#purdie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

awritessomething · 9 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | brock purdy x fem!reader

requests

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | after the loss at the Super Bowl, Brock is understandably mad. His wife is there for him.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, pre-established relationship, use of Y/N, piv, unprotected sex, riding, switch!brock, soft!dom!reader, oral m!receiving, fingering, pet names, swearing praise, crying, lots of aftercare, fluff, angsty, sad!brock

My birthday was recently and the first thing I said on it was (no joke) “Brock purdy has a fat ass” WHAT.

Touchdown.

The long game that had been 22-19 (49ers lead) was ruined. The score was now 22-25. The Kansas City Chiefs won the Super Bowl. Cameras panned to where the Chiefs celebrated. They showed Taylor Swift celebrating in the crowd.

They didn’t show the way Brock Purdys wife just immediately dropped to her seat. She put her head in her hands. It wasn’t that she was the one who was sad, it was that she was sad for Brock. He had played amazingly and it was all seemingly for nothing.

Everything was painful after that. The interviews, the autographs, everything. Y/N had pushed her way through the crowds to get to her husband. A security guard who hadn’t recognized her tried to stop her, but he failed. Brock was still a little bit in shock from the loss. Three seconds. Three seconds from a win.

The second that Y/N had his arms around him, it took everything not to break down. He clung to his wife, hiding his face in her hair as he tried not to shake so much. His arms were around her as his fingers were curling around her sweater.

She pulled back slightly to look at him, running her hand through his hair. She kissed him, feeling how shaky his breathing was. He was sweaty and a little bit gross smelling, but that was the least of her concerns.

The moment that they had the opportunity, the couple left. They went back to their hotel. Y/N held onto his hand, pushing her way through the crowds of fans or paparazzi. She wasn’t too worried about her reputation. Her elbow went out, jabbing anyone who got in their way as they went to their hotel.

Brock kept his eyes on her to try and ignore whatever else was happening. They went up to their hotel room and then she kissed him again.

“You did amazing today, baby.” She whispered to him. Brock rested his forehead against hers and sighed.

“I didn’t win though. It was just three se-”

“Shh, you did great.” She put her finger to his lips. She gave him a smile. “Think of it like this: you were three seconds away from winning.” She tried to reword it, but it kind of just sounded the same. Brock frowned.

“I need a shower.”

“Yeah, you do.” She laughed lightly and put her hand on his chest to push him towards the washroom. She opened the door for him and ran the water. It was rare for Brock to be getting the princess treatment. It wasn’t like he was going to complain though. Brock sat on the toilet seat while he waited. She stood beside the shower door, occasionally checking the water with her hand. She motioned for him to come.

Brock walked over to his wife. She looked up at him. Her hand touched his chest again as she frowned, feeling horrible for what he was experiencing. She pulled his shirt off of him. It was a bit of a hassle seeing as Brock was a 6’1 quarterback and she was… not. She had to do a bit of a hop to get it off of his arms.

He was unbelievably sore from the game. His whole body ached and he just wanted to lay down. Y/N got her husband under the water once she was also undressed. He looked down at her like she was the only reason why he was alive. Y/N knew how Brock wanted to just sit down and rest for a moment. She stepped out of the shower and snooped around for a moment. She found a little chair thing that seemed to be for old people or something. She grabbed it and got it in the shower.

“What is that?” Brock was confused when his wife walked into the shower, wrestling with some chair. She grunted and set it down, stumbling. Brock grabbed her waist to keep her from slipping.

“Sit.” She muttered, pointing at the chair. He frowned.

“Y/N-”

“Sit your ass in the chair.”

He sat.

Y/N grabbed the mini shampoo bottles and sat on his lap. She looked at him and touched his cheek softly before sighing. She stood back up for a moment and got the shower head. She held it in one hand, the shampoo bottles in the other.

Brock looked at his wife, his brows knit together. He looked like a sad puppy. She set the shampoo bottles down between their bodies so she could use both hands. She got his hair completely soaked. Her fingers ran through his hair and he let out a groan, head falling forward into her shoulder. She kissed his collarbone and then got the shampoo, rubbing it into his scalp. She massaged his scalp, her manicured nails scraping against his skin, relieving him of some of his tension. His fingers gripped at her hips.

Y/N whispered soft praises to her husband as she felt him begin to calm down in her arms. She kissed his collarbone softly and his cheeks too. His nose was her personal favorite to kiss.

She had washed him completely. His hair, his face, his whole body. Her hands hadn’t missed a single spot of him. They got out of the shower. Brock promised to repay her another time. She knew that he just meant he would repay her with a shower like that. She found that funny, since he did it often.

They laid down together in their hotel bed. Brock’s hair was still wet. Y/N had put her hair into the shower cap, since her hair had been perfectly fine before. They laid there in silence. She had her arms around him. His head was on her chest, nose nestled in the valley between her breasts.

