bradley."

Turning around in his arms, she engulfed him in a hug that he gratefully returned as a tear slipped down his cheek. When they pulled away, (y/n) wiped the tear away, giving him a sloppy kiss. She leaned into the car and kissed Carole on the forehead.

"I'll see you at home, Rooster," she yelled, walking to her car.

Leaning out his truck's window, he saluted her. "Roger that, Lieutenant Hen. I love you."

"Love ya, Cap."

Bradley rolled up the window and looked back at his daughter sleeping peacefully. "Daddy loves you, Little Hen."

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Carpe Noctem 8

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You leave the motel under a cloud of reluctance and relief. You have little to your name but your wallet, phone, and a few snacks. Hesitation keeps you stagnant behind the wheel, hovering over the address saved on your maps. This is it, hit start and accept your fate.

You put your phone on the passenger's seat as the automated voice directs you. You shift into gear and pull out. Disbelief fades to indifference. You don't have the energy to feel.

You follow along, in autopilot, until the GPS announces your destination on the right. You slow down and look up at the large house. Of course. He's rich. Dirty rich.

You pull down the long lot and stop to the right side of the double garage door. You don't get out immediately, you lean back and close your eyes. You try to sort through your thoughts. It's not that big of a deal. Sleep here, go to work, find anywhere else to be during the day.

There's a rumble on the seat beside you and you snatch up your phone. You drag your thumb across the screen to answer, too late to change your mind. It's him. Of course it's him.

"Don't say a word, sweetheart," Lloyd looks down his nose at the lens, "I just need you to see this."

He switches cameras and you squint as he points it at a familiar wooden door. No. The brass numbers confirm his location; your home. Former home.

His hand knocks on the door as he shifts the phone in his hand.

"Lloyd! Stop. No, don't–"

"Fair warning, sunshine, I got you on mute, so if you're tryna change my mind, it won't work." He knocks again, pounding on the door.

As the door opens, Lloyd's fist flies from the edge and snaps Johnny's jaw. You watch the other man stagger and grip his cheek, only for a moment, before swinging back at his attacker. The picture skews as Lloyd dodges and his foot hits Johnny’s chest and sends him onto his ass.

"Think that's about even," Lloyd clucks as he enters your apartment and steps over Johnny.

He leads with the lens, giving you a glimpse of the front room as he inspects it. He finds his way into the bedroom and hums. He goes to the dresser, opening a drawer then shutting it as all he finds are Johnny's briefs. He slides out the next one and picks out a few neatly folded panties.

"You keep a nice place, sweetie pie," he remarks. "Boring…" he comments as he examines a pair of your cotton panties.

You want to cry. You want to just wilt away to nothing. Why is he doing this?

The camera blurs in a smear of colours suddenly and Lloyd grunts. You hear Johnny and a struggle. Banging, clattering, and clamoring. You hear them locked in contention, helpless as you're stuck staring at a wall.

Another growl and an unsettling thump. The phone lifts and Lloyd snorts as you get a glimpse of him, his nose slightly bloody. He puts the phone down and you hear the drawer snap shut.

"See ya soon, baby cakes," he says, slightly breathless, "make yourself cozy… don't miss me too much."

He taps the screen and the call ends. You gape at your phone and whimper as you slump forward. Shit. You're totally fucked and you have a feeling Lloyd knows exactly that.

You lock your phone and sigh. Well, no going back now.

You get out of the car and look around. It's a nice neigbourhood, a bit far from work but not terrible. God, you're really going to do this.

'High five, fuck, go on our way.'

His words reverberate. Does he really want that? From you? Surely you could just pay rent.

You head up the walk and pull up the passcode. You punch it into the keypad on the door and it beeps, a green light granting you access.

Inside, the entry is airy and bright. You pause to take it all in. You check your phone again. Maybe you should go to the apartment and make sure they're not killing each other. Or maybe you should let them. You might avoid a lot of trouble if you just stop trying so hard.

There's a table against the curved rail of the staircase. You near as you give a curious look to the basket on top. White with a bright pink ribbon snaked around the handle. Inside, you find various boxes, taking the first to cringe at the small bullet vibe through the plastic window of the packaging.

The rest of the contents are similar; bottles of lube, stimulating salve, toys, clamps, and even a few panties without much fabric. Jesus. You leave the array of erotic aids but take the small envelope from in front of it. He knew. He knows you have no other option and he's entirely prepared.

Inside the card, ignoring the exterior image of a dildo and butt plug beneath a pun, you find script typed in Arial. 'Welcome to the sex shack. Make yourself at home. Yours is the room with the tie on the handle. Leave it on for when I get there.'

