#so i ripped that across my skin a couple times
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
wishchthumblr · 7 months ago
Text
on todays episode of "mental health issues that could easily be solved by one single thing that i dont have", GET A MICROWAVE!!!
i just know SO many of my eating related issues (not all obviously but a LOT of them) would be solved if this house just had a goddamn microwave
today i ate like... 1/4th of those small frozen pizzas, 1/3rd of a grilled cheese, and 1/3rd bowl of macaroni and meatballs. and yall wanna know why i didnt eat the whole thing of any of them? its cause my stupid adhd ass took too long to eat and the food got cold. and then i Cannot Eat That anymore. so even though i was still hungry i didnt eat the rest of it and just went back to rotting on youtube shorts and being too hungry to do anything and feeling dumb and unproductive and being guilty of making food that i dont eat. just... feeling like a big ol' waste
but the thing is, if i just
✨owned a microwave✨
i could just reheat the motherfucking food and still eat it and not feel like ive wasted that food. ((because since that food is wasted i feel guilty about making it, so i dont make any more food until next meal time, but then i didnt finish that either cause im stupid and eat too slow.))
but we dont have a microwave. only an oven. and yeah maybe i couldve reheated the 3/4th pizza or the grilled cheese in the oven, but then again the oven uses a lot of electricity. and my mom is always complaining that i turn the oven on, forget that its on for a while, and that im wasting electricity. and i was too tired and hungry to deal with that possibility. plus with the oven theres a chance i forget it too long or have it too hot and burn the food and that would just make me feel worse
but we dont have a microwave, because my mom thinks having a microwave leads to "eating more unhealthy foods that you just heat up" instead of "real food". so i didnt reheat any of my food. so i didnt eat it. it got to the point where it got cold and gross so i just threw it in the trash and hope my mom or grandma doesnt notice.
but if i had a microwave, i couldve reheated that food. and i couldve eaten it. ((and yeah, maybe i wouldnt have ate the whole thing, but maybe half at least? that counts right? well it dont really matter if it counts or not cause it didnt happen.))
and then maybe i wouldnt have been feeling like im gonna faint the whole day and maybe i wouldve gotten literally anything done instead of just scrolling on pinterest and youtube shorts for hours and feeling worthless. and maybe if i ate i wouldnt have hurt myself today
but nope. no microwave. it leads to "unhealthy" habits. i guess not eating enough to count as even ONE full meal is healthier since its not "microwave food"
thanks mom
#tw eating issues#tw self harm#btw to my irl friends. if you see this no you did not#sorry honey if you see this. cause i know you like my mom and think shes really nice#which she is!! most of the time aha#the hurting myself happened bc i usually have sprinkled cheese on my macaroni and meatballs#but i used all the cheese in the sandwich that i binned#which made me feel like such a fucking idiot and a waste#so i started crying#and i took the metal lid from the boiling macaroni pot and pressed it to me leg for like 10 seconds straight#fun fact: im really good at muffling any sound when im in pain. haha#it didnt feel like enough though. my knife drawer had stuff infront of it but theres a loose screw on my table#so i ripped that across my skin a couple times#some blood came out but not “enough” pain#so then i had the very strong urge to hurt MORE#and intrusively imagined what id be like to take a knife and drive it into my stomach#which was a little shocking cause i havent had THAT thought in a while#AND THEN i remembered i have my swedish final on monday and i have to make a speech and i havent even chosen a topic yet#and that ill have to meet the swedish teacher that is the reason for the only times i have ever cried or cut at school#and then i had another like... daydream hallucination thing about telling my asshole swedish teacher#that the reason i dont have a speech is cause i realised id see him on monday and wanted to kms :3#kinda still feel like cutting and i scratched myself with the sharp screw a bit more but at least venting about this helped a little#yall if i look my teacher in the eyes and tell him he makes me want to kms and that his behavior and attitude HAS made me cut myself#and that i pray to god he treats his own children better than he treats his students#think hed let me skip the test? yes or no?#god i feel so dizzy rn#but i dont wanna make more food and have to throw it away. i wish we had snacks in this house#wish’s whispers#personal vent#this was a lot of tags aha
3 notes · View notes
opens-up-4-nobody · 11 months ago
Text
...
#im still procrastinating so bear with me#ive just been thinking abt something. like the idea of a support system#bc as a 1st year grad student ppl around me r like: it must be hard being away from ur support system or ive left my support system when i#moved halfway across the country. and like i dont really feel that way bc idk the idea of a support system is sorta odd to me#like for me i guess it would just b my parents who i kno love me but im just so weirdly asocial that i never really talk to them#like i hardly ever text them. we talk maybe every couple months. so like i guess i theoretically have support but its a bit abstract#and like i have friends i guess but again im a bit weird and dont really feel connected to ppl so i dont feel that close to anyone#surface level friendships i guess. i dunno. i just feel weird not not having a support system but also having it b hollow#i guess i cant feel it more now. like i feel like getting diagnosed as bip0lar made my problems seem more realized to my parents#like i dunno i just assumed they knew i was doing awful most of the time but maybe that wasn't the case#its such a weird thing to b diagnosed with. like the conotations feel a lot heavier and i feel like im not supposed to talk abt it to ppl#bc theyll think im unreliable or something. like it wouldnt b that big a deal if i was just depressed but the sometimes buring out of my#skin makes me somehow scarier. and i still feel conflicted bc i do have a bip0lar mood profile but i have very very high impulse control#and even when im going high my mind is still super rational about it. which seems weird bc low impulse control is common with#the diagnosis. its also y i dont fit an 4dhd profile. not that it really matters. i fit the criteria enough to be on the bip0lar spectrum#its not like someone's gonna come yell at me for not being bip0lar enough. i just feel odd about it is all#still feels fake i guess. hard to imagine feeling any different to how i feel now. which is weirdly stable. so i guess the meds r working#sigh... ok enough i need to go to sleep at 7pm so i can get up at like 2 to finish reading a paper. for some reason my god forsaken brain#works better in the early morning rip#unrelated
7 notes · View notes
syluslnd · 2 months ago
Note
Hi! Sorry if this is a long request but I remember very early on Sylus saying that he gets easily bored when things aren't exciting and it's mentioned in 1 of his character notes. I was wondering if I can please request a HC were the reader and Sylus are in a relationship but the reader thinks they are just fwb because they remember Sylus saying he gets bored easily, meanwhile Sylus thinks they're in a committed relationship and gets confused when he over hears the reader (maybe talking to her friend?) Saying how she wishes she sometimes had a boyfriend so they could do all the "normal couple things" and he confronts her about it? Thank you!
Sylus claiming you as his
Tumblr media
You sat on the edge of the bed, your phone pressed to your ear, your voice soft as you talked to your friend. Sylus was across the room, looking relaxed as he read something on his datapad, seemingly disinterested in your conversation. But that couldn't be further from the truth.
"I just wish I had a boyfriend" you said, a sigh escaping your lips. "Someone to do, you know, couple stuff with. Like dates, going out... all those normal things."
You didn't notice the way Sylus's fingers tightened around the edge of the datapad or the way his sharp gaze flicked toward you at that exact moment. But in the next heartbeat before you could react he was beside you ripping the phone from your grasp with a speed that left you breathless.
"What the hell did you just say sweetie?" His voice was low but there was an edge to it-one that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Sylus, what-" you began but he cut you off, pressing the phone to his chest as he glared down at you, eyes darkening.
"You wish you had a boyfriend?" He repeated your words with a scoff, his brow furrowed. "What do you think this is? Some kind of joke?"
You blinked up at him, heart stuttering. "I thought we weren't... I mean, I didn't think we were actually-"
"Not actually what kitten?" he interrupted, voice rising just slightly. His usual calm, teasing demeanor was gone, replaced by something hard, intense and almost... hurt. "You thought this was some casual thing? Some fling?"
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.
In truth, you had no idea how to answer that.
You'd convinced yourself that Sylus would get bored, that this was all temporary and that treating it like anything more would only end in heartbreak.
His lips curled into a tight, humorless smile.
"Sweetie” he said, voice dripping with disbelief “I don't know what kind of 'fling' you think this is but I sure as hell didn't sign up for that."
The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. "You said... you get bored easily” you murmured, your voice barely audible. "I thought... maybe you'd get bored of me too."
For a moment, Sylus said nothing, just stared at you like he was trying to process what you'd just confessed. Then, without warning, a low, incredulous laugh bubbled up from his throat.
"Bored? Kitten, are you serious right now?"
Before you could respond, Sylus closed the distance between you, his hands finding your waist as he yanked you closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You think I'd be spending all my time with you, putting up with all your little antics, if I wasn't serious?"
Your breath hitched as his fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you squirm.
He was mad, no doubt about it but there was something else underneath that anger-something possessive, something that sent heat coursing through your veins.
"You don't need a boyfriend" he murmured, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You already have one."
Your heart stuttered at his words and you felt him smirk against your throat as he started to press slow, deliberate kisses there. "But if you really need proof.."
He bit down gently on your skin, pulling a gasp from your lips as he sucked hard enough to leave a mark—a claim. "I'll remind you."
Your pulse quickened, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he worked his way along your neck, leaving a trail of hickies in his wake. "S-Sylus..." you breathed but the word came out shaky, almost desperate.
"What?" he teased, lips brushing against your collarbone now. "Isn't this what couples do? A normal boyfriend would mark what's his, wouldn't he?"
He tugged at the collar of your blouse, undoing the buttons one by one, his hands moving with practiced ease. Your heart raced, anticipation building as your skin was exposed to the cool air. Sylus's fingers skimmed over the bare skin of your chest, making you shiver, his touch sending a wave of heat through your entire body.
"Sylus" you tried again, your voice coming out in a mix of breathlessness and embarrassment. "This—this isn't..."
"Not couple enough for you?" he finished for you, voice teasing now, the anger from earlier fading into something playful, dangerous. "Because I can keep going, kitten. I can show you just how committed I am."
He kissed you again, harder this time, his tongue tracing the marks he'd left behind and you whimpered softly, your body arching into him as his hands slipped under your blouse. He grinned against your skin, his fingers tracing patterns down your spine as he leaned into you.
"You don't need to look anywhere else” he whispered, voice dark and possessive.
"Because you're already mine. Understand?"
His lips met yours then a kiss that was rough and consuming, filled with all the emotions he hadn't spoken aloud and in that moment, with his body pressing you into the bed and his hands exploring every inch of your skin, you knew one thing for certain:
You'd never been more his than you were right now.
2K notes · View notes
a1ecmcdowell · 19 days ago
Text
dean winchester x angel!reader — it's okay, it's okay.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
or, dean breaks everything he touches, including himself. or, the first time dove has to use her grace.
cw, angst, injured!dean, he walks you through it kind of, dean whimpers but at what cost
word count: 2k
notes, this doesn't count toward my vote. if dean x angel wins u WILL get another i am loyal to my word!! i just got this idea n needed to get it out before i forget < 3 sorry ahead of time if it is 1) sad or 2) sucks it's late ok </3
★ ˚⋆
everyone always says the same thing when the worst comes true, but it reigns true every time - this was never meant to happen.
sure, dean could have been more careful. sure, he could have spent more time worrying about his mortal, breakable body, and not the ageless angel who'd attached to his hip. he'd gotten... used to it, more than anything, because accepting it wasn't the right word.
no, he did not want you at his side at every turn. that gave him another body to fuss over, to make sure didn't get hurt, no matter the cost. even if it was irrational. but dammit, it was you.
you were resilient. he was certain you could take care of yourself, but he panicked when he saw the claw emerging from the pitch black, heading right for your direction. dean knew, logically, that you sensed it coming, that you could have protected yourself-
he took the swipe of gashes to the shoulder anyways. a long swipe. shoulder to sternum - couldn't feel it through the daze of adrenaline, but he could feel the blood. so much blood, and so close to his heart-
"dean!"
your voice pulses in his ears like its own heartbeat. is he losing consciousness? fuck.
your footsteps pound on the dusty dirt trail in the forest, running up to where he was slumped against the nearest tree. dean coughed, blood staining his bottom lip, metal and copper clashing violently on his tongue.
