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#nearly forgot sorry babe
hellomagicalsouls · 5 months
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i am in love with too many people at once and there are only so many crossover dreams a girl can have
its actually starting to inconvenience me
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formari · 1 year
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kind of starting to believe in the venerated triad meng yao, lan xichen and nie mingjue as the ultimate throuple
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mickandmusings · 2 months
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third times the charm
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pairing: tyler owens x f!reader
word count: 3.8k
summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?
aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.
warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry
shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)
-
i.
"What do you mean you're leaving?!"
Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.
"I'm leavin', simple as that."
"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"
He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.
"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.
It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.
Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.
"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"
She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.
"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"
Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.
"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."
"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.
"You know I can't."
She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.
"C-call me when you get there?"
He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.
"You'll be the first person I call, baby."
Y/N's call never came.
She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.
When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.
-
ii.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.
Tyler Owens.
She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.
With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.
"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"
"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."
She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.
"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.
"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.
"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."
She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.
"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."
She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.
"Stop the truck!"
He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.
"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"
The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.
"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"
Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.
"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"
She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.
"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"
He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"
"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"
"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.
It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.
He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.
Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.
When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.
-
iii.
"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"
Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.
His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.
Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.
"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.
"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."
"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"
Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.
"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.
"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."
Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.
"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."
She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.
"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."
"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."
She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.
"Sure, go ahead."
"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."
Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.
"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"
She pauses, realizing how vague that was.
"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"
She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.
"Tyler listen-"
"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."
She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.
"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."
He laughs with her.
"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"
She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.
"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."
"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."
"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."
She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.
"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."
Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.
"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."
Her statement is laced with sarcasm.
Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.
"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."
"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."
Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.
"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."
Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.
"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.
"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"
He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.
"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"
She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.
"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."
She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.
"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."
-
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@fraaaaankiiiiieee
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antidesire · 1 month
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specialize in havin' fun. antidesire
disclaimer, 18+ only. f!reader x logan howlett, logan is ancient so obvi age gap? idk who this is for, what am i doing? think im the dick-sucking writer, i seem to always write about it. no established relationship, reader and logan fool around but reader is head over heels for him. this is just porn, I didn't intend to write logan so rough I think I went off the rails. roughness, a lil non-con??? forcefulness, oral m! receiving, boot.. fucking >:), saliva, desperate!reader, pet names, hair pulling, I haven't written in so long I forgot how to tag, lmk if I miss anything, sorry this is garbage babe.
reblogging, interacting and sending feedback is always much appreciated, requests are open !! ♡
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logan's boots hit the stony pavement with a thud, leg swinging over the body of his motorcycle, propping it up diligently. what a fucking day, with a sharp inhale, he tried to shrug off any lingering thoughts that were worming around his brain.
your apartment was a humble and homely one, sure, sometimes the water would either scald you or, leave you falling on your ass when it blasted you with an ice-cold wake-up call, but you had decent neighbours, ones that didn't pry, or make a lot of noise, lot's of privacy, logan liked that, though he'd put up with anything for a night with you.
though this habit of leaving your door unlatched because you expected him, was something he didn't want to put up with, had he not taught you better?
"told you not to do that.." logan mummers under his breath, lord knows any fucker that tried to creep into the naively sweet girl's apartment, is one dead fucker.
pushing the door open, he was greeted with the familiar warmth of the living room, a chiffon scarf with tassels draped over the lamp on the tableside, drenching the room in tranquillity, candlelight flickering to compliment the dimly lit ambiance, he almost slammed the front door shut, as though the outside would taint it if it got too long of a look.
like a domino effect, just the click of the door scrambled you to your feet, tripping over the blanket thrown over your shoulders, "logan!" your hush whisper sounded just as excited as every other time he walked through the door, as though it was a script you followed.
"hey bab- ouh," logan huffed out, your head smacking against his chest first, your arms following in quick succession, squeezing tightly around his chest, "one day you're gonna give yourself a concussion doin' that."
muffled laughs vibrated against his chest. when you breathed in you could smell the gasoline on his clothing, and that cologne he wore, smelt earthy, woody, and a little citrus too.
impatient as always when it came to overtaking all your senses with the man you were enamored with, your fingers find the bulkiest part of logan's arms, not nearly enough length on them to get close to fully engulfing the meaty muscle of them, you squeezed and forced them both around your upper waist, encouraging him to hold you tighter, you wanted to feel light-headed with him.
if you could see the soppy smile that stretched on his face, eyes wrinkled with delight, you would've pounced further on him, "how do you do it?" your head raised at his question, chin digging uncomfortably into his sternum, he continues, "exist when i'm not here for you to love up on me?" logan's fingers tapped up your back, under the shirt of his you were adorned in, the blanket you had over you, long forgotten about.
your cheeks puffed out and lips parted, but only an exhale left them. you quickly shook your head, only nudging into him for more comfort.
“c’mere,” it was quite comical because any closer would’ve been impossible, though you craved it, with a push under your chin, logan leaned down, and without another beat he pushed his lips to yours, his thumb, followed by a trickling of his fingers trailing downwards along your neck, resting his grip mindfully there, as though the kiss hadn’t dazed you enough.
hoo boy, you were easy.
logan had years on him- years was an understatement, and you, this doe-eyed girl, hopelessly head over heels to please him, it was dangerous, logan felt guilty, soiling such a deer.
it was perverse.
it was perverse when he first rammed into you and you choked out the cutest little sob he had ever heard, eyes flooding with fat tears, he had tensed himself, so much restraint it took out of him to even think about pulling out after all the effort it took to push his cock inside you, you’d noticed and in a bit of a panic, “no- nonono.” your legs raised up and around his hips, the heels of your feet pushing against his back, “keep— hngh, stay, can do it.. i can do it.” your breath was so unsteady, “please.” and who was he to deny such a brave girl?
and now when he felt your lips part, trying to sloppily catch up with his own, fingers fumbling awkwardly at the lower hem of his raggedy white tank top, it was perverse.
it didn’t have to go like this every time, but it did, it got out of control, and fast, every single damn time.
logan's beard was dark, mostly, with little flecks of grey if you looked close enough. it scratched your pretty face deliciously when you pushed up further into the kiss, your hands exposing his tanned midriff, wandering upward to his chest, covered in coarse hair, you squeezed his flesh under your greedy fingertips every time you grazed over his waist.
the last thing logan would ever tell you to do was slow down, as much as he reveled in control, seeing you like this, your thoughts at the back of your mind, all action and no consequence, just what feels good, it was euphoric for him.
his nose prodded against yours as his tongue invaded your mouth, the sound of wet lips smacking and breaths hitching, you only let up when a sharp twinge of pain jolted at your scalp, logan's grip from your neck had moved up toward your hair, a bunched handful that arched your body delightfully against his own.
just sometimes, he'd have to nod you in a direction, when you got all fuzzy in the head for him you would've been feeling up on him with your tongue down his throat until your knee's buckled- just a little nod.
with another tug, you let logan maneuver you to the floor, not so gracefully when your knees thudded against the wood, but you didn't flinch, making quick work of his leather belt, the thing was heavy, a big brass oval buckle being the obstacle between him being down your throat already.
logan ever so kindly helped when he tugged the rest of the belt through the loops, it clattering to the ground beside his boots, next came the pop of his button and a quick push of the zipper downwards, flickering his eyes to where you were sitting, knees squashed underneath you, palms on each side of his thighs, and big pupils ghosting over his fingers.
"look at me baby." his thumb prodded at your bottom lip, inviting it to slip past and rest on your tongue, your eyes blinking up at logan, and your head tilting a little when your fingers scrunched the denim of his jeans.
his thumb pushed against your tongue and his finger hooked under your chin, pulling you into him until your cheek smushed into his abdomen and he retracted his hand, pushing his strained cock against your mouth.
you darted your tongue out and felt the texture of his briefs against it, eager fingers nudging the elastic down just enough to get him out of the fabric, barely letting his cock twitch as it met the air, a line of open-mouthed kisses trailing from the underside of his cock, hazily trailing the vein your tongue searched for, the one that leads straight up to his tip.
“s’like you’re drunk when you get like this,” logan hums, his grip on your hair was loose now, you made the prettiest distraction he’d ever laid eyes on, his thighs clenched and he twitched against your mouth again, already shallowly fucking up against your lips, “you remember last time? gotta take it easy, baby.”
last time, was partly logan’s fault, far too carried away in the warmth and slippery slick of your mouth that he had forgotten how big he was, and how small you were, how small your mouth was, it was an easy mistake when you always took anything he threw at you so sweetly, even if it ended with you gagging so uncontrollably, you almost threw up, oops.
your skin warmed out of humiliation at the gentle reminder, hastily leaning up on your knees, either of your legs sprawled out beside you when you reached up to hook both of your fingers in either side of his belt loops on his jeans, a steady handle now you opened your sticky-glossed lips and pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth, that familiar ache in your jaw not tearing down your confidence, but fuck, he was big and thick.
he tasted salty and he felt heavy in your mouth when you shoved more of him past your lips, shocks of hot lust pulsing straight between your legs whenever you heard the man above you even so much as sigh.
here he was, not even five footsteps into the room, with his pretty little thing kneeling before him as though he was a deity you praised, and devoted yourself to, in truth further condemning yourself with a life of sin, much to the both of your pleasures.
your head bobbed, and every so often you'd pull your head upward and curl your tongue around the red-hot tip of him, decorating him with sticky kisses, before he got a little too riled and there came that pulse of pain in your scalp again.
"that's very cute," the mewl that sounded in your throat was buried as soon as he pushed on the back of your head, and stuffed his cock down your throat, "i said take it fucking easy, but don't push your luck sweetheart."
your eyes almost bulged when you felt the tip of his boot nudge in between your legs, awkwardly bouncing until you feel it slip underneath you, flush against your aching warmth, "ffu-" you choked out, a stray fat tear trickling down your puffed out cheeks, mixing in the mess of saliva that pushes past your lips when logan keeps fucking up into your mouth.
"sshush, shsh." he coos out, his fingers that were previously tangled into your hair moving to your cheek, wiping at your sweet little tear, "I got you, baby, relax." his voice was as smooth as honey, and you took a second to still yourself, unclenching your jaw, as much as you could whilst he was rammed into your throat impatiently, exhaling out of your nose and hollowing your cheeks, taking a stronger grip on the hoops of his belt, for your own sanity because the way he tilted the tip of his boot up against your pussy was wickedly evil.
the thin layer of your short shorts did little to help you, you'd spoiled them as soon as his lips meshed with yours earlier.
another inhale,
exhale,
you managed to slide your mouth down much more fluidly this time, even tugging him flush against you, until the hairs at the base of him tickled your nose, you tried your best to pay no attention to the way logan had his boot in between your legs, no, no attention to the way your hips had a mind of their own, swaying against the hard material, your clit bumping deliciously every time you breathed him in, and raised your head and letting it fall in a rhythm.
the sounds that parted from logan's lips were otherworldly, his timbre was guttural and he got increasingly vocal, "fuhhck, mm," logan's brow bone had wrinkled, bliss evident, even in the way his head tilts to watch more darling little tears push past your eyes, "wish you'd greet me like this every day, ah, ah!" he hissed out, the muscles in his thighs tensing when you jolt him forward by the loops in his denim jeans, and he hits the back of your damn throat, and you take it.
cocky, that’s what you were being, and he loved every single drop of it, “gonna be a good little girl, make me cum, mm? yeah?” logan hums, feeling you squeeze his legs in approval.
good little girl,
if there were any three words to put together to make you putty in logan howlett’s hands, it was those.
your little sobs were more evident every time you lifted your head to pay some sweet attention to his tip, collecting the dribbles of sticky precum at the tip of him, rutting yourself against his boot which didn’t fly by logan’s head- no matter how enamored he was with his dick down your throat, “desperate for me to ruin every single bit of you, have a little more respect for yourself sweetheart.” he chuckled out, cruel.
if you weren’t so full of him, your senses screaming loganloganlogan, you would’ve said something, you would’ve scowled at least.