Brocks fingers ran down Y/Ns waist, brushing over the bump of her hip showing where her bone was. Y/N shifted slightly beneath him. He lifted his head slightly.

“Whats wrong?” He asked, concerned.

“Nothing, baby. Aren’t you tired though?”

“Mm… not too tired for you.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. The first smile of the night. How could she resist? She kissed him back, fingers pushing into his damp hair. Y/N put her hand on him and managed to push him onto his back. It was easier to push him around in bed than on the field.

Her knees were on both sides of his legs. She arched her back and her chest pressed against his as their kisses grew more desperate. Brock, who was normally the top, was of course trying to get over her again. She tsked softly and kept him under her.

“You did enough work today. Let me take care of you, ok?” She whispered against his lips. Brock groaned and his eyes screwed shut as he felt her press her palm against his crotch. He bucked his hips up towards her hand. Y/N smiled and then pulled away, making her way between his legs. She pulled off his pajama bottoms and threw them aside. Brock watched her with glazed over eyes.

Her hand wrapped around his cock and his eyes screwed shut. It had been a while since they had sex. He had been too busy at practice and she had been working a lot recently. It must’ve been close to two or three months since the last time they had a chance to even touch themselves.

Y/N leaned forward and kissed his tip. He was long, maybe around 7.5 inches, yet on the slightly thinner side. There was a vein that went from the base of his cock and almost to his tip. His tip was a pretty soft pink. There was a beauty mark right on the spot where the tip of her nose ended up when she deep-throated him.

Brock reached down and stroked her hair softly as she took him into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his cock. She treated him as if she was an artist and he was a sugar cube that she wanted to carve artwork into without turning it into just powder. Brock’s head fell back in complete and utter bliss. She knew exactly how to please him. On many occasions, when Brock was away for a longer time, he would try to mimic what she did. He would try to do the things she did to him. She tried the way she gave him handjobs, but it was harder to cum by his own hand.

Y/N knew his body like the back of her own hand. Brock forced his eyes open as he gazed down at her, his eyes filled with just pure adoration. He loved his wife more than anything. She looked up at him as she sucked on his tip. Then she lowered her head back down. The tip of her nose pushed against that beauty mark.

Her hands gave his balls a soft squeeze, urging him to cum. Brock’s back arched slightly off the bed as he bit his lip. He had his hand on the back of her head as he was about to push her head a bit. She took his hand off of her head and just held if instead. Her eyes met his as she held his hand. The soft and loving act mixed with the way their bodies connected in such an intimate way was enough for Brock to be pushed over the edge.

His climax swept over him in waves, and she could taste it. Not waves as in the soft waves on a lake made by some rain, but the waves in the middle of the North Sea. Brock went to pull his hand away to try to hold back his moans, but she didn’t allow it. His head fell to the side as he panted and groaned. A whine came from his lips the moment she pulled off of him.

“Thank you,” Brock whispered as his wife stuck out her tongue to show that she swallowed. It wasn’t like he would do anything if she didn’t swallow, it was just out of habit. His hands reached for her desperately, in need of her warmth, in need of her love and attention.

Y/N hummed in response to his thanks. She leaned down and kissed him again, making him taste himself on her tongue. Brock grunted at the taste. Her hand was already around his cock again, slowly jerking him off. He jolted at the extra stimulation. His hand instinctively grabbed her wrist as his eyes rolled back.

Slowly but surely, Y/N managed to ease herself onto his cock. About halfway down, she was whimpering and burying her face in the crook of his neck. No matter how much they did this, she couldn’t get used to the sheer length of him. Brock closed his eyes as his hands gripped her hips, urging her to take him further. She slid down the other half with just a quick drop.

“Oh my- fuck!” She moaned and her nails dug into his shoulder. The man who sat under her looked at her, eyes half lidded. His eyes were clouded with love and desire. He leaned forward to kiss her while he tightened his grip on her waist to guide her to slowly roll her hips on his. Y/N trembled but eventually the stinging pain went away. Her eyes rolled back from the way he filled her up completely. His ring was cold on her ass. Her ring was cold on the nape of his neck.

Brock grunted as he thrusted weakly up into her. He was too tired for much of an effort.

He promised to himself and to his wife that he would make it up. He would last longer. Being only three or so minutes in, he was already fighting back his orgasm. His nose was in the crook of her neck as he held his wife as close as possible. Usually, their sex had a bit more energy. Not tonight. Just the soft rolling and grinding of their hips. Y/N had her eyes closed as she let out quiet breathy moans. Just the feeling of him that close could get her to cum.

Brock had let go of her hips. He was basically just hugging her now. His arms were around her waist. His breathing grew more ragged as time went on. She knew his body far too well. She knew what every type of his breathing meant and she knew he was close. His cock twitched inside of her.