"hi, dove," he whispers, trying to breath life back into his voice, falling just short. "little worse for wear, aren't i?"
"now is not the time for jokes." you kneel next to him, your eyes flitting quickly over his body until they land on the wet crimson slashes across his chest. "you bleed."
his lips quirk, even as the adrenaline is wearing and he's starting to feel the stark pain of the extent of his injuries, because he can't help it. "i do bleed," he says, wincing as the huff of laughter falls out of his mouth rips at his already ripped skin. "s'what happens when you get hurt."
"why did you get hurt?" you demand, fierce and defiant even when he's facing death. good god, he adored you. "i will live. i heal. you..."
dean knew. he knew this. how did he explain this to you, when you didn't even understand what his feelings meant?
"i've heard i look pretty good covered in blood," he says instead. "that true?"
your nimble fingers clamp hard on dean's jaw, forcing him to turn and look at you. so much feist in one ageless body. "now. is not. the time."
"you're so pretty," he breathes, his eyes melting in and out of focus. "so damn pretty when you're mad at me."
your face contorts in a mix of confusion and outrage. this, he thought, is why he doesn't tell you the other things he's been dying for in his mind. as much as dean loves your furious pout, as much as he loves the way you take that damn lip between your teeth again as you think how to stop his dying, it's better to keep you at a distance.
"the bag," dean nods to the duffel he'd dropped in his haste, a couple of feet from you, "get the bag for me, sweet girl."
he can sense the why? on your lips, and smiles, just slightly, when it doesn't come. too detrimental of circumstances for you to question is every ask and call, it seems. how bittersweet it is to be a priority only when he's dying.
you clamber back over with the bag, all but dropping it on his knee in your hurry. dean didn't even tell you what to look for before you'd unzipped it and started digging. "there's bandage wrap in there, somewhere," he rasps out, nodding his head toward you, even though you're not looking at him, "need it. to stop the bleeding."
your hands are shaking. he has nothing else to look at but you - wouldn't look anywhere else regardless - but it's the first thing his eyes lock on. "hey," he says, a little more firmly, even as it makes him wince, "s'okay. it's okay."
"you are dying, and i am useless." you snatch up a small square of shiny wrapping, and he has an explanation for why, exactly, he carries condoms everywhere, but you don't even question it. he forgot that you were too focused on him to be your usual, curious self. "this? will it protect you?"
dean pauses. now is not the time, your words echo in his head, and still, he can't help it. "protects a part of me."
you scoff, and he's upset, for a second, that the joke goes over your head. another thing he should have taught you about. upset again when you the condom also goes over your head and into the dirt with your dismissive toss.
should have. how dramatic was that? already thinking in past tense, because the pain has ebbed again, and that's never good. he was relatively calm before when he could feel it, knowing that, at the very least, it meant he could feel, but-
your hands pluck out the little roll of bandage, shaking fingers tugging at the loose end and starting to unravel it. "yeah, you've got it. not useless, dove," he mumbles, shaking his head like he vehemently denies that bogus claim. "never useless."
"what do i do with it?"
dean lifts his shirt up and over again, wincing again with a deep rumbling whimper as he feels the tear again of his skin, his muscles. a wave of nausea renders him dizzy and speechless. his arms stay raised, his vision swimming.
your irritation is so evident on your face that he's certain, right then, he's never seen you so frustrated. dean wanted to ask why, especially after all of the times you've asked him that. he didn't understand your irritation with yourself. all he needed from you was to cover up the wounds so that you could heal him without risk of him bleeding out.
"you want picked up?" you ask, tilting your head in front of dean's to force his eyes to focus on you again. "now is not the time, again."
"no-" he says, lips twitching in the corners. at the very least, you were keeping him present and conscious, what with all of your adorable attitude. he licks his dry, cracked lips and tries to ignore the copper taste on his tongue. "take that end and wrap it around. like..."
dean doesn't know if you know what a vest is, or a sash, because you don't seem to know half as much as castiel does. maybe what cas meant when he brought you into the winchesters' lives was that your naivety ran so deep because you were a new angel, a fawn trying to catch its footing and stumbling along the way.
he watches as it clicks in your mind, what he means. you are so much smarter than he gives you credit for. he leans forward, mouth falling open in a shuddery, whimpering gasp. luckily, you don't stop what you're doing and ask if he's okay. your care, it seems, either doesn't extend that far, or extends farther due to the gravity of the situation.
you straddle him as you wrap the gauze around and around, and it's damn distracting, having you this close to him again. "do it until you don't see any more of the claw marks, yeah?"
your head moves in a nod but your eyes never once leave him, focused on the task at hand. winding and winding, the gauze tightening and tightening, until his chest feels stiff with it.
"s'good," he says, raising his hand to rest his fingers on your wrist. "great job, sweet girl. here-"
his fingers walk their way down your hand until he takes the roll of gauze between them, moving the strip to his teeth and tearing until it ripped free from the roll. "there we go."
again, you stare at him expectantly, only this time, he's staring right back at you with the same anticipation in his eyes. "go on, dove. do your divine thing."
a blink. a second blink. "i don't know how."
his heart, he thinks, falls down to his ass. bypasses the gaping wound in his sternum and drops.
"that would have been great to know before i took the fucking-" he can't even be mad at you. he's dizzy, starting to shiver, and yet the idea of hurting you made him feel worse than all of those things combined.
"i did not ask you to!" no, you didn't, but what was a man who was used to jumping in front of the bullets to do? "i did not ask, and you were not supposed to be stupid."
dean forces a strained smile. "sweetheart, s'kind of my thing."
you bend down, still straddling, close enough that your nose brushes his. fuck. he was going to die without knowing what it was like to close that gap. "not the time-"
"for jokes, yeah, i- i get that," he grumbles, throat thick, spluttering on a cough. blood splatters in a hapless pattern on his shirt, on yours. "think i'm- allowed t'joke when i'm dyin'."
"you are not." your eyes stay locked onto his. there's so much passion in them that they glimmer and glitter even now, in the dead of night. "not, to either of those things. i will..."
dean hates your expression. the defeated, helpless panic in it a stark contrast to your resilient eyes. he wants to comfort you. wants to smooth the pinched skin between your brows with his thumb, but everything's starting to feel a little heavy. "cas-" his head thumps back against the wall. "uses his hands. touch."
your expression softens. there it is again, that determined gleam overtaking every other emotion on your face. there's my girl, he thinks, even though it's a thought he's never allowed himself to think before, about you. his inhibitions are lessened now, though, and who is he to hide a thing from you?
slowly, your hands lift to his cheeks, cupping his face between your palms. your skin is so warm, and his is so cold, and he can't look away from your eyes. dean's never believed in someone as much as he does you, right now.
your eyes close, and he's still looking. his head leans forward and knocks against yours, like he can't get close enough. he'd do anything to know what your lips tasted like. if they were as sweet as you were, or as furious as you tended to get.
"it's not-" you growl, and he opens his mouth to say something to counteract the rush of heat your gravelly voice shoots through his icy veins, when- "fuck it."
two beats of shock wrack through him, and he has no time, not a split second at all, to prepare for the way your mouth crashes into his. his eyes blink wide in shock before a wave of warmth starts in his chest and spreads like roots through his blood and deep in his veins. he sees the blue-white flash of your grace as it spreads around the both of you.
you pull back so suddenly that your lips pop, staring at him expectantly. no, not dean, his red soaked bandages on the outside of his torn shirt. you give him no time to process it before you're clawing at it, tearing it down the center. "jesus, dove-" his eyes drop down to follow your gaze.
the only remnants of his injury were the dried streaks of blood running down his chest, pale red and shiny in the areas still drying in the cold night air.
you laugh, soft and hesitant, and it's the prettiest noise dean has ever heard. "if i'd known i just had t'almost die t'get you to kiss me," he says slowly, "i'd have done it a lot sooner."
even if it was hardly a kiss - more of a collision. he'd just have to teach you how he liked it, later.
Tumblr media
tags,
@figthoughts, @jasvtsc, @titsout4nicholas, @deanswidow, @whyyouegg,
@bombarda-babe, @whisperingwillowxox, @underground-secret,
@bitchykittenconnoisseur, @jensenacklesantidote,
@keira-kaz2y5, @ostaramoon, @depressionbarbie2023, @ultravi0lence14, @loverslantern,
@bleuatlas, @minettacreekk, @sthefferrete
495 notes · View notes
xiakato · 4 months ago
Text
SEULGI- What Are We? (M)
Tumblr media
There she was, talking your ears off. But you don’t mind, you love her. Your eyes fall to her lips, back to her eyes. The blue contacts add more to her already beautiful eyes. You stopped listening to what she is saying a while ago, getting lost in the scenarios of your mind. You notice that she stopped talking, looking back at her eyes, the beautiful eye smile that has your heart jumping over the moon is looking back at you. 
“Are you even listening to me Y/n?” She asks giggling, as she swirls the straw in her drink. 
“Of course I am, you know I always do,” you chuckle shyly, knowing that you have been caught by her again. 
“Uh huh, you want to feel my lips don’t you?” She leans forward slightly, getting of whiff of her perfume that takes over your senses, “My lips on yours~” 
“Don’t tease me Seul,” You look away from her for the first time since you’ve met up with her today. She knows long black hair and glasses is your weakness.  You hear her giggling as the chair squeaks on the floor as her fingers grab your chin making you look at her.
 “I’m serious,” She smirks as her lips come closer than they have ever been to yours. She giggles looking at your closed eyes, and runs away out of the cafe. You chuckle sadly to yourself as you take off after her. 
“I told you not to tease me!” You yell at her as you catch up with her. She hides her face from your view so you move around trying to see her face. Getting a quick glimpse you see the bright red that has taken over. 
“Leave me alone Y/n!” She curls into a small ball crouching down, you can’t help but think about how cute she is. 
“Seul~” You call out to her, pulling her back to her feet, “Let’s get some ice cream, your favorite place, You coo trying to get her to stop hiding, only for her to hide more in your chest. You lift her up, hauling her over to her favorite ice cream spot. Sitting her down at a table, you quickly order, sliding the cup in front of her.  A couple of minutes later she finally starts eating, still not looking at you, “Seul?” You say hoping she will finally answer you. 
“Hm?” She stares at the melting ice cream, her hair hiding her face from view. 
“What are we?” You ask, watching her, her spoon comes to a stop, finally she looks at you.
“I like you,” the conviction in her voice, you almost couldn’t tell that this girl was just the one hiding herself behind her hair a moment ago.