“you’re so pretty like this, let me fuck your throat yeah? you want that?” it wasn’t a question, logan’s rough hands settled on either side of your head and not missing a beat, he was thrusting into your mouth, forcefully, and hard.
his grip was stable, far too strong for you to do anything, anything but your arms flailing and clawing up at his chest, even tearing a hole in his white undershirt that bunched up under his arms.
too much. your brain screeched in panic, but your body betrayed you, helplessly fucking yourself against his boot with your thighs squashed on either side, and holy fuck, you were cumming, your puffy clit rubbing perfectly, and the lack of air did something so euphoric, it was all so wrong, but it could only be right when your body pulsed with pleasure so overwhelmingly you could do nothing but trust him, and let those fat crocodile tears stream down your face.
“sh-shit, did you just cum?” he laughs, he fucking laughs, “ahnngn, that’s so sexy.” logan was losing it, his fingertips pressed into the plush of your cheeks, hips getting sloppy as he neared his high.
one, two, three more thrusts, stuffing himself into your mouth and he is cumming for what feels like an eternity, hot and sticky fluid gushing into your mouth and spilling past your lips, dripping onto your thighs.
he lets up and eases out of your mouth when he squeezes the rest of his spend onto your tongue, gesturing with a nod of his head, “there’s my sweet girl.” you swallow, and it hurts, the strain in your throat, in your jaw, between your legs, every inch of you feels used.
“thank you, lo.” you barely scratch out, knees trembling when you lean up, nuzzling your face against his abdomen, your arms clasping around his waist for comfort, his stomach gleamed with sweat and saliva too, somehow.
logan lifted you to your feet in a swift motion, one of his hands under your arms as the other tucked his dick back into his briefs, getting you to the couch, wrapping that previously forgotten about blanket around you, “i’m gonna run us a bath, you stay here.” his lips pressed a kiss so delicately to your forehead that you felt it almost regenerate your entire body.
“can you stay for a second longer?” your voice was small, unstable.
“m’ not leaving.” logan finds it endearing, honestly a little heartbreaking, “you can’t walk and your shoulders are up to your ears sweet, lemme get a bath going,” he explains, more reassuringly but you still grumble.
he sighs at that, you barely even recognize you are horizontal after what feels like a long blink, one of logan’s arms snugly under your knees whilst the other held your upper back, and he walked onwards to the bathroom, “you remind me of a little lamb like this.” he observed, and laid another sweet kiss, this time to your lips, and your stomach churned in delight, he reassured you once again, just for tonight,
“don’t worry, i’m not leaving yet.”
647 notes · View notes
softspiderling · 1 month
Text
i’ll run my fingers through your hair | j.v
synopsis: jace + modern au + hair
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
word count: 1,1k
author’s note: just a little not very serious drabble/mini fic about you tying jace’s hair in a pony… bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it during work. unedited, written on a whim in like 20 minutes on my phone… @eldrith put the gun away. also football ✅⚽️ not ❌🏈
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Ever since Jace had grown his hair out he had only seen positive changes his new hair cut had brought in his life. He had gotten tons of compliments (from friends, family AND strangers), questions about his “hair care routine” (water, shampoo and leave in conditioner… was that enough steps to call it a routine?) and of course, the way you were tugging on it whenever he was between your legs. That, he enjoyed particularly.
In all the upsides, he had never thought there would be downsides as well. Clearly, he completely forgot about the football season.
The last games had already been over before his hair started curling around his ears, the process of growing it out taking longer than expected. But now that training was back on, he had been struggling with his curls sticking to the back of his neck or falling into his face while he sprinted across the field and Jace actually started contemplating getting it cut before the first game.
“Don’t you dare,Jacaerys Targaryen.”
Jace flinched when you full-named him, quickly locking his phone, the hair dresser’s online appointment website fading to black. You only ever full-named him when you were serious about something. He hadnt realized you were so invested in his hair.
“I wasn’t gonna get it all chopped of!” he insisted. “Only like a trim maybe.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But babe,” he whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, one of his most used weapons to try to get his way with you. “This season’s so important, and I can’t be distracted by hair.”
It was his first year starting as captain of the Dragons, the last thing he needed was being distracted by his hair, He would not lose because of vanity.
“There are less drastic ways than cutting your beautiful hair off!”
You ran your fingers through his brown locks, your nails scratching against his scalp and Jace nearly melted into the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Like what?”
His words sounded breathless when he spoke and you were grinning when you climbed over the back of the couch, plopping yourself next to him.
“Come down here and I’ll show you,” you said, gesturing to the floor in front of you. Jace sighed, but did as you asked anyways, folding his legs under himself. He leaned back against the couch as you combed through his hair with your hand, making his eyes flutter closed. His muscles automatically relaxed as soon as you put your hands into his hair, it was like magic.
“- half-up half-down…Hey, are you even listening to me?”
“Hm?”
“If you’re not gonna listen when I’m trying to help you-!”
“Okay, okay, I’m listening, sorry!” Jace reached back to curl his hand around your wrist, bringing it forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “You said something about half-up half-down…?”
You huffed.
“I need my hand back, Jace.”
Jace let go of your wrist and you sectioned his hair off with your fingers, tugging on it a little, as he shifted on the floor, before tying his hair off with an elastic.
“Look at it.”
Jace grabbed his phone, opening the camera on it to look at himself, the upper half of his hair now pulled back in a small pony, leaving his face free of his hair. For some reason, he had never thought about tying his hair off.
“Isn’t that… Girly?” he asked,
You gave him a look.
“Your father had the same hairstyle for your mother’s birthday last month. I think we can both agree on the fact that your father is not girly.”
Jace let out a huff, settling back against the couch. He did not like how lilty your voice got whenever you talked about his dad. He looked at the camera again, starting to get used to it.
“Doesn’t look half bad,” he admitted, looking at his hair from all angles. “What if I can’t tie it properly though and it’ll just unravel in the middle of the game? I think that might be even worse than just starting with my hair untied.”
“If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Hm,” Jace hummed, tilting his phone to snap a picture of the two of you, your laugh echoing in his ears.
Said picture now was opened on his phone, as Jace tried to use it as a reference to tie his hair off. The first game of the season was about to start, and the whole team was in a frenzy. This was usually the opportunity Jace used to give his team mates a pep talk, rally them around, but he was too busy fighting with his hair and his vice-captain Cregan was still in the showers, taking his ritualistic ice bath (yes, he was superstitious; when they lost 3:4 against the White Walkers, Cregan insisted it was because he didn’t have time to take his ice bath, Jace knew it was because Addam had been out injured and Aegon had taken his place in the squad).
“Shit, how the fuck did she do it?” Jace muttered, bringing the hair tie around his hair, glancing between the reference picture and the mirror.
“Hey Cap, the cheerleaders are starting in ten minutes so we should be out in five, are you done fixing up your hair?” Ulf asked, stepping way into Jace’s personal space, despite Jace telling numerous times to fuck off.
“Shut up,” Jace huffed, his eye twitching in annoyance when his phone screen darkened. “Do me a favor and go get my girl from the stands.”
“Ooh what, the big ol’ Prince can’t start the game without seeing his ‘wittle girlfriend?” Ulf cackled, but his grin soon faded when Jace turned around to glare at him, his hand still around his hair.
“Do you want to start off the season on the bench, White?”
“Sorry Cap, I’ll go get your girl right away.”
Ulf scampered off with his tail between his legs and Jace sighed, letting go of his hair.
“Cregan, you’ve got about one minute to get your ass out of the ice bath before I replace you with Aemond!”
“I’ll be right out, Jace!”
“We better win this goddamned game,” Jace muttered to your smiling face on his phone.
They won 5:2.
But their victory was only a byline in the uni’s paper the following week, a picture of Jace’s half-up half-down hairstyle taking up half of the front page.
DRAGONS’ CAPTAIN GRACING THE FIELD WITH NEW HAIRSTYLE!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ���   . ✦
author’s note: don’t forget to leave a comment if you liked it🫶🏼
640 notes · View notes
lerclan · 3 months
Text
movie night (pt.2 to orange) | lando norris
type: smau + written
pairing(s): reader x lando norris, reader x f1 grid (friendly)
summary: after you and lando officially announced your relationship, you didnt realize that charles and george were actually sad about the news. to make it up you invited them for ice cream and some movies (except they werent the only ones that showed up)
warning(s): a little bit suggestive 😘🙈
fc: random girlies off of pinterest!
---
"are you sure thats gonna be enough ice cream, babe?" lando asks as you turned to look at him confused
"yes??? why wouldnt there be enough? i only invited the two of them for some ice cream and to watch movies." you respond to lando as his eyes widen, "what did you do, lando."
"i swear–no i promise i didnt know it was just supposed to be those two..." he explains as you look at him more, "i may or may have not invited more people besides the two..."
"lando norris!" you yelp out in disbelief, "go."
"go?? go where??" he asks confused.
"go buy more ice cream for the friends you invited." you tell him as he sighs, "quit standing around, go before they come!"
after a few minutes of you stressing out, lando finally arrived with more ice cream in his hands.
"who else did you invite?" you finally ask as he puts the ice cream in the freezer.
"carlos, oscar, max, alex, and lewis." he states their names.
"oh, well thats fine. sorry for getting snappy with you, love." you give him a peck on his cheek, "you know how i am with planning things."
"trust me i do, dont worry about it babe." he tackles you onto the couch as you scream for help.
you and him wrestle each other for a bit until you end up on top of him, straddling his waist.
"i could so do you right now." you blurt out as he cheekily smiles.
"please do." he says as you lean in for a kiss but it gets interrupted with a doorbell.
"awhh, too bad." you pull away as you give him a sly look to which he rolls his eyes at.
---
ynnn posted on their story !
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👁️628,183
amayamoore replied to ynnns story
amayamoore WHY IS EVERYONE THERE
amayamoore I THOUGHT IT WAS J GONNA BE CHARLES AND GEORGE??
ynnn GIRL I THOUGHT SO TOO BUT LANDO INVITED MORE PEOPLE 😭😭😭
amayamoore LMFAOOO
lilymhe replied to ynnns story
lilymhe tell alex to buy some carrots after you guys are done w your movie night
lilymhe that cute idiot forgot his phone 😔
ynnn LMFAOAHHS OKAY
ynnn he said "understood" with a salute
lilymhe thanks girl lets hang tmrw xxx
ynnn GIRLS NIGHT!?&:
lilymhe YESSSS
---
"did she ask for anything else, y/n?" alex asks as he takes a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
"no, but i am stealing her from you tomorrow night." you answer as you take a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth as well.
"girls night?" max asks as you nod your head in agreement.
"yep, pretty much." you answer verbally, "anyways, were you two shocked when you pulled up here seeing all the other guys?" you laugh as you see charles and george nod their heads.
"obviously. i thought me and george were gonna get closure and therapy after the announcement, not a whole party." charles answers as he laughs, "but i think this is better."
"the more merrier they say..." lando says as he scratches his head.
you give him a peck on the lips as you laugh.
"you guys are lucky charles cried all of his tears during the announcement or hed be bawling right now." carlos says as everyone laughs and looks at charles.
"hey, still quite sensitive to that..." he says as he eats down his ice cream and chokes.
max instantly gets up to pat charles on his back as he keeps on coughing.
"DONT DIE ON ME." you yell as you ran out of the room to get charles a glass of water.
"RUN BABE RUN!!" lando yells out as he slowly panics at how much charles was coughing.
"HERE.." you come back with a glass of water nearly slipping on the way, but it gets to charles safely.
"charles dont die yet, you have to race in monaco." max says as he still pats his back.
"i wo–" he coughs, "i wont." he finally takes a deep breath and stops coughing.
"almost lost a dad there for a sec by his own ice cream brand" oscar says as everyone laughs especially charles.
"you almost really did." he says as he finally eases down, "anyways, what are we watching tonight." he asks as you chuckle at his attempt at changing the subject.
"you can pick since you almost saw the light." you say.
"yeah mate, youre lucky max got your back. like quite literally." lewis says max laughs.
after a few minutes of thinking, charles finally picked a movie that he thinks everyone would enjoy.