“Come on, B.” She whispered to him, kissing his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. His cheeks were red, his lips were puffy. He looked absolutely flawless. His chest was heaving and his eyes screwed shut as he instinctively tried to hide his face from her as he was about to cum. Y/N grabbed his wrists and just held his hands, not allowing him to hide.

Brock’s orgasm hit him like a truck. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body twitched. His hips bucked up into her and she nearly fell off of him, but she grabbed the headboard to stay stable.

Y/N continued rolling her hips for a moment longer to help him ride out his orgasm. His eyes shot open as his abs rolled and his muscles flexed. He held her still.

“Did you cum?” He asked once he had calmed.

“Its ok, baby. Tonight was about you.” She reminded him softly. Brock frowned and pulled her off of his cock.

“No, come on. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He muttered as he laid her on the bed. He moved so that he was behind her. Y/N had her back pressed against his chest. His hand slipped down between her thighs.

Her back arched the moment he touched her clit. His hands were aching and his muscles screamed in protest, but he still pushed two fingers into her entrance. She swallowed him up gladly. Brock kissed her jaw as he pumped his fingers deep into her.

“Brock- baby, I cant-” Y/N gasped as her thighs shook and clamped around his hand. He used his other hand to pin her hips to him, taking away her ability to move. It was times like these that she realized that he could really push her around without even blinking.

His thumb toyed with her clit as he added a third finger into her pussy. She gasped and her whole body shook. Brock smirked and sped up.

Her eyes closed as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder. It wasn’t just Y/N who knew his body. Brock knew hers. He knew this was her trying to prepare herself to cum. He also knew he didn’t want her to be all that prepared. His fingers curled and she nearly screamed his name. He immediately clasped his other hand over her mouth to muffle her a bit.

Her hips bucked up into his hand, riding his fingers as she came. Brock hummed in satisfaction and then pulled out his fingers. He kissed her softly, then kicked his fingers clean as he stood up and went to grab a towel.

Even though he had been the one being comforted earlier, he always wanted to be the one to treat her after sex. He cleaned off her body with the wet cloth and then did the same for himself. He dried her off, then himself. Always himself second. Wife first.

Brock climbed into the bed with her and for once, neither minded the overwhelming smell. Her arms were immediately around him as she laid on him for a second. Then she sat up.

“Are you feeling any better?” Y/N asked him softly. Brock cleared his throat nervously. He knew he couldn’t successfully lie to her. May as well try though.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He lied through his teeth. Y/N opened her arms. Brock frowned, then he moved into them. They hugged, but she never let go. The continuing feeling of her love and the warmth of her comfort was too much. He finally broke down, sobbing as he held her.

They both knew it was bound to happen. Her fingers raked through his short hair as she worked to comfort him. Maybe the next Super Bowl would work in his favor.

#brock purdy #purdy13 #nfl football #nfl #nfl imagine #brock purdy x reader #brock purdy smut #nfl smut #superbowl #49ers #san fransisco 49ers #kansas city chiefs

650 notes · View notes

bad268 · 9 months ago

Text

Mr. Irrelevant Becomes Relevant (Brock Purdy X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/NFL

Requested: Nope, in honor of the Super Bowl

Warnings: hurt/comfort, insecurities, one sex joke at the end if you squint

Pronouns: Second Person (You/your and one use of ma’am)

W.C. 1356

Summary: When the weight of the Super Bowl gets too much, the reader takes it upon themself to show Brock why he's there.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

The road to the Super Bowl was long and tiring, but it was finally here. After being knocked out of the playoffs last year from a dirty play that ended in Brock being taken out of the game, he was back and on a roll. This was the first Super Bowl you had a personal connection with since you started your job as a Field Team Coordinator in 2021 after graduating from Iowa State. Your job was to plan the stage and work with the chosen artist to structure how the Apple Halftime Show would go.

Maybe it was the fact that this was the first year you were doing it all on your own or maybe it was the fact that your boyfriend and his team were playing in the game, but you were beyond anxious and excited for everything.

You had to be in Las Vegas two weeks before the Super Bowl, so you left Brock in San Francisco right after the championship game (after storming the field and congratulating him of course). He had to stay back with the team, but he met you there the following week.

It was hard the week leading up to the Super Bowl. You knew he was having doubts and overanalyzing every game he had ever played, and you wanted to comfort him. You really did! However, he had training during the mornings, and you had to be at the stadium by noon to run through the halftime show every night, so you had to settle for the brief morning interactions.

A short “You’ve got this” or “I believe in you” in passing became the short-term norm. It was not much, but it got what you needed to say out there. It seemed like it did not really help with Brock’s nerves, unfortunately.