“I like you too,” Smiling at her,”Would you be my girlfriend Seulgi?” You ask her, seeing the bright smile take over her face, nodding eagerly she slides around the table, sitting on your lap. 
“Of course I will be,” Her lips finally meet yours, a sensation you already know that you can’t get enough of. Pulling away, you smile at her, taking her hand in yours. 
The next few months were the best of your recent years. Seulgi being your girlfriend finally, elevated your happiness. You watch on as she runs around the park chasing the bubbles, the brightest smile on her outshining the sun.  She runs back to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with. The bubbles add to the already perfect background. She pulls to a secluded area of the park, her lips mashing against yours. Your lips move in perfect rhythm with hers, her arms wrapped around your neck, your hands exploring her body. Electricity running through your fingertips, as they glide across her skin. Pulling away, you two pant, trying to catch your breath. 
“Lets go,” She says, you quickly nod, taking off towards your car. The whole ride, her lips were latched to your neck, her hand on your bulge. Your concentration on the road falters more and more as you drive. Luckily, the lights were on your side, getting home in record time. The door was unlocked even faster as you two fell onto the couch, your lips still locked with hers. She makes short work of your button up ripping it open, her lips trail down your neck, grazing against your collarbone. The shivers that go down your spine, the goosebumps you get every time she kisses your body. Pulling your pants down, her slender hand wraps around your shaft, her touch is cold but soft. Her spit slides down your shaft as she uses it as lube, “Do you like that Daddy?” 
You can only nod as she continues stroking your cock and kissing your neck, you thank god that she wore a skirt today. As you snake your hand under it and start pulling at her panties, she helps you take them off. Straddling you, she slides you in without any problem. She’s still so tight around you. “Fuck baby,” You mutter as her hips bounce slow on your cock. 
“You feel so good Daddy,” She whispers in your ear, moving her feet flat on the couch putting all her hips into it, her grip around you is enough to make you cum but you hold out. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through your house, her legs are shaking. This is your favorite part, watching her unravel. She cums, “F-fuck! I’m cumming!” she collapses on top of you. You don’t give her a chance to recover and start thrusting up making sure you fill her with everything you have. Grasping her ass with dear life as her nails dig into your shoulders, you cum, as you keep thrusting, your only thought is her. You slow to a stop, trying to catch your breath. She sits up, your cock still buried inside, her eyes, her beautiful eyes that capture your soul with a single glance. Half lidded, dripping with her lust and desire, her hand placed on your chest to keep her balance. She starts grinding slowly, “I need more daddy~” She leans down, her lips nearly touching yours, “Please~?” 
Who are you to tell her no, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You watch as her abs flex each time she grinds. Your hand gravitates to her waist, guiding her hips. You feel her tighten as she cums again, watching her keep going on her own. She got hers, now she wants you to get yours. She quickens her pace, her hands sturdy on your chest. 
“Please Daddy cum inside~,” She smiles, even more when she feels your warmth fill her, she rests her head on your chest, leaving small kisses, “I love you baby~” 
438 notes · View notes
mellowswriting · 1 year ago
Note
Hiiii! First of all let me tell you that i love all your Javier Peña fics omg you keep us the Javi girlies fed!!!!
And second! I saw that your requests were open and i had to come here! would you ever consider writing something about Javi being possesive bc some guy’s flirting with reader but she doesn’t realize until much late and he gets jealous and overall breeding kink bc he wants to make her all his and put a baby in her so everyone knows who she belongs to!
his girl
Tumblr media
pairing || Javier Peña x fem!Reader
word count || 3.6k
summary || There's a possessiveness that strikes a man once he finally has everything he's ever wanted. Javier soothes that animal feeling by marking you - his ring on your finger, his initial hanging at your throat, his marks sucked into your skin. But lately, it just isn't enough. Luckily, he has the perfect plan. He's putting a baby in your belly.
content || SMUT, jealousy, possessiveness, explicit breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, rough sex/manhandling, aftercare, praise, massages, husband!Javi being an absolute menace, unbeta'd and unedited (written largely while having covid, so bear with me babes)
a/n || has this sat in my inbox for a humiliating amount of time? yes. did I have a blast finally writing it? absolutely. I am forever and ever in love with husband!Javi
Javier Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library Blog
Tumblr media
Javier loves watching you. He has from the very beginning, long before he could even call you his. From the very moment you started occupying the desk across from him, he has loathed taking his eyes off of you. He took note of the little things. The way you threw your head back and laughed at Murphy’s awful jokes. The furrow of your brow as you read over a file. The smile you flashed him when your eyes locked from across the room. You consumed him right from the start. Those glimpses grew more personal as he gravitated toward you, unable to resist the pull of that warm smile and the spitfire burning in your blood. The grumpy expression you wear in those first weary moments after waking. The dramatic glance you give him when you overhear a couple arguing in the grocery store. The feeling of your weight sinking into him as you fall asleep in the bed you share.
No matter how much time passes, he still finds himself enamored by the very sight of you. A glass of whiskey sweats on the table in front of him, relatively untouched. He’s too busy eying you from across the bar to bother with it. You look so beautiful in the low light, chatting and smiling with your girls as you wait for the bartender. He can’t even guess the number of times he’s seen you in this bar, wearing that pretty little dress, but it doesn’t matter. You catch his eye every time.
There’s only one problem. He isn’t the only one looking.
Possessiveness comes naturally to a man who finally has everything he wants. It flares in his chest, hot and untamed, as a man settles against the bar beside you. The man says something to catch your attention and leans closer with a flirtatious smile - and Javier has to bite back the urge to rip his throat out. The man must be oblivious to the ring on your finger and the ‘J’ hanging from the thin gold chain around your neck. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. Javier grits his teeth and tries to be patient.
He lasts less than five minutes.
Your eyes light up when you spot him shouldering his way through the crowd. The urge to kiss that dazzling smile off your lips is irresistible. His name just barely leaves you before his hands find the familiar curve of your waist and tug you close. He kisses you, softly at first. His hand cradles your jaw and you melt into him, your fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist. Your breathing stutters in your chest. Javier swears he gets high off the ease with which you sway for him.
The parting of your lips is an invitation he takes without hesitation. You tug him closer by the front of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. The way you cling to him sends a thrill of arousal through him. He can’t help but tighten his grip at your waist, pinning you back against the bartop just slightly. Javier eagerly drinks in the little moan he pulls from you. Fuck, he knows he has to stop before he bends you right over this damn bartop. He gives you one last kiss, short and sweet, before he reluctantly pulls away. You look up at him with those bright eyes and a tipsy little smile.
He gives your waist a little squeeze. “So, who’s your new friend?”
“Huh…? Oh!” You brush off the haziness with a little shake of your head. “This is… um, James! He’s Maria’s brother.”
“Nice to meet you.” Javier curls a covetous arm around your waist and holds you close. He offers his other hand to James and when the man shakes it, he makes sure to squeeze. Hard. He tries not to look too proud of himself. A song comes across the bar’s speakers, something familiar with a good beat. “Well, I hate to cut this short but my wife looks like she needs a dance.”
James is smart enough to take the hint and get the hell out of there.
You let out a knowing laugh as Javier tugs you into the crowd. “What was that about?”
“I need an excuse to dance with my girl?” He asks, the picture of innocence.
It doesn’t take long for you to forget the whole thing once he gets his hands on you. Javier can feel the shift in your energy. Every gentle, lingering touch only makes you melt into him more. You lean back into his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. He can smell your shampoo and perfume, and the feeling of your hips swaying against him makes his cock twitch.
Your dress twists in his greedy grip as he shamelessly gropes your ass and your drunken giggle is music to his ears. He has to force himself not to be too rough. The soft, lacey fabric falls delicately at your waist, all flowy and beautiful. He loves this dress on you - and so does every other man in this bar. Javier spots James watching the two of you from across the room and that familiar need to stake his claim flares.
His hand drifts up from your waist to your chest and his fingers trace the little gold ‘J’ that hangs there before going higher. His fingers wrap around your throat and you don’t even open your eyes. Your trust is so painfully clear and it makes his cock even harder. He tilts your head to the side, plants a hot kiss against your pulse point, and you melt even more for him. James averts his gaze, his cheeks bright red.
Pride and possessiveness vie for control, an unwinnable fight between his love of showing you off and the unbearable need for everyone to know exactly who you belong to. The ring on your finger, his initial at your neck - it just isn’t enough.
The idea takes root before his rational mind can stop it. Instinct and pure possessiveness blend into one rabid, desperate need: he needs to knock you up. The mere image is enough to have him grinding his cock against your ass without shame. Your belly swelling with the baby he planted there. The flowy fabric of this dress stretching over your stomach until it doesn’t fit. Huddling up with you in those tiny dressing rooms as you try on new clothes. His baby on your hip and another growing in your belly. The undeniable proof of who exactly you belong to - his wife, the mother of his children. His, his his.
“Every man in this bar has been eying you up all night,” Javier grumbles.
“Ah, that’s what this is about…” You say indulgently. “Feeling jealous?”
“They think they have a chance if I’m not glued to your side. That pretty ring on your finger is just a challenge to them.” The annoyance rings clear in his voice. You turn around in his arms, a teasing smile on your pretty face. He knows just how much you love it when he gets like this. His arms tighten around you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll make sure they know you belong to me.”
“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “And how are you doing that?”
Javier tightens his arms around you until your chest is flush with his. The smirk fades from your face, quickly replaced with something softer, more curious. He leans closer until his lips brush your ear, his voice low and dripping with sin. “I’m gonna take you home and put a baby in your belly.”
He watches the realization wash over you - the way your breath catches and your eyes go all wide. The buttons of his shirt twist in your hand where you cling to him. Your eyes flick back and forth as you study his face, obviously trying to gauge his seriousness. There isn’t a hint of humor or halfheartedness to be found.
“Fuck… I- really? Are you serious?” You whisper. Anticipation curls tight in his belly. Javier grabs your jaw, his touch gentle as he keeps your attention solely on him.
“Not letting you out of that bed ‘til I knock you up.” He murmurs as his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip. You draw in a shuddering breath, your pupils blown out as you look up at him with an expression he knows all too well. All tender, lush with softness and submission. “Everyone will know exactly who you fuckin’ belong to with my baby growing in your belly.”
Your eyes flutter shut, a vain attempt to steady yourself. “Javi…”
“Yeah?” He whispers. “What do you think?”
“I think…” You lock eyes with his. “I think you need to take me home. Now.”
A thrill surges through him. He couldn’t get you out of there faster, even if he tried.
The front door barely closes before you kick off your heels and take off toward the bedroom. Adrenaline rushes through you at the sound of Javier hot on your tail. Your laughter echoes through the hall as he chases you down. The bedroom is just in your sight when you feel his arms wrap around your waist and he yanks you up off of your feet - just to prove that he can. Picture frames rattle against the wall where he pushes you up against it. He shoves his thigh between your legs and the pressure against your aching cunt sends pleasure arcing up your spine. The kiss he gives you is hot and frenzied, searing pure desire into your skin.
You don’t hesitate to grab a handful of his hair, which has finally grown out enough to show off those pretty curls you adore. Javier moans and that deep, rich rumble sends you into overdrive. You grind against his thigh, the thin cotton of your underwear all that separates you from the friction you truly crave. A sharp nip of his teeth against your lower lip makes you gasp but he soothes you with a skillful swipe of his tongue.