---
lando.jpg
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Liked by ynnn, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 528,924 others
lando.jpg my love ❤️
tagged: ynnn
View all 45,818 comments
---
user3 y/ns first jpg feature 🥹🫶
lando.jpg wont be the last thats fs ❤️
ynnn you better be for sure.
user3 NOT THE THREAT GNNN 😭😭😭
maxverstappen1 mates gonna pretend like we werent there...
alex_albon got lost in the sauce
lewishamilton real
georgerussell63 real
oscarpiastri real
carlossainz55 real
charles_leclerc real
lewishamilton wheres my photo creds @??
ynnn real, like he ate that last pic of us up
lando.jpg creds @/lewishamilton for the last photo 😒
ynnn gosh hes being sassy again 🙄
lewishamilton i literally just asked for creds 🙄🙄
ynnn ikr??? 🙄🙄🙄🙄
mclaren now you know what we have to deal with 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
ynnn gosh i could never 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
lando.jpg GOSH YOU GUYS ARE BULLIES ☹️
---
charles_leclerc
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Liked by landonorris, ynnn, lilymhe, and 1,271,182 others
charles_leclerc feeling better now 😎
tagged: ynnn
View all 157,713 comments
---
ynnn I SWEAR YOU PUT A FRICKING BRICK IN YOUR PILLOW. GOOD LORD CHARLES.
charles_leclerc LOLLL IM SORRY 😭😭
ynnn THAT HURT MATE 😭😭😭
landonorris THE SOUND IT MADE LMFAOOO 😭😭
ynnn SHUT UP LANDO.
alex_albon ive never laughed so hard until what happened on the last photo 😭
lewishamilton FR 💀
lilymhe COUNT YOUR DAYS ALEX.
ynnn YOU GUYS ATTEMPTED TO MURDER ME I SWEAR.
ynnn MURDERERS. ALL OF YOU.
user3 NOT Y/N ACCUSING THEM OF ATTEMPTED MURDER BYEE 😭😭
scuderiaferrari dont hurt our future driver charles ❤️😘
mclaren nuh uh i dont think so ☝️ shes taking landos seat
scuderiaferrari we will see 🙈
ynnn THAT WAS AN UNFAIR FIGHT WAIT TILL I HAVE MY GIRLS W ME GOSH
lilymhe FR
amayamoore REMAAATCH
maxverstappen1 its so on
oscarpiastri REAL‼️
alex_albon REAL‼️
landonorris REAL‼️
carlossainz55 REAL‼️
lewishamilton REAL‼️
charles_leclerc REAL‼️
georgerussell63 REAL‼️
user4 THIS FRIENDSHIP IS TO DIE FOR I SWEAR
---
georgerussell63
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Liked by ynnn, charles_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, and 876,173 others
georgerussell63 we totally won in girls vs boys pillow fight.
tagged: charles_leclerc, ynnn, alex_albon, landonorris
View all 99,173 comments
---
ynnn FOR THE LAST TIME: GIRL (SINGULAR) VS BOYS (PLURAL)
user4 poor girl is fighting a whole team 😭
ynnn NOBODY HAD MERCY 😡😡😡😡
charles_leclerc youre just a sore loser
ynnn STFU LECLERC.
alex_albon i swear i literally almost peed myself seeing her screech, run away, and slip 💀
landonorris FOR REAL. I NEARLY HYPERVENTILATED SEEING THAT HAPPEN I WAS CRYING 😭😭
carlossainz55 it actually had me in tears too i couldnt believe she slipped because of her slippers😭😭😭
maxverstappen1 i may have bursted a lung.
ynnn WHAT IS WERONG QITH YOU GUYS QUIT EXPOSING ME
user22 I CANT BREATHE 😭💀💀💀
oscarpiastri 😭😭😭
ynnn im gonna crash into you guys if i see you in the roads.
amayamoore THE THREATS 😭😭😭
mercedesamgf1 how do you feel about joining us next year. we will have a seat open for you 😁
redbullracing no she seems to have a redbull driving style 😘
scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI!!! also we dibs first 🙄
mclaren shes already driving for lando next year 🧡🧡🧡
landonorris WHAT
yn.jpg you didnt know babe?
landonorris #landofoundonthestreetsjobless
yn.jpg GOODBYE LMFAOO 😭😭
landonorris look at my loves bunda 😻😻😻
ynnn id humor you if i wasnt holding a grudge against you.
landonorris it was too funny babe i could not 😭😭
ynnn WTV OPP WTV.
landonorris there she goes again 🙄🙄🙄
---
yn.jpg
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Liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 35,263 others
yn.jpg welcome chat
tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, alex_albon, maxverstappen1
View all 9,173 comments
---
yn.jpg look at all the photos i took of them
yn.jpg my favs is alexs 😭
user3 WHAT EVEN HAPPENED
yn.jpg nothing...just an inchident. (tried running him over in his own car)
lilymhe LMFAOO GNNN 😭😭 HE PROBABLY DESERVED IT
yn.jpg HE DID LILY HE RLLY DID
alex_albon OKAY WHATEVER 😒
charles_leclerc hey...😔
maxverstappen1 best quote from you ever.
lando.jpg such a copycat 🙄
maxverstappen1 mate didnt you beg her?
georgerussell63 didnt you go down on both knees?
oscarpiastri didnt you weep on the floor?
alex_albon didnt you massage her back?
lewishamilton didnt you yell loudly for her to make this account?
carlossainz55 didnt you roll AND weep on the floor if she didnt make it?
charles_leclerc didnt you also massage her feet?
yn.jpg didnt you beg for months for me to make it?
lando.jpg GOSH I GET IT OKAY. 🙄
user22 omg look at oscar hes such a cutie 🥹🥹🥹
charles_leclerc my child is cute 🥹
oscarpiastri thanks dad 😆
user3 that looks like the best movie night ever omg
user4 NO CUZ FR??
yn.jpg #facedented #charlesfault #hehadabrickinhispillow
charles_leclerc haters gonna stay losing 🙄🙄🙄
lilymhe lets get them next time since they wanna talk😒
amayamoore real 😒
yn.jpg real 😒
ynnn real 😒
lilymhe not the double confirmation 😭😭
ynnn i want revenge babes 😭🫶
lilymhe youll get them back babe 🫶😘
amayamoore @/alex_albon she just stole your girl
alex_albon #usedtothis
lilymhe HAHAHSJW ILY BABE 😖🤍
alex_albon love you too 😻🙈
ynnn ew i hate couples 🙄
landonorris im literally on the other side of the couch from you babe 😔
ynnn how about you come to my side then babe. sit on my lap 😻😻😻
landonorris yes maam 😻😻😻🙈🙈
amayamoore GET OUT OF HERE
georgerussell63 TAKE THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE.
charles_leclerc THEYRE DOING IT AGAIN
mclaren i was never here 😨
---
authors note(s): did a little part 2 to orange since it felt like it needed a part 2.
i also wanna thank you guys for giving me massive support on orange 😭🫶 i genuinely thought it was gonna flop since it was my first time writing a smau and i thought that you guys wouldnt find my humor funny, but reading the comments made me feel better 😘😘😘
thank you sm again xxx
445 notes · View notes
tiredmamaissy · 11 months
Text
Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III
Calm After the Storm
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
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🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: 6.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.
ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!
Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?
<- Previous -> Next
——
Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.
Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.
“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.
And he can sense it.
Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”
He just can’t help it.
No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.
“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”
The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.
It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.
ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.
“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”
“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.
Pop.
His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.
It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.
He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.
Until it becomes too much.
“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”
But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”
Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —
Thrust.
Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.
“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”
A deep roll of his hips.
A lewd moan dripping off your lips. 
“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.
“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”
Thrust.
“‘M sorry.”
He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.
Chomp.
Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.
“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”
A small cry from your quivering lips.
“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.
Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.
Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.
Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.
He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.
“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”
He only says your name when he’s serious about something.
And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.
“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.
“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.
“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.
You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.
“Mmmh. Wider.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.
“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.
Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.
The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.
But frankly, he doesn't care.
All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.
“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.
“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.
And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”
His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.
“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.
Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.
He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.
“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.
You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.
“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”
“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.
Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.
“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.
“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.
You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”
“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.
“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”
——
Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.
But, you thought wrong.
He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.
At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’. 
Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.
Mercilessly.
And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.
——
“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”
Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.
“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.
Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.
Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.
“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”
For the first time, you were telling him to stop.
His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.
It’s pouring outside.
Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.
You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?
“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.
After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.
So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.
A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.
Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.
But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).
The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.
Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.
“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.
Crack.
A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.
Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.
“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.
You’re hungry.
“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.
You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.
“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.
“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit. 
“Fine.” Ralak mutters.
Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”
“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”
“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”
“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.
Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.
“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”
“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.
Crack.
Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.
“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”
Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.
You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.
Has he really punished himself by not eating?
“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.
“No need.”
“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.
He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”
“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.
His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible. 
Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.
“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”
You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].
Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.
Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.
I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.
I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.
——
It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.
Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.
The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].
But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.
He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.
But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.
Yet, the real reason was much different.
——
Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.
And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.
Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap.  “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”
You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.
Prick.
“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”
“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”
“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure? 
“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.
“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.
“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”
“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.
“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”
“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.
“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”
“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.
“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”
“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”
“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.
“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.
You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.
A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”
“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”
You exchange lighthearted smiles.
“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”
“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.
Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”
Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”
2K notes · View notes
murdockparker · 6 months
Text
Our Cottage
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)
A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it
__
The room was too fragrant. 
Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true. 
“What in the world?”
“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”
“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”
“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”
“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”
“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”
She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”
Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”
“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”
“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”
She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.
“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”
“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”
“Not a clue.”
“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”
“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”
“A year ago, today.”
“Today is… surely not…”
Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.
~
Dearest,
I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been. 
Happy anniversary, my love.
Yours forever,
B
~
Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.
“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”
“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”
“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”
“Not your first one though, correct?”
“Well, no—”
“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”
“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.
_
“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”
“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”
“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.
“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”
Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”
“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”
“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?
“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”
Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.  
“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”
“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”
“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.
“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”
“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”
“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”
“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”
“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”
“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”
“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”
“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”
“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”
“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus. 
“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”
“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”
(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”
“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.
As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.
_
Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day. 
Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.
When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family. 
“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”
“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.
“How was your family, sir?”
“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”
“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”
“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”
“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”
“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”
Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”
“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”
“You as well, sir.”
Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.
“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”
Silence.
“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”
A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door. 
Odd.
“(Y/N)…?”
He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing. 
“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”
“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”
“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”
“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”
“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”
“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever. 
“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—” 
“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.
“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”
“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”
“So it is not yet finished—”
“May I see it?”
“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.
“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.
“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”
“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”
“Perhaps…”
“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”
She nodded. “One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand. 
Laughter filled the room.
“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”
“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”
On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.
“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”
“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”
“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”  
“Benedict—”
“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”
“Truly?”
“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.
“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige. 
After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other. 
“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” 
“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”
“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more. 
“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”
“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”
Another playful slap to his arm. 
“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—” 
“What about our bedchambers?” He offered. 
“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”
“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”
“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”
“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”
“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”
“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”
“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes. 
“I may have a few ideas…”
_
The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.
“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”
“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”
“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”
“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”
“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.
“So I’ve been told.”
“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”
“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”
“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”
“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”
Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement. 
Their daughter was born only nine months after.
“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.
“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
690 notes · View notes
shirefantasies · 3 months
Note
Hey! Recently finished LotR for the first time and just wanted to thank you for sharing so much amazing writing with the fandom!
I was wondering, after reading the how many children they’d like hcs, if you’d be comfortable writing some characters(personally requesting Legolas and Eowyn, but whoever you’d wish of course!) meeting their(/them and their partner’s if they already have children ofc) firstborn!
Either way! Tysm for reading and have an amazing day!!
Forgot I had one more finished draft lmao sorry everyone🤙🏻 here's one more post
Bro OF COURSE I love doing parent AU stuff!!! This is such a cute imagine omg. Also thanks for the kind words & welcome to the fandom 🥰 consider this part 2 of the pregnancy headcanons~
Warnings: some descriptions/mentions of childbirth/labor pain/blood (not too graphic though!)
LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)
Aragorn
Concern paints your husband's handsome features, furrowing his dark brow and glittering deeply in his blue eyes at your sudden, frantic motions. You are too quiet, too focused. Hiding something, perhaps? "What troubles you?" Aragorn asks, moving to your side, a hand caressing your shoulder as he breathes your name. Eyes widening, you start for a moment before deflating in a sigh. "I think the baby is coming. But I did not wish to worry you until I was certain, until I had more prepared and-" Saying your name, this time a little more firmly and a lot more lovingly, Aragorn takes your hand. "Worry me? Cast all your worries upon me. I am your husband. My heart is yours, and my service. Come, we will go to the healing halls at once."
