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fayes-fics · 10 months ago

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Eden

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...

I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.

Word Count: 4.2k

Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3

Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers.

Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.

“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer.

“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered.

“Are you sure?”

You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him.

“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.

“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict.

Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.

“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.

“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.

The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.

“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.

——

“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.

“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.

“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.

“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room.

“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.

“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.

“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”

“Hey…!” Benedict protests.

“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”

You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby.

“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you.

You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.

“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.

“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.

As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.

——

“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?”

Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later.

“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.

“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.

“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse.

The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank.

“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”

You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.

Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”

You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”

“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”

“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.

“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.

You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours. “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.

He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome.

Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.

“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.

Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot.

“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is.

You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.

He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.

“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.

“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.

“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.

This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body.

“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.

He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.

“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”

You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.

“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.

With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area.

As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.

He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.

“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.” His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.

“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise.

“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”

Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.

“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you.

“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.

You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time.

You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.

“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.

With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.

Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.

“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”

“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.

“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly.

He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does.

“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.

Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.

“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone.

“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.

He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage.

Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.

You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.

“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.

He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.

You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.

“Perfect..” he intones.

In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm.

“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.

His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…

“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.

“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.

Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.

“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”

He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.

You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.

You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.

“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.

That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.

“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.

——

As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.

“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.

“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.

“Even if it is a girl?!”

“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.

He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.

“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.

“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.

“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”

There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.

“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.

“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”

“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.

The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.

——

9 months later

Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.

But it was all worth it.

What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.

“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.

You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”

His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.

“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”

“Four?” he petitions with a wink.

You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.

“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world.

Which to you both, they are.

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i2sunric · 5 months ago

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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (s.jy)

PAIRING: alpha!jake x omega!reader (f)

SUMMARY: being an omega was already hard, but being an omega with an alpha roommate was worse. especially during your heats. you’d lock yourself in your room, trying to ignore his strong scent and his presence, but jake has had enough of hearing pained wails. he’ll help you, even if he wasn’t your alpha (yet).

WARNINGS: omegaverse, roommates au, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talking, riding, cream pie, fingering, pussy eating, knotting (?) , heat and mentions of ruts, pet names (baby, good girl), mentions of pups (this feels strange idk), reader is a virgin, overstimulation, tits sucking (😋), mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 28th August 2024

WC: 4.2k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 (oneshot) @nyfwyeonjun @high-and-low-all-the-way @victorylr @jaeyunwon @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nshmrarki @hchoes @entenen @heeseungshim @seungminsapuppy @starfallia @ratchet-sebooty @jakeyismine @laurradoesloveu @denleave1088 @weebgeek22 @victoriasimm @strxwbloody @love4hee @strayy-kidz @iheartshopping @isa942572 @hazycottagedreams @jky001 @haelahoops @chososloverfr @mitmit01 @icepriincehoon @kaykay11sworld @riribelle @coraldonutmagazine @seuomo @sn03 @hoonwonsoul @pinksweetlittlepiano @jiminie-08 @leiclerc BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (adding the rest in the comments cause i can’t tag more than 50 ppl)

a/n: why do i always end my jake fics with a cliffhanger? it’s a mistery to me as well. i don’t really like how it turned out but i sincerely hope y’all do. idk much abt omegaverse and i searched on google most of the information, if it ain’t accurate let’s just say it’s caseyverse and call it a day. please REBLOG & COMMENT bcs only likes get me shadowbanned. also, lmk your thoughts on this fic 🫶🫶

You were prepared.

You had your favourite blankets, all your plushies, your phone and your charger.

You had even bought a mini fridge to keep enough food so that you would resist for at least three days.

Your heat was coming, you could feel it in your bones, which was the main reason as to why you were locked in your bedroom.

Taking the pill to stop the heat from coming was a good idea, especially since you didn’t have an alpha of your own, but the doctor refused to prescribe them, saying that they would really damage your health.

Because suffering for two to three days straight wasn’t.

Your skin was hot, too hot, sweat started gathering on your forehead, and sticking you to the sheets.

You laid on your bed, trying your best to even your breaths and willing your mind not to slip away.

You hated being an omega and going into heat, especially in summer. The weather affected it, making the pain unbearable.

As you thought about it, a sharp pain like a sting hit your lower stomach, you could feel your panties wetting with arousal.

A small yelp left your lips, your hips slowly bucking in the air to soothe the ache between your legs.

It was humiliating, the way your mind succumbed to the primal urge to mating, to being bred.

Suddenly, a soft knock came from the other side of the door and you scrunched your nose.

Jake, with his strong hormones scent, minty but musky at the same time. You normally could live with it, he was good at hiding his scent so as not to bother you and you hid your pheromones well too.

But now, it almost suffocated you and he wasn’t even in the room with you “Y/N… can I come in?”

You scoffed, mood already ruined by your denied pleasure. It’s not like you didn’t have toys, they were in your drawer, but most definitely you weren’t to use them while Jake was in the house.

You just needed to keep control of your mind.

“Jake, no.” You hissed, even if he already knew the answer “Not for the rest three working days.”

Jake pressed his forehead on the door. He also went into rut, but he would just find a willing omega or a beta to bury himself and then forget about them.

You weren’t like him, you didn’t want someone you didn’t know to be inside you, to have such a power over your body.

“Three days?” He sighed “Fuck, your scent is so strong.”

And it was true, during your heat you released more pheromones so as to attract other alphas. Fact was, it also drove your roommate insane.

“I can smell how bad your heat is, it drives me crazy.” Jake murmured, making you shiver.

You could hear his breathless voice, the thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue was such a turn on.

“Don’t—“ You groaned when another wave of pain hit your lower stomach, “Don’t talk like that.” You pleaded.

"I can't help it." He said, "Your scent is so strong, you smell so good…”

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.

“Please, Jake.” You clung the sheet under you, needing an anchor against your lust “Leave, go outside.”

“I can’t.” He was quick to say “You keep whimpering and I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He stated.

“I’m g-grand.” You replied, “I can manage.”

He gripped the door handle, his muscles tensing up. “I want to help you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I want to take care of you and make you feel good, please, just let me in."

“Don’t complicate things,” You breathed out, your hips moving around the bed “We set boundaries, remember?”

“Boundaries don’t expect me to sit back, knowing you’re suffering.” He bit back, voice strained.

“Still,” You commented.

Jake and you had a nice relationship, you weren’t just roommates but also friends. You loved to hang out with him and you didn’t want him to see you like this. Again, it was too embarrassing, you weren’t sure you’d be able to face him afterwards.

He tried to pull the handle but obviously, you had locked the door “Y/N, open up.”

You turned around on the bed, your hips humping against the mattress, your face flush on the sheets “No.” You said, trying to sound convincing.

“I just want to help you, don’t overthink it.” Jake sighed, pulling the door knob again. “I said no, Jake. Go away.”

At another groan that escaped your lips, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and kicked the door a couple of times until it swung open.

You widened your eyes “What—“ Before you could talk, he pounced on you, his body holding yours down.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that resembled vanilla and peaches, making his head spin “You smell so good, baby.”

You breathed out, trying your hardest not to think about his body so close to you, his skin on yours, “Jake please, get out.”

He planted hot kisses down your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body. “Let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“No..” You murmured but as his hands yanked off your shorts and panties, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs in the same way your consciousness crumbled.

You wanted it, you wanted Jake to take you, to make you his and calm the burning desire that consumed you.

He cursed under his breath, two fingers gathered your arousal and he put them in his mouth, humming “You even taste delicious baby, can you be anymore perfect?”

“Jake..” You murmured, “Make it better.” Your voice was strained and whiny, making Jake’s pants tighter.

“Say no more.” He said and without any warning he pushed two fingers deep inside of you.

How they even fit was foreign to you, given that nobody had ever dared to touch you there, but you didn’t really care at that moment. It felt good, so good.

You moaned out, gripping the sheets under you, your mind already a puddle of pleasure.

His digits were skilled, brushing and thrusting in every spot that got your eyes rolling.

“So wet for me baby, mh?” Jake groaned, the squelching sound filling the room, imprinting in his ears.

He raised your shirt with his free hand and started groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms.

He towered you, his presence dominant behind you, like a shadow swallowing you whole.

Whimpers left your lips, but this time they were a reaction from pleasure, not pain.

“Where is it?” He asked, biting his tongue as he desperately searched for something inside you.

When he felt you moan loudly, he smirked “Got it.” And he started thrusting his fingers in and out, reaching that spot again.

You felt as if your body was being burned, you needed him to continue it, to take you to the edge.

And Jake never stopped, even if his wrist hurt and his fingers grew sore. He lived to hear your cries of pleasure, to be the one making you squirm.

“Close?” He asked when he felt your walls clench around his digits and you nodded.

“Ugh.” You moaned, your eyes squeezing and with one last thrust of his fingers, you fell apart.

Your body trembled, your legs shook. Jake gently helped you ride out of your high before pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.

“If only you could taste yourself, baby.” He took your chin in his hand and raised your body so you were kneeling, back flush to his chest “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”

You felt his bulge brush against your back and it was the moment where your mind went completely black.

Lust winning over reason.

You breathed out “Jake,” Letting one of your hands wander down his chest until it reached his sweats, feeling his clothed hard-on “Put it inside me.”

Jake cursed, his body trembling “You want it inside?” He questioned, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear “Want me to fuck you, mh?”

You nodded blissfully, trying to pull his pants down.

Jake chuckled and let you fall on the mattress, quickly working both his shirt and pants off.

You peeked at him over your shoulder and gasped. His cock was huge, so long and thick it made your mouth water.

Any worry that it might not fit in your virgin pussy was clouded by lust, so you said “Hurry.” Raising your backside in the air.

“Patience.” He ordered, gently pulling your shorts and panties down your ankles, as well as removing your shirt.

He stroked his hard shaft, already leaking precum, he kneeled closer to you and you held onto the headboard.

Jake gripped your backside, squeezing your hips as he teased your entrance with the head of his cock.

You gasped, the feeling so good “I’m going in now.” He had the decency to warn that time and slowly, pushed inside you.

“Ngh.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he put all of his length in you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed.

Jake sighed, his head thrown back. Your walls hugged him, “You’re so tight.” He grunted.

He was going slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed to feel all of him in all of you.

“Faster,” You pleaded, arching your back “Faster, fuck me fast.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He murmured, his pace still too slow

“You hurt me if you don’t start moving fast.” You groaned, reaching a hand behind you to pull his hips nearer you.

Jake shook his head, amazed “Anything you want.” Like that, he moved faster.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room as well as the squelching ones from your wetness.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” He said, voice so husky. He took your chin in his grasp and pulled you up, tilting it to the side so he could kiss you.

Finally, he got a taste of your lips, his tongue licking yours, giving delicious strokes.

You moaned in his mouth and he rewarded you with a rather deep thrust that hit your cervix.

He smirked, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, so he kept hitting it repetitively, alternating slow to fast thrusts.

“That’s it,” He snuck a hand on your neck and gently squeezed “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You couldn’t almost see straight from the amount of pleasure you were given.

He licked your ear, then pressed wet kisses down your jaw, occasionally sucking.

Your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you were close to your orgasm.

“Jake,” You breathed out “Jake, m’so close.”

His free hand went to your clit, gently rubbing circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Ugh!” You moaned, the knot in your stomach snapping, making you cream all over his cock.

Jake gave you slow thrusts, helping you ride out of your orgasms and waiting for you to come down off your high.

Your eyes flickered open as you flopped on the mattress, your body growing tired.

Jake pulled out, making you frown “W-what about you?” You asked quietly.

“I’d love to continue baby, but it’s easier to get pregnant during your heat and I have no condoms.” He explained, pressing a featherlight kiss on your shoulder.

How he wasn’t yet a slave of lust, you didn’t know.

“But..” You wanted to argue but your reason was gone, even the lust, replaced by an immense tiredness.

Jake helped you lay down properly, caressing your sweaty forehead “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if we keep going I won’t be able to pull away.”

He leaned down to press another kiss on your lips “Rest, I’ll clean you up and stay with you, ok?”

You only managed to softly hum as your eyelids grew heavy and his voice grew faint until the world was just black.

⪩⪨.

When you felt the second wave hit, you had half expected to wake up in a pool of sweat and slick.

Definitely, not with Jake’s nose rubbing your clothed pussy, inhaling your sweet smell.

“Jake?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep.

He raised his face and looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot. You couldn’t control your pheromones while you slept and they drove Jake insane, making him lust drunk.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured, giving your pussy another smell “Really need to taste you.”

You still felt groggy from your deep slumber when he slipped your panties down and smelled them again.

“Christ,” Jake groaned, slipping them into his sweatpants’ pocket.

He placed gentle kisses on your thighs and raised your legs, letting them rest on your shoulders.

Jake’s breath fanned against your pussy, making you let out a whiney exhale. He smirked and licked a long stripe out of your wet folds.

He moaned, really moaned, at the taste of you and you couldn’t help but glance down at the man between your legs.

He was drop dead gorgeous, with two deep brown eyes, messy hair and the expression of a starved man ready to dig in for his long awaited meal.

Jake gave you kitten licks again, alternating soft kisses to sucking.