He breaks the kiss, only to gift his attention to the long line of your throat. The blunt edge of his teeth digs into the place where your neck and shoulder meet. You know there will be a mess of marks all over your skin at this rate, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when you know that you will bear an indisputable mark of his claim soon enough. Heat courses through you at the thought. Javier finally relents and leans back to take in his handiwork, seeming satisfied with the latest hickey on your throat. Your hand absentmindedly strokes the mark he just left and his eyes track the movement, a smirk growing on his handsome face.
“Don’t worry, baby.” He murmurs. “I’m only getting started.”
The grip he has on your waist is bruising as he walks you back toward the bed. You let yourself get lost in the way he manhandles you onto the bed, your thighs spread to welcome his body between them. The image of him standing over you is breathtaking - the fire burning in his eyes, the kiss-bitten quality to his lips, the flush that has overtaken his neck and chest. You don’t get long to admire him before he falls to his knees and pushes the skirt of your dress up to your waist. He yanks you closer to the edge of the mattress and a startled sound comes from you - but it melts away into a moan as he tongues your cunt over your soaked panties.
“Fuck,” You sigh, your hand snaking down to bury in his hair. Instinct drives your hips to buck up into that sinful mouth and Javier rewards you with an eager groan. The telltale pop of seams meets your ears a mere millisecond before your husband tears through the lace underwear you wore just for him. You gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair. “What the fuck are you - oh, fuck.”
“Gotta get you nice and ready for my cock, amor.” He murmurs.
The wet heat of his mouth against your bare cunt steals the fight right out from under you. He doesn’t falter as your thighs wrap around his head - in fact, it only encourages him. He eats you out like a man starved, like your dripping cunt is the only sustenance he could ever need. If you weren’t so strung out on pleasure, you would be embarrassed by the sounds he pulls from your body - wet, desperate, filthy sounds. His tongue circles over your clit in steady strokes that have you shivering with white-hot pleasure.
You can’t resist the temptation to look at him. Those dark eyes gleam at you from between your thighs, feverish with lust. Two thick fingers slip inside you and hook upwards, finding that sweet spot with practiced ease. A violent shudder rocks through your body as he drives you closer and closer to that edge. He needs it almost as much as you do - you know just from the glint in his eyes. Pure hunger, pure devotion. He moans in encouragement as you grind into his touch, easily rocking in sync with your movements. You can practically read the words running through his head.
C’mon, sweet thing. Let go. Come for me.
That ever-tightening coil in your belly finally snaps. Every nerve ending lights up with the pleasure that surges through you, leaving you a trembling, whining mess beneath him. Little sparks flicker through your core with every lingering caress of his fingers and lick of his tongue. It isn’t until you push his head away that he finally relents. You sink into the shivery haze of it all, the weightless, floating feeling he always brings out in you. Bliss surrounds you in every gentle stroke of his fingers and sweet praise that leaves his lips.
Javier’s hands deftly unzip the back of your dress and slip it from your body, your bra quickly following it onto the floor. You shiver at the chill of the air against your sweat-slick skin, but he’s quick to remedy that. You swear your husband burns hotter than a damn furnace, but you welcome the heat of his bare skin against yours. He showers you with attention as you come down. Messy kisses leave wet marks along your chest and throat. His warm hands wander and squeeze at your thighs and waist - any soft, supple flesh he can get his greedy hands on.
His fingers nudge your jaw up and he captures your lips in a lazy kiss, all tongue and sweetness. It’s too easy to get lost in the heat of it - the easy caress of his tongue, the grip of his fingers holding you right where he wants you, the rough brush of his stubble. He steals the breath from your lungs and breathes life back into you in the same second. Intoxicating - that’s the only way you can describe the attention he gives you. Need still thrums through you, even with the sensitivity still pulsing through your body.
Javier groans as you pull his body flush against yours, the heavy weight of his cock resting between your thighs. He pulls back and takes in the sight of his cock gliding along your slick cunt. He’s transfixed as he slowly thrusts against you, those big hands palming your ass eagerly. The head of his cock nudges your clit and you whine, your body jerking with the overstimulation.
“Shh, I got you, baby,” He murmurs, his voice low and rough with lust. Anticipation sings in your veins, only to be dashed as he keeps rocking his hips at a devastatingly slow pace. Your voice breaks around his name, every ounce of need bled into your tone, but Javier just smirks down at you. He squeezes the soft flesh of your thighs. “Use your words, baby.”
“Fuck, please” Heat rushes to your cheeks and floods your core at his teasing words. Javier shakes his head and tuts at you, unmoving in his ploy to get exactly what he wants. Your teeth tug at the soft pillow of your bottom lip before soothing the mark with a careful swipe of your tongue. His gaze follows the movement, his own lips parting as he takes you in. You take advantage of the distraction with ease. Those deep eyes flit back to your own as your fingers brush his cheek. The touch draws him closer, his nose nearly brushing yours.
“Put a baby in me. Let me make you a daddy.”
An animalistic sound leaves Javier’s chest, something rough and feral and promising. Javier sinks into the slick heat of your cunt in one easy thrust, not stopping until his cock presses snugly against your cervix. It damn near drives you crazy - the stretch, the stimulation, the pleasure-pain of almost too much. Your hips jerk, your body instinctively pulling away from the overstimulation.
“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” Javier grits out as his hands take a firm grip on your waist, holding you in place as he presses even deeper. The whine that leaves you feels pathetic but you can’t help it. Not when he’s so fucking deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. “No running, mama. You’re gettin’ what you begged for.”
The words that hang at the tip of your tongue disappear as he pulls back a few inches only to fill you all over again. Your nails find purchase in the taut muscle of his shoulders as he sets a devastatingly languid pace. He retreats just enough for you to feel the loss before he sinks as deep as your body can take him. Every thrust forces a broken sound from your lips, sounds that only encourage him to take you apart piece by piece.
Pleasure scorches your belly, reignited into an uncontrollable blaze under your husband’s tender hands. It hurts so good - you can’t help but cling to him and roll your hips in time with his. You meet him touch for touch. He pushes, you pull. He gives, you take - and take and take and take. It only fuels his need to take you apart that much more. His hands slip to the small of your back and curve your ass up at that perfect angle to make you see stars.
“Too much, too much - fuck, Javi!” You babble through the onslaught.
“It’s not enough, baby,” Javier whispers. The wet heat of his mouth against your ear makes you shiver. “Can never get enough of you.”
The hard edge of his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit and your body jolts under the rush of pleasure. Your body fights it, fights him, but your squirming is something he handles all too well. He pins you into the sheets with his weight, his thrusts devolving into sharp grinds that make you cry out beneath him. He can feel it in every pulse of your cunt.
“That’s it,” The low growl in his voice makes you tremble. “Come for me, little mama.”
Your eyes roll and your vision whites out as a second orgasm crashes over your body. It feels like something breaks - something gushing and hot and wet. You can hear the soft sounds of praise somewhere underneath the blood rushing in your ears. It isn’t until your double vision finally comes back together that you feel it - every hot pulse of his cock inside of you, intensified by the way your cunt milks him for every last drop.
You welcome the full weight of his body sinking into you. Javier buries his face in your neck with a soft grunt. Goosebumps follow every sloppy kiss he presses there, praise murmured between every pass of his lips. You don’t know just how long you lay there soaking it in but soon enough, the ache in your hips interrupts the bliss.
“Javi,” You nudge his hip with your knee but he doesn’t budge. “Javi,”
“Mm,” He grunts as he cranes his head back to take a look at you.
“M’ sore, baby. Gotta get up.” You murmur.
Javier drags himself off of you with a groan and before you can do more than flex your legs, he maneuvers you up onto the bed. You can’t help but chuckle as he gets you settled against the mountain of fluffy pillows and immediately crowds against you once more. You cradle his face in your hands and draw him closer, your nose brushing his. His lips part in a quiet sigh as his gaze flits over your face. A tender, aching devotion lays bare on his own. You can see it all - the pride, the wonder, the love. You card your fingers through his hair, pushing the dark, overgrown curls away from his pretty face. Javier kisses you soft and slow, a low hum of happiness rumbling through him.
Something warm and happy settles in your chest as he eases you onto your stomach and sets to work rubbing your shoulders and back. His thumbs dig into every knot he comes across, working you into a melted mess of happiness. He’s so good at taking care of you, your lovely husband. So thorough, so attentive. For the millionth time, you’re struck by how lucky you are. You couldn’t imagine a better man to raise a family with.
“You’re going to be such an amazing dad, sweetheart.” You murmur drowsily. His hands pause where they were working at a particularly stubborn knot in your lower back. A deep breath shudders through him and suddenly, he’s straddling your thighs. His cock twitches against your ass and you wiggle against him despite your exhaustion. You can’t help but tease him. “Already, Javi? I don’t know…”
“Shh, just one more…” He murmurs, his voice dark and lusty as he manhandles you onto your stomach. He squeezes your thighs and moans low in his chest. “Let me do all the work, honey. Just one more and it’ll take, I know it…”
2K notes · View notes
gorgeys · 4 months ago
Text
kinda pervy!queen maeve x femsupe!reader
sorry this is so long but i finished season 3 and had to get this out of my system. maeve come home the kids miss you.
and pls more ppl write for her 🙏🙏
she doesn't want to be like this.  she really doesn't.  but as you sit down at your new seat across from her at your first seven meeting, all of her morals fly right out the window.
you're smiling up at homelander as he introduces you, but all maeve can see are your hands attempting to pull the low cut neckline of your suit up to cover more of your tits.  your suit's brand new and, like starlight's, shows more skin than your previous one which takes some getting used to on your end.
vought's costume department also made quite a few mistakes so your new suit is basically a size too small.  it's the world's best push-up bra, giving maeve so much to look at.  but it's the small opening of your suit over your rib cage that really gets her.  it shows just the teeniest big of your underboob and it's already driving her wild.
you're already not leaving up to imagination, but still, she wants to reach across the table and rip the black leather right off of you.  she wants to run her cold hands all over your chest and make your nipples turn hard under her thumbs.  she wants to grope and squeeze your tits and watch as your face morphs between pain and pleasure.
when you look over at her, you finally notice that she's been staring at you with what appears to be the meanest death glare you've ever seen.  she's leaning forward with her elbows on the table and a clenched jaw as if you're her next target.  you look away quickly, already scared of her.  you just hoped she didn't hate you.  she was your idol after all. oh, if you only knew what she was thinking.
you're too pre-occupied to notice, but every time you leave the conference room after a meeting, she always walks behind you.  of course, it's not an accident.  nothing she does is an accident.
she notices that whenever you walk in front of one of the boys (especially the deep), your hands constantly rest along the hem of your skirt which barely covers your bare ass, ready to pull it down and obstruct their prying eyes.  but with her, you don't seem to care.  it's probably because you think that you're both girls so you don't have anything to worry about.  little do you know she's the worst of them all.
her eyes constantly peek beneath your skirt, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.  a couple times she does get lucky and sees a bit of your white or pink cotton underwear.  one time she gets really lucky and instead catches your black lace panties and wonders who you could be wearing those for.  it's moments like those where she hopes you know she's looking.  she wants you to wear those for her, no one else.
but most days she's not that fortunate.  instead she just watches the sway of your hips and ass as you both walk over to the elevator.  again, she wants to run her hands all over you and feel every single curve.  she visualizes herself squeezing your ass and whispering in your ear how soft and smooth your skin is.  then she imagines bending you over something so she can see all of you.
but then you enter the elevator and turn around and smile sweetly at her.  having spent enough time in the seven, you know she won't ever smile back, but it doesn't really bother you.  you've accepted that's just who she is.  meanwhile, she contemplates pressing the emergency stop button, slamming you against the wall, and shoving her fingers so far inside of you that your brain goes fuzzy and tears are slipping down your pretty cheeks.
it's that same thought that keeps her awake at night.  she can almost hear your whines and moans echoing in her head.  she can hear you begging to cum all over her face and promising you'll be a good girl for her.  you're so loud in her head that she can't help but reach under her shorts and rub circles on her clit as she whispers your name into her pillow.  she thinks about fucking you so often that, to her, it feels like it's really happened.
one time she comes back late from a team-up and, on her way toward her room, peeks into the training room to find you practicing moves on a punching bag.  she stops and just watches through the window for a second.  your back is to her but your hair is up and she can see the sweat dripping off your neck, some of it hitting the mat beneath your feet.  she wonders what it tastes like.  probably salty, but also sweet because it's you after all.  she'd lick your sweat right off your neck in long stripes.  she'd probably lick it off the floor too if she was feeling extra thirsty.
she's torn.  she's tired and you look tired and if homelander catches her, he'll know something strange is going on.  but as you turn slightly toward her and use your tank top to wipe some sweat of your forehead, she makes her decision.