~
Aragorn smooths your hair, wincing as you cry out and calmly whispering encouragement. He quiets you down as the pain and stress wash over you in nearly blinding waves, your body writhing with each push. Hours pass like this, Aragorn your one anchor until finally, blessedly, your body can fall limp against your sickbed and pant and sigh in relief, the babe proclaimed healthy and taken to be soothed and cleaned. "What a marvel. Truly you prove strength beyond measure every day. Beyond that, I simply love you more every day," he adds with a smile. Leaning up to kiss him, you fix your husband with tired eyes, loving gaze broken only by the midwives' calls. "My king," they say, "a son was born to you! The prince of Gondor!" "A son," you repeat, finally breaking back into a grin as you accept your little boy. Aragorn looks down upon him too with as wide a smile, greeting him in Elvish. "My son," he says, "how loved you are, and how blessed are we your parents. May you grow strong, healthy, happy, our little gift."
Legolas
Even as far as you had gotten, an unspoken fear had crept up between you and your husband until the very day of your labor, but your twins held fast. Such a thought echoed through your mind as much as you could bear to will it between the waves of pain. They held fast, and so would you, your husband at your side stroking your head and holding your hand, whispering calming words in the language of his people. Through tears, you smiled at the beautiful sound, at Legolas's constant reminders that you are strong, you are the most amazing gift the prince has born witness to in hundreds of years. He reminded you to look into his eyes as you were urged to push harder, your hips burning like never before...
~
"A son. A son and a daughter,” Legolas breathed, pulling you and both your twins into a gentle embrace. “And my wife. What more could I desire? Nothing. Nothing indeed.” You feel moisture, realize a tear has slid from Legolas’s eye to your hand, and reaching up you dry his eye before bringing your hand down to stroke the side of his face. You can feel the bags of exhaustion circling your eyes and your whole body aches, but all you can do is smile, smile until your face is just as sore; with your aching pleasure glowing throughout you nuzzle the babe in your arms, your son. “Our dreams are finally reality, Legolas. I would ask for no more either.”
Boromir
"What for it? What can I do?" Boromir is less calm than you expected at your sudden pain, the downward rush you can only assume is the baby coming. Not that you have told him that already. "Let us go to the healers." You try to steady your breathing, praying your water will hold out and break only upon entry to the home of the dear friend you'd selected to aid in your birth. Grateful are you for the grasp of your husband’s hand and the strength with which his arm raises you, tugging you against him for support, even if you feel his heart racing like mad when your hand falls against his chest.
~
For hours you toiled, your body rent and torn in creative horror as Boromir tried his best with jokes and sweet words to keep your wits about you… for far shorter hours than usual in your friend’s words. “I find that hard to believe,” you panted as she cleaned the child. “No, truly that was quite amazing,” your friend shot back, stepping back your way with a bundle in her hands, “We’ve had them take twenty hours before. Five is quite fast I daresay.” Every orifice in your body cried out with pain, so all you could do was incline your head until you raised it again, saw the child in her outstretched arms and felt your lips part in amazement. Eyes still closed, your child groped for you, stilling a bit in satisfaction upon your acceptance, feeling the weight fall and rest gently upon your chest. “Impatient little man and with some fire too! He fought against cleaning quite well.” “Little man?” Boromir’s head snapped so rapidly up to your friend and back to your baby you thought he might snap something. “We have a son?” “Indeed you do, you old dog, you,” she grinned. “It’s a boy!” He shouted gleefully, one hand resting firmly between your son’s and the other cupping your cheek and yanking your lips to smash against his. When Boromir pulled away, he laughed aloud, hearty and triumphant. “Bless him and bless you for giving him to me! I never knew I could be this happy, love!” Your smile widened to match his grin. Suddenly your pain didn’t seem quite so bad.
Gimli
“Push! Push!” “Am I not?!” You reply, uncaring of the raise of your voice or the vice of your hand about your husband’s. For his part and quite in spite of himself, Gimli must laugh, for such was the fire that stole his heart some time ago and the fire from which your newest love was forged- though not without some trouble first. Chip off the ol’ block, indeed! “That’s it, that’s it,” the healer encouraged, “yer doin’ great, lassie!” “Doesn’t feel like it!” Even as he winces in pain by your iron grip, Gimli chuckles again.
~
“A healthy little lad!” Six more hours have passed, but finally he’s in hand and you won’t give him up for anything. Except Gimli- he is the only one to survive your death glares when he reaches for your son, and pushing some hair off his shoulder he gently extends his arms further when you acquiesce. His lips part in an o of endearment and shock at your son, crying moments ago but now laying peacefully in his father's arms. Breaking into a wide smile, Gimli stares down with moist eyes and it is like time is frozen. “My son,” he half-declares, half-sobs. His gaze tears from the babe after a minute or two only to meet yours and bring a wide, triumphant smile to his face. "And most importantly, son of the fairest this earth has yet set forth, she who gave herself that he should be here. You did wonderful, my love. Thank you." "Thank you for being his father," you reply, "and for loving me through it all, even when I was quite ugly about it." "Ah..." Gimli replies diplomatically, "you were in a great deal of pain." Of course he forgives you, he worships the ground you walk on, after all, and you have just gifted him the honor of a son, a little flame all his own! And who, the dwarf suspects with another smile, shall look a lot like his father too!
Frodo
Frodo walked you all the way to the bed and laid you down by himself before he would finally relinquish any care of you to the midwife, despite the fact that he had selected her. You knew it was borne of no distrust of her, however, only a sign of the immense care in his heart he felt for you and the sum of all the kindnesses done upon Frodo in his most difficult years. When you love someone, after all, you carry them up a mountain. You lay them down and take their hand and kiss their forehead, telling them you will never leave them in their greatest pain. Just as your husband now did, just as he spoke upon cradling you close, grip only tightening as you cried out in pain.
~
"You're doing so well," Frodo encouraged during your last pushes, stroking your sweat-beaded forehead, "This is almost over." Indeed it was, for minutes later your final whimper broke Frodo's heart, sending spikes of dread shooting down his spine until a new set of cries stopped them cold. "She's here," the midwife tells you, standing up and fetching the cloths she'd dunked earlier. "A girl," Frodo breathes, "A little girl!" "Our little girl," you agree, reaching out to accept the tiny babe. Frodo's heart melts at her now-calmed face, the way her tiny eyelids flutter and the spray of tiny dark curls already visible on her head. "Hello there," he whispers, "my beautiful little girl. Never did I think my heart could give any more, and yet here it is, doubly taken."
Sam
"What's wrong? You look a little peaky. Here, why don't we-" "Sam, I'm fine. I just think I twisted my- hngh!" Crumpling in half with a grunt of pain you cannot even complete your sentence. Sam is rushing to your side, taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok, you'll see. I'll get the midwife and she'll know everything to do, alright?" Sam's green eyes are warm as ever, his tone the sweetest and most soothing thing you've ever heard and ever will. Despite the waves of pain and the gush you begin to feel soaking the sheets around you, you find yourself nodding and willing up a faint smile.
~
"You're a strong lass, aren't you?" The midwife remarks as Sam returns to the room with more boiled water, looking at you with wonder in her pale blue eyes. Panting, you manage to reply that you suppose so with a faint smile of amusement before being wracked with the pain of another contraction. The only thing that keeps you going is the way your husband is there, leaving only to help you both before tumbling back against the bedframe to grip your hand, never once losing his smile even as you crushed the life out of him. It feels like a lifetime and yet no time before cries fill the room, your head immediately whipping to Sam's and meeting the tears spiling from his kind, loving eyes. "You did it," he whispers your name with awe, kissing your head, then your cheeks sweetly and softly again and again until the midwife is ready with your bundle of joy. "She's beautiful," the older hobbit comments, handing your baby off to you and beaming as you pull your daughter into your chest, loosening her swaddle enough to see her peaceful face. "Lovely," Sam replies, tone even more awed now despite its faint sob, "she looks like her mother. Her mother who worked so hard. Look, she has your hair." "She sure does," you agree, "but I hope she got your eyes." "Nah," he shook his head, "that can be the next one. I love that she's the spitting image. You've earned it after all that, I fear." You laugh at that, still smiling down at your daughter's face, which is still red and calming from her cries of alarm. "That I have. But the only reason I could at all was because of you, Sam." Tears falling anew, he shakes his head one more time. "The thanks are all yours. I knew you could do it all along. It's 'cause of you we have our little beauty."
Merry
"Come on, come on, that's it," Merry coaxed, lowering you down into the squatting position you'd asked for. Inside he was screaming bloody murder, but it was no good letting you know that, not when he had a duty to do and the most important one at that. No indeed, courage was far beyond necessary. Just as he'd had on the battlefield, he was to have with you. For you. Merry only could thank his lucky stars that you began your labor at home while he was there. Once you'd gotten settled, he reluctantly began to pull away his hand from yours, face falling at the way your fingers trembled. "I'm just going to get help. I'll come right back for you." "I know," you whispered with a smile, and just as it had been broken Merry's heart was up and skipping beats.
~
What a good sport the midwife was, for she had been in the middle of her afternoon tea when Merry found her, but never had he seen a napkin thrown down so fast. She rushed with him back to you and found you there still squatting and wincing, this time with sweat beading upon your brow. For hours there you remained, flanked on both sides by husband and midwife, until suddenly your skirts were lifted even further and the lady was calling "He's out!" You cried out in pain and relief and Merry just laughed and gave a big smile before remembering you, looking down at you with great concern. At that, you gave a chuckle of your own. "Sounds like we have a son, Merry." "We have a-" "Certainly you do and quite a big one! Here, you can hold him if you like, but not after the missus has a turn," the midwife cut in, laying your son in your arms. Merry's jaw positively dropped at the sight of him, and he leaned down to speak at once. "Hello there, little one. It's me, your dad. You remember the sound of my voice, don't you?"
Pippin
“Pippin, it’s time.” “Time? Time for what?” You loved your sweet, wonderful, clueless husband, but now was simply not the time. “The baby is coming! Get my supplies, please.” Your command came out as more of a whimper, your face twisting into a grimace at the feeling of moisture trickling down your leg. Water’s broken, then. Pippin caught sight of this, paled, and tore off down the hall, a crash sounding and a handful of stomps before he emerged again, bag slung over his shoulder and a pile of rags in one hand. "You know, for your..." "Yes, I know," you nodded, smiling in faint amusement as he took hold of your arm, barely giving you any time to straddle the rags at all.
~
"Push!" "What am I doing, then?" Your reply shattered Pippin, for it dripped with no sarcasm, only broken tears as you struggled with the pains of labor. The midwife shed a tear of her own, promising you did well, but this went on for hours until suddenly, finally, cries pierced the room's tense air and a massive smile spread across Pippin's face. "You did it!" A loud, triumphant laugh. "You did it, my love!" "She sure did," the midwife agreed, handing the babe off to another older hobbit and chuckling at the way Pippin's open hands followed them. "Don't worry your head off, he's just getting cleaned up." "He? It's a boy! Love, it's a-" "I heard," you grinned, "A little mini-Pippin. Just what I always wanted." "Are- are you joking?" "No," you shook your head, accepting your son with open, grabbing hands, "Not at all. Oh, look, he really does look just like you, too! Oh, Pippin!" Another little Pippin. This time hopefully not one who'll make the same mistakes. No. No, he won't, because he'll have the big one to guide him. And you, oh, his lovely wife... "Pip, are you crying?" "Of course I am," he replied in a quiet, awe-filled voice, leaning to press his curly head to yours, "Our son. Yours and mine. What a glorious gift you've given me. I'm going to work every day to pay you back."
Faramir
Faramir would have given anything to escape the meeting he had become entrenched in, the droning on about some law or another that- Slam! A messenger came bursting in through the door, one of the young page boys whom Faramir had sent notes off with. Rather than pass a message, though, the young man strode right over to his seat and leaned in to whisper to him. Feeling his face contort in shock, then a smile, Faramir rose from the chair at once. “My apologies, gentleman, but my wife has gone into labor. I will review all notes taken at my earliest convenience.” So it seemed the twins inherited their mother’s sense of humor.
~
Watching you strain and hearing your ragged breaths, listening to every cry of pain, stabbed Faramir in the heart with a hurt of his own. He never let go of your hand for a moment, though, despite the ache in those muscles as well. For hours he whispered you words of encouragement, reminding you that you were his hero and that you were doing great, even if it didn’t feel such. And finally your grip was tightening one final time, one final cry of pain as the second twin was born. First your daughter had come. “A girl!” Faramir breathed. “We have a daughter.” And with that last push Faramir himself caught your son. “A son as well. Two beautiful children.” Tears welled up in his eyes, which quickly turned to you as your son was cut free, lifted from his arms, and cleaned. Thumb stroking over the back of your hand, Faramir leaned over, head resting against yours. His stubble tickled your face as he shifted to press a kiss to your cheek. “We got the most difficult one out of our way first, hm?” You joked. Breaking into a tearful grin at your words, Faramir nodded.