That’s why you were happy to find out that Kyle Shanahan made Saturday a rest day, so you called in and told your right hands that you would be available remotely. If it was an emergency and they really needed you, you would go in, but there were not any pressing matters. Everything with the halftime show had already been settled, and there were no more preparations you could physically do. Just a few emails and short meetings that could be done through the hotel WiFi.

Waking up that morning, you were surprised to not find Brock still in bed, but you should have guessed that. You climbed out of bed and made your way out of the bedroom to the lounge, stopping in the doorway. To your not surprise, Brock was sitting on one of the armchairs rewatching games with headphones on. He was just wearing a pair of sweatpants as he immersed himself in the film, not noticing you walk up behind him.

You stood behind the chair before running your hands across his shoulders as you wrapped your arms around them and leaned down, hiding your face in his neck. He did not turn his attention away from the screen but moved one of his arms up to hold your forearm as he continued watching, dropping his head a couple of times to kiss your knuckles. You placed small kisses on his neck and shoulders as you waited for the quarter to end and for his attention to be on you.

It did not take long since there were only a couple of minutes left, so when the quarter did end, he paused the recording and set the laptop on the coffee table. You walked around the chair and gently pulled Brock to stand with you. You wrapped your arms around his middle as he wrapped his around your shoulders and swayed you two back and forth. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the tense muscles before you pulled back to look up at him.

“You’re tense,” You whispered. “Stop psyching yourself out before the game even starts. That’s not gonna do you any good, babe.”

“I can’t really help it,” He chuckled under his breath. “Patrick Maholmes has done this before and he’s one of the best quarterbacks.”

“And how do you think he became one of the best?” You retorted sarcastically. “Oh yeah! Winning Super Bowls. Isn’t it crazy that you also happen to be in a Super Bowl right now, and you could win it? You did not get here through luck, Brock. You have a strong team behind you, and you’re a pretty good shot. It’s not some fluke that got you here. It was your hard work and dedication that got you in the Super Bowl. Don’t downgrade yourself like that.”

“You make that sound like a win already,” He laughed again as he left a kiss on your forehead. “We’ve still got a game to play.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like you’re mentally ready to face the Chiefs, Brock,” You sighed as you stopped swaying with him. You moved your hands to hold his face and make him look at you. “You’re never going to win if you’re already thinking like you’ve lost. Let me put it this way. Did Patrick get in the Super Bowl his first full year in the NFL?”

“No, he didn’t,” Brock admitted with a small smile.

“That’s right,” You praised. “And when he did get in the Super Bowl for the first time, did he come off of a UCL injury which also happened during his 8th game and the NFC Championship Game no less?”

“No, he didn’t,” Brock chuckled as his smile got bigger. “I think I get the point now.”

“I don’t think you do,” You joked with him. “I need you to understand your worth and your potential. This is your first full year, and you are playing against some of the best in the league. I need you to start thinking like a champ 'cause we’re doomed if you start thinking like you’ve lost it, and it hasn’t even started.”

“We’re doomed?” He asked in mock offense, “I think we’re forgetting who has the best offense in the league!”

“That’s the attitude I’m looking for, babe!” You cheered with him. You laughed as Brock jokingly walked around the room as if hyping himself up for the game that was scheduled for tomorrow. “Show them that this is where Mr. Irrelevant becomes relevant, and what better way to do that than to beat the reigning Super Bowl champs.”

Brock’s mood seemed to lift drastically the more he thought about showing the world that he could lead his team to a Super Bowl championship in just his first full year. He chuckled at the thought before walking up to you, lifting you, and spinning you around. When he finally set you back down, he pulled you into a messy kiss, clearly still running from the slight adrenaline. You chuckled against his lips as you returned the energy to the kiss and ran your fingers through his hair.

After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breaths. You started chuckling lightly causing him to look at you questioninly. You loved one of your hands from his hair to hold his chin.

“We’re going to have a chill day, no film, no training. Just self-care and relaxation, just you and me,” You whispered, pulling him into one last kiss. “And don’t take offense to this, but you are going to go shave before you give me a burn. Then we’ll go get some breakfast.”

“I thought you said I would look good with a beard,” He chuckled, running his hand over the light stubble he had. “Though you said I would look hot.”

“That’s something we can experiment with during the off-season, champ, but right now, it’s irritating,” You laughed with him before patting his chest as you pushed away from him, “I’m also willing to bet we will do a lot more than kissing today, so go shave now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He jokingly saluted as he took off toward the bathroom with a smile. Without a doubt, he was ready to show them that Mr. Irrelevant is relevant.

~~~~~

#brock purdy x reader #brock purdy #49ers #san francisco 49ers #brock x reader #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine #nfl #nfl football #nfl playoffs #super bowl lviii #national football league #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

456 notes · View notes