You moaned, throwing your head back. You had always fantasised about how good getting eaten out felt like, but Jake must’ve been the masters of it because lord, if he made you see stars.

Your pussy was dripping with arousal, your juices coating his face, running down his chin.

But he didn’t mind, instead, he tried to gather them all on his tongue so as not to miss anything.

He buried his face between your legs, your feet locking behind his neck.

“You need to keep them open, baby.” He murmured on your clit, “Alright? Can you do that for me?”

You let out a broken hum in response, your mind just filled with unholy thoughts of him. You just barely opened your legs for him.

You needed him to make you cum, over and over again, to teach you everything he knew, in all the positions he liked.

“Good girl,” Jake whispered before downing again, his tongue lapping on your bundle of nerves.

He thrust one finger inside of you, gently curling it to reach your sweet spot, making you a moaning mess.

“Ugh..” You yelped, your back arching, “Pussy so good.” He said between licks “Could do this all day.”

You groaned and put one hand on his head, fingers grasping his locks “Less talking, more licking.”

Jake loved how desperate you were, so different from your usually collected and shy attitude.

You were clouded by lust and all of that was for him, he was really the luckiest alpha on earth.

Your hips bucked against his tongue, you were so close to your orgasm you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Jake...” You breathed out, and he understood what you meant. He removed his finger from you and put his tongue instead, the sensation so new and wet.

His nose brushed against your clit and he patted your waist, signalling that you could start moving.

Both your hands grabbed his hair, riding his tongue, your hips bucking fast against him.

He moaned, sending vibrations all through your body. You rolled your eyes back, “M’so-so close.” You murmured “M’gonna cum.”

If Jake’s mouth was free, he would’ve cooed at how cute you looked, so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even speak properly.

With a few more strong bucks, your legs shook around his neck, your orgasm reaching you like a tidal wave.

You pulled his hair so hard it hurt, but Jake didn’t mind. No, he actually liked it.

“Ride it out,” He murmured “Fuck my tongue, baby.”

You slowly calmed down, your legs fell down on Jake’s sides, your chest heaving slowlier.

You peeled your eyes open, glancing down at Jake.

He had been humping the mattress, as if eating you out was a source of pleasure for him as well.

You could see that the precum leaking from his bulge had stained his sweats, his chest already bare.

“Can I ride you?” You asked such a filthy question so innocently that Jake could’ve cum on spot.

“You want to ride me, baby?” You nodded shamelessly while he chuckled, patting your leg “Get up.”

You followed his lead, getting up so he could take your position. He leaned his back against your bed’s headboard and held out his hands to you.

You took them in yours as he helped you sit on his lap.

Jake’s hands settled on your waist while yours on his shoulders, your hips slowly rocking on his.

He groaned, his head thrown back against the headboard. “You feel so good.” His smirk made you want to do many unspeakable things to him.

Swiftly, he removed your shirt and started touching your warm breasts, teasing your nipples.

He tilted you towards him and latched his mouth on one, kissing and swirling his tongue around your nipple while kneading the other.

You moaned, rewarding him with a rather deep grind, feeling his whole length underneath you.

Suddenly, a thought crossed your blackened mind “Breed me.”

Jake stopped his work on your breasts and looked up at you, his brows furrowing.

Something in his brain was trying to warn him, but he was far too deep to even care “Yeah? You want me to breed you?”

He circled your waist with one arm and pulled you up, pulling his sweats and boxers down and kicking them off his ankles.

“I want your pups.” You murmured, your voice frail and quiet but full of desire.

Jake groaned, his cock twitching “Fuck, baby.”

“I’ll give you my pups,” You pumped his shaft with your hand and held it to your entrance as he slowly lowered you on him “I’ll fill you with my pups.”

The thought of your belly all swollen, your body changing to carry his pups wasn’t such a bad idea… was it?

You wanted everyone to know he was the alpha who took care of you, you wanted— no, you needed him to mate you.

He moved you up and down, slowly at first, so you could get used to him, but then he snapped his hips up into yours forcefully.

He debated whether to let you ride him or to just take the lead and fuck into you, but his control had crumbled long time ago and all he needed was to breed you.

The desire was consuming the both of you, leaving the room only with moans, grunts, heavy breaths and filthy sounds.

You sincerely hoped your neighbours weren’t to hear your late night activities.

You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You left kitten kisses and sucked on his skin, making his head spin.

You fit so well in his arms and he fit so well inside of you.

“Pussy was made for me,” He grunted, his pace picking up “Mh, Were you made for me, baby? Aren’t you my omega?”

You nodded, your walls sucking him in, squeezing around him “I’m yours,” You cried out “I’m yours, all of me.”

Jake’s eyes lit up “Yeah?” He chuckled, placing one hand on your lower stomach. He could feel the shadow of his bulge under his palms.

“Do you feel it, baby? I’m here.” You felt him press down, earning a moan from you.

You looked down to where his hand was and almost came on spot “So— S’deep.” You threw your head back.

He circled your hips, making your clit brush against his pubic hair.

“You like it deep?” He asked, his voice low, his accent thicker when he was lost in lust. “You like it when I’m so deep you can feel me everywhere?”

You nodded mindlessly, your eyes squeezing as you felt your second orgasm approach “Like it!” You exclaimed “Like it so much, Jake, please.”

Jake groaned in answer and goped your ass, lifting you up so he could fuck into you.

His hips moved fast, his balls smacking on your skin. You grasped his shoulders and bit down on his neck, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming all your senses.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” He murmured, his grip on you so tight it left red marks.

“Jake, oh lord—” You cried out, feeling your orgasm approach “Cum around my cock.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear it sent shivers in your body.

“Mh— Ah.” You moaned as your euphoria reached you, your legs trembling and body squirming. If it wasn’t for Jake’s iron grip, you would’ve fallen out of your small bed.

But he didn’t care that you needed to calm down, not really, because his hips continued to snap against yours.

His cock was in so deep he hit your cervix with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure all around your body.

Your ears rang from your powerful orgasm, your breath laboured. Overstimulation made your body tremble. But still, you didn’t feel complete.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whisper in his ear, your arms clinging to him for dear life. “Please Jakey, I need you to breed me.”

That was all it took. Jake’s movements altered, his cock twitching inside of you as his balls emptied.

You felt his hot seed filling you up, but soon it was followed by a sharp pain.

“Ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes “J-jake…”

He cursed under his breath, his orgasm still washing over him. It had never happened that he came so much like that time, liquid spurring inside of you.

“Shit baby, I’m sorry,” He breathed out “I may have knotted you.”

“What?!” You widened your eyes, back to your normal self. Your worried and overthinker self.

You tried to move away from him but the sharp pain came back.

“Shh, don’t move.” Jake instructed “It’ll hurt more if I pull out now,”

“It hurts either way!” You groaned, clinging on him like an anchor.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed featherlight kisses on your neck “The first time always hurts, but I swear it gets better.”

“I’m dying here.” You whimpered, but Jake’s touch was soothing and so were his words and a few minutes later, the pain stopped.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and kissed your temples “You okay?”

You nodded, now that there was nothing tied up inside of you, you felt refreshed. Happier. You didn’t even feel any discomfort caused from the heat.

Jake smiled softly and caressed your cheek, he leaned in to whisper “Knotting helps with your heat pain.”

“But it hurts like a bitch.” You frowned, watching as he carefully placed you down on the bed and cleaned you up with a tissue.

Jake chuckled, “I told you, it gets better.”

⪩⪨.

And it did, Jake was no liar.

The morning after he was kind enough to drive you to the doctor who gave you a prescription to take birth control. He said it would be better than fully stopping your heat.

He also reassured that the percentage to get pregnant was high after a knot (nagging at Jake for losing control), but as long as you took the pill within twenty-four hours, it would slow or block the process completely.

You hoped for the latter.

Obviously, he highly recommended to always use protections and to avoid knotting… but, you used a condom just a couple of times, because your heat wouldn’t get better unless Jake fucked you raw and filled you wih his seed.

In fact, he took you in the shower, on the couch and even in the kitchen. Any time was a good time to eat you out and stuff you full.

The only place left ‘holy’ was his room, but he said it’d be filthy once his rut started. Which, by the way, you agreed to help him through.

Jake even skipped his lectures to stay at home with you and provide you whatever you needed. Not like he attended much on a daily basis.

Everything went smoothly, he was so caring towards you, always looking after you when you passed out from the intense sex, even cooking for you (even if he burnt the pan and you two had to order out) and giving you nice massages until your heat completely stopped.

However, it was around a month later, when you came out of the bathroom with teary eyes and a positive pregnancy test in hand that you and Jake realised you had taken it too far.

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potchi-fics · 1 month ago

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note: g!p cait stil drunk yall i dont fuking care alcohol and my laptop AND freewill??????/ im writing everythin. happiest birthday to my fucking wife, better late than never. and for the record, she's the only enforcer i'd open my legs to, face down ass up. I WILL BED HER UNTIL HER SIGHT COMES BACK

today is a very special day. it’s your wife’s, piltover’s finest, birthday. and what to do other than give caitlyn her birthday present first thing in the morning?

here you are, under the blanket, pulling down cait’s boxers. you take her cock in your hands, she’s big, and she has a pretty one, pink tip and tall, shaven too. you kiss the head, softly pumping it, being careful to not wake her up so soon.

“aren’t you a big one?” a quiet chuckle slips from you. “shit, always so hard in the morning, ain’t that right?”

you continue with your actions; giving the side of her dick kisses, licks, suckling the head slightly, and she’s slowly becoming restless. your mouth takes all of her with a slow pace, easing it all the way in, relaxing your throat, and resisting your gag reflex.

soft moans and mumbles of your name from above the blanket reach your ears. you stay still for a second, swallowing around her hardened cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheek as you pull up for air. you jerk her off unhurriedly, soaking in her whimpers.

caitlyn is throbbing in your hand. you take her back in your mouth, making sure to flatten out your tongue to glide against the underside of her cock, gagging when the head hits the back of your throat—she, unconsciously, thrusts up; you close your eyes to let her.

you feel the blanket move, and the humid air finally gets released.

“darling?” she calls out for you, still in a sleepy state. “good morning to me.”

you look up, her cock still in your warm mouth. you pull back until the tip’s only in, and pump the rest.

she hisses, euphoria spreading throughout her body, making her toes curl, and her hands grip the sheets. caitlyn eyes roll back as you begin to bob your head up and down, the feeling of your mouth, tongue, and hand working her pulsating dick overwhelming her.

she snaps her gaze back at you, her hand darting down to grab your head, forcing you to look at her, “just the tip, darling.” you obey her. “suck it for me, please?” you groan, her words sending heat between your legs. “yeah, just like that–shit, doing such a good job for me.”

her eyes are glinting dangerously, hues so dark that they don’t even look like blue anymore. you deepthroat her suddenly, resulting in another thrust up your mouth.

you take her out of your mouth, hand still pumping it furiously, earning you mewls and ragged sighs, “cum down my throat, commander.”

“god, fuck, fuck. fucking succubus—you are a goddamn succubus.” she grits out, her teeth grinding together. she grabs your head, her abdomen flexing as she starts to fuck your sore throat.

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

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(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them

A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show

Aaron Hotchner

Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through.

If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.

It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest.

He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes.

However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’.

However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him.

In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain.

He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death.

David Rossi

Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.

“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?”

It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close.

He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded.

If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it.

“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.”

He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up.

He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force.

Derek Morgan

This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is.

He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened.

If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance.

However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat.

He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you.

“Only the best for you, hot stuff.”

He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him.

Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it.

Emily Prentiss

She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public.

She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do.

However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this.

She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her.

She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable.

She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected.

After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it.

JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it.

She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest.

JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.

She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir.

“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”

If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed.

However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.

Penelope Garcia

This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly.

“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”

She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment.

They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.

She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home.

If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you.

They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building.

“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.”

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him.

He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep.

At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing.

However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case.

In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him.

He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in.

He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby.

Masterlist

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #criminal minds #BAU #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #david rossi x reader #david rossi #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #penelope garcia x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #hotch x reader

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sirxlla · 1 month ago

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The Batboys Get You An Animal / Asking Them for An Animal

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Dick: Haley (Bitewing) was extremely lonely with both you and Dick at work more recently. She just really needed another dog to play with, Dick had noticed it a lot more in the past month of so.

After Dick picked up you from work cause it was better for the environment to carpool, you found him driving in a different direction to your shared apartment building which caused you to furrow your brows.

"I think your turned around, Bubby." You said with a kind and paitent tone.

"No, this is the right direction. Don't you worry, My Love." He squeezed your hand with a kind smile as he kept his eyes watched the road. He drove you to the shelter and let you pick whichever dog you wanted which happened to be a cute little female grey/blue doberman. (Of course you held it all the way home.)

Haley was just happier than ever when you put the little puppy down and took her out of the crate she was in so you could get her upstairs. Haley was yipping and running around, this was such a good step forward in your relationship, growing together family as a family.

Dick was snapping as many pictures as he could of the dogs, then you playing with them. He's so happy with his girls being in one picture, so proud he made it his lockscreen.

Jason: "Babygirl, I don't know if its a good idea. I dont know if were ready for that. Hell, I dont know if I'm ready for that on my own." He had said a few months ago.