Eomer
He should never have agreed to ride out on that patrol, but the others were pushing harder than usual and Eomer knew they trusted him. Trust went far in the Riddermark. Hence his shouts of frustration upon returning to a herald rushing his way and telling him that you had gone into labor. Luckily only about an hour and a half back. He had plenty of time. Running to the halls of healing and all but throwing open the great doors, Eomer barreled in and was met with your smile, then your cry for him, to which he ran to your side and took your hand at once.
~
"It's a boy," he panted hours later, hand aching from your grip and mind fatigued by pained screams, "our son is here." How in this world could you have endured it all if it drained even a bystander so? What a warrior you were. And what a warrior your son would be! Taking in the cleaned babe being placed in your arms, the enamored smile upon his beloved wife's face, the great rush of joy finally overtook him, all pain and exhaustion melting away for a brief moment. "Our son is here!" He called out again, this time louder, more triumphant, and when you spoke it also in your softer tone Eomer pulled you gently by the back of your head into a kiss that spoke volumes, every year of your love story thus far and all of them to come.
Eowyn
The pains of birth were no stranger to your wife; in fact, Eowyn recognized them before you did, cutting into your panic that something was going wrong with the reassurance that things were going quite right. “Our baby is coming,” she told you with a small smile that quickly faded back down when your knees buckled. She was prepared for this, very prepared. Having been forced into work as a nurse for so long had some benefits, after all, and very quickly your things were in hand, your body settled into the most comfortable position possible, and your wife rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair to get to work. Her own child would not be the first she had delivered, simply her favorite by far. Spikes of pressure fought their way up Eowyn’s chest, but just like in the heat of battle they spurred her on and she got to work with renewed courage.
~
“You are doing so well, my love, there we are,” your wife coaxed, “almost done, in fact! Our little one is almost here!” “Really?” You smile widely before your next wince and Eowyn can see her words have encouraged you. You pushed with all you had, and crying out finally forced the head, then finally the whole of your child, out into the world. Eowyn cut the baby free quickly as she could, all her focus tied down to making sure she heard breath before she let herself truly look. At the first call of little lungs she sighed and collapsed down upon her knees, hugging the baby to her chest. “Healthy, perfectly healthy.” Hurriedly cleaning your child, Eowyn saw that you had delivered a girl. “You’ve birthed a healthy girl. We have a daughter, my love!” Hearing you sob, she hurried quickly over to your side. “We both did,” you told her, reaching out to caress your daughter’s reddened cheeks, “Both her mothers birthed her. Where would I be, after all, without you?” It was Eowyn’s turn for tears to fall at your words, smiling as she was when you pulled her close and kissed the crown of her golden head.
Haldir
Long, difficult months had led to the moment of your doubling over with the first pains of birth, hobbling out to where you could find a hand to lead you to the midwives. You were half-knelt at the side of a bed, gripping its post for dear life, when your husband burst in. “Your patrol,” you inquired between waves of pain. “Safely in the hands of another,” Haldir responded, hand groping for one of yours, hastily taking it, “and no, they blame neither of us. Nothing but the pain of death could have separated me from your side.” A smile crossed your face, but moments later another wave of pain split your smile into a cry of agony. “The little ones are coming very rapidly,” one of the midwives told you, “your labor will not be long, at the very least.” At that, you heard Haldir exhale in relief. After such difficultly carrying them, your struggles with the twins would soon abate. Soon they would be in your arms.
~
True to her word, the midwife saw you through every push of labor in just under three hours’ time, one of the fastest she had seen in her many years. Haldir’s grip upon your hand never faltered until the very moment one of the twins was placed wrapped up in his arms. The other held by you, exhausted, shocked, but joyous, tears of relief and celebration flowing. “Two daughters. Two fair and healthy little souls all our own,” Haldir remarked, his voice barely above a whisper and a stunned smile upon his lips as he glanced back your way. The moment your eyes met, tears fell from his, too, and you both let out another exhale in relief; shifting the little one in his arms, Haldir grasped your hand. Smiling up at your husband, despite every strain of pain and exhaustion upon your body, all you could feel was the glow of utter triumph and bliss. “I have said it countless times, I am sure, but you my fair maids have my sword, my word, my heart, my everything,” Haldir told you, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your head, then that of the baby girl in your arms.
Galadriel
How Galadriel managed to remain so calm amidst your heaving breaths and calls of alarm, amidst a healer and midwives forgetting their place and trying to move her from your side, surrounded by bodies and screams and heat and fluid so serene, you would never understand. The way you’d doubled over in the middle of your wife’s vision, failing to smother the choked cry that escaped your lips, and she’d simply risen from the water with wide eyes and a nod, taking your hand. Had she let go? Not as you could recall, though memories blended and faded through great waving curtains of pain. Your strength is beyond admirable, my love. Head swiveling to meet your wife’s intense blue gaze, you smiled faintly. Comparable only to your beauty, her voice teased in your mind. Smile growing, the rush of joy gave you strength for another push…
~
“A daughter,” Galadriel breathes your name, joy permeating every faint crack of her so even voice, “you have borne us a daughter!” You see her extend a hand, accept a cloth you assume shall dry your little one off, but the midwife swipes your newborn for a moment and your wife dabs your tears, then the sweat clinging to your forehead. Setting the small piece of white fabric on the table by your head, Galadriel lets her hand drop down to trace the curve of your cheek, the ring you placed upon her finger some years back on your wedding day sliding over it with a pleasant cool. Your daughter, clean and swaddled, is placed in your arms, and beaming down upon you, your wife takes your hand. “A beautiful gift unlike any this world has seen,” she speaks out loud this time, though it is a whisper, “and surely with a heart as strong as her mother’s.”
Arwen
Pain rushed to you so rapidly it was as though you were stabbed. Crumpling and crying out was how your wife found you, rushing in with skirts held at her sides and dropped just as quickly so Arwen’s hands could close around both of yours, words of worry followed by encouragement whispered between you. Her father was the greatest healer you knew, thus he was to aid in his grandchild’s birth, the first of his family. Elrond was calm when through the veil of your pain you saw your wife bring him into the room, brows faintly furrowed as he pulled back his sleeves. Your hearing practically faded- or was it simply your memory?- as he began giving quiet but firm commands to another elf that followed.
~
Vision blurred with tears, you fell back against the downy pillow, breathing ragged. Much as Lord Elrond could do for you, the pain was still great. "The cord is severed!" You heard him announce and your head snapped back up to see your son in his grandfather's arms, hear him wail as breath filled his lungs. "Our little boy," Arwen grips your arm, grinning down at you, "He is here! Go on, Ada, keep us waiting no longer." Shaking his head at her teasing, Elrond gave you a wide, tearful smile as he lowered your son. Smoothing his dark hair, Arwen gazed down at him with loving eyes before leaning over to you, kissing your lips with such love and joy both of you were smiling into it. "My dearest love, he is so beautiful. Just like his mother."
Elrond
"My lord, your wife-" Lindir needn't say more. Elrond is already gathering up his robes and abandoning entirely the parapet on which he stood, regretting leaving you for a moment even if you had insisted he take some time while you rest. Hurrying down the staircase to your shared room, Elrond finds you sitting bolt upright in bed, brows furrowed and hand resting upon your middle. "I must get to the-" "No," calm as he is, Elrond seems to have developed a habit of interruptions, he thinks, "the midwife will come to you. Lindir?" "Sending for her now, my lord." At Elrond's side, you whimper. All too well does he remember this anguish; nodding, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Lie still. You will be well."
~
Thank the Valar for healing magic; soon your screams melt into whispers shared between you and your husband and winces become faint, tired smiles. Elrond feels the strain of each push upon you, but marvels at your strength, the midwife all but telling you to slow down. "I beg your pardon," you reply, gritting your teeth, "but I must be free of this!" And free you are, for not long later cries fill the air and tears of relief and joy spill down your cheeks. Elrond caresses your face and meets your eyes with a tearful smile; never does this moment stale, in fact nothing in this world can compare. As soon as the bundle is placed in your hands, you hold your newborn out between you, Elrond taking hold and reaching out his other hand, which your daughter grasps. "She looks just like her mother," he tells you with a smile. "But hopefully she inherited her father's wisdom," you tease back with a tired grin.
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tan1shere · 11 days
Text
Breathe
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: it's 3 am and I just thought of this. This is so rare for Ms tann to have motivation omg. Anyways enjoy !
Summary: you had been working yourself to the bone, flat out. Causing your girlfriend to worry about you.
Warnings: bit angsty, reader is stressed, panic attack, but fluffy ending MUAH
Masterlist
Frantic.
Your movements were frantic your whole brain was frantic. Speeding up with what you had to get done. It's as if time crept up on you. It was midnight and you couldn't sleep, all because of this thing you needed to do for work. You didn't want to get fired or anything. And that's the constant thing rattling round your brain.
'You're gunna get sacked.'
'You'll loose your spot.'
'They will think you're pathetic'
"What're you doing up love?" You then hear your girlfriend yawn. "Sorry Bills I didn't mean to wake you." She rubs her eyes adjusting to the light you had on in the living room. "You didn't babe. Why are you up this late?" You scatter the papers on the floor trying to find the one your after. "Bubba?" She then says a tad bit louder. "Hm? Oh, I needed to get this done, go back to bed billie-" "You come back to bed baby. You needa sleep." Your head just shakes. "Can't. I have to get this done." She lets out a sigh. "Please come to bed once your done." You mindlessly nod, still focusing on your work.
Days pass where this kept going on. Midnight, daily. She was getting really worried. Concerned. "Baby, it's your day off." She says looking at you scribbling something down on a piece of paper at the kitchen table. "I know but I forgot to do this." She sighs, her worry increasing. She goes to sit next to you. "Sweetheart." You hadn't heard her, too caught up with your burning thoughts. "Look at me." And you do, but not for long. Only to let her talk. "Your running yourself down, you need to take a break. Please." She pleaded.
But she knew deep down you wouldn't budge. You were definitely a hard worker. You didn't want her to worry either, you were fine. Right? "Its ok Bills once I'm done with this I will." "And when is that because it's been days." You continue to write. "Just a few more days." She sighs, standing up and leaving the room.
It was bad, truly bad. You haven't slept in 4 days, nearly 5 once the clock struck 12. You hadn't eaten. It's as if something was wrong with you, you had never done this before. Until the sleep deprivation kicked in. You felt it, feeling your lids slowly close. Your head going along with it, knocking out on the table. You hadn't even realized. That was until Billie came down, ready to shoot some sense into you, when she saw you dead asleep. She was so thankful. Tip toeing around to shut your laptop, when you wake back up again. "Fuck." She curses under her breath.
"Shit!" You say. "How long was I out for?" You ask her, that franticness coming back. "I dunno babe, you-" "No no no." You look at the clock. "It's 12. No..." Her eyes scan your face. Her worried look still evident. "Baby." She says sternly. Sensing what was approaching. "Oh God." You grab your chest trying to stay calm, but with the lack of sleep mixed with the lack of hunger your body just couldn't. A panic attack started to form.
Billie was quick to you, wanting to grab your face to get you to look at her, but truly not wanting to overwhelm you anymore. "Bub, please look at me." Tears build up, your breathing unsteady. "Baby, hey." Her voice was soft. "I-" You begin, feeling your chest tighten. "Can I touch you?" You finally look at her, nodding frantically, feeling like you're going insane. She was quick to grab your hand putting it on her chest. "Do your breathing. In.. and out." You shake your head but she just nods.
"Yes, in and out." Your eyes shut, trying so damn hard to focus on her voice. Then slowly your breathing comes back slightly. "There you go, that's it. Feel how still my heart is?" You nod, feeling her gently place her hand on your chest. "I want yours to be the same. Deep breath in, through your nose." You do so feeling a little bit calmer. "Then out." You breathe out, feeling the exhaustion finally hit you like a wave. "Few more times." She then says, feeling it still beating a bit fast. You nod, fixing your breathing until it was normal again. Things were silent. Until she spoke up.