"hey" she says, leaning against the door frame.  you whip your head around and are more than surprised to see her of all people with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug half smile.  "need a training partner?"
you weren't going to say no to this uncharacteristically kind offering, even if you were just about to head upstairs.  so you're jumping around the mat at nearly midnight, dodging her blows and getting in a few licks of your own.  you're a pretty good fighter, but not as good as her, so it's not long before she has you pinned to the mat with one forearm against both your shoulders.
your chest is heaving beneath her arm and your mouth is slightly open.  she's never been this close to you before.  she feels like she's on fucking fire, feeling herself on top of you like this and feeling her skin against yours.  she would've been able to control herself if you weren't staring into her eyes like that, looking a little dazed but excited.  who can blame her for closing the distance and kissing you like there's no tomorrow?
you're beyond shocked.  more like stupefied.  you'd never even had an inkling that she had thought of you in this way.  in fact, you assumed she wanted to kill you sometimes.  but the way she kissed you so hard and dug her teeth in your bottom lip made you want her so badly that you could feel your panties growing wet.
with your little crush on her, you thought about this moment sometimes and assumed she'd be rough but my god she was rough with you that first time.  she barely let you move, keeping you completely pinned to the mat with one arm while the other snuck beneath your skirt.
"you don't even know how long i've been waiting for this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers push your panties to the side.  she's instantly assaulting your clit in fast, tight circles, leaving you writhing beneath her, though there's not much wiggle room between your bodies.
"maeve, what if somebody sees?" you ask between quiet whines.  what a suck up you were, constantly trying to gain points with the other members of the seven in hopes of gaining more power.  she especially hated the way you sucked up to homelander, always grinning at him and laughing at his stupid, gross jokes with hearts in your eyes.  a small part of her wanted him to see her fucking you so good.
"you'll keep taking my fingers, goody fucking two shoes," she says through gritted teeth before shoving a finger inside of you with no warning, causing your back to arch up and off of the mat.  "good girl, baby."
after that night, there's less staring and imagining but more touching and doing.  her hand grazes your ass when you pass each other in the hallway.  she pretends to swat a fly away from your chest and ends up smacking one of your tits.  it always ends with that same no-good smile.
you try your best to only end the night in maeve's room if homelander's out on a mission, but she grows impatient.  you're an addiction and every little taste she gets leaves her wanting more.  she especially gets handsy when you've spent a lot of unnecessary time with homelander.
"y'think he can fuck you like this?" she asks, her strap buried deep inside of you.  you're sat on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around her waist and hands tangled in her hair as she relentlessly pounds into you, pushing you toward your third orgasm.  you moan a "no" into her shoulder before biting down on her skin.  "yeah, that's what i thought.  if i see you touching him again, i swear i'll strip you naked and fuck you in front of him.  now cum before i change my mind and don't let you."
she once threatened to make you wear a vibrator to one of the seven meetings after you came back from a team-up with homelander's arm around your shoulders.  but, after a lot of begging and time spent on your hands and knees feverishly eating her out, maeve finally forgot about the idea.  he would've probably seen it anyways.
but, one of, if not her favorite time fucking you is on a random sunday when homelander's out doing day-time talk show interviews.  she drags you into the seven conference room and sits in homelander's chair at the head of the table.
"feels good, does it, baby?" you say, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her, reaching underneath your skirt and shimmying your panties off.
she sighs a sigh of accomplishment and leans her head back against the chair without taking her hungry eyes off of you.  "feels fucking fantastic."
then she's rolling her chair forward, locking her arms around your thighs, and pulling your pussy toward her mouth.  you lie back on the table with your legs over her shoulders and moan maeve's name as her lips enclose your clit and suck harshly.  she shushes you but with her lips against your cunt, the vibrations only leave you struggling to compose yourself.
the rush of power from eating you out in homelander's chair makes her hungrier than ever and she laps you up quickly, collecting your juices on her tongue and swallowing proudly to avoid leaving behind a mess.  "you taste better than ever, baby," she says, licking her lips before leaning down to give you a chaste kiss.
everything's going well until one fateful meeting when homelander's getting on your ass about some dumb little thing you said in an interview that's been twisted by fans and is now trending on twitter.  he was talking to you like you were a mentally unstable infant and it was starting to piss maeve off.
"hey, cool it, homelander," she interrupts him mid-sentence as he ranted on about your "tiny pea brain."  he turns his face, which was inches away from yours, toward maeve who was coolly leaned back in her chair.  they had a stern staring contest for a few moments before something inside of him snapped.
"just cause y/n's slutting herself out to you doesn't mean you have to be her lesbian knight in shining armor, maeve."  maeve was far better at hiding her shock than you were.  "yeah i fucking knew about you two.  don't think you can hide anything from me."
and that was when your secret arrangement turned into a very public one.  you would be lucky to escape this situation with your life.  luckily maeve would never let you go without a fight.
432 notes · View notes
froggibus · 6 months ago
Note
🍦- Wally West PLEASE
Something body worship, like reader feels insecure and he reassures them or wally comes back after a mission and thinks reader is just the most gorgeous goddess while they're doing something super mundane like reading on the couch or binging movies
Electric Love - Wally West
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Wally West x fem! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/nsfw, mild angst + hurt/comfort
Word Count: 2.4K
Summary: when Wally catches you feeling down about yourself about how you look in a bikini, he’s determined to remind you how beautiful you really are
CW: young justice! Wally (but could be read as comic! Wally too), established relationship + you live together, insecurity & body image issues, light emotional break, Wally rips your clothes off hehe, porn with plot, kinda long start sorry, praise, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, rough sex, mating press
I was so excited to write this one I had brainrot abt it all through work (& made the worlds worst caramel macchiato ever cause I was so distracted) i really really loved both ideas you gave me but to suit the summery vibes i chose the first part! however i WILL be filing away the second part for future use! thanks so much for joining in on the fun <3
this is part of our Summer Suntacular event! come check it out!
Tumblr media
You frown as the nylon fabric snaps against your skin with a crack. You tug on the waistband of the bikini bottoms one more time, seeing if this fifth and final time will actually make the red high waisted bottoms look acceptable. It doesn’t.
“No,” you mutter to yourself in the mirror. With a sigh, you slide your hands up to the matching top, shifting the tiny triangles to try and cover the slightest bit more of your skin. “Absolutely not.”
As much as you loved the ruffled, scarlet bathing suit when you’d seen it in the store, you don’t love it nearly as much now that you have it on. The fabric sits awkwardly, digging into your skin and bulging in all the wrong places. You take a deep breath, blinking back tears.
“Walls!” You shout down the hall, forcing your voice to be as steady as possible. “I changed my mind. I’m not going.”
Your boyfriend is at the door in an instant, sliding so fast across the wooden floors that he almost slams into a wall. Bracing himself on the chipped paint of your doorframe, he tilts his head at you.
You hate the way your voice shakes as you try to speak. “I can’t go.”
Wally’s gaze softens as he takes you in completely. From your bikini that’s almost the exact shade of his suit, to the glossy sheen of your eyes that tells him precisely how you’re feeling.
“Baby.” He releases the door from his grip and shuffles slowly—slower than you’ve ever seen him—towards you. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He stands close behind you, green eyes fixing on yours through the mirror. You flick your eyes down, opting instead to stare at your socks and spare yourself the embarrassment of Wally seeing you this way.
You shift your arms to hide your stomach, as if that will hide the way the bathing suit disfigures you. “I feel awkward.”
“Awkward?”
“I—” The lump in your throat is almost unbearably thick, and as you open your mouth to speak, the floodgates burst open. “I look horrible! It’s so embarrassing, Walls.”
Your knees wobble and you pitch forward, the hard floor beneath you looking so incredibly inviting—but Wally catches you before you can fall. His strong arms pull you to his chest, using his own body to support yours.
“Don’t look!” You sob, “please don’t look.”
He lifts a gentle hand to your cheek, brushing away the fat tears that sizzle their way down your skin. Gone is his usual goofy demeanor, his supportive side shining through.
Wally keeps a firm hold on you while you cry, occasionally using his hand to brush away stray tears. “Let it out, it’s alright,” he murmurs in your ear.
You dig your nails into your palms in an effort to ground yourself, coupling the motion with deep breaths. Wally murmurs praise to you the whole time, embracing you as you come down from your breakdown.
When you’ve finally stopped, Wally brushes away the final tears before they can fall and gently strokes your chin until your eyes meet his in the mirror. He offers you that famous, shining grin—his smile only growing brighter when you give a hesitant one of your own.
“Now,” he says softly, gripping your chin firmly in his calloused fingers. “Why is my girl so down on herself?”
You loose a sigh, glancing at the awkward red fabric still clinging to your body. “It’s just this stupid bathing suit.”
Wally follows your gaze, narrowing his eyes at the clothing as if he could laser it off. He drops his hand from your chin and runs it down your side. 
Beneath his touch, electricity crackles, filling your veins with liquid fire. He fixes his hand on your hip, fingertips just barely sliding themselves into your waistband. 
“This is what’s giving you so much grief?” His hot breath fans over the side of your neck. “This stupid scrap of fabric?”
Even the air conditioning isn’t enough to stop the heat that follows Wally’s touch. You let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the way his fingertips slip further and further down your bathing suit bottoms. 
Your enjoyment is cut short by a sharp tug and a loud ripping sound, snapping you out of your daze. You notice all too late as cold air hits your exposed core and Wally holds up the tattered remains of your bikini bottoms. 
“Wally!”
“What?” 
You stare slack jawed at the shreds of what was once your bathing suit. “That was expensive…”
As if he can’t hear you, Wally suddenly grabs the centre of your top and rips it clean down the middle. The nylon slips down your shoulders and pools on the floor, leaving you completely naked. 