Of course that was until he came home with a kitten he found in an alley, the white little fur ball was the only other thing besides you that made his heart swell. He almost was gonna leave it where it was but he didnt have the heart to do such a thing.

He came in with it in his arms, the little kitten cuddled into his chest inside his motorcycle jacket. It was late so Jason didnt wake you as he took care of the little sweet guy, he gave him a bath and gave him the wet food he got on the way home. Jason swaddled that sweet little kitten in a hand towel before woke you up. You mumbled and groaned until you opened your eyes which immediately went wide.

"Oh, my god!" Tears filled your eyes as you reached for the kitten.

"I found him in an alley, he's a bit sick and he really needs a home, Babygirl. Can we keep him?" He asked with a pleading and somewhat worried tone.

"Can we keep him!? YES! OF COURSE!" You were crying as you cuddled the slightly damp kitten.

Jason and you took him the the vet the next morning to get taken care of. He named him Tokyo as a joke cause he was white which you didnt realize what it meant for several months.

Bruce: You knew the answer, a swift and adament no. So being the person you are, you bought a guinea pig cause its easy to take care of and Bruce would be less likely to complain about it.

You would carry it around in your pocket and let it sleep on a little blanket you put the desk that held the Batcomputer. He would act like he hated the entire idea of it but as soon as you would come down to the Batcave without it he would ask where it was with a bit of a sad tone.

He would never admit it but he enjoyed that tiny guy and how you doted it on the little thing. Bruce knew how lonely it was to actually be with him considering his 'playboy' persona he had to wear and being Gotham's savior. By the time your anniversary came he had gotten you another guinea pig so you had two little guys to hang out with and thats exactly what you did.

+ When you were away at work or asleep and he happened to pass the cage in his room the both of you shared, he would take them out and sit with them. Bruce secretly has a ton of pictures of the little guinea pigs in his camera roll.

Tim: You didnt even need to ask him, the answer would be yes with not even a little resistance. Little did Tim know this wasnt your average pet.

"Tim, I adopted a kid." You said casually when you came home.

"You did what?" He was nervous and he nearly choked on his own spit, that was until you came in the house holding a baby goat.

"Oh! A little kid!" He was so excited, Tim would run around with him and bring him inside all the time. He never complained out the little guy, he even got him clothes and little goat diapers so he could stay inside. You didnt think goats could be trained but alas, Tim did with little issue which is a bit unsuprising cause Tim can do anything he sets his mind to.

Damian: Damian has a fucking farm of animals so convincing him to get an animal was the easiest conversation ever.

It was 'Whatever animal you wanted as long as youd take care of it, Beloved.' He had said.

"A snake?" You asked him with a slightly excited tone as the two of you laid in bed, your face pressed to his warm bare chest.

"If that's what you want." He replied with his eyes closed as if getting another animal was nothing. (because to him it is.)

"A cow?" You asked cause you wanted to know how ridiculous you could get with it.

"We already have one of those, Beloved." He said with a smile again in that tone as if it was normal for someone to have a pet cow.

"Well, what if Titus wants a friend, Baby?" You asked as you heard the Great Dane huff at the end of the bed where his bed was.

"Another dog would be good, I'd feel a lot more secure knowing there were at least two dogs in the house when I'm away." Damian stated, plus he wanted to teach you more of the commands to control Titus and most of them were in German. You getting a dog would be a diagetic way for you to learn and teach your dog as well as understand how to control Titus.

You were stuck between a Chocolate Lab and a Dalmatian, in the end Damian got he got both of them. It took patience and time but Damian got them all to behave and listen to the pair of you.

Two dogs were good for security but three? Three made his worry about you while he was gone almost vanish entirely.

(Send me prompts if you want)

Masterlist

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blvdheart · 8 months ago

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last minute remedy

di leon kennedy x fem!reader

basically, he just fucks you to sleep upon request

note: just a little something to ease my insomnia :3 definitely wanna write about him with a hybrid!reader when i can dedicate more time to writing something long and thought out yipee

leon could never deny you anything. you were his pretty princess. how could he not give in whenever you flashed him a pout and that puppy-dog look of yours that you had perfected to a tee? others would call you spoiled, but whatever you wanted, leon happily gave.

so when you woke him up in the middle of the night with a whisper of his name, a few taps on his shoulder, your cute eyes all wide and expectant as you asked him to fuck you to sleep, he caved pretty quickly.

poor thing, he knew you struggled with falling asleep.

it didn’t take long for his cock to get hard, just the sight of your hand pawing at his boxers was enough to get all his blood rushing south. not to mention the way you pulled your panties off and bunched the fabric of your nightgown up to your hips out of desperation.

fuck. you were so pretty.

that’s how he got here, settled on top of you with his hips nestled between your thighs and your calves lazily crossed over his torso. he’s slow with his movements, letting every inch of his cock fill your needy cunt before pulling out to rub his precum dribbling tip against your clit, and then burying himself back in.

he goes so deep it has your eyes brimming with feel-good tears, and they roll down your cheeks when you shut your eyes.

“yeah, just close your eyes and feel me. don’t gotta worry about a thing, sweet girl.”

he leans down to kiss away your tears, the salty taste of them having become oh so dearly familiar from past moments where you sat on his lap and sobbed your eyes out. or in intimate settings like these where all the pleasurable shocks going through your body had you tearing up.

what a crybaby, he loved it.

who needs a heavy blanket to keep the coldness away when your boyfriend’s body exudes enough heat to keep you all warm and cozy? his body drapes over yours so perfectly.

he knows when you’re close, you don’t even gotta tell him. he feels you squeezing like a vice and he has to resist the urge to creampie you right then and there.

he takes a deep breath, propping himself up on one of his forearms. he’s not getting any younger and he can’t hold back for as long, not when he has a cutie like you under him. he has to make you finish before he spills. his other hand gives one of your tits a gentle squeeze before lowering so the pad of his thumb can circle your swollen clit. his thumb slipped a bit, that’s how soaked you were.

“shh, that’s it…i’ve got you.” he rasps as he presses a kiss against your temple. “just like princess. doing so well for me. you’re gonna dream of me after this, yeah?”

his voice is like a lull, blending in perfectly with the soft sound of your uneven breathing. if you weren’t so damn sleepy, you would’ve been embarrassed by how wet you were, the squelching sounds echoing through the quiet room.

your legs weakly squeeze him, your fingers digging into the sheets, soft and shaky breaths spilling from your lips with sleepy murmurs of his name. “leon, leon, leon…”

no more need to buy gummies and other medications that put you at the risk of getting nightmares. not when leon is more than willing to soothe you by stuffing his dick inside you whenever you ask him to.

it doesn’t even matter that he didn’t shoot a load, just knowing that you were able to go to drift off to dreamland is enough for him.

he gently cleans you up with a warmly washed towel and then freshens up as well before placing a kiss on your forehead as he tucks you in and then slides right next to you, keeping you safe by his side.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

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violetflowerswrites · 1 month ago

Text

Sweetheart

Pairing: Logan Howlett X Female Mutant Reader

Era: X Men 1 / Trilogy

Summary: Logan and the resident therapist for the mutant school grow closer due to Logan’s resistance to her emotional manipulation powers. A friends with benefits situation naturally leads to falling for each other.

Word Count: 6.5k

Disclaimers: smoking, mentions of cheating, mentions of mental health issues (PTSD, trauma, self-harm/suicide), swearing, explicit sexual content. Consensual kissing, touching, oral sex, and p in v sex. Logan has a bit of a pain kink. 18+ mature only. Minors DNI.

A/N: I recently re-watched X1 because Logan has been on my mind since the Deadpool and Wolverine movie this past summer. And holy hell Hugh Jackman is SO cute and SO sexy and SO flirty in X1 that I couldn’t help but write this absolutely depraved, incredibly smutty (and soft!) fic. Seriously, it just kept getting longer and longer because of all the smut scenes. Enjoy!

…

The first thing you noticed was the hairy forearm laid heavily on your stomach. The heft of it acted as a natural weighted blanket, lulling you into that peaceful haze between wake and sleep.

But the laughter and squeals of kids playing in the freshly fallen snow outside your window invaded your mind with happy energy.

Excitement and adrenaline.

Winter morning sunshine and the holiday spirit.

Too bad you still hadn’t quite mastered how to dial the volume down of the outside world so you could sleep in.

With a contented sigh, you turned and gazed at the weather-tanned face of Logan, aka The Wolverine.

He was scruffy, rough around the edges, and altogether too much of a flirt to be boyfriend material.

But that was exactly how you liked your men.

Emotionally unavailable?

Check.

Morally ambiguous backstory?

Check.

Utterly ravishing in bed?

Check.

Logan and yourself definitely had a friends with benefits situation going on. Not that anyone would have bothered to say anything. Although you hoped Professor X wasn’t spending his free time dipping into the confines of your mind.

You see, you were the in-house therapist. You knew everyone’s secrets so they didn’t dare share yours. It was the best insurance policy in a school full of mutants you could have gotten.

Ever since you were young, you had always been “in-tune” with others’ emotions. Uncannily so.

Somehow you didn’t question this, but the obvious career of choice was to become a therapist.

It wasn’t until your college boyfriend cheated on you and you felt so overcome with rage that you told him to drive himself off a cliff.

And he did.

But not really.

He was so upset that you caught him in bed with another woman, that he stopped paying attention to the road on the way home and got into a little fender bender. A trip to the ER and a few bruises and a cracked rib later, it was more than enough to scare you into thinking that perhaps your influence was more than just a high EQ.

So you tested your powers. First, getting your roommate to stop stealing your food from the fridge. Then, helping your sister reconcile with your mom over Thanksgiving dinner. After that, soothing crying babies in seconds. Calming down PTSD patients in relapse episodes. Catching students in mental health crises before they did something they could never take back.

Before you knew it, you were making six figures post-grad at a fancy private clinic for celebrities in Hollywood whose biggest problems were having way too much money and convincing themselves that they had every disorder in the DSM-5.

Then, Professor X found you. And hired you on the spot to be the school counselor / therapist / shrink / lady-who-you-talk-to-lying-on- the-couch, at his school for mutants.

Sorry—at the “Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters” as it officially said on your business card.

…

The peaceful inhales and exhales of the human heating pad next to you put you in a nostalgic mood. So you burrowed down deeper into the covers and remembered handing that exact business card to the burliest man you’d ever seen in your little office.

That was the first thing you noticed when Logan walked in through the mahogany wooden door almost half a year ago now. How he filled up the door frame with not just height, but pure mass of muscle.

Jesus Christ, is this man on steroids? You remembered thinking.

The second thing you noticed was the hair. Thick and dark and messy, but pointed and shaped exactly like ears.

The third thing was his hands. Almost always in fists, as if he was ready to fight in a moment’s notice.

Which he probably was.

Ah. You had thought to yourself then.

This is why they call him The Wolverine.

“Good morning!” You greeted him warmly, trying to exude as much welcoming energy as you could.

It was met with a brick wall and a single grunt of acknowledgment.

Not fazed in the least, you gestured to a plush deep espresso-colored leather sofa that matched the soothing wood tones of the room.

“You’re not gonna ask me to lie down on that, are ya?” Logan gruffed out.

”Totally up to you.” You tried to disarm him with a smile, which he resolutely ignored. So, you handed him your business card and he begrudgingly took it, though he barely glanced at it and tossed it on top of the cushions.

Then, Logan pulled out a lighter and a cigarette from his leather jacket and took a long drag.

“Mind if I smoke?” Logan asked afterwards, with an arched brow.

Clearly he was trying to get a rise out of you, so you ignored the blatant lack of manners and simply shook your head and tried to make a joke.

“Not if you’re willing to share.” You half laughed, half coughed.

“I doubt a pretty lil thing like you smokes Malboro reds, much less a shrink.” Logan exhaled another thick column of smoke.

“You don’t know where my mouth has been.”

The words slipped out of your smiling lips before you could catch them, and you mentally slapped yourself for letting your intrusive thoughts come out.

Logan’s jaw dropped open, before he quickly shut it and kept a firm grip on his cigarette before it fell and burned a hole into Professor X’s very expensive carpet.

You felt a shift in the room. Logan’s energy was defensive, reluctant, and suspicious when he walked in.

Now, it was undoubtedly aroused.

To you.

Goddammit.

“I apologize. That wasn’t very professional of me. I’m going to be straight with you because I know that Professor X requested that you to come here. He specifically asked me to help you recover some memories, possibly work through some PTSD and figure out who…” you hesitated, searching for a polite way to phrase what you wanted to say next.

“Fucked me up with their experiments?” Logan laughed bitterly. “No need to sugar coat it, sweetheart.”

“Ahem. Yes. But now I’ve clearly given you mixed signals—“

“Mixed signals?” Logan grinned impishly. “I’m just picking up what you’re putting out.” He leaned back into the sofa.

“Well, that’s not exactly it. You see, I have the ability to read emotions.” You explained, “and influence the emotions of others.”

“Really?” Logan looked intrigued, but not quite convinced. “Tell me what I’m feeling right now.”

”You came in unwilling and totally against seeing a therapist.” You took a breath. “And now you’re curious, and a little attracted to me right now.”