"Talk to me sweet girl." Her thumb rubs under your eye, moving to the other. "I had to finish this stupid thing which I'm now coming to my senses was for no reason, I had time I don't know what got into me." That was a lie, you do know. And it was your evil coworker. She knew how hard you worked, knowing how intent you could sometimes be, she's the one who riled you up. "Bub." She knew you were lying too, she knew you better than anything. "Fucking Hannah. She's a stupid bitch oh my god. I absolutely hate her and the way she gets to me so easily." Billie grips both your hands in hers.
Making sure you're staying calm. "She bugs me too, I think you need to tell your boss because if anything she should be getting fired. Not you, because you haven't finished something in the right time. But her for being an evil fucking cunt." You sniffle, a small laugh to be heard. "Billie." "What! She is." You smile at her. "Thank you." You then say. "What for angel." Her hand comes to put any loose strand of hair behind your ear. "For being here, I feel like I've been awful." Her head shakes.
"So far from that, you've been working so hard even if it was worrisome. You were so determined and I admire you tons for that." Her words made you smile. "But I really do advice sleep, please." You nod. "Yeah.. I agree with you, I'm definitely feeling it now." She nods. "Dare I say good, its like you were a frozen statue over the past few days." You sigh a bit. "Sorry baby." She squeezes your hands, in an 'it's ok' way. "And Missy. You needa eat something." She then gets up grabbing a small snack from the fridge.
After that you get into bed with her for well needed rest. You turn to face her as her arm slings over your waist. "I missed you." She then says. "Missed snuggling with my girl."She finishes off. You give her a smile. "I'm sorry again, I truly am Billie I never wanted to worry you or for it to get so out of hand like it did." Her hand lands on your cheek so delicately. "Come to me in future my love, talk to me. That's what I'm here for yeah? I'm here for you always." Your body moves to cuddle hers, wrapping your arms around her. She holds you tightly. "From now on we talk hm?" Your head nods as you feel sleep taking over again. "We talk." - "Good." She kisses your forehead.
"I love you." You then say.
"I love you so much more."
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sat0sugu-angst · 2 years
Text
Fight Me, Fuck Me
a/n: happy valentiiiiiine's day!! Sorry this is a lil late i ended up picking up a shift at work so I wasn't able to finish it until this evening (which is kinda ironic ig but whatever). I seen a vid kinda similar (but less horny) on tt n couldn't resist imagining you and bkg getting in a fight on date night and lowkey being all hot n bothered with how yall are mean to each other 🙈 then w V-day around the corner I thought why the hell not lmao
wc: 3.5k
cw: afab!reader, reader is described as feminine but no pronouns are used, prohero!bkg, reader has a healing quirk and works at the hospital, yall can be toxic but that's why it's fun, established relationship, pet names (babe, my love), bakugo pays a lot of attention to your ass and thighs, reader and bkg are switchy asf, multiple orgasms, creampie, squirting, light spanking
all characters aged up +24
MDNI
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You were silent as you continued doing your makeup, looking past yourself in the mirror to find red eyes focused on you.
Considering it was Katsuki, there wasn't a lot of aggression in his expression, but still, his eyes on you pissed you off. "Can I help you?" You asked, your attitude seeping into your tone.
He sneered, pushing off the bed and walking into the bathroom. "Not unless you can hurry that lil' ass up." He shot back. "We're gonna be late."
You and your boyfriend had impossible schedules. With you regularly pulling doubles at the hospital and Katsuki working his way up the hero rankings, you didn't often get a night off together for date night. Even the important couples holiday, Valentine's Day, was a day neither of you could take off. So this year, you decided to celebrate your own V-day, nearly two and a half weeks after the actual holiday.
The problem was you had mixed up your days, rushing home from the hospital in a flurry after getting a confirmation call that afternoon about the reservation from Katsuki’s assistant. You felt guilty, especially since he'd taken on planning the date night. But in typical Katsuki fashion, he'd blown up at you, yelling his head off as soon as you walked through the door. Then, despite your guilt, you were pissed at him.
"I told you on Tuesday that I was gonna be working today." You raised your brow, looking toward the bathroom with lips pursed. "If we're late, it's because you don't pay attention to anything I tell you."
"Babe, I already said I was sorry." You huff, unsatisfied. You turn back to your face in the mirror, reaching for your eyeliner. "And you told me that while I was in bed. You think I can remember the shit you tell me when I'm half asleep?"
You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your hand steady as you did your eyeliner fuming mad. "Nice apology, Katsuki." You said dryly.
He emerged from the bathroom, and as he passed behind you toward the door, you caught a whiff of the cologne you'd gotten him for his birthday. God, it smelled so fucking good. Normally when he wore it, it was only a matter of time before you were on top of him, unbuttoning his belt. Not now, though. Not unless you were gonna use the belt to strangle him. "Don't fuckin' talk to me about apologies. You're the one who forgot about tonight in the first place."
"I didn't forget!" You whip around to face him. You had crazy eyes, you knew, but fuck, your boyfriend made you feel crazy sometimes. "We had different dates down, and I couldn't exactly leave work immediately. There was a bus accident today. The hospital was overrun. I can't just leave when people need me."
"People are always gonna need you. They're always gonna need me. Doesn't mean we don't need each other." You stilled, recognizing your own words. You'd said them early in the relationship, the first time your jobs were making it hard to be together.
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? I can't even count how many dates we've had to cancel because you had a mission! But oh, because it's my job, it's a bad thing to be dedicated? Do you not take my job seriously?"
He groaned. "Babe. Do you know what I had to do to make tonight special for us? The strings I had to pull to get us a spot at this restaurant for tonight? If we were just gonna sit at home in our fucking underwear, it wouldn't be a big deal."
You were glaring, but turned your attention back to the real task at hand. "You know what, I can't even fucking talk to you right now. I need to finish getting ready." You could argue, or you could do your makeup. You could not do both.
He let out a bitter laugh. "Well, thank god for that!" He yells back, walking out of the room. You flushed with anger, the sudden urge to throw something at him. But you couldn't chase after him to scream anymore; if you really were late, you'd never hear the end of it.
Ten minutes later, you were off, heading toward the restaurant in silence. Well, silent except for the occasional passive aggressive sighs and grumblings about the music you passed back and forth during the twenty minutes it took to get there.
When you got there, the host offered to take your coats, and Katsuki’s hands were on your shoulders, helping you out of yours. The rough pads of his fingertips grazed over your shoulder, and you were acutely aware of his breath ghosting along your neck.
Fuck, you think, annoyed at the way goosebumps rise along your skin, always like a live wire when it came to his touch. You had to fight your body's urge to lean into his touch, your anger still simmering but somehow making everything hotter, more volatile. You needed to keep it together. You couldn't let him win the argument because you were a little horny.
The restaurant was elegant, elevated. The low light was warm against the white tablecloths, and you were glad you had purchased a new dress for the occasion.
Katsuki was dressed to impress, too; charcoal colored trousers and a black cashmere sweater. When he took off his own coat, you had to remind yourself not to check him out. At least not obviously.
You followed the host toward your table, Katsuki behind you. “Are you gonna be pissy the whole night?” He asked as you were sitting down, realizing the attitude had yet to leave your expression. He couldn’t admit the reason it’d taken him a second to realize you were still pissed was because he’d been too focused on the way your dress hugged your curves, or how he had wanted to run his hands over your hips as he’d taken your coat. No, he wouldn’t admit the reason his ears were red was because he couldn’t stop thinking about dragging your ass to a restroom, or back to the car, to fuck you so hard you forget about why you were mad in the first place.
You sneered at him, about to pop off with an insult, and maybe a curse or three, but you were greeted quickly by your waiter.
Katsuki ordered wine for you, and a dirty martini for him.
When the waiter left, you shot a narrowed look to your boyfriend. “I’m not pissy.” It was a blatant lie, but you couldn't be bothered to care about being fair.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. You have been since you got home.”
“Well, I kinda had a shitty day,” you said, honestly. “Can’t imagine why you thought yelling at me would make me feel better.”
“Babe, really? You were supposed to be off today, then you text me that you were staying late. And you still stayed later than you said. I almost lost the fuckin’ table tryna change the reservation. We don't get to do this often, I'd like my fucking girlfriend to at least pretend to be excited about it.”
You groan a little, trying to not be loud and draw attention. This is not the place you wanted to have this argument, especially with someone as explosive as Katsuki, but you weren’t ready to concede, because if you did, he’d think he was right. “I told you since last week that I’d picked up the extra shift, on this day, and you didn’t say anything. I didn't do it to spite you, and I don’t really appreciate being blamed for an honest mistake as if I did it to piss you off. We’re here, aren’t we?”
“Yes, and this is just how I wanted to spend the evening with you.” He said dryly, sneering and turning his attention to the menu, effectively ending the conversation.
The rest of dinner, and even the drive home, was much of the same. Neither of you were able to drop the bickering long enough to really talk about anything. Over the course of the meal, one martini had turned into two, and you’d finished off the bottle of wine. You both were still mad, senses dulled, and emotions amplified. When you glared at him, you couldn’t help but focus on the shape of his eyes, how pretty he looked even when he was mad.
And all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck the attitude right out of you. Every sneer, every glare sent his way, pissed him off, but he couldn’t deny how fucking sexy you were when you were mad. Without even trying, you had him half hard in his pants, like he was some fucking teenager on his first date. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even by the time you’d gotten home.
He rounded the car to I open the door for you, offering you a hand. You raised your brow at him, but let him help you out the car. Katsuki set his hand on the small of your back, just barely above your ass, only because he needed to touch you. He wanted to get you hot and bothered, until you were begging for him.
The heat from his hand did stir something low in your stomach, and you tried not to show how he affected you, not even looking in his direction. As his hand dropped from your back, his fingertips grazed your ass, and you rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door. “Don’t think that’s gonna make me forget I’m mad at you.”
"Tsk," he clicks his tongue at you, pushing open the door and flashing that smug smile he knew you couldn't resist. “You can be mad at me and still want me to fuck you.” He said shamelessly.
You felt your face heat at his boldness, and you had to look away, focusing on the door as he pushed it open. He moved, if only slightly, for you to walk in passed him, and you fought to maintain your composure. You loved it when he was like this, and he knew it was a sure way to get you in the mood and give whatever he asked of you.
He wasn’t wrong, either. You weren’t even really sure why you were still fighting, other than that you were being stubborn and, in a sick way, loved fighting with your boyfriend.
You walked past him, keeping your expression level. Katsuki watched you move through the house, following you into your shared bedroom. Despite your efforts, he saw right through you; he was certain he could have you apologizing and begging him to give you attention.
But you were determined, and when you wanted, could be even more stubborn than your boyfriend. Through the wine, or maybe because of it, you knew you’d succumb to him eventually. You always did, and happily. Tonight though, you wanted him to fold first.
So, you took your time getting undressed, going so far as to ask for Katsuki’s help unzipping your dress when you could've done it easily, letting it pool around your ankles before you stepping out of it. As you stood in front of your dresser, examining its contents and deciding what pajamas to slip into, Katsuki slipped his hands around your waist, settling on your hipbones. He pulled you back into him, and you felt him, hard, pressing again the small of your back.
You bit your lip, stifling the urge to lean into him, to rub against his erection, or worse, let out the sweet moan that threatened to expose you. After so many years together, he knew exactly what would make you crumble, and fuck, you almost did.
“I’m trying to get ready for bed.” You say instead, voice clipped. You reached for a pair of black shorts from the drawer, but his hand was covering yours, intertwining your fingers. Fighting to keep your expression even, you leveled a glare on him as he leaned over your shoulder. “You really wanna piss me off tonight, don’t you?”
“Definitely wanna do somethin’ to ya.” He shoots back quickly, the thumb at your hip rubbing slow circles into your skin, promising more. You narrowed your eyes. There was no way you could resist him, you needed to act quickly.
You turned around, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand was on your ass now, fingers squeezing and pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand flat on his stomach, trying to put some space between the two of you. You were flushed now, and he knew it. “C’mon,” his finger came up from under your chin, forcing you to look right at him as he smiled sweetly at you. “Don’t be a sore loser. Admit it. You’re turned on.”
You lean up onto your toes, pressing your lips against his, reaching down and untucking his shirt the best you could. He helped you, getting his belt undone and stepping backward out of his slacks as you pushed him back toward the bed.