“It was making you upset.” He shrugs. “I’ll buy you a new one, alright?”
“The bathing suit wasn’t the problem…”
“Then what is?” It’s more of a challenge than a question, his green eyes crackling with mischief. 
“I—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re the problem.”
You almost laugh at how quickly he cuts you off. You don’t answer him, opting instead to lift your chin and meet his eyes. 
He plants a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He kisses the inner part of your shoulder. “I think you forget that sometimes.”
“N-no,” you say shakily, though you’re unsure what part you’re replying to.
“Really?” He exhales, the feeling of his breath on your sensitive, exposed skin making you shiver. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks next. “Let me show you how pretty you are, baby.”
Wally has you laying on your back in your bed before you can even react, manhandling you with all the care in the world. He cups your face gently, pressing his lips against yours and stealing all your breath away. The familiar, intoxicating scent of citrus and coffee feels your nostrils—peculiar, but unmistakably him.
He pulls away, leaving you out of breath. You can only manage one deep, shaking breath before he’s touching his lips to the centre of your collarbone, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Your chest flutters in response.
Wally looks up at you, his gorgeous green eyes dark with lust and filled with love—all of it for you. He plants a kiss to the centre of your chest, keeping his eyes on yours as he moves to give a sloppy kiss to each nipple. You swelter under his touch, fireworks exploding in each new place he kisses.
“Pretty, pretty girl,” he coos, kissing his way down your stomach and to your hips. “Fucking beautiful.”
The heat in your core nearly boils over when he makes it to your hips, his tongue swiping across the skin just beneath your tummy. His hands slide to grip at either thigh, separating them to make room for himself in the middle. Despite the heat threatening to consume you, you shiver in anticipation.
Wally looks at you one more time, pure adoration in his gaze, before diving into the aching heat of your cunt. From the first brush of his soft tongue against your throbbing clit, you’re so gone. 
“So fucking good,” he mumbles between your legs, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.
You can’t help but buck your hips, thrusting against his face in a desperate attempt to get more. Wally steadies your wild movements with a heavy hand to your tummy, pressing down till it makes the knot building inside of you impossibly tight. You shut your eyes and grasp desperately at something—anything—to ground you during his relentless assault on your heat.
Wally whines as your fingertips tangle in his hair, but says nothing. He shifts his grip, grabbing your thighs and tossing them over either shoulder. The backs of your knees ache from the sudden stretch, but it’s a welcome distraction from how fucking hot you feel and how fucking good his tongue feels lapping your gushing cunt.
He pulls away for only a second to take a breath before shoving his face further in, his nose bumping against your clit harshly. You suck in a breath, throwing your head back. You’re wound so tightly and everything is so incredibly, impossibly hot, every movement he makes threatens to send you over the edge.
Wally spurs forward, practically suffocating himself in your cunt, and begins tracing circles around your aching hole. His scalp aches from where you tug at  his fiery red strands, but you taste so fucking good and you look so goddamn pretty, he’d welcome anything you’d give him right now—even the pain.
He dips his index finger inside of you, and before he even bottoms out, you’re unravelling. You thrash beneath his grasp, the only thing keeping you from seizing violently is his hand holding your stomach. The world around you blurs, tears pricking at your lashes as your cunt spasms and gushes on Wally’s face.
He doesn’t let up as you come, keeping his finger inside to give you something to clench around. His face stays buried in your cunt, gladly accepting all your sweet juices onto his waiting tongue. It’s so hot and so messy, coating his lips and dripping down his cheeks and staining his t-shirt—but he doesn’t care. Not when you taste so good, not when you’re so gorgeous.
It takes nearly a minute for the world to come back to you, and even when it does, it’s still spinning. Your chest rattles with each breath, heart seemingly pounding as fast as Wally runs.
He pulls away from your cunt with the biggest grin on his face, the whole lower half of his face glistening. “Fuck,” he groans, licking his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good.”
Despite your breathlessness, you reach out with a shaky hand to tug at the collar of his shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling him towards you. Wally gladly follows, crashing his lips against yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth. 
You’re both breathless, panting from the heat and the friction, and when he pulls away, a sloppy trail of spit connects your mouths. 
Wally almost cums right then and there just from how you’re looking at him—lips all puffy and swollen from making out, stars in your teary eyes. 
“God, baby, don’t look at me like that.”
You tilt your head at him. “Like what?” 
“Like I should fuck you till you can’t think anymore.”
And just like that, the fading fire in your core roars to life once more. “Wally,” you mumble, reaching for him again. 
“Say you’ll let me.” He bats his eyes at you. “Say you’ll let me fuck that gorgeous, gorgeous cunt.”
“Please fuck me, Walls.” You look up at him through your lashes. “Please.”
Wally has his pants down to his knees before you’re even done speaking, not even bothering to pull them all the way down. He dips two fingers into your folds, collecting your slick and eagerly rubbing it down his hard length. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows just so you can watch as he lines his tip up with your opening. He pushes his hips forwards, the tip of his cock just barely slipping into your cunt. You suck in a breath at the slight ache—his width is always a bit of a shock—and let yourself fall back into the pillows. 
Wally gently presses down on your stomach, groaning at the way you clench around his cock as he bottoms out. The tip of his cock perfectly brushes your gspot with every shaking breath he takes while he forces himself to stay still. 
The second he feels your walls ease up, he’s pulling out and slamming his hips back into yours. His thrusts force all the breath out of your body, each one rougher than the last. Despite how aggressive his movements are, you know this is restrained for Wally, that he’s holding himself back on your behalf. 
“Wish I could stay buried in your cunt forever.” He pants. “Never wanna let you go.”
Wally leans further into you, propping himself on his arms while his hips slam into yours hard enough to bruise. Breathless moans are forced from you with every movement, Wally pressing his lips against yours to drink up each sound you make. 
He folds you in on yourself, your knees pressing into your chest and allowing him to go even deeper. He buries his face in your neck, half panting and half kissing you. 
“Wally.” You gasp out.
The feeling of his cock just barely brushing your cervix is more than enough to have the knot in your stomach building. You wrap your arms around him, curling your fingers and digging them into the muscles of his shoulder blades. 
“S—shit,” he groans. “Feels so damn good.”
He gently nips at your neck, rolling his hips into yours and finally sending you over the edge. Heat floods through you, all of your muscles seizing as your orgasm rolls over you. You close your eyes, digging your hands even harder into Wally’s skin, desperately riding out wave after wave of pleasure. 
Wally’s hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier, and then your clenching, gummy walls are sending him over the edge with you. He forces himself as deep as he can, bottoming out just as the first waves of hot cum flood through you.  
The aftershocks of your orgasm are so exhausting that you can hardly feel Wally collapse on top of you, bearing the full weight of his body. The two of you pant in unison, chests fluttering together. With every breath he takes, his soft, sweaty hair tickles the side of your neck. 
Wally lays tangled with you for a few minutes, his cock still buried inside of you while he regains his strength. 
Finally, he sits up with a grin. “So,” he says, “how’s my beautiful girl feeling?”
Wally laughs when you give him a weak thumbs up from below him. “Good.” He smiles. “And don’t you ever forget it.”
Tumblr media
summer suntacular | masterlist | dc masterlist
(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)
471 notes · View notes
star2fishmeg · 2 months ago
Note
CONGRATULATIONS ON THE MILESTONE!!!
can i get a fluff # 38 with Quinn please?
Thank you for requesting <3 - Happy Halloween🎃
FLUFF #38 "This isn't what it looks like!"
📞 dialling…
It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. Halloween night was supposed to be some kick-ass night of partying and making memories to look back on, dressed up in embarrassing, funny or even incredible costumes but it just couldn’t turn out that way this year. It was just embarrassing, especially since it was an NHL Halloween party and she was spending a large portion of it draped over a toilet bowl in her bandit costume, retching up all the vodka cranberries Brock had somehow convinced her were a good idea. 
Leant against the sink cabinet in his sheriff’s get-up, Quinn stroked her back soothingly, doing his best every now and then to brush any loose hairs away from her mouth, worry written all over his face. It wounded him, seeing her like that, but as she once said, ‘what goes down, sometimes must come back up.’ It wasn’t how he expected his Halloween to go, especially not his early years of being the captain. 
When y/n took his hands with half-lidded eyes under the low colourful lights and started leading him out of the living room and towards the bathroom, he thought of the best, not-so-romantic but certainly enjoyable scenario a young couple could have at a party. Instead, she’d B-lined for the toilet, and he’d dropped to his knees and hands straight to her hair to keep it out of the way. 
“‘Atta girl, I got you,” he softly reassured, tearing off pieces of toilet paper and handing it to her, “we’re not leaving until you’re empty, even if I have to stick my fingers down your throat.”
She groaned, wiping her mouth and discarding the tissue in the toilet, sitting back on her heels, ripping off another piece of toilet paper, and dabbing it under her eyes to catch the welled tears. Thank God for waterproof mascara. “That was one- maybe two times and it’s not like you haven’t chosen to put your fingers in my mouth before.” 
“Different context though, very different context, pretty girl. Are you feeling better?” He chuckled, moving from his sitting position to a crouch, hands on his knees. 
“Yeah, thank you, again. Please don’t let me out of your sight now, Brock can be a terrible influence when he’s had vodka.” Y/n nodded, standing up and straightening out her outfit, Quinn running his hand through his hair, his shirt slightly untucking itself from constant position changing every five minutes. 
She took a glance in the mirror, screwing her face up at her smeared lipstick and used her finger to make herself look presentable at least. A fond smile spread across his lips, chest meeting her back as his thick arms wound around her waist firmly, nose burying itself into the crook of her neck and his eyelashes fluttered closed, relishing in the peace and quiet he had with her before venturing back out into the wild. Cherishing her floral perfume, the minutes when he could float on cloud nine without someone hooting and hollering in the back at him. Y/n leaned her head against his, letting his body melt like wax into hers and she smiled.
“Love you s’much, you know that, right?” he asked with a deep voice, muffled by her skin and clothes slightly. 
Thumbs rubbing gently over his arms, the hairs and warm skin, she hummed, “I love you too, more than words can describe.” 
For a minute the only sounds were the subdued music from the communal space and the buzz of the light, controlled breathing hot on her neck until he pulled away, placing his cowboy hat back on his head. She fussed around with her hair, attempting to make it less of a mess but messy enough to match her costume, Quinn’s love-sick puppy gaze watching her with adoration in his eyes, chest swelling with warmth. 
It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way, and they’d never live it down. Quinn let y/n slip past before closing the door behind him innocently, only to look up to make direct eye contact with bright blue ones and Prince Charming from Shrek smirking directly at him, eyes occasionally jumping to y/n. They both froze, hearts suddenly hammering in their chests for no reason. At all. But Brock was ruthless when it came to teasing Quinn, watching the sweat shimmer on the captain’s neck and the words slipped out too fast before Quinn could think of a way to play it off honestly.
“It’s not what it looks like!” 
It looked exactly what Brock thought it was; sweating, dishevelled hair, y/n’s missing lipstick, still slightly smeared under her lip, lovestruck eyes, untucked shirt. It was exactly how Quinn imagined his Halloween would go.
Brock’s smirk quirked into a grin like he’d struck gold, and he rubbed his beard, nodding cockily, like he was proud, “Huggy, you dog.”