“Not just a little, Doc.” He took another drag of cigarette.

“I’m sure you tell that to all the girls.” You waved away his comment, trying to not let him make you blush.

“Nah.” Logan exhaled. “Tell me I’m lying.”

“Well, I can’t do that. But I can change how you feel.” You offered.

“Try me.” He sat up in his seat, leaning forward in a challenge. “Make me not feel attracted to you.”

You furrowed your brow in concentration. Emotions were a finicky thing to manipulate, but your powers helped you “see” the feeling, almost like an aura or energy around the person.

Logan’s right now was pulsing, wafting off his body towards you, as his locked eyes with yours.

So you tried, pushing it back. Changing its shape, its color.

Its taste in your mouth.

But it stayed the same.

Sweet, sultry, and utterly addicting.

“What the hell?” You muttered. Your professionalism fell away as you were caught by surprise yet again by this man.

“What?” Logan murmured.

“It’s not…I can’t…” you trailed off, perplexed.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Logan teased, “powers don’t work on me?”

“Holy shit.” You whispered to yourself. “Holy shit.” You emphasized the expletive in shock.

Logan’s face fell when he realized you weren’t messing with him. Your powers actually didn’t work on him.

“Stay right there. Don’t you dare leave!” You thrusted a finger in his face and practically ran out the door, your eyes shining in excitement.

And you left a very confused Wolverine in his seat.

It turned out, The Wolverine had very strong resistance to psychic-type powers. Your powers were much weaker than Professor X, or even Dr. Jean Grey’s, so it was easy for him to subconsciously block them off. When you were first hired, you worked with Professor X and Jean a lot, trying to improve your manipulation abilities, but they could always tell when you were trying to change their emotions. Others like…say…Cyclops for example? Not so much.

You chuckled aloud at the juvenile pranks you pulled with Jean, like making Cyclops feel so confident he sober-karaoked on a night out, and you and Jean recorded his performance, clutching your sides with laughter.

He was actually an excellent singer, but he never let the two of you hear another note again. After all, your powers changed emotions, but not memories.

…

Logan shifted on the mattress, feeling the vibrations of your quiet laughter, and he let out a sleepy groan. You held your breath until he settled back into stillness, not meaning to wake him just yet.

Your mind wandered again to another memory.

“You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles, sweetheart.” A rough voice interrupted your concentration and smoothed your forehead with an equally rough thumb.

“Stop calling me sweetheart, it’s distracting!” You playfully shoved Logan in the shoulder and he didn’t budge an inch. The man was built like a tank and had absolutely no qualms attacking you.

With his constant, less-than-subtle flirting that is.

“How’s this for distracting?” Logan grabbed your waist and plopped you right in his lap. Your tight black skirt rode up your thighs in a decidedly unprofessional manner. Logan’s eyes immediately flickered down to your exposed skin, before he brought your hands up to the sides of head.

“Jesus Christ Logan, I’m trying to get better at this.” You huffed out exasperatedly, but you could feel Logan’s emotions charging up, along with your own.

Attraction.

Magnetic, sensual, delicious attraction to each other.

It didn’t take mutant powers to see that the two of you had chemistry. The tension had been building for months since that first day Logan stepped into your office. Now, it was another matter entirely to test if you had sexual chemistry. Which Logan always seemed to push the boundaries on.

Because now, here you were, sitting on the lap of a man who you were supposed to be helping, training with, and trying to practice your powers on.

And your attention was wholly on how thick and hard and firm his rolling thigh muscles felt under the pliant flesh of your ass. You subconsciously sank down further into his lap and Logan closed his eyes in a slow couple of blinks.

“Careful there, sweetheart.” Logan’s voice came out with more gravel than he intended.

“Oh, are we feeling a little distracted?” You whispered in a smirk, your hands practically grasping the thick aura of attraction between the two of you.

The strength of Logan’s emotion was quite literally making you feel drunk with arousal. You could tell Logan noticed the increase in the thrumming of your heartbeat and the speed of your hot breath so close to his face.

“What am I feeling right now?” Logan searched your eyes, his tone filled with barely masked self-control, desire, expectation.

“Tell me.”

You sucked in a shaky breath. “You wanna fuck me.”

“You’re damn right I do.”

Logan’s strong hands tangled in the hair at the back of your head as his lips, teeth, and tongue clashed messily with yours. He didn’t hold back anything, and it felt like he was devouring you whole. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, pushing the leather jacket off and you dug your fingernails into the thick muscle of his biceps.

Logan released your mouth with a growl, and he wasted no time nipping, sucking, and licking all over your neck and collarbone.

Meanwhile, you were transfixed by how the bright pink lines of your scratches were healing on his tanned skin. Curiosity got the better of you and you tried scratching him again, harder this time.

“You trying to hurt me, sweetheart?” Logan grumbled hotly against your ear.

“Mmm maybe?” You giggled, sighing into his lips that were pressing kisses against the side of your face.

“Good.” Logan kissed down your throat, ripping apart the buttons of your work blouse as he went. “I like a bit of pain when I’m fucking.”

You peeled off the top and your lacy black bra, exposing your bare breasts to Logan and he promptly buried his face in your flesh, clearly enjoying himself with your body. Unseemingly moans continuously poured out of both of you and your lust-riddled brain somehow remembered that it was the middle of the workday and you were in your third floor office that anyone could walk by.

“Logan, hold on—I need to…” You gasped out in stuttered breaths.

“Mmph” he grunted back, his teeth having found your perky nipples and he was clearly too focused on that to hear a thing you said.

So you grabbed a thick tuft of his hair and yanked his head back, to which the man actually snarled at being interrupted.

Unafraid, you laughed with delight and kissed him deeply. He tasted of cigarettes and salt and a delicious musk that solely belonged to him.

“I need to close the curtains and lock the door, Logan.” You reprimanded.

Resigned, Logan spread his arms to the back of the couch as he watched you secure the room. Even with your back turned, you could feel that his gaze never wavered from you. The lust poured off of him in waves that pulsed with every breath he took.

It was a deep red, thick like a fog, and it filled your nostrils, your head, your senses entirely. You’ve never felt your powers be so entirely overwhelmed by a single person before.

But Logan was not just anyone.

“I can feel so much from you.” Your voice dropped down into a strained whisper as you stepped back towards him, in between his man-spread legs. You reached a hand behind you to unzip your skirt, and Logan licked his lips once he saw the little black thong you had on underneath. He quickly undid his belt buckle and threw it to the side with a clatter. You slid your hands up his chest slowly, inhaling his scent as you kissed the side of his neck, finding a single vein throbbing with his increased heartbeat.

His white tank fell in a heap on the floor. A second later, dark blue jeans followed suit. Finally, you used your free hand to yank his boxers down and he was completely bare before you at last.

“What do you feel?” Logan could not stop staring at you, at your body, and following every motion of your hands.

You straddled his lap, a knee on either side of his thick thighs. Logan released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when you sat your bare bottom on his lap once again.

Instead of replying, you whispered into his mouth, “Cut off my thong.”

Thrill licked up your spine as you watched a single blade release from his right hand, and Logan oh-so-carefully sliced the string of your panties along your hips. Silently, you both watched as it slid off your heated skin.

You rewarded him with another kiss, running your tongue along the inside of his mouth. He nudged his nose into your cheek, desperate for more.

Meanwhile, you reached down between your bodies and found his painfully erect member. Your lips swallowed the needy growl that escaped the back of Logan’s throat. It made a slow smile spread on your face.

This man wanted you as badly as you wanted him. And neither of you could wait a second longer to devour each other like animals.

“I feel your desire.” You finally answered his question, just as you pulled his thick cock towards your ready core, and you sank down in a single motion.

You both released the most guttural groan at the same time. Logan was a huge man and he had a cock to match. The head pushed against your cervix and you felt positively stretched out trying to accommodate his girth.

Logan filled his hands with the supple flesh of your hips, pulling you up only for you to slide back down, your slickness coating him well.

You braced yourself on his shoulders, raising yourself onto your knees until he was nearly slipping out of you. You glanced down between your two bodies, getting a glimpse of his glorious cock.

“Stop teasing.” Logan panted into your chest, his own already shining with sweat.

You smirked and lowered yourself again, slowing down even more.

Tantalizing The Wolverine with the hot suck of your pussy.

Pressing your soft breasts into the mass of hair on his chest.

Your mouth unrelentingly kissed his scruffy face and wet lips.

“Sweetheart.” Logan’s nickname for you was strained out through clenched teeth.

Laced with warning.

You paid no heed, continuing your teasing movements until, with a roar of impatience, Logan sunk his fingers into the soft fat of your ass and thrusted upwards as hard as he could.

You released his lips with a yelp of surprise and he set a brutal pace. Logan’s length drilled into your hot core, stretching you, spearing you far deeper than you could have ever expected.

“O-oh my god! Logan! S-slow down!” You implored, but Logan had other plans for how he was going to wreck you.

Every thrust was met with a hard slap of skin on skin, and the most you could do was simply dig your nails into his biceps, this time, drawing blood with how hard you were holding on to him.

The pain however, simply goaded him to keep railing you like a rag doll. His cock buried itself to the hilt only to pull out and push back in again, over and over, as if it could never be satisfied.

You had a feeling that Logan had stamina for hours. The Wolverine could just keep going until both of you lost the ability to move. As much as that sounded incredible, the thin trails of blood running down his skin forced you to reconsider how much sex the two of you could handle. At least for the moment.

“Logan, s-seriously. You’re bleeding.” You finally managed to say.

“It’ll heal.” Logan ground out. But, he did slow down until you sat back in his lap, running your fingers along the cuts your fingernails had caused. He wasn’t wrong; each small wound was closing up at a remarkable speed.

“I don’t want to hurt you each time we have sex, Logan.” Even if he liked pain, you didn’t feel comfortable inflicting injury on this beautiful man. Or getting too rough too fast.

“You could never hurt me, sweetheart.” Logan assured you, holding you more gently now, his breath coming in heavy pants. But, he could see the worry on your face, so he kissed the sweaty furrow of your brow.

“Okay. We’ll take it slow. I won’t be so rough, unless you say so.” He murmured against your skin. The both of you were drenched in sweat as if you had run a marathon.

You carefully untangled yourself from Logan’s body and stood up on wobbly legs. You were already feeling a dull ache of soreness between your thighs.

“Hold on-you said ‘each time we have sex’ as in…” Logan questioned.

“Oh we’re not done. You haven’t even made me cum yet.” You grinned at him, walking over to your desk.

You sensually bent over, presenting your slick-shiny slit to Logan.

“I doubt you could stay away from me after you’ve had a taste.” You teased him, the desperation for this man to give you an orgasm making the dirty talk stream out of your lips. Your outside persona as the put-together empath long gone in favor of the filter-less, horny, and needy slut you really were.

Logan immediately crossed over to you in a few strides, holding the weight of his still-erect cock over your waiting entrance.

As he pushed into you, one hand holding you down onto your desk, he corrected your statement.

“You’re wrong, sweetheart.” Logan explained. “I couldn’t stay away from you before you let me fuck this sweet pussy.”

His deliberate slowness was absolute torture on your body. He filled you up in a way no man, no mutant had ever done before.

“Oh! Right there, Logan!” You moaned out, barely hearing what he said. His cock now pushed against that delicious spongy center in your cunt. He then pulled out, admiring the way your juices coated every thick vein on his member.

He entered you again, just as slowly, making sure both of you felt every inch of his invasion. Your hands reached over to the other side of the desk, your white knuckled grip clutching the edge. You needed to hold on to something, anything to ground yourself or you were going to lose it with how Logan was tormenting you with his cock.

“P-please, keep going!” The desperation in your voice turned whatever you said into a whine.

A few thrusts later, and you could feel that familiar tightening in your core. You were getting so close, and you were sure that the helpless moans that kept coming out of your mouth were an obvious indication to Logan that you were about to cum.

“I knew I wanted to make you scream my name with my cock the very first day we met.” Logan finally concluded, his voice hot in your ear as he pressed his chest onto your back. At the same time he gave this sinful confession, he reached a hand down to find your swollen clit and touched you in just the right way, as if he had done it a million times before.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you came immediately.

”Oh—!”

In the haze of the most explosive pleasure you’ve ever felt, you registered three sensations at the same time.

First, wet jets of his expend painted the hot skin of your back.

Second, a rough hand clapped over your mouth, muffling the orgasmic scream of The Wolverine’s name that was ripping through your lungs.

Third, fireworks. You’ve never seen a man cum so hard that your powers registered an orgasm as fireworks. It was usually a quick flash of light like an old-school camera, but Logan came so hard that his pleasure was literally illuminating your senses like it was the 4th of July.

It was beautiful to witness.

And even more satisfying to participate in.

Breathless, speechless, and completely and thoroughly fucked, you turned around and simply grinned at the sexiest, horniest, hottest man you’ve ever had sex with.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to set up regular “Friday Fucknights” after that.

…

You slowly unfurled your clenched fists from the comforter that you didn’t know you were squeezing tight.

Goddammit.

All the memories of the first time you and Logan had sex made you decidedly horny. Even after Logan had given you a good rough fucking the night before.

Flashes of last night whipped through your brain.