He was pulling his shirt off as he sat on the edge of the bed, before pawing at your hips so you were sitting in his lap. The heat of him pressed right against you was delicious, and you rolled your hips against him. He swallowed your sighs as your tongues danced together, flushing with pride at the noises you pulled from him.
He was impatient, meeting the wave of your hips with thrusts of hie own. But this pesky fabric between the two of you. "Fuckin’ take these off already.” He grumbled, pulling at the fabric of your underwear where it covered your ass, and you wasted no time getting rid of your last layers of clothing.
He nearly cried out as you lowered yourself on top of him, leaning into you so that you could feel his heavy breath tickling your neck. You allowed yourself to enjoy it momentarily, before pushing his shoulder with a finger so he was laying back on the bed, his legs over the edge of the bed. You squeezed around the tip of his cock as you got used to the stretch. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” You hid your satisfied smile by leaning down, sucking kisses from his chest up his neck. With each hitch of his breath, every moan, you rewarded him, clenching around him, or shifting the angle of your hips, lowering down until he was pressed flush against you.
You were used to the stretch, but with the way he filled you, and the lovely friction against your clit, you could already feel how the tension in your stomach was ready to snap. You needed to calm down before you came undone, biting into his shoulder as you found the rhythm that would make him crumble.
The drag of his cock along your walls had you clenching, and then you started to feel the telltale signs that he was close. His fingers tightened on your hips, almost painfully so, unable to control the way he thrusted up into you.
"You gonna come?" You cooed, sitting up a little, pulling out slowly and dropping down on his cock. He looked so close, his eyes fluttering each time he filled you. His resolve was crumbling, too lost in the feeling of you around him to remember that you were the one who was supposed to be one begging.
"Fuck," He whimpered when you clenched around him. You settled your hands on either side of his chest, leaning forward so you could keep bouncing on his cock. "You wanna come, my love?" You ask, crumbling at how Katsuki blushes under you. He nods, melting for you. You lean forward, pressing a messy kiss against him. You were close, too. If you looked at that expression one more second, you'd come undone.
You shift the angle of your hips, and he let out a clumsy grunt, fingers squeezing the fat of your hips for some stability. "Fuck, baby, just like that. I'm gonna—"
That's when you lift your hips, until only his tip is inside you, and still. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. He cries out, a moan turned sour as deny him. You smile down at him, and he knew by that look in your eyes that he was in for it.
You leaned down, lips brushing over his slightly as you said, "I'd like to see you beg me to let you come." He couldn't even find it in himself to be mad, not with the way you looked above him, your hair messy from him running his fingers through it, the light sheen of sweat on your skin from riding him so well. He doesn't care who was supposed to punish who, not when he was so close to coming, not if all it would take was a little begging.
You continued edging him, bouncing up and down on him until he got close, then cockwarming him until he calmed down. His sweet pleas grew more desperate. You almost let him when you came yourself, squeezing around him uncontrollably as you stilled on top of him to ride out your orgasm, and he nearly lost it at the feel of you so tight around him.
But even though you came, you weren't done with him, continuing to roll your hips over him, looking right into his eyes as you fuck him.
He has tears pricking his eyes, and he's whimpering. “Baby, please. Please let me come. I’m fucking sorry for yelling at you today. I got lost in wanting things to be perfect, but I was an ass for getting mad.” Your expression softens for your boyfriend, and before you can even speak, he’s leaning in. His kiss is rough, hurried, and he’s thrusting up into you harder now than before, shifting so he hits that spot that has you moaning into his mouth. Unexpectedly, you fall into your next orgasm, and he feels you clenching. “Baby, please can I come?”
Words elude you, so you simply nod, leaning against his chest and resting your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself as he uses you to finish. He’s twitching inside you, and after only a couple more thrusts, you feel his warmth flood your cunt, as he fucks you through both your orgasms.
You’re breathing heavily, body feeling heavy as you lay on top of him, hands still resting on your ass, holding you against him. You feel his cum, and yours, seep out of you onto him, but he makes no move to get up to clean.
“I’m sorry, too.” You say softly, tracing your finger over his chest. You look up at him, and his gaze is already on you. “I was being kind of a bitch. I just…felt guilty, for almost ruining tonight, but it was easier to be mad at you than admit I messed up.” You feel your cheeks heat, looking away from him and resting your ear against his chest. “So, I’m sorry for being so sour all night. And for getting the day wrong.”
He rolls you both over, easily moving you both so your head was back against the pillows, still snuggly pressed inside you. Still hard, you realize. “Cute apology, but I can’t let you off that easy. You were a bitch tonight.” His eyes shine wickedly, his smirk smug as he pulls slowly out of you. You whine at the lovely drag of his cock along your walls.
He leans down and, kissing you hard, knocks the breath out of you with the way he thrusts back into you. “I'm not done with you, yet." He thrusted into you again again, hitting that spot that had you already craving a third orgasm.
You’re gasping curses, then his name, as he fucks you, slowly but with strength and precision. You couldn't help digging your nails into his back as you feel the first wave of your orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna come again." You say breathlessly, and bite into his neck as you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck right as you come. You feel a rush of liquid, making a mess between your thighs and dripping down your ass, ruining the sheets beneath you.
The way you're clenching around him has him seeing stars, and feeling you squirt around him spurs him into his next orgasm, keeping himself buried in you as he cums. You pull him in for a kiss as he fills you, his lips grounding you as you come down, chests heaving against each other.
~~~
After showering and changing the sheets, you’re back in bed, curled up into his side and playing with his hair. You’re both smiling, fucked out and tired, though unwilling to end the night. “We should just sync our calendars.” You say finally. “That way we won’t get anything confused, and we can avoid pissing each other off.”
His hand, which had settled on your hip, landed a couple light smacks on your ass. “I don’t think I mind us pissing each other off. Not with the way you fight.”
You roll your eyes, grinning even as your face heats. “Please, you were the one who couldn’t stop pawing at me when we got home.”
He snorts. “You liked it,”
“Yeah,” you say absently, eyes growing heavy. “I guess if we settle our arguments like that, I don’t mind getting into a fight every now and then.”
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a/n: thanks so much for reading! I hope you like this spicy little valentine's treat <3 if you did, pls lmk with rbs and comments! happy v-day <3
taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme
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leahsgirl · 18 days
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dramatic much | ella toone x female reader
veryyy short ella blurb to get back out there. no warnings.
sorry for my disappearance - writers block got the complete best of me and i hate every draft i make.
ella busied herself in the kitchen, occasionally stopping stirring the sauce in the pan to re-read the recipe on her phone.
some may say she’s been a little too aspirational in opting to make a three course meal for herself and you, considering she can barely make a bowl of cereal without something going wrong. but with her being away so much with with international duty and pre-season duties lately and little time for just the pair of you - she wanted to do something special.
in all fairness, everything was going to plan. she prepped the veg in advance, seasoned the chicken, and is yet to call alessia to come and save her (and the meal).
but nothing is ever easy in the world of ella toone, so as the brunette was jamming along to one of her notorious spotify playlist as well as peeling potatoes; she accidentally managed to slice her finger.
“fuckin’ el” she retracted her hand back in a jolt, watching in horror as blood pumped out of the small but painful cut.
she’s pretty sure this is the end, any minute now and she’s going to die from a haemorrhage which is why in a swift motion - like any self respecting adult would do - she whipped out her phone from her back pocket.
“hey babe.”
“how far away from home are you?”
“about five mins-ish, why?”
“i’m gonna die man! you need to hurry up.”
“what do you mean, what have you-“
but ella hung up and there you was; heart rate through the roof as you sat driving your car. it didn’t take long for you to get back though, probably breaking a few speed limits here and there.
“ella?” calling out as soon as you entered the premises.
“in the kitchen!”
you find the girl hunched over the counter-top, about thirty pieces (not an understatement) of kitchen roll wrapped around her hand. “what have you done?”
“bloody sliced my finger open.” you see the half peeled vegetables on the chopping board and piece two and two together, letting out an airy laugh “let me have a look.”
ella propped herself up onto the counter as you gently unravelled the tissue paper to reveal… a small cut. barely a nick, really, but enough to have your dramatic girlfriend convinced she was at death’s door. “oh my god you are such a hypochondriac.” 
“mate it was like a blood bath in here i nearly died.” the mancunian defended herself as you hummed along amused, searching for the first aid kit.
“it’s your fault too.” she vindicated.
“of course it is.” you said with a grin, playing along “what did i do?”
“if i wasn’t cutting potato’s for this meal i was making for you, then it wouldn’t of happened.” she huffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“or maybe you and the kitchen just aren’t meant to be.” you opened a sachet of antiseptic wipes and motioned for her hand. “but i love the thought and effort.” you kissed her lips while slying cleaning the wound.
“shit shit shit!” the brunette pulled back and immediately went to wave her hand to stop the stinging “what you do that for?!”
“would your dramatic ass let me do it if i had told you? the answer is no.” you smiled sweetly at her and put a plaster over the cut. “there. all better.”
“wait you forgot something.” looking expectantly at you as you cleared away the rubbish. “what?”
“kiss it better?” you laughed at the childish behaviour but gave in, conceding a quick peck on her finger. “i’ve never known anyone as dramatic as you, ella toone.”
“good thing you love me isn’t it?” she hopped off the kitchen surface and smacked your butt.
“mhm. now go get changed so i can put that shirt in the wash.” pointing to the scattered red marks on the material.
“fine, but i’m stealing your hoodie.” she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bedroom.
_
well what was supposed to be ella’s culinary masterpiece ended up being your handiwork. after convincing the girl she’d done enough damage for one night, you took over in the kitchen, following the recipe she found. to your surprise, the meal turned out pretty tasty. ella hovered around you the entire time, watching your every move like an eager student, offering unhelpful advice and distracting you with cheeky kisses. not that you minded—it was nice to see her so invested, even if it meant she spent more time fussing over her finger than actually helping
with dinner over and dishes abandoned in the sink, the pair of you was settled on the sofa, scouring the tv for literally anything to watch. ella was cuddled into your side, messing with the remote as you combed your fingers through her hair.
“why don’t we see what’s on netflix? i think there’s some new shows out.”
“ugh there’s nothing good on netflix anymore.” the brunette moaned.
“you’re so hard to please sometimes y’know.” you teased as you took the remote off her and put on a movie both of you liked, one that you watched together more times than you can count “happy?”
ella nodded, “i’ll go grab some snacks.” she manoeuvred off you and the couch, bending down to steal a kiss on the corner of your mouth, the brief contact leaving you grinning. you watched her disappear into the kitchen, hearing the familiar clatter of cupboards opening and the rustle of packaging as she gathered your favorites.
she was back after a couple of minutes, hands now full with a bowl of popcorn, a bar of chocolate and two cans of pop. “here you go m’lady.” she said with a mock bow, gracefully placing the bowl on your lap and handing you one of the drinks. “thanks babe.”
she went to the other couch and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders like a cloak and making her way back to her personal pillow (you).
“ah! shit shit shit!” the older girl was now hopping around holding her foot.
“literally what’s just happened?” you look on in disbelief because realistically how many accidents can this girl get herself into.
“stubbed my bastard toe.” ella hissed through gritted teeth “think i’ve broke it, swear I heard a crack”
“oh for fucks s-“
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mikobeautifulheart · 5 months
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How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.
IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.
TEHEHE YESSSS
Not edited btw :(
Weak spot
Including: Yuji and Yuta
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Yuji
You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.
Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.
You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.
Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?
First you looked under the couch.
Then his desk draws.
And then in the book shelfs.
Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.
Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.
You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"
You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.
"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"
"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.
"What were you looking for?" He asked
"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"
"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.
(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)
Yuta
You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.
You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.
Man this sucks.
You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.
Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.
You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.
"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.
You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.
A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.
"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.
"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.
"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
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AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.
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yawntutsyip · 6 months
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 ─ when you bake something for them and it turns out horrible. (yuji, megumi, gojo)
warnings: none that I know of // SHITTY WRITING
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𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈:
When Yuji got home he was greeted by the smell of…well something was cooking.
“Babe, I'm home!” He announces and walks to the kitchen after taking his shoes off to see you standing there with a proud smile on your face and a plate of cookies in front of you.
“I made cookies for you! Try some!”
“Wow! Thank you baby” Yuji says excitedly and gives you a peck on the cheek before grabbing a cookie and taking a big bite, all excitement washed away.