269 notes · View notes
desperate-gay · 10 days ago
Note
Would you write for Aitana, it would probably work for another Spaniard like Alexia since she's also cold averse, if not.
My thought is that r is from some colder climate country and takes player back to their country to celebrate the holidays, and player is constantly freezing and like demanding cuddles and kisses to "keep warm". Fireplace cuddles, cute snowy moments, meeting the fam, and just fluff all around.
Frost Bite
Aitana Bonmati x fem!reader
summary: your girlfriend has never been to the states during christmas, and boy does she have some problems with it
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“You guys live here voluntarily?” Aitana asks in disbelief, already shivering from the New York winter’s breeze.
“I lived here, last time I checked I now live with you in sunny Barcelona. Now please help me with our bags, Tana.” You correct, dragging two heavy suitcases out of the taxi cab’s trunk while your girlfriend rushes to your side after previously hugging herself in an attempt to warm up.
The tip of your nose is already beet red from just the few minutes of standing outside. Aitana and you are both bundled up in thick coats and hats, already prepared for the intense change of weather. Your breath can be seen entering the air as you softly knock on the door that used to be called home years ago.
“You guys are finally here!” Your mom squeals after nearly ripping the door open off its hinges. She quickly pulls you into a tight hug you can’t exactly return due to your hand still holding onto your suitcase.
“As much as I have missed you, we are terribly freezing out here.” You hint with a smile, causing your mom to gasp in realization and pull both you and your girlfriend into the warm atmosphere of the house.
Aitana sighs in relief as the heat washes over her body, not at all being used to the drop in temperature. You both take off everything that can be hung on the coat rack and what can be left by the door in order to move further into the room.
Your oldest brother along with his wife sit on the large sofa, enjoying whatever is playing on the TV. While your other brother who is only a year younger than you lays on the floor, wrestling with the two family dogs. Then you have your eldest sister with her husband both smushed on the chair, and finally, your youngest sister in the kitchen, helping your mom and dad.
Your girlfriend has already met your family plenty of times, having been dating for 5 years. She never feels awkward or out of place, especially when everyone welcomes her with open arms. Aitana was the first girlfriend you actually brought home to meet your family and thankfully they all adore her.
“Someone decided to finally see her siblings!” Your younger brother, James, jokes while throwing his hands in the air in celebration, causing the dogs to go crazy and tackle him to play.
“Now that is exactly what you get.” You say pointedly, grabbing Aitana’s hand and pulling her over to the dining table which is between both the living room and kitchen.
After a few minutes of catching up and greetings, you both stay seated at the wooden table, watching all your siblings bicker at each other and your mother and father prepare dinner. 
“Are you okay? I know that all the chaos can be a bit overwhelming at times.” You smile sympathetically, realizing you haven’t asked how your girlfriend is feeling since you’ve gotten here.
“Oh please, I live and work with chaos every day, and plus, I love tu pequeña familia.” You smile at the spaniard's words and reach over the wooden surface to hold the soft skin of her hand.
You both look at one another with lovesick smiles etched across both of your faces. Many couples warn about the spark fading after years of being in a relationship, but yours and Aitanas only seem to get brighter with time. Besides the occasional argument here and there, nothing has ever made your love for each other dim.
“So Aitana, have you been using your English over in Spain?” Your mother asks behind the counter, cutting off your little love bubble. 
Your mother always teases her for forgetting some English when she visits because she never really speaks it over at home. You are usually the one who speaks Spanish in order to communicate better with your Barcelona team.
Aitana blushes in deep red, knowing her answer won’t be satisfying. “Uh, yes?” The brunette says in her thick accent, trying to make your mother happy by speaking in the language.
“She so has not. Keira and I try to get it out of her after every game so she can use it in post-conferences.” You intervene at your girlfriend’s obvious lie, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, watching as the girl’s jaw across from you drops in disbelief.
“Traidora.” Your girlfriend gasps, continuing to stare you down with squinted eyes as you just smirk in response.
After an hour or two, dinner is all finished and everyone is packing up to go to their own destinations. You and Aitana are staying at the house considering you live a few countries away along with your younger sister who is on college break. Your parents have made sure you’re both settled in your once-old bedroom which is now a guest bed. 
“As much as I love and treasure my family, they sure can be exhausting.” You huff while dramatically falling backward on the bed in a starfish position, bouncing up and down from the springs.
“I thought everything went well.” The brunette shrugs, folding the rest of her clothes to put in the dresser.
“I never said it didn’t go well, I said it was exhausting. Two different scenarios.” You sit up on your elbow with your head resting in your hand so you can watch your girlfriend.
“Meh meh meh.” Aitana mocks, smiling when she sees your offended expression.
You dramatically sigh, flopping right back down on the bed and turning around to make your back face your girlfriend in fake offense. The creak of floorboards approaches you slowly, making you smile in triumph to see your plan to get the spaniard’s attention is working.
“Muy bien, mi amor, tú ganas.” Her arms wrap around your midsection, forcing you to roll over onto your back so the brunette can have a good look at you.
“Siempre gano.” You peck her nose and flip your bodies around so you’re now resting on top of her lap. “So tomorrow we will be going downtown to see the huge christmas tree, and then we will maybe go window shopping, play in the snow, maybe even ice skating-”
“-No, no skating. I may be good with my legs in football but on ice? Absolutamente no.” She declares, rubbing her hands up and down your thighs, sending waves of heat through your body at the simple touch.
“Alright, no ice skating, got it.” You fake solute, bringing a smile across your girlfriend’s face.
“Besides that, everything sounds magnífico. I just can’t wait.” You quirk your eyebrow when she begins to sit up more with you and inch her hands higher up your thigh. “So why don’t we fill in the time we have, sí?” She husks before sharply flipping you both once again so she now hovers over your body.
“My parents are just down the stairs, and my sister is across the hall.” You say in a hushed voice but a smile is still engraved across your face.
“Mmm your parents are downstairs sleeping, and your sister is across the hall also sleeping.” Aitana says, kissing your neck in all the right spots that she’ll know will make you cave.
“I don’t know-”
“Just be quiet bebé.”
“Tana, I have to go grab our drinks.” You laugh as the girl continues to latch onto your arm, acting as if you’re her only source of heat, even in the cozy cafe.
The spaniard is bundled up in a large coat, which makes her frame look extremely small, gloves, a scarf, and a beanie hat. Granted, she isn’t used to the weather, being in a warm cafe should help her with cooling down.
“Here you go, baby. There’s a seat over there.” You say, handing her the warm beverage and pointing over to the corner of the room.
You both sit in comfortable silence while talk fills the busy cafe. Aitana has finally taken off her gloves and instead uses the hot chocolate as her hand warmer. You’re both around the same height and size but with her being shriveled up, she looks abnormally cute and small.
“I don’t know how you do this. Siento como si mi anillo de la nariz se estuviera congelando.” Aitana exaggerates, taking another sip of her drink, and letting the hot liquid warm down her throat.
“You know, you seem to speak a lot of spanish when you’re cold. Should I expect this when we play out in the snow?”
“La nieve? Oh no no no, mi vida. We are not playing in the snow.” Your girlfriend replies bluntly, shivering at the thought of touching the cold surface.
“What? That was part of our plans.” You frown sadly, having been looking forward to showing the girl a huge part of what it was like growing up here in winter.
“Not happening.” The brunette shakes her head, sounding as if she has already made her decision.
You felt an overwhelming sense of sadness replacing your once contentment. Aitana seems to notice it as she watches you go quiet and stare longingly outside where families sprinkle snow at one another, laughing in cheer.
“Alright, fine, but you owe me so many kisses and hugs. Deal?” Aitana rasps, willing to do anything to make you happy, even if it means almost freezing to death in the fluffy ice.
“Deal!”
A bright smile plasters on your face, making the girl across from you chest flutter in delight, loving nothing more than your radiating happiness. Aitana basically goons at you with heart eyes. Any person who shared half the amount of love as you two would be considered extremely lucky.
After finishing your drinks, you drag a begrudgingly Aitana out of the cozy building into the crisp air. The brunette swears she can feel her insides frost up when the cool wind hits her.
“Over there! There’s a bunch of people making snowmen.” You exclaim, continuing your tug on the spaniard, wanting to claim your space before anyone else can.
“I don’t know how to do this.” Aitana admits, standing awkwardly on the side as you begin to pack a snowball to roll.
“I’ll teach you then.” You smile as you place the ball of snow back on the ground. “All we have to do now is roll this ball around so more snow can stick and gather to it so it becomes bigger.” Your girlfriend nods her head before taking a deep breath and rubbing her gloved hands together, preparing herself for a bit of coldness.
Once she gets the hang of it, she begins to smile in joy, knowing she’s doing something you love with you and actually being able to do it. You begin to make another ball for the middle of the snowman’s body as Aitana continues rolling the bottom.
“We did it.” Aitana grins cheerfully, looking at your standing creation.
“Ah, we’re not done yet. Oo, there’s some twigs over there.” You stomp off, leaving your girlfriend standing confused and watching you longingly.
You come back merely seconds later with two sticks in your hands. The brunette looks at you confused when you extend your arm, handing her one of the brown twigs. She hesitantly accepts it but continues to stand there in silence.
“There we go.” You smile triumphantly after sticking the twig deep into the frozen ball before nodding at your girlfriend to do the same but on the other side.
“He’s complete, no?” 
“As complete as we can make him for now.”
“So, we can go back to the house now?” You look over at the girl with a quirked eyebrow, taking in her sheepish smile and rosy cheeks. 
Rolling your eyes in defeat you agree, making the girl pump her fists in victory. You shake your head amusingly before locking arms and starting your walk home.
“Thank you for humoring me and playing in the snow.” You whisper, cuddling into your girlfriend’s side while watching the fireplace flicker.
Your parents and sister had left to go to some neighborhood christmas party while you and Aitana decided to stay back. You both now lay on the cozy couch in the living room, warming up in front of the fireplace as the TV plays some cheesy Hallmark movie.
“I was not humoring you. I wanted to make you happy and also see your fun but cold traditions.”
You move your head off her shoulder and face her with a big grin. Aitana and you both lean in halfway into a soft and passionate kiss, locking lips tenderly and rubbing your hands slowly against one another’s skin. When you pull away, Aitana chases after your lips in despair, not wanting the kiss to end quite yet.
“Tu prometiste besos.” The spaniard grumbles in fake irritation, wanting to connect your lips once more.
“I also promised cuddles which I will be giving you now, miss grumpy pants.” You tease, pushing her to lay back against the couch so you can sink in front of her, allowing her arm to wrap around your waist.
“That will be mrs. grumpy pants soon.” Aitana mumbles under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, mi amor. Let’s watch this movie that has the same plot as the twenty others we have already watched.”
394 notes · View notes
tayraedoll · 1 month ago
Text
My Compliments to the Chef
The smutty and soft finale of the series. MDNI 18+ only
Part 1
Part 2
TW: Smut, P in V intercourse, fingering, oral-female receiving with mentions of male receiving, sensory deprivation, self-consciousness, reader is uncomfortable in her own skin, body scars, body worship, hurt/comfort, fluff
Tumblr media
Alastor advanced on you slowly, the famished look never leaving his eyes, he reminded you of a cat that finally cornered the mouse it was hunting. For every one of his steps forward you had to take two back to keep the distance between you even. You eventually ran out of floorspace when the backs of your knees hit his bed, with you effectively trapped the demon was quick to close the distance completely.