Your face buried in the mattress, your moans disappearing into the fabric.

The cold breeze on your bare ass, raised up to meet Logan’s face.

The scruff of his beard rubbing against your skin.

His nose inhaling your sinful scent.

His lips and tongue eating you out for dessert after he surprised you with a date to a local steakhouse.

It was one of the few dates Logan spontaneously took you out on and it would always start the same way:

“Wanna go for a ride?” He’d ask you.

“Sure.” You’d reply.

And you’d end up at some isolated restaurant with Logan inhaling a monstrous slab of meat as you complained about all the teenage drama you were trying to counsel students through.

A few drinks and naughty kisses in the back corner booth later, the night always ended in your usual sex.

And you know you were clear to him that you just wanted the sex, no strings attached. You told him from the get-go that dating wasn’t really your thing. Due to the nature of your powers, you could never be sure if your partners actually loved you or if it was your love for them influencing how they felt about you. After all, if your powers influenced most mutants, then regular humans were even more susceptible.

But sex with Logan was perfect. Even those random dates were guilt-free and stress-free, because you could finally just be with someone who you didn’t have to worry about any of that with.

At the same time, Logan was intense. It was probably a good idea that you basically saw each other once a week for sex and stayed the hell out of his way the rest of the time.

Honestly? You could only handle The Wolverine in doses.

Between his traumatic hidden memories that emerged in daily nightmares…

And his overwhelming sexual desire for you…

The man was going to be the death of you.

…

A pained sound, almost like a whimper came from Logan. You could see a few beads of sweat break out on his forehead, and you quickly grabbed one of his clenched fists. Your hands gently rubbed over the knuckles where his blades lay hidden beneath a thin layer of skin. In a moment, Logan’s face relaxed and his eyes began to flutter open.

You sighed in relief.

Unfortunately, even though you could only handle Logan once a week, it was clear that Logan wanted you much more than that.

After that first month of Friday Fucknights, Logan had quickly figured out that spending the night with you acted as a natural sleep drug. He suspected it was your powers, or maybe it was just you.

Because somehow, when you were in his bed, he could finally wind down and slumber nightmare free. You noticed it too - his aura turned to a soft, amber yellow when he was sleeping next to you. The emotion of peace and contentment.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Logan murmured, his fingers now interlaced with yours. He brought your entwined hands up to his lips so he could press his lips to it.

Goddammit. There it was again.

The unmistakable feeling of love - pink, swirling wisps floating gently in the air. The smell of those quintessential roses and a deep warm fuzziness in your belly that felt like home.

Logan reeked of it.

…

You first noticed it at the date last night. You were complaining about some adolescent love triangle that Bobby and Rogue and Kitty had tangled themselves up in and Logan was teasing you about it. He was nursing a beer, chuckling as he laughed both at you and with you.

And there was a pause right after the laughter faded where you recognized the emotion he was feeling. You clocked it as soon as he took a sip of his bottle and looked right into your eyes.

Something that you hadn’t felt before from him.

Love.

You immediately deflected by saying something sexual to distract him from thinking too hard about what he felt and his aura quickly switched to that familiar red-hot lust.

That’s all you wanted from him.

That’s all you needed from him.

Right?

From there it was an illegally-fast motorcycle ride back to the mansion for some rough fucking.

…

Trying to hide your unease about his feelings, you hoped he didn’t notice the elongated pause before your reply this morning. Your thoughts were racing about the implications of The Wolverine falling in love with you.

You shouldn’t.

You couldn’t.

Fuck, you needed to distract him.

And yourself.

“Good morning, Logan” you finally snapped out of it and smiled at him. “You feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He opened your palm up and kissed it again, this time, giving your skin a little teasing lick.

“You were tossing in your sleep a little.” You explained, “but I’m about to make you feel all better.” Your voice dropped flirtatious and low.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” Logan’s lifted a brow as you burrowed under the blanket, feeling the waves of heat emanating off of him.

You quickly shimmied down until your face was right in front of his thick cock. After all the sex last night, Logan hadn’t bothered to put on clothes again before he fell asleep.

Neither had you.

Your tongue found his shaft first, while your hands gently caressed his balls. They felt heavy and warm in your palm as you licked up and down his cock.

Above you, Logan immediately twitched and grunted at your touch.

“Mmph - that’s—!” Logan could barely say.

“More?” You teased from under the covers.

“Y-yeah. Please, sweetheart. Give me more.” He groaned, one hand tangling itself to your hair. He gave you a slight, sharp tug that made your arousal flare up.

You took a deep breath before closing your mouth onto the head of his cock, and sucking hard and holding him hostage in return.

“Fuck!” Logan swore, blood rushing down to his member. You could feel him growing in girth, opening your jaw wider, your tongue sliding under him. You refused to let him go, hollowing out your cheeks, drawing him deeper until you had to surface for air.

“Yummy.” You grinned devilishly, swiping away the trail of saliva down your chin.

“My messy girl.” Logan pulled your chin closer until his lips pressed against your mouth. You threw the covers off of the both of you, and climbed on top of him.

“Mmm.” You moaned, his tongue was dancing with yours and it was driving you crazy. “As much as I love kissing you Logan, I think I’d rather ride you today.”

“Be my fucking guest.” Logan smiled against your mouth before releasing your face with a filthy wet smooch.

You admired the ripple of his abs as he leaned against the pillows, his huge arms thrown behind his head. The sight made you lick his taste off your lips, and liquid heat rushed to your core.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about all morning?”

You knelt beside him, your knees squeezing into his hips as you reached below you. God, he was huge. A fact you admired every time you took his substantial girth into your hand.

“What, sweetheart?” Logan gazed at you with a bemused expression on his face.

“The first time we had sex.” You continued. The head was breaching the tight ring of your pussy now.

“That was a great day.” Logan’s chest rose as he sucked in a breath, holding it as he watched you sink down until your bottom was flush to his strong thighs.

“That was a fucking incredible day.” You moaned at the feeling of being so full, so full of him. “And I was sitting pretty in your lap, just like I am right now.”

“Y-you spoil me, sweetheart.” Logan released his breath in a whoosh, his words starting to stutter just like his hips.

“Ah ah ah.” You pulled his hands away from your ass and up to your breasts. ”Don’t rush me.”

Logan responded with a frustrated groan, even as he kneaded your soft flesh and pinched your nipples.

“Fuck that’s good.” You praised him and rewarded him with a roll of your hips. You let his cock slide out only to suck it back in with your next movement.

“I want to feel you, Logan.” You leaned down to press a kiss onto his open mouth. “All of you.”

Without waiting any longer, you bounced your ass on top of his cock, suddenly riding him like your life depended on it.

Logan wrapped his arms around your back as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Expletives flying and a whole host of unseemly sounds spilled out of the both of you.

But nothing compared to the sweet sound of his cock and balls slapping against the soft cheeks of your bottom.

And the messy wet squelch of juices that were streaming out of your pussy and coating his length.

“S-sweetheart! I c-can’t!” Logan’s whine almost made you laugh. Your pussy was so good that it made The Wolverine beg to cum. What a fucking power trip.

“Cum for me Logan!” You encouraged him, your pussy was throbbing with need. Something animalistic was unlocking inside of you and you just had to feel his release inside of your cunt.

After all, you did say you wanted to feel all of him.

And that included his hot, delicious seed.

“Let me—” Logan started to pull you off of him before you grabbed his hands and ground down onto him.

“N-no!” You panted out, still bouncing on him hard. “Cum inside.”

Logan’s eyes widened. With a roar, he sat up and locked his arms around you, his hips jutting up into you once, twice, three times.

And you felt his cock release inside of you at last.

“Oh my god!” You bit into his shoulder, seeing fireworks again, not just for Logan, but for both of you. The room was heavy with the smell of sex and lust and sharp bursts of light that danced across your vision. You could vaguely feel yourself falling back down onto the bed with him, your cheek pressed into his hairy chest.

Your mind was somewhere in space, simply overwhelmed with sensation. This man, this mutant, this Wolverine, gave you the most explosive orgasms every time he fucked you.

Then, as if the sky had cleared after a storm, you saw the fireworks fizzle out. And creeping in from the corner of your eye, you saw it again. That pesky pink fog and the smell of roses.

Love.

…

“Goddamit Logan” you muttered out, lifting your head up to look at the man before you, and your heart immediately softened. His eyes were closed, chest falling and rising rapidly as he recovered. Seeing Logan in that post-sex glow always felt special to you.

He was beautiful.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Logan’s eyes shot open on high alert and he stiffened underneath you, picking up the annoyance in your tone.

You blew out a breath and pushed yourself up on his chest, staring at him before deciding what to say.

What to do.

What to feel.

Logan’s eyes darted across your face, searching for an answer as you battled internally. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks and your heart started to beat in double time.

Fuck it if he was falling for you.

You were addicted to this man.

You were not about to let him go.

“I can feel you, Logan.” You confessed, “I felt it last night, and just when you woke up, and right now.”

“What is it?” Confusion, and a hint of trepidation flashed across his face.

“Love.”

Logan’s brows shot up and he stared into your soul with wide, chocolate-brown eyes. But you stayed silent, waiting for him to deny it, confirm it, something.

With a rustle of sheets, Logan carefully sat up, and you with him. Then, he deliberately placed two warm, calloused palms on both sides of your hot cheeks.

And he kissed you gently.

So fucking gently.

Somehow, that simple kiss felt way more intimate than any of the sex the two of you had ever done.

“Would it be so bad if I loved you?” Logan asked in a low murmur against your lips.

In that instant, your mind recalled everything you loved about Logan.

His gentleness with the students, especially the ones that had powers that were more dangerous or harder to hide. He understood what it felt like to be an outsider. To be feared when you just wanted to belong.

His “I don’t give a fuck” energy when he did, in fact, give a lot of fucks about those he cared about. It showed up in the way he asked about how your week was, and patiently listened to all your complaints before taking you to bed. The way he noticed when you were stressed, or tired, or just needed the comfort of not being alone. The way he put your emotions first before his own.

His ridiculous reputation as the resident flirt, when he was actually so loyal to you. He might have made moves on Jean or Storm or every eligible and un-eligible lady at the school, but you were the only one he called “sweetheart.” You were the only one who saw what Logan looked like when he was afraid, when he was vulnerable. When he was in love.

And of course, his deep respect for Professor X, who he was always just a little bit more well-mannered for. He had changed so much since coming to the school. You could see it In the way he fought on X-missions even though he was so used to fighting for himself, by himself. Now, he was a soldier. A protector.

“No,” you slowly replied. You paused, and covered his hands with your own. ”It would be wonderful.”

Your ears were blessed with the most unbridled, joyful laugh from Logan as he smothered you with his 200 pound body and rained a cascade of kisses all over your skin.

Every press of his lips against your own felt like an I love you over and over again.

“Logan!” You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Stop!”

“I can’t,” Logan lifted your leg up to his shoulder and drove into your pussy. You were so overwhelmed with his emotion that you hadn’t even seen his cock engorge itself again.

“L-Logan!” You cried out his name again, this time in pleasure.

“I can’t help myself, sweetheart.” Logan kissed you soundly. “Not when I love you this much.”

You held his face, caressing his rough beard and staring into his eyes, shiny with emotion that mirrored your own.

“I love you, too.”

The rest of the morning, laughter and kisses and smiles flooded the room, basking the two of you in the soft, pink glow of the best emotion there is.

Love.

#logan #logan howlett #Logan smut #Logan fic #marvel #logan howlett smut #Logan X reader #Logan howlett fic #Logan howlett X reader #the wolverine #wolverine #the wolverine smut #the wolverine fic #logan x you #logan howlett fanfiction

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flowerbunnyboo · 3 months ago

Text

SEX WITH THE MASSEUSE | back

starring: oc (Adam) x male reader

summary: Adam is a masseuse who works at an infamous massage place. Adam himself is known to be quite infamous for what he does to his clients. However you don’t Adam nor the massage place. Being it your first time, Adam takes advantage and gives you the best mass of all time

nsfw

a/n: this is inspired by the Japanese massage videos. Iykyk. It’s a long fic

As you enter the dimly lit massage clinic, the air feels thick with tension and unspoken desires. The receptionist, a sultry vixen with a knowing smirk, directs you to the private room where your masseuse, Adam, awaits.

Stepping into the candlelit space, you're greeted by the soft sound of ambient music and the faint scent of essential oils. Adam, a handsome man with strong hands and a mischievous glint in his eye, welcomes you warmly. "Welcome, I’m Adam. Please make yourself comfortable and disrobe. I'll give you a few moments of privacy."

As the door clicks shut behind him, you slowly undress, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Sliding onto the heated massage table, you drape the flimsy towel over your bare bottom, leaving little to the imagination.

A few minutes later, Adam returns, his presence filling the room with an electric charge. He begins at your shoulders, his skilled hands kneading the tense muscles with firm pressure. As he works his way down your back, you feel the towel shift slightly, exposing more of your smooth skin to his touch.

"Just relax," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Let the tension melt away." His hands dip lower, ghosting over the curve of your ass before moving to your thighs. With each pass, the towel rides up a bit more, until it's barely covering your most intimate areas.