Yuji chews waiting for the delicious sweetness to hit but it never does, all he got was immediate salt so he slows down his chewing and looks back at you and begins to feel bad.
You looked so proud standing there waiting for him to finish, you worked hard making these for him, how could he break your little heart. He just couldn’t.
“Mmm!” Yuji hums out with a forced smile as he swallows the horrid food. 
“I love my significant other I love my significant other  I love my significant other I love my significant other-” he repeats in his head and goes in for another bite, hands shaking, taste buds screaming.
‘WHY WAS IT SPICY? AND SALTY?’
“These are so good-” He begins but his body betrays him and causes him to gag, nearly spitting it back up.
“Yu? Is everything alright?” You say worried as you watch your boyfriend fight against throwing up.
“Y..ye..yeah baby, totally great! These cookies! Hahahaha so….gag so good!” 
Concern growing on you, you reach and grab one of the cookies to taste for yourself and ask the same question in your head.
‘WHERE DID THE SPICE AND SALT COME FROM?!’
Immediately you spit the food out in a napkin you quickly grab and shout at Yuji “SPIT IT OUT BABE!….DON’T KEEP EATING IT?!”
“No really babe it's not that bad!” He argues while trying to eat more but before he could you force it out of his mouth and quickly sweep all them away straight into the garbage and make him rinse his mouth in the sink.
“Why did you keep eating it?!?”
“You worked so hard..” He pouts at you.
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𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈:
Megumi is a bit more straight forward than the others unfortunately. 
You and Megumi were chilling at your house, he was working on some homework while you were jamming in the kitchen attempting to make a chocolate cake with the ingredients you had at your house, some ingredients missing but you didn’t care.
“GUMI BEAR!” You scream for him. “I told you not to call me that, it's embarrassing…” He grumbles and appears behind you in a second, looking over your shoulder at the supposed cake you made. 
His face says it all, with his eyebrows furrowed with a sour look on his face. “I made a cake! I know it doesn’t look the prettiest…I forgot to let it cool off before I put the frosting on and it crumbled but I'm sure it tasted good…”
You grab some on a fork and place it in front of Megumi’s face so that he could taste it.
He shakes his head no at first but as you keep pestering him and he finally stops grumbling and takes the tiniest bite. “Yep it's good”
“You didn’t even eat it! You just tasted the fork! Come on, just try it”
With more groans and mumbles coming from him and more pestering coming from you, you finally get him to take a full bite of the cake you made.
You feed it to him and watch as he chews only once and quickly spits it out in an instant.
“That was disgusting.” He tells you but instantly regrets it as he watches the smile fall off your face and turn into a frown.
“...Sorry babe…” 
After you taste it for yourself you agree that he was not exaggerating because you had the same reaction when you got a crunch in your bite that was not supposed to be there. “Oh yeah what was not good…”
Megumi pulls you into his embrace while giving a light peck to your temple. “How about we make another one but together?”
WHILE THE TWO OF YOU ARE MAKING IT: “hand me the sugar please” “…babe did you use this earlier?” “yeah why?” “this is salt. You used salt instead of sugar.”
“OHHHHHHH well they look similar you can’t blame me…” You shrug sheepishly and go to crack the eggs but Megumi stops you.
“How about…I do the eggs…you can stir it”
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎:
Gojo was finally done with the last minute mission that he got sent and was now on his way back to his lovely significant other who was waiting at his house so patiently.
“ANGEL CAKES I'M HOME~ did you miss me?” he screams as he walks in the front door expecting to be greeted immediately with you at the door but you aren't there.
With a big frown on his face he walks further in the house to which then he hears you calling him from the kitchen. “In here my love! I got a tasty surprise for you!”
Books it to the kitchen with a cheeky smile on his face, once he sees you he’s slightly disappointed the surprise wasn't you on the counter, but a plate of cookies instead, a man could dream.
“I made you cookies! Tadaaaaa!” You tell him while shoving the plate in front of him and greeting him with a kiss.
In your guy's relationship Gojo does the cooking and baking. From knowing you since you both were in diapers, he has had previous experiences with you and your cooking to know whatever you made was about to taste like an absolute abomination. 
“NOW! Before you say anything, I know I’m not the best at cooking but this time I followed the recipe step by step! So they should taste good…how hard could making simple cookies be? Taste them!”
Gojo hesitates but seeing you look so proud of yourself made him let his guard down. “Alrighty, hand one over then lets see” He gives in and takes the cookie you handed him, taking a bite before the horrid familiar taste hits his tongue. He quickly makes a gesture that he needs something to drink with a smile and when you turn your back to him he quickly opens the garbage with his foot and spits out while chucking the cookie in after, if you can even call it that.
You turn back around and hand him a glass of water. “Woah! You finished it already?! Was it good?” You grin at him while clapping your hands.
The man felt bad that even when following a simple recipe you had no talent when it came to baking, “Very good! I ate a lot of kikufuku on the way here so i'm full but i’ll eat some later cutie”
Later that night, when he made sure you were deep asleep he throws them all away and quickly stuffs other things to hide his crime.
Next morning: “Toru? What happened to all the cookies I made last night?” “I got so hungry in the middle of the night and they were so good that I ate them all! Sorry angel!”
“Oh?! Okay I’ll just make more then! Look I’m improving-“
“NO!…no more cookies, save your baking for a special time…hehe”
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Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈
JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!
Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!
Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao
Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻‍♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩
Judd smut in Y/n’s car
Word count; 3,9K
(smut under the cut)
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Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window. 
He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door. 
“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.
You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.
The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money. 
He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you. 
“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it. 
Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops. 
(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend) 
His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back. 
Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,” 
He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?” 
You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,” 
Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled. 
You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app. 
Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously. 
“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly. 
He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car. 
You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window. 
It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.
Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her. 
You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?” 
Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.
Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement. 
Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”
“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?” 
Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle. 
The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly. 
‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh. 
You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,” 
Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’  She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression. 
“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw 
“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.
You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck. 
He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.
Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats. 
“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.
Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers. 
Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.
The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.” 
Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis. 
You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house. 
“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.
Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands. 
Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.
He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.
Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head. 
You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth. 
You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him. 
He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him. 
You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed. 
“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further. 
His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered. 
“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him. 
Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything. 
‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on. 
Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand. 
He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.
Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger. 
“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer. 
You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis. 
“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left. 
Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” 
You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans. 
He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again. 
The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!” 
“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.
Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers. 
Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest. 
He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.” 
Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands. 
He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees. 
You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out. 
You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking. 
“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. 
On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you. 
“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.
Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back. 
He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you. 
You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you. 
“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.” 
You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.
He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you. 
You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.
When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips. 
He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?” 
You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.
Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him. 
He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved. 
It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move. 
“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides. 
You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.” 
You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him. 
The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.
“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.
His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.
He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation. 
When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing. 
‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function. 
Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored. 
“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.
Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.” 
You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.” 
“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple. 
Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.
God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋
Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)
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sirenlulls · 11 months
Text
get him back! → theburntchip
pairing , theburntchip x youtuber!reader
summary , where, in lieu of yours and chip’s reconnection, fans find out how it happened, and just why you ended things in the first place.
part one (bad idea, right?)
oh, i wanna get him back! 'cause then again, i really miss him, and it makes me real sad
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🔴 Y/n L/n Talks On Breakup, Reconnection, The Launch Of Her Brand, & More! FULL POD EP.77 -Saving Grace
join premiere!
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LIVE CHAT !
user: stop i’m actually gonna cry ☹️☹️☹️
user: I KNEW THOSE TWITTER B WORDS WERE WRONG I KNEW THEY DIDNT END BADLY
user: that’s so lala land of them
user: “if i ever complained, i’d be the nagging girlfriend” NO BABY 😭😭😭😭
user: never thought i’d say it but i’m glad they broke up bcs if they hadn’t done it then, it would’ve been MESSY messy
user: off topic but can we please talk about how pretty she is :(
user: “if he ever complained about you, i would’ve given him a belting” YES GRACE 👏👏👏
user: WHY DIDNT WE GET Y/N ON HERE SOONER OMGGGGGG I LOVE THIS DUO SM
user: Sending love from Brazil! XX 🇧🇷🇧🇷❤️❤️
user: stop that’s so sad ☹️
user: she’s so real for the anxiety thing
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LIVE CHAT !
user: i feel like i’m watching a tv show
user: “i don’t want to lose this again” and when i start sobbing????
user: ok but is the dick game good
user: HE SWIPED UP ON A COSTA TOASTIE ☠️
user: nah he’s down BAD me too but like 😭
user: he def would’ve thrown a temper tantrum if she didn’t respond
user: grace booing is so real i wanted a kissing in the rain screaming ‘i love you’ confession
user: her smile when she said she’s happy now man they’re literally my parents ☹️
user: Love you both X ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
user: ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
user: the world is healing
user: NAH MAN SWEAR THATS CHIPS BOICE COMING IN NOW
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LIVE CHAT !
user: i’m actually gonna cry i missed them sm ☹️😭
user: the camera switching to her looking at him with heart eyes after calling him a bellend is so funny GET HER ASS 👏
user: chip is the new an*rew t*te 🙏
user: oh how i missed him calling her lady and missus
user: he’s the leader of the sassy man epidemic oh lord
user: OMG I FORGOT WHEN SHE YSED TO GO ON COFFEE DATES WITH HIS MUM
user: leave my girl and her spotify playlists alone
user: this has literally made my year
user: just in time for y/n’s fall vids
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[tagged: savinggracepod , gkbarry_ , theburntchip]
❤️ liked by georgeclarkeey, georgebxggs, and 98,992 others
yourusername mum! mum! i made it! i’m on saving grace!!!!!! (and i figured i deserved at least one pic of chip from the launch x)
user that episode was the funniest thing ever i can’t even i nearly pissed myself when grace pretended to spank u with the paddle 😭😭😭
user mother ur so gorg i’m speechless
user you know the content is gonna slap when y/n l/n is there
user im so obsessed with u pls
user CAL AND CHIP AT THE FUNCTION SIR 👏🙇‍♀️
user best video in youtube history methinks
gkbarry_ loved having you on babe, even if the boss man gatecrashed 🫶❤️
yourusername he doesn’t like feeling left out smh
theburntchip oh alright then
max_balegde ICONIC!!!!!!
user MY ROMAN EMPIRE
user i hope you know that twt is in flames rn
user i gen teared up a bit when you talked about the breakup 🥹
user icons only
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[tagged: ynapparel , nellarose , theburntchip]
❤️ liked by landonorris, behzinga and 97,872 others
yourusername self representing by wearing @ ynapparel the past (and every) week 😩🤭 featuring the love of my life & chip ig…
theburntchip wow alright
theburntchip i thought you were a g 😔
yourusername oops sorry babe
theburntchip we’re over smh
yourusername oh no… what a shame ☹️ anyway… hot girl winter!!!!!!
theburntchip the fits are fire though 😮‍💨
yourusername as always x
user EATING SLAYING DEVOURING
user OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
user forever obsessed with u
user graduated from cuntingtion university with an phd in slaying
nellarose love you bae x
calfreezy chip looking dashing as per usual
theburntchip aye thank you brotha
nellarose AYYYY LOOKING SEXY 🔥🔥🔥🔥
yourusername ALL YOU BABY 💋💋💋
ynapparel looking good and dressed to kill 😉😇🩷
user face card NEVER declines
lissiemackintosh this barbie is my mother
user ur so real lissie
faithlouisak doll 🤩
alice_hez 😍🔥🖤
user WHATS THE SQUARE ROOT OF 64?????
user angel girl 🤍
centralcee 😮‍💨🔥🔥🔥🔥
user NAHHH HES BRAVE COMMENTING ON THE POST W HER BOYFRIEND
user CENCH GET OUTTA HERE MAN
user SIRENSIRENSIREN Y/N BABY RUN!!!!!
user OH??????
user wait am i missing smth why are we freaking out
user @ user cench has always been lowk flirting with y/n, like she interviewed him at some event last yr and he was being so flirty and obviously she was giving him blank wall back BUT when her and chip broke up he got even WORSE like man was always in her comments tryna chat her up and she entertained it a lil but now the bitch is back and he’s bold
user NAH MAN GTFO WE JUST GOT CHIP BACK IN THE PICTURE WE CANT HAVE U RUINING THAT
theburntchip just posted to their story
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