Gross. Not just him, you. There can be no doubt that his intent is just as shallow and sick as he is as a person. But you, you're not going to walk out and sleep in your car. Just like with Johnny, you will roll over and take it.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #The gray man #Au #Drabble #Series #carpe noctem

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b0ther · 6 months

Text

baby, no attachment

toji has nothing to do on a friday night.

pairing : fushiguro toji x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : short one-shot???? bro idk tags : deadbeat situationship toji, vaginal fingering, a bit of dubcon, the usage of the word “baby” and “sweetheart” word count : 870

author's note : title from 'casual' by chappell roan. idk what this is it's just hot... also send requests and i'll see what i can do cuz i'm stuck doing this commission and i need a breather lmfao. toji is so obviously an ass dude it's almost painful to me.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

Your not-boyfriend boyfriend who somehow always ends up spending the weekend in your apartment, bending you over in ways you never thought was possible is there once again on your queen size bed, one hand on the back of your thigh as you type away on your laptop, revising some stupid report due at midnight.

Swinging your legs, you tune out the sound of obnoxious ads playing from the television—and everything is going well until you feel Toji squeezing your flesh, rubbing the skin of your thigh up and down, occasionally tugging on the hem of your shorts.

“Don’t you have a fucking job to go to?” You say, irritated, propping your upper body to look back at him.

Toji shrugs, his hand behind his head against the wall. “No,” he continues massaging the inner part of your thigh, “Besides, it’s a Friday night. What kinda dork works on a Friday night?”

You slant your eyes, knowing damn well that he is probing on your buttons the same way his fingers are trying to probe on your clenching opening. You huff. He’s too easy to read—you can smell his excitement from where you are lying on your stomach.

“Not my fault Masuda’s a greedy bitch,” you mutter, turning your torso around once again, ignoring the obvious hardening bulge under his pants.

“Mhm,” Toji says in a concurring tone, despite not knowing your boss at all. He continues his touch, kneading on your thigh before slipping his hand under the loose opening of your shorts, his wide fingers palming the entirety of your ass cheek. “See, that’s something Masuda and I have in common.”

“Right,” you close your eyes, burying your face in your hands for a moment, taking in a deep breath as to not give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. “And I so totally would let Masuda bend me over in my free time.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, his point finger circling the jiggly surface of your ass. “You seem like the type of girl to let an old man have his way with you like that.”

He tugs on the band of your panties before letting it go, letting the rubber sound ring through the room.

With your eyes shut, you tell yourself to calm down. But you end up jerking back to him a little, seeking the heat emitting from his electric touch.

“Ohh…” Toji breathes, shifting on his seat when his middle finger slips in between your ass cheeks and is immediately greeted with how wet you are.”Masuda gotcha this wet?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you groan, pressing your face harder on the mattress, raising your hips to ease his access, now ignoring the impending deadline before you.

His thick digit is lubed up with just your juice—he wastes no time in prodding around the opening of your cunt while massaging your lips before pushing one finger in. Just as good as you remember it: thick, rough, spreading you open with a sudden thrust as he shoves another finger in.

“Fuck—” You gasp, freeing your face from the bed sheets, damp from your slobber. “God, Toji—”

He only hums, curling the top of his two fingers inside of you, feeling the way your walls mould to the shape of his fingers. You can never fill yourself up the way he does with just his fingers—anything else you’ve slipped inside of your soaked cunt, any other cock can’t satisfy you the way he does.

As he tugs your shorts and panties aside, you can feel the cold air of the air conditioner hitting your sopping pussy lips.

“Hurry,” you cry—urge—for him, wiggling your ass. “Finger my wet cunt with your fingers, fuck me haard—”

“Patient,” Toji grabs your ass cheek, squeezing before landing a sharp slap on its jiggly flesh. He slowly drags his fingers out, also taking his sweet, sweet time in pushing them back inside.

“I don’t have all night, Toji,” you hiss, and he chuckles.

“Well,” he lands another slap on you, “I do.”

He curls his fingers again as you open your mouth, ready to launch another string of curses at him, and your mind is suddenly filled yet again with fogs. You feel drowsy with his fingers inside of you, like he’s able to dumb you down with two fucking fingers.

“Fuuuck…” You push yourself off your position, sitting on your two knees.

“Hmm?” Toji tilts his head at your newly found position, adorning his stupid face with a look meant to be innocent.

You snake your arm around his head and pull him in for a kiss, sinking down on his fingers.

“Ohh, shit,” you mutter against his chapped lips, pressing your forehead against each other. You bite your lips, lifting your body before slamming yourself down yet again on him. “My baby’s sooo big,” you quietly praise with a laugh under a sluggish smile.

“My baby’s sooo tight,” he chuckles, mocking the way your words slur.

You roll your hips, running your hand amongst the strands of his hair. “You better finish what you started, you asshole.”

Toji licks his lips, pressing a firm kiss upon your lips. “I’m gonna be workin’ hard tonight, sweetheart.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro toji #toji smut #jjk smut #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji x reader smut #fushiguro toji x reader smut #fushiguro toji smut

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