Suddenly, you feel the heat of Adam's body press against your backside as he straddles the table. His clothed erection nestles between your cheeks, sending a jolt of excitement through you. "My, my..."

Adam grinds subtly against you, his hardness evident even through the fabric of his pants. One hand slides around to your front, teasing along the edge of the towel. "It seems like someone is enjoying the massage already," he purrs suggestively in your ear.

The towel is suddenly whisked away, leaving you completely exposed. Adam's calloused hands caress your bare ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. “Such a perfect, ripe peach," he groans appreciatively. “I simply must taste..."

Without warning, he leans down and drags his tongue along your crack, circling your tight hole. The wet heat sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Mmm, delicious," Adam hums, lapping at you like a man starved.

Emboldened by your lack of resistance, Adam quickly sheds his own clothing, his impressive cock springing free. He positions himself at your entrance, the swollen head nudging insistently against your puckered hole. “Tell me what you want," he demands huskily, one hand gripping your hip while the other traces teasing circles around your rim. "Beg for my cock like the needy slut you are."

He punctuates his words with shallow thrusts, just entering you before pulling back out. The maddening tease has you clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. "Please...", you whimper, too far gone to care how needy you sound. “Fuck me, Adam. Use me. Ruin me for anyone else!"

With a triumphant growl, Adam pushes himself fully inside you with one powerful thrust. Your walls stretch deliciously around his thick girth as he starts up a relentless pace, pounding into you with animalistic fervor. “Fuck yes, take it all!", he moans, adjusting his hips to nail your prostate dead-on with every snap of his hips.

The obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and Adam's grunts of exertion. He leans over you, blanketing your smaller frame with his larger one as he ruts into you like a man possessed. “This tight little hole belongs to me now," Adam pants hotly against your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin.

You are feeling a next level of ecstasy. You had no idea that a simple massage session would turn like this.

Adam's rhythm becomes erratic as he nears his peak, his balls tightening against your taint. With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and stills, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in your guts. “Fuuuck, take my load!" he roars, painting your insides white with his thick seed.

Panting harshly, Adam collapses onto your back, his softening member still plugging you up. After a moment, he carefully pulls out, a trickle of cum leaking from your well-used hole. "Stay right there," he instructs, giving your ass a sharp smack before moving to grab something.

You try to catch your breath after that amazing sex session.

Returning, Adam drizzles warm oil over your reddened cheeks and abused entrance.

Adam begins to massage the oil into your skin, his slick fingers probing and stretching your sensitive hole. He works the combined fluids - his cum mixed with the oil - into your passage, ensuring you're thoroughly coated and relaxed.

"That's it, nice and loose for me," he teases, scissoring two fingers inside you. You feel extremely relaxed as he lathers his cum and oil on you. "Gonna make sure this greedy hole is ready for round two."

Removing his fingers with a lewd squelch, Adam flips you over onto your back. He takes a moment to admire your debauched state - hair mussed, skin flushed, cock hard and leaking against your stomach.

"Look at you, covered in my cum and practically begging for more," he taunts, giving your shaft a few teasing strokes. "Such a perfect little fucktoy."

Adam settles between your spread legs, his renewed erection prodding demandingly at your slick entrance. With a wicked grin, he reaches out to grab your thighs, pushing them back towards your chest to expose you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Keep these legs spread for me," he orders, lining himself up once more. “Wanna watch myself disappear into this sloppy asshole again and again until you're overflowing with my seed."

His words are so filthy that it makes you hard instantly to the point you’re almost leaking precum.

Without further preamble, Adam oushes himself inside you to the gut in one smooth glide. He sets a deep, rolling rhythm, grinding against your prostate with every pass. The new angle allows him to reach even deeper, hitting places that make stars explode behind your eyelids. “Fuck, could stay buried in this sweet ass forever," he groans, picking up speed.

Lost in a haze of pleasure, you can only moan and writhe beneath Adam's relentless assault. Your neglected cock bobs with each powerful thrust, smearing precum across your stomach. Adam notices your desperation and reaches out to wrap his hand around your shaft, stroking in time with his increasingly frantic hips.

"That's it, let go," he urges breathlessly, his thumb swiping over the weeping slit of your dick. “Paint yourself with your own cum while I fill this hole to the brim. Wanna see you absolutely drenched in our juices when I'm done wrecking this hole."

Adam angles his hips sharply, determined to push you both over the edge. The obscene squelch of his cock plunging into your slick channel mixes with your broken cries and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin.

The coil of tension in your gut winds tighter and tighter, your balls drawing up close to your body as your impending orgasm builds. Adam feels you start to flutter and clench around him, your body betraying your imminent release.

“C'mon baby, give it to me," he growls, his hand flying over your cock as he pistons into you with wild abandon. “Soak yourself in it while I pump you full!"

With a strangled cry, you come undone, your vision whiting out as ecstasy crashes through you. Thick ropes of white cum erupt from your twitching shaft, splattering across your chest and face.

At the same time, Adam pushes himself one last time and explodes, flooding your spasming channel with what feels like gallons of his hot seed. “FUCK YES, TAKE IT ALL!"

Panting heavily, Adam collapses on top of you, his softening cock still nestled inside your cum-filled hole. He nuzzles into the sweat-damp crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your racing pulse.

“Mmm, so good," he mumbles, voice rough with satisfaction. “Knew this ass would feel amazing wrapped around my dick."

After a long moment, Adam carefully pulls out, watching with a smug grin as another gush of his release leaks from your gaping, puffy rim. He scoops some up with his fingers and brings them to your lips.

“Clean up the mess you made, slut," he commands, tracing the sticky digits along your bottom lip. “Then get that pretty mouth on my cock. Gonna fuck your throat raw next."

With a submissive whimper, you part your lips and suck Adam's fingers into your mouth, obediently cleaning them of your shared essence. The musky taste of sex explodes across your tongue, stoking the embers of your desire despite your recent climax.

Once his fingers are spotless, you release them with a wet pop, looking up at Adam with lust-hazed eyes. “Yes sir," you breathe, voice hoarse from your earlier cries. “Want your cock in my mouth. Want to choke on it like the dirty boy I am."

Sitting up, you shuffle closer on your knees until you're eye level with Adam's already rehardening length. You nuzzle into his pelvis, inhaling deeply of his heady scent before dragging your tongue along the underside of his shaft in a slow lick from base to tip.

Adam shudders at the sensation of your tongue trailing along his sensitive flesh, his cock jumping and beginning to swell with renewed arousal. He tangles a hand in your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he guides you to take him into your mouth.

“That's it, worship my dick like the eager little cockslut you are," he praises huskily, slowly pushing past your lips to rest on your tongue.

He sets a steady rhythm, rocking his hips to fuck your face with shallow thrusts. The thick head of his cock nudges the back of your throat with each pass, making you gag slightly around his girth. “Take it deeper, slut. Relax that throat for me," Adam demands, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head.

“Wanna feel those insides wrapped around my cock as I use your mouth."

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you force yourself to relax your jaw and throat, allowing Adam to sink deeper into the tight clutch of your throat.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you maintain eye contact, silently urging him to use you harder. The bulbous head of his cock pushes past your tonsils and lodges firmly in your gullet, stretching you deliciously around his throbbing shaft.

"Fuck yes, just like that," Adam groans, holding you in place with your nose pressed to his pelvis. His heavy balls rest against your chin as he grinds into your face, savoring the exquisite heat engulfing him.

"Such a good little cocksucker, taking me so deep. Bet this is what you were born for, isn't it? To be a set of holes for me to ruin?"

Adam holds you there, buried in your throat, relishing the feeling of your muscles fluttering around his aching cock. After several long moments, he finally releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to pull back and gasp for air.

“Again," he commands roughly, fisting his dripping shaft and slapping the slick head against your swollen lips. “Choke on my cock like you mean it this time. Wanna feel you struggling for breath as I fuck your face raw."

He uses his hold on your hair to yank you forward, immediately setting a brutal pace. Adam's hips snap forward violently, driving his thick meat down your spasming throat over and over. Drool escapes the corners of your stretched mouth, running down your chin and coating your heaving chest.

Adam continues his relentless assault on your throat, grunting with exertion and pleasure as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight.

Your eyes water profusely now, tears streaking down your cheeks as you struggle to accommodate his punishing pace. Just as spots begin to dance in your vision, he abruptly pulls out, allowing you to collapse forward and gulp down desperate lungfuls of air.

“Nngh, fuck... so close," he pants, giving his spit-slick shaft a few quick pumps. “Gonna paint that pretty face with my load. Open wide, slut - here it comes!"

Throwing his head back with a loud moan, Adam aims his cock at your features. Thick, creamy ropes of cum erupt from the flared tip, splattering across your forehead, cheeks, and parted lips.

As the last spurts of Adam's release paint your face, he smears the excess into your skin with the tip of his softening cock, marking you thoroughly with his scent and essence.

“Look at you, covered in spunk and drooling all over yourself," he taunts breathlessly, admiring his handiwork. "Such a perfect little cum dump. I think I'll keep you like this - glazed and used, ready for the next round whenever I want."

Adam tucks himself away and flops onto the bed beside you, pulling your messy body flush against his side. He captures your lips in a filthy kiss, tongue delving into your mouth to taste himself on your lips and tongue. “Rest up, pet. When I wake up later, I expect this ass ready and waiting for more."

#bottom male reader #male reader #flowers fics #male x male #x male reader #bottom male reader smut #oc #oc x male reader smut #oc x bottom male reader #oc x male reader #oc x reader #oc x male #oc smut #massage sex

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saintobio · 7 months ago

Text

the art of loving, feat. l&ds rafayel.

pairings. rafayel, fem!reader genre. fluff, smut, established relationship, 18+ tags. artist x muse, hints of abandonment issues, clingy bf!rafayel, allusions to nude paintings, fellatio, cum eating, protected sex, praise kink notes. my third l&ds boy :’) there’s a full blown sylus oneshot coming but for now, i have to write abt our cute fish! i’ll continue the jjk wips on the weekend bcos my l&ds hyperfixation is currently taking over 🤧

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who makes you the muse of his paintings. he loves how he can adore your face while turning his blank canvas into something as colorful as you. it all started when he used to sketch you when you’re not looking. and it’s a habit that he, time and time again, still does. whether you’re reading, sleeping, or simply lost in thought, he finds these moments precious and captures them in his sketchbook. he actually has a dedicated corner of you on his mo art studio, where it’s filled with paintings and sketches of his beautiful girlfriend.

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who loves to paint with you. he’ll set up a canvas next to his and guide your hands, laughing together as you create something… unique. look, he’s not making fun of your painting. in fact, he’d say you’re actually very talented. “it’s not bad at all,” he’d claim, “it’s an exquisite art… if i close my eyes.” how mean! but honestly, if you were to sell your artwork, he would still be the first person to buy it.

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who gets playful with paint. while you’re on the subject of ‘painting together��, you know how cheeky rafayel is, and when he dabs a bit of paint on your nose or cheeks, the light-hearted paint fight ends in messy, colorful kisses. one time, he even left a purple handprint on your bum, and giggles each time he sees it from behind.

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who gets clingy when you’re busy. he’ll sulk if he feels you’re not paying enough attention to him, often wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling into your neck to remind you he’s there. he can very grumpy, too. like a spoiled brat who he didn’t get what he wants. it’s just that he dislikes the feeling of being ignored and abandoned, so the last thing you knew not to do is make him wait too long on your dates or make him feel like your mind is occupied by anything else other than him. because he’d go as far as pretending to be in a helpless situation just so you’d drop everything and run off to him. how silly!

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who surprises you with personalized art gifts. from small sketches slipped into your bag to full portraits given on special occasions. it’s his way of expressing his love, because he’s very grateful of how supportive you are when he has art exhibits. your presence calms his nerves, and he always looks for you in the crowd to find strength in your encouraging smiles.

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who likes to cuddle while discussing his latest ideas. he enjoys your input and loves bouncing ideas off you. his hands like to roam around your body as he keeps you in bed all day, whispering sweet nothings into you ear and making the atmosphere warm and intimate. “i can’t help it!”was his usual excuse whenever you’d call him out for being too touchy. “sometimes, my inspirations come in the form of physical intimacy, you know!”

࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who can’t resist kissing you passionately when he’s inspired. he sketches you in intimate moments, letting you lie beautifully naked in bed and with only a blanket to cover the lower half of your body, like a vulnerable mermaid looking to be held by her prince. he’ll pull you close, hands covered in paint, leaving colorful fingerprints and delicate patterns on your skin as his lips capture yours in a heated kiss. he would peel the blanket off you slowly, taking his sweet time as if memorizing every dip and curve to later recreate in his art. his touch is both tender and electrifying. and his expressions, both raw and passionate as he eyes every inch of your body.

⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who whispers his deepest desires in your ear. his voice becomes husky with emotions, telling you exactly what he wants, and leaving you blushing and eager to feed him the attention he seeks. he’s very needy, indeed. but most especially in bed. he’d often grab your hand, allowing you to brush it against his toned chest and down to his… aching member. it’s begging to be released, you both know it. and so when he guides your head closer to his crotch, you already know what ‘job’ you had to do for him.

⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who whines a lot while you’re pleasing him, but in a cute way. he’s just very vocal about it. he’s incapable of keeping his little moans whenever he feels your tongue rolling around his tip, your lips leaving open-mouthed kisses along the sides of his length. it’s like suction when you fully take him into your mouth, the image of your head bobbing to suck his cock is extremely vivid in his head. “mhm~ don’t stop.” rafayel loses his mind over it. “my darling, lover girl. you’re so pretty, my baby.” and when you’d allow him to cum inside your mouth, he’s a weak man watching you swallow every single drop.

⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who respects your boundaries and doesn’t push you to try things in bed that you’re not comfortable with. when you told him he can’t do you raw, he willingly obliged. so, lo and behold the huge box of condoms on his nightstand. he believes in practicing safe sex because you both aren’t ready for that kind of responsibility yet. but that doesn’t lessen the frequency of your activities in bed. in fact, his beloved box of rubbers would easily run out after 2-3 weeks.

⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who likes to be praised when doing the deed with you. it’s just innate in him. you have to let him know if he’s doing good, have to let him hear how great he feels inside of you, how pretty he looks when you gaze down on him, and how amazing his hands are in finding your most sensitive places. “raf, you’re the best at this,” you’d moan into his mouth, the sound of skin-slapping echoing across his studio as you feel him racing through his climax, “s-so good, ngh~” he’s one to smile at your little whimpers. “yeah, you like where i’m hitting it, baby?” “haa—i do!” “thought so.”

⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who wants to be displayed all over your social media accounts. it’s as straightforward as he is—he wants his face to take over your account. he wants to know that you’re proud of him and that you’re showing off your handsome boyfriend whenever you can. he also wants you to interact with his posts, leave comments, and hit the heart button. every. single. time. he gets easily sulky if sees you ignoring his cute posts about you. that’s just how he is, and it doesn’t frustrate you one bit, because he just loves being the center of your world in exchange for treating you the center of his. that was the art of loving rafayel.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lads rafayel #l&ds rafayel #rafayel smut #rafayel fluff #l&ds headcanons

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ikkyfics · 1 month ago

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Home Charm

James Potter x reader

Summary: James Potter, the devoted and loving father, transforms every moment into magic and love with his enchanted family.

Warnings: none

A/N: anon, hope you like it <333

Masterlist

• James loves making you laugh and uses every opportunity to tease you in a cute way. He might steal a kiss in the middle of an argument or tickle you until you beg for mercy. Life with him is always light and fun.

• He deeply values your partnership. For any important decision, he always checks with you first, making it clear that your opinion is the most important to him.

• James never misses a chance to steal a kiss. Whether you’re in the middle of a sentence, distracted with a book, or even complaining about something, he simply can’t resist. “You had that irresistible look, love, I had to do it,” he says with a mischievous smile, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

• James is such a soft dad that just hearing the kids say “daddy” for the first time made him emotional. He tells everyone about it — Sirius had lost count of how many times he’d heard the same story. “My kid said I’m the best dad in the world yesterday. I’m not saying it’s true, but I’m not denying it either,” he jokes with a smile that lights up his entire face.

• If one of the kids mentions liking something, even if it’s a small detail, James jumps into action. “You like chocolate frogs? Great, now we have an entire collection.” He fills the shopping cart with anything he thinks the kids will love, only realizing the excess when you laugh while trying to find space in the house to store everything.

• For James, physical touch is a form of love. He wraps his arm around your waist whenever you’re together, as if he needs to make sure you’re there. When you’re cooking, he leans against the counter just to watch, but never without first running his hands over your shoulders or waist. He pulls you close with the excuse of “needing to taste something” you’re making, but in reality, he just wants you in his arms.

• He has the habit of complimenting you out of nowhere, especially in public, as if he can’t hold back how he feels. “Are you all seeing this? How did I marry the most beautiful woman in the world?” he jokes with his friends, but his look is completely serious. You might roll your eyes, but the sparkle in his smile always melts you.

• James has a smile unlike any other, one he reserves only for you. It’s the kind of smile that makes it feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters, full of tenderness and adoration.

• Even without music, James finds an excuse to make you twirl around the room. Whether it’s after a long day or just because he thinks you need a smile, he takes your hand and leads you in an exaggerated way, as if you’re the stars of a ballroom. When you protest, he just laughs and insists, saying, “You know I won’t stop until I get a smile, right?”

• He has the habit of pulling you into a long kiss, especially when you’re in a rush to leave. “Just one more, please,” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours after, still a little out of breath and with shiny lips. Of course, this results in you both being late more often than you’d like, but who can resist him?

• He loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his sweaters and shirts. When he notices you’re cold, he doesn’t wait for you to ask — he just wraps you in one of his huge coats and puts his arms around you like a human blanket. “Much better this way, don’t you think?” he whispers in your ear, though it doesn’t take long before he removes his clothes from you.

• The king of excuses to hug you. “You don’t look comfortable in that chair,” he comments, pulling you onto his lap with ease. “You know what would be better? Sitting here.” He does this anywhere: in the living room, the backyard, showering your neck with kisses that fluster you.

• James knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on the toughest days. He might mimic voices, make faces, or even create hilarious imaginary scenes with objects around. His goal, he swears, is always to hear you laugh, because “if you’re laughing, I’m winning at life.”

• When you’re sick or tired, James becomes your loving caretaker. He brings tea, makes soup, and wraps you in blankets. “You just need to tell me what you want, my love, and I’ll do it,” he insists, even if his soup attempt ends up being more funny than delicious.

• James loves telling the story of the day he met you. He does it with such enthusiasm that it feels like he’s reliving the moment every time, emphasizing how you captivated him right away. “I knew from that instant I was lost,” he confesses, while you roll your eyes, but your heart races anyway.

• No matter how tired he is, James never forgets to give you a kiss before bed. He pulls you close, whispers something sweet or funny, and kisses your forehead, cheek, and finally your lips. “Good night, my life,” he says with so much affection that it feels like you’re in the arms of the whole world.

• When the kids scribble on the house walls, you try to be firm about the rules, but James shows up with a mischievous look. “You know, they were just expressing their creativity,” he argues while trying to scrub the marks. In the end, he ends up sitting in time-out with them, admitting that “he was an accomplice to the art.”

• During your pregnancy, James had the habit of lying next to you and talking to the baby, even when it seemed silly. He would talk about how excited he was to meet the baby, or make up funny stories about teaching the baby to fly. When he felt the baby move, his eyes would shine in a way that made you fall even more in love.

• Before bed, James turns simple stories into epic adventures. He does all the voices for the characters, makes exaggerated gestures, and even creates a soundtrack with light spells. Even if the kids are exhausted, they always ask for “just one more story, daddy.”

• When you say no to something the kids want, James does his best to negotiate on their behalf. “Love, they just want to build a fort in the middle of the living room. And look, they’ve already assigned me as the troll guarding the entrance. I can’t disappoint my adventurers,” he says with an irresistible look.

• Even on days when the kids make a mess or are in a bad mood, James stays calm. He believes every behavior has a reason and prefers to resolve things with conversations and playfulness rather than scolding. When one of the kids cries, he immediately sits next to them, saying, “It’s okay, champ. What’s wrong? Daddy’s here.”

• James never misses a chance to shower the kids with affection. He hugs them, kisses their cheeks, and messes up their hair. “You know I love you, right?” he says daily, because he believes it’s important for them to grow up knowing how adored they are.

• James loves creating little traditions. Every Friday night, he organizes “pajama parties” in the living room, where you watch Muggle movies (courtesy of Remus) and eat enchanted popcorn that changes flavor. At Christmas, he always dresses up as Santa, even though the kids already know it’s him.

• He completely surrenders to playtime. If that means getting covered in paint or glitter, James doesn’t mind. To him, the kids’ laughter is worth any effort. Later, he makes sure to help them clean up, singing made-up songs to make the moment fun.

• James makes sure to emphasize how amazing the kids are. “Did you know you’re the smartest wizard that ever existed?” or “That was the most impressive defense I’ve ever seen in a Quidditch match! And trust me, I’ve seen a lot of Quidditch.” He believes every day is a new chance to make the kids feel special.

• James makes sure to show you how much he loves you in front of the kids. He says “I love your mom” whenever he can, believing this will teach them what a healthy relationship looks like. He believes raising kids in a home full of love and laughter is the greatest gift he can give them.

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latenightdaydreams · 9 months ago

Note

I have an idea that firefighter!Konig meets reader on a mission, but she's a heavy sleeper who's sleepong naked and unaware that the building is on fire. I'll leave the rest for you. I know I'll sending you a lot of requests, so it's okay if you ignore them or don't have time to do it. Take care❤️🎀

This😮‍💨 lordy what a naughty man

Firefighter!König x Sleeping!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

🩷

>cw: fem/afab, photos, somno, non-con, touching

1.0k word count

König has been a firefighter for the last 23 years. He has seen a lot of things over the years; some sad and others were happy events. From losing someone in the fire to saving a dog from the flames. Today, he saw something completely unexpected though.

The call came in that there was a local apartment building that had caught fire. The fire started in a top floor apartment and began to spread. He showed up with two other trucks to try and contain the fire. His men worked on evacuating the building. He ran up to the fourth floor and was helping families to the stairway before turning to his men.

One young woman in pajamas came rushing up to König with a worried look on her face, her voice rushed as she was shaking.

“My roommate’s door was locked and I couldn’t get it open! She is still in her room!”

König nods, “What apartment?”

“413!”

“Okay, go with my men to safety, I’ll make sure your friend is safe. I promise.” He reassured the scared woman before walking past her to her apartment.

He opened the door and began to look around, he went down the narrow hallway to what he assumes is the bedrooms. He looks at the photos on the wall of your roommate and you traveling. His eyes linger on a beach photo of the two of you before turning his head forward and seeing your locked door.

He knocks, just to make sure you aren’t awake and near the door. No answer. He reaches for his crowbar and easily pops the locked door open. He walks in to see your dark room illuminated by the right red and white light of the fire trucks outside your window.

He walks up to your bed side and notices the blankets kicked off of you, and you're naked. His eyes drift to your breasts pooling on your chest as you rest on your back and the small mound between your legs. He lets out a deep breath before nudging you lightly.

“Miss, there is a fire.” He says in a calm voice, but you don’t budge.

He nudges you again, your breasts jiggling as he does as it’s all he can focus on. Your breasts are simply perfect, your nipples hard from the cold air circulating in the room. So many thoughts rush through his mind as he looks down at your stunning body. He shouldn’t have these thoughts; he shouldn’t even still be standing here just looking at you. He should wrap you up in a blanket and move you down stairs until the fire is extinguished. Yet, he lingers over you. Just watching as his erection grows.

Reaching out to nudge you again, you don’t respond. König looks around the room, noticing it’s slightly messy with clothes and books. A laptop on your desk with college textbooks stacked neatly next to it. Stepping out of the bedroom he looks around and sees no one else has entered the apartment since he came in to find you. Good.

“Miss?” He pulls his gloves off and reaches out to nudge you again, this time slightly rougher. Still no response.

His hand trails up your arm, feeling how soft your skin is against his. A voice in his head yelling at him that he isn’t supposed to be touching you. He’s here to help, but he just can’t resist. His hand travels to your shoulder before drifting across your collarbone. Slowly his hand drifts lower…

Fingers gently gliding around your breast until he reaches your nipple. He glides the back of his fingers over them and circling your breast before moving back up and twisting your nipple between his two fingers gently. He looks at your face to see if you’re responding to this, but you aren’t. You’re still asleep.

He opens his hand to cup your breast and gently squeezes it. So, so soft. Perfect. Lifting off his helmet, he lowers his head and flicks his tongue over your nipple. Grabbing it between both of his lips and sucking gently. Moving his head to your other breast and doing the same. His hand begins to wander down your stomach to the soft patch of hair between your legs. His fingers softly petting you before moving lower.

Feeling your little clit, moving his finger in small circles over it before moving his fingers between your folds until you started to get wet. His eyes are still on your face making sure that you don’t wake up. Still asleep. Jesus this woman’s a heavy sleeper…

His fingers now covered in your wet, he brings them up to his nose to smell before licking his fingers. You taste so sweet, smell so incredible. What he wouldn’t do to nuzzle his face between your thighs and tongue fuck you with his fat and long tongue, but he can’t.

Reaching into his pocket under his coat, he pulls out his cellphone. He takes a few photos of your breast, of your pussy, your full body, and your sleeping drooling face. He wishes so much he could have more.

Putting his phone away, he puts back on his helmet and gloves. He covers you with the blanket and speaks very loudly now.

“Miss. I’m a fireman, there is a fire.” He begins to lift your body as he wraps you in the blanket to be able to carry you since you’re still asleep.

He begins to walk out of the bedroom door with you as you slowly begin to wake up. You look up confused before seeing the fireman helmet of the person holding you, his eyes meet yours.

“I’m sorry but you wouldn’t wake up and there is a fire in the building. Nothing major, but we need the building to be clear just in case.”

“I understand.” You say feeling groggy, you had drank sleepy time tea shortly before this happened so your body is still exhausted.

König carries you down the four flights of stairs to get you down and outside. He walks you to the firetruck and lets you sit; the door opens and you’re sitting sideways, your legs dangling. König stands next to you.

“Are you okay, miss?” He asks because of how out of it you still seem.

“I’m okay, just very tired. Thank you for carrying me… and for letting me sit here.”

“Of course, anything to help.” He smiles at you.

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lilaccmilk · 10 months ago

Text

@lulz-nematode-belmont ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 and i'm sorry this took soooo long.

Since you were little you've always feared monsters and the dark. Especially the monster under your bed. But as you grew up, you managed to convince yourself that it was just a myth. But now, as you've moved to your new house, over the course of past few months, you feel that the monster under the bed thing wasn't just a myth to scare children.

You wake up in the morning, not even remembering when you went to bed, with bruises on your thighs and your pussy sore. You tried setting up a camera, but "somehow" the camera didn't record anything except darkness.

This time around, you're prepared to stay awake the entire night, so you get in your bed and close your eyes. After almost an hour, you feel your blanket being pulled down from over you. You remain still, and you feel giant hands on your thighs spreading your legs apart.

You feel a presence hover over you, and suddenly you switch on the lights, just to see a tall dark figure, he looks almost like a human, except he has a skin that matches the darkness of the night, his hair as white as snow. His face is pleasing to look at. Even the razor sharp teeth, you feel safe with him around, he starts to retreat wide eyed, but your voice stops him— "You've been visiting me?"

"Yeah" he replies kind of guilty. "I'm not....mad, just surprised" you laugh. "What have you been doing in your visits?" you add on. "I've been fucking you with my tongue. Couldn't resist" he speaks softly.

You blush at his straightforwardness about what he had been doing. Honestly you didn't mind, just hoped that you could've stayed awake while he was busy eating you out. "You're aroused?"he grunts. Your eyes widen, how could he sense that? You, yourself couldn't. "Am I?" you ask to no one in particular.

"Yeah, more so than the other days." he replies anyways. "Now what?" you question to him. "I can leave if you want me to, but if you want me to stay, just know you'll never get rid of me. You will be mine and I will be yours." he replies, his voice turning dark at the end.

You pause for a bit and then just say one word, "Stay." And all hell breaks loose, you're on your back, legs spread, shorts ripped apart and him face to face with your cunt. You try to close your legs out of shyness but he holds them apart, his voice rough as he speaks "Don't try hiding yourself from me, sunshine. You're all mine."

He then wordlessly licks up your pussy. His teeth carefully toy with your clit. He eats you out with so much vigor, it makes your back arch off the bed, and he pins you down by your hips to the bed. He gets so messy, it's like he's eating you out for his own pleasure rather than yours. He continues his ministrations on your poor cunt and you cum around his tongue. He keeps on going until you come 3-4 times more.

"I think that's enough for you tonight. yeah?" He speaks. You're too tired to say anything and wordlessly pull him closer to you to cuddle him.

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster smut #monster x human #tw teratophilia #teratophillia #terato #monster under the bed #monster #monster bf #monster romance #monster x reader #monster x you #tw monsterfucking #monsterfucking nsft #monster nsft

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luveline · 2 months ago

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Hii, Jade 🤍 please bring back singledad!spencer, reader and Amanda 🥹 they r so special

—Spencer experiences your first Spencer-brought-upon baby fever, to his shock. fem, 2k

(cw: reader is written as enthusiastically wanting kids)

Spencer’s been reading to Amanda since the moment she could open her eyes. By two months she was cooing in delight whenever he spoke, and that included during story time. He didn’t mind that she didn’t understand, he just loved being with her. He still does.

So when Amy interrupts your conversation to beg for him to read her something, he gives you an apologetic look, asking, “Do you mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t, you’re like an angel, leaning back on the couch with little urgency as Amy climbs into Spencer’s lap.

“Thank you. Sorry for interrupting,” Amy says.

“Gosh, you’re so smart,” Spencer says, tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear. “Interrupting, that’s a big word.”

“Go ahead,” you say, getting comfortable in front of one of Spencer’s woven cushions. “I’ll listen too, if that’s okay.”

Spencer opens the storybook to the first page. Amy likes this one. The corners of the pages are soft with use. “Cerys’ Brave Day,” he begins, grinning as Avery pushes herself up his chest to look down at the illustrations. “Cerys wakes up without mommy. Cerys makes her own way out of bed. There is no mommy to wipe her face or brush her hair. My mommy, she thinks, is not there.”

Amy smiles into Spencer’s cheek. He wraps an arm around her, as if to say, I know, angel, it’s exciting. “Her mommy must be having a slow day. She doesn’t appear to give Cerys any help. And Cerys says–”

“No way!” Amy finishes, pointing at the drawing of a bathroom sink and toothbrush. “I don’t want to brush my teeth by myself!”

It goes on like that for some time. Spencer notices you getting closer as he goes on, your arm pressing to his side.

Cerys finds that her mommy is having a slow day. Cerys’ mommy is just as loving as the other mom’s, but sometimes she takes longer to help Cerys brush her hair, and get dressed. Cerys has to be a brave, smart girl, and help her mommy with the small things. Spencer enjoys it, and thought it was a great expression of empathy for Amy to one day understand.

“Later, when mommy feels better, she says I’m sorry for being so slow. Mommy didn’t mean to forget her, she just struggles to get up and go.

“Cerys doesn't want her to be sorry. She loves helping her mommy out. Because mommy loves Cerys, and Cerys loves mommy, and that’s never been in any doubt.”

Amy turns her face to Spencer with a huge smile, somehow bigger than when it started. “I love that story,” she says.

Spencer lets the storybook fall closed in her lap. “It’s a good one, huh?”

“What do you think, Y/N?” Amy asks.

You’re delighted by Amy in a way Spencer’s used to seeing in the mirror. “I loved it. Daddy’s a good storyteller, and you’re such a good assistant. You know lots of the big words.”

She preens. “Thanks.”

You can’t resist her, pushing against the top of her head with a nice palm. “You’re welcome.”

“Can we have another one?” she asks.

Spencer checks the time on his watch. Amy realised it was bedtime before he did, it seems. “Come on, lovely girl. Let’s start getting ready for bed, and you can have any story you want.”

He’s obviously not expecting you to leave, but at the same time, things are new enough between you that when he asks if you want to sleepover, your grinning “Yes, please,” throws him for a loop.

You have spare clothes and toiletries in the bedroom. You ask to take a quick shower and get all smiley and shy when he says you never have to ask.

“So dad,” Amy says.

“So Amy,” he says, pulling down the blankets on her bed. She has five layers because suddenly November is cold. He wonders if she needs a sixth.

“I can’t sleep in the big bed tonight.”

“Well, that depends on how badly you want to.”

“Really?”

“You’ve known Y/N for a long time, right? She’s been my friend for a long time, before she was my partner. I think she’d be okay with having you sleep in the big bed again if you need to. It was your place before it was her place, and she knows that.”

“Well…”

He grabs her under the arms and places her in bed. She could use her stepping stool, but he likes picking her up and putting her down. It makes him feel super paternal. “Just think about it, angel. If you change your mind, you can just come and knock the door.

“Promise?”

“Honey.” He kisses her forehead twice, before pulling the blankets up over her, and turning on her mushroom night light. “How’s that? Okay, I promise you can still come knock my door. Cross my heart.”

“Can you stay for a little?” she asks.

Spencer sits on her bed by her legs. They feel weirdly small under his hand despite the padding he’s given her. “Babe, are you sure you’re warm enough? This does not feel like enough blankets.”

“It’s loads. Give me a hug.”

Spencer lays down in her bed, almost falls off, and covers her with his arm. Their curls tangle together on the pillowcase.

“Like this?” he asks.

“Exactly.”

“Amy, you’re using such big words, you’re so smart.” He’s gonna take her for an assessment at some point. He doesn’t care if she’s super intelligent or not, but lately it’s like she’s so much older than she is. A few days ago she said the word discombobulated. “My smarty-pants.”

“I like big words,” she says.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Remember what Amanda means?” he asks.

Amy giggles as he shakes her by the tummy. “She who must be loved.”

“Exactly. Loved by everyone, deserving of love. Always, from the second you were born!” He leans down to kiss her cheek, meeting her eyes as he pulls back. “Okay?”

She certainly feels loved, he’d wager. He loves her so much it’s like an extra part of his soul in another person. “Story?” she asks.

“Yes, I did say we’d have one, didn’t I?” He’d almost forgotten. Spencer grabs a couple of her soft backs from the book stand and lets her choose.

After he’s read a few books and given her a couple of cuddles, Amy begins to list. She presses her nose to his shoulder and mumbles something he doesn’t hear.

“What did you say, sweetpea?” he mumbles.

“Just goo’night.”

“Goodnight. I’ll tuck you in, okay?”

“Spence?”

He’d almost forgot you were here. You’re standing in the doorway, arms still damp, pyjama pants stuck to your calves. “Where’s the fire?” he asks.

“What?”

“In a rush?”

“Oh, I just wanted to hear story time. Did I miss it?”

Spencer kisses Amy again. “I think so. I’m just saying goodnight.”

You lean against the door. “Goodnight, then, lovely girl.”

Spencer forces himself up to tuck her in. “Goodnight,” he says again, stroking the hair from her eyes, though they’re closed already. She doesn’t manage to say goodnight back, just touches his arm before he goes.

You take his hand when he’s close enough. He follows, pressing his face to your shoulder from behind.

“I like watching you be a dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm, you’re good at it. It’s… I don’t know, I know Amy isn’t my baby, but I do love her, so it’s never not gonna be nice to watch you, and… I’m worried to say this.”

“Just say it.”

“Maybe one day, I…” You catch his eye and give him a panicked smile.

You climb into bed together. He tries to get you to finish what you’d been saying but doesn’t succeed, no matter how nicely he draws that shape you love into your neck. It’s alright, though. It doesn’t matter. He nearly forgets you’ve brought it up at all until you’re lifting yourself up from your place on his chest. “Spence?” you ask, so close it makes him nervous, his stomach twitching of its own volition.

“What?” he asks.

“I know it’s soon. I know we’re not… locked in. I was just thinking about our future and our family, and I’m really happy. And– and if you did want to, I guess I wanna know if… would you ever have more?”

“More kids?” he asks, dumbfounded.

Your pupils are massive, staring down at him, giving your eyes this darkness so rare in your gaze. “Have you ever thought about it?”

“Of course I have, especially with you.”

You fluster but push through. Your laugh warms his lips as you lean down. “Don’t say that.”

“Isn’t that what you just said?”

You kiss him. He lifts his chin too fast to follow you and ends up pushing you away. His cheek is burning in your hand, your index finger to the corner of his eye and so, so tender where it touches an eyelash. “Amy’s so much like you, honey,” you say, tucking a long flyaway strand behind his ear. “And it’s all you.”

Spencer wonders if you’re perhaps entering the ovulation stage of your period, but forbids himself from asking, should he sound like a freak. But surely you can’t be feeling as strongly as you are about this from story time alone. He’s not that good at telling them.

“It’s not all me. Amy’s herself, and she’s parts of everyone she’s ever met. I think she’s been a lot braver since she met you,” Spencer says.

He’s not sure what he said there, but you peer down at him like he’s entirely new.

“Spencer,” you murmur, drawing a line across his cheek.

“I’d love to have a baby with you, I just thought saying that might be too much too soon.”

“Well, it is,” you say, sounding insanely pleased, at odds with your words, “that’s so soon. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

He thinks he gets it. Spencer covers your hand where you’re been caressing his cheek and brings it to his mouth, giving your knuckles a kiss. “You’re already so caring, you’ll make an amazing mother.”

“Not just if we have babies though.”

“No, I know.” His hand acts for itself as he tucks your hand against his neck. “Amy loves you.”

“She’s brilliant, Spence.” And whatever adoring you’d been ladening on him comes to an end. “Her vocabulary is insane for her age, she really is her father’s daughter.”

You lay yourself across his chest again for a hug.

Spencer applauds himself for surviving whatever that was. You, eyes dark and imploring, asking him about babies and touching him like that. “Amy would love a baby sibling,” he says.

“How many should we have?”

He laughs loudly. The taboo of everything being too soon is forgotten as you and Spencer talk about babies, houses, what middle school Amy might go to, what daycare you could send your babies to. It’s so exciting it makes his chest pang, thinking about living with you, about marrying you. And your enthusiastic answers make it worse. It’s clear you’ve thought about some of this stuff at depth.

You could really get married one day, Spencer thinks. There’s a real possibility you might say yes.

“Do you really think Amy wouldn’t mind a sister?” you whisper.

“She’s asked me a couple of times how she can get one, so yeah. I think we can safely assume she’d like that.”

“She asked you that?” you coo. “Aw, lovely girl, what did you tell her?”

“Well, I told her she came from a pumpkin.”

“You did?”

“Mm. It was my fault then when she got very excited at Halloween.”

You giggle into his neck. “When we have a baby, we’ll buy her a pumpkin.”

“Or a squash, but I don’t think we could fit a baby in a butternut.”

You hug him nice and hard. Spencer isn’t sure, but he suspects this is the beginning of a very new, very enjoyable chapter of your lives. Even more so when you nose at his jaw and mumble something about his ‘kissability’.

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