He grabbed you by your jaw, holding your face up so he could press his lips to yours again. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him. His free hand wrapped around your waist in a vice grip like he was afraid you'd run away if he let you go. He released your lips with a 'pop' to trail his lips down the your exposed throat, nipping the skin to leave little love marks. When the hand on your waist started to dip under your shirt you violently jumped to the side to put space between you once more.
For a moment Alastor stood stock still, the position making it look like he was holding an invisible person. He blinked a couple of times before straightening up and looking at you quizzically, wondering if he had read you wrong. His head cocked to the side, carefully scrutinizing your body language.
Your heart hammered away in your chest, you bit the inside of your lip as you tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself. Being with Alastor in this way was thrilling, but even the excitement of the moment wasn't enough to quell the insecurities that were screaming at you.
When you finally composed yourself you gave him an apologetic look, "I am so sorry. I-It's just that...", you trailed of as you looked down, trying to find the right words to explain yourself.
Long fingers hooked under your chin again to make you look up at his face, "My Dear, my sincerest apologies if I overstepped-"
"No! No, it's not that. Um.. it's my scars. They don't end at at my arms, they are kind of all over. I...I'm not exactly pretty to look at", your voice trailed off, becoming a whisper at the end. You looked over at the fireplace to avoid his eyes staring down at you as tears welled up in your own.
Alastor let go of you and backed away. You had to suppress a sob; here it was, the rejection you were so terrified of.
The rustle of fabric caught your attention, Alastor was laying his coat across the his bed; he then stared right at you as he pulled at his bow tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Nimble fingers slowly started to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Al...what are you doing?", you asked completely bewildered. Part of you wanted to look away- the intense look in his eyes, how his chest fluff slowly came into view in such a sensual manner- it was almost too much, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him.
After releasing the final button of his shirt, Alastor painstakingly slowly pushed it off his shoulders and revealed his bare torso to you. You gasped, a hand flying up to your mouth as you took the sight of him in. His black arms and tawny body were littered in scars; unlike yours, his scars disfigured the skin where it ripped apart and sewn itself back together. One long gash made its way from his right hip to left shoulder- the wound Adam gave him in the battle at the hotel. Your feet carried you over to him before you were conscious of the movement, hand raised in front of you as it hovered above his chest seeking permission to touch.
His hand grasped yours before you could make contact, vulnerability flashed briefly across his face before it hardened into a more determined expression. He slowly brought your hand to the space where his heart was enclosed in his sternum, resting your palm on the mended skin of the axe wound. "We all have our insecurities Dear, not a single one of us is immune to the judgements our minds cast upon us." His eyes stared intently into yours, watching as tears formed and slowly fell down your cheeks. This wound must have been excruciating; it looked so large and deep, it was a miracle he survived it.
You finally ripped your eyes from the scar to look back up at him, his expression was a mixture of uncertainty, desperation, and primal hunger. A new determination settled in your mind, your dried your tears with your hand that was not touching him and stepped fully into his space leaving just an inch between you two. Your fingers ghosted over his skin, feather-light caresses applied to each of the scars you could see. Some were raised and rough to the touch, while others were smooth and shiny; the muscles underneath would twitch with each new blemish you stroked.
One finger remained on his body as you lazily walked around him to his back. You were met with the same myriad of cicatrices forming constellations across his dorsum. You felt braver without his eyes being able to stare you down from here, after each stroke of your finger you planted a chaste kiss to the marking.
You heard the gasp he made the first time you pressed your lips to his body, a small smile gracing your face at being able to elicit such a response from The Radio Demon with your gentle affections. After revering every scar across his being you finally came back to face him, your heart skipping a beat when he immediately close his arms around you and pulling you into a needy kiss.
Alastor's fingers grabbed your hips and he slowly spun you around so your back was to him. Opening your eyes, you were met with a mirror that had magically appeared out of nowhere. You met Alastor's eyes in the reflection as he leaned in to whisper in your ear "Allow me to show you just how transcendent you truly are."
He snapped his fingers, but your vision didn't go black as you expected it would. Instead, you were ushered into a world of total silence. Your wide eyes locked onto crimson orbs as his red claws slowly lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes never left yours even as he unclasped your bra. You struggled to resist the urge to cover your breasts, swallowing hard as every imperfection was revealed to the mirror.
His hand collected yours and raised it to his lips, tender kisses were pressed to your knuckles before he flipped your hand over to gently nip at the pulse point of your wrist. A gasp ripped out of your throat at the sensation, your eyes flying shut. His lips stilled completely, all sensation coming to an abrupt halt. You peaked an eye open, Alastor was watching you with a patient yet disapproving gaze. Once your eyes met his he slid his lips up your forearm, nipping and kissing along the borders of your reddened skin. Anytime you averted your gaze from his ministrations he would completely stop until your eyes found his again.
When he finished pecking and nipping your arm he moved across your shoulders, meeting your neck where he used his cheek to push your head to the side to grant him access. By now heat was pooling in your belly; your thighs rubbed together as subtly as you could as your abdomen clenched with every graze of his teeth on your skin. By the time he reached your other wrist you were certain your panties were ruined.
Looking in the mirror now you could barely recognize yourself; your lips parted in an "O" as soft whimpers and pants left your throat, eyes glazed over and half-lidded. You had never seen yourself look so fucked out and he hadn't even touched you in a sexual way yet.
His fingers ran down your ribs and across your abdomen, meeting right below your navel to unbutton your jeans. He pulled both your pants and panties down your legs slowly until you could step out of them. Your cheeks heated up as you stood naked in front of the mirror, the predatory eyes of the demon behind you raked over your form greedily.
One of his hands came around you again, a curious finger dipping into your folds. Your body jolted, back arching and hips pushing into his touch. You let out a mewl you could not hear as your head flew back and hit the demon's chest, your eyes closing on instinct. Just like before, Alastor's movements stilled as soon as your eyes left the mirror.
His other hand crept up the back of your head, tangling into your hair and forcing your head back up but you kept your eyes closed. Displeased, Alastor leaned forward and bit your ear just hard enough for it to sting. It elicited his desired affect as your eyes flew open once again. He subtly shook his head at you as his hand tightened in your hair- you would not be turning away from the mirror again. Just as you resigned to your fate the claw in your folds reminded you of its presence as it circled around your clit.
You bit your lip, using all your willpower to keep your attention on yourself in the mirror. The claw circled your bundle of nerves faster and faster, your wines silent to your own ears as your hips started to buck into his hand. Your eyes were now glued to the way his dexterous digits played with your nub.
A finger slipped inside of you quickly followed by a second, his thumb still applying delicious pressure to your clit. His pace picked up, fingers curling inside you to hit that spongy spot that nearly had your knees buckling under you. In the mirror you could see that your face was flushed, beads of sweat broke out across your forehead, your chest heaved with every breath. Your vision went white as you clamped down on his fingers, lips parted in a scream as Alastor watched you unravel at his hands.
A low chuckle alerted you that your hearing had been restored. When your vision re-focused the mirror was gone and you were laying in bed with Alastor hovering over you. You took the chance to allow your eyes to roam over his body- lean muscle, chiseled abdomen, a deep v-line at his hips, and a fucking monster of a cock ready to impale you. Your eyes blew wide open as he lowered himself down on you to leave love nips down the column of your throat; his member sliding through your folds and collecting your slick.
"Al-Alastor," your body trembled, "I haven't slept with anyone since I died and there is no way I will fit all of you inside me!"
"Hmm," Alastor hummed completely unconcerned, "you can, and you will My Dear." His arms reached down and hooked your knees with the crook his of elbows, effectively spreading you wide open for him and leaving no way for you to push him away from your core as he slowly sunk into you inch by inch.
You choked as the intrusion stole the air from your lungs, your nails digging into his shoulders as you instinctively tried to push him back to no avail. It stung slightly as your walls struggled to accommodate him, the full feeling overwhelming at first. He stilled once he was buried to the hilt, giving you time to get accustomed to the sensation. Your breath came in short gasps as your legs shook vigourously in his hold; it felt like he was buried in your guts, his tip pushed flush against your cervix. "Relax Mon Cher, I won't push you beyond what you can take," he peppered chaste kisses across your cheekbones as your breathing evened out, the full feeling becoming more pleasant than intrusive.
Once your walls relaxed around him the buck started to slowly rock his hips in shallow thrusts. Pain quickly gave way to pleasure and a lewd moan fell from your lips as your walls fluttered, his pelvis grinding into your nub perfectly with each thrust.
"That's it Dear, such a good girl- taking me so well. See? I knew you were an expert at handling meat", Alastor growled at you, biting down on your neck just below your ear. You whimpered, his cock catching your entrance with every thrust forward and bullying that spongy spot. His arms lifted your legs higher towards your chest, you couldn't be spread open any further. Your Overlord lover licked the bruise he gave you, it would be impossible for you to hide without a scarf.
The coil in your core tightened, your legs quivering uncontrollably as your toes curled. Your nails raked down his back desperate to ground yourself amongst the pleasure; you idly wondered if you could leave scars of your own along his spine.
His pace turned absolutely bruising as he chased your collective releases. "Tu es parfait, si délicieux, mon petit chef."
His cockhead rammed into your cervix like he was trying to bust through it. A scream of intense pleasure ripped out your throat as the coil finally snapped, sending a flood of arousal out of your cunt. Alastor watched your face contort with your orgasm and committed the stunning sight to his memory. His own release surged into your fluttering cunt with a groan, his forehead falling onto yours, your breaths mixing together as you both basked in post-coital bliss.
"La mesure de l'amour, c'est d'aimer sans mesure", he whispered before giving you one more deep and sensual kiss.
"You know I don't speak French right? I have no idea what you've been saying", you giggled when he pulled away.
"Hmm, I will teach you some day My Dear. For now, let's just enjoy this moment shall we?", he rolled over and draped you across his chest. You snuggled into his chest fluff, inhaling the smell of sex and Alastor's musky scent as you drifted off. Right before you fell into unconsciousness you heard "Je t'aime".
You smiled- you knew that one, "I love you too."
Alastor awakened with a start-something was wrong. He reached out for you only for the space you had occupied to be vacant and cold. He shot up, looking around the room but saw no sign of you. The clock on the wall read 4:30 AM, Alastor got out of bed to search for you- had you gone back to your own room? If so, why?
He snapped his fingers to quickly dress himself, only for his chest to remain bare. His shirt was not with his other clothes...your clothes were still littered across his floor however. Alastor hummed at this clue, he'd either find you in his shirt or you'd be roaming the hotel naked.
He felt secure enough to shadow travel without covering his upper body, it was so early in the morning no one would be roaming the halls at this time except the two of you. He checked your room first but quickly moved on when he found no sign you'd been there for hours- probably since you woke up the previous morning.
The next most obvious room to investigate was the kitchen. The demon cursed himself for not preparing his room for your activities, surely you woke up thirsty and had to trudge all the way to the kitchen for water if you didn't wake him up. He would correct that egregious oversight on his part promptly.
The demon stopped dead in his tracks as he manifested at the kitchen door. The radio was playing a modern "pop" song he was unfamiliar with and your sweet voice was singing along to it. Slowly, he approached the kitchen and leaned a shoulder against the door frame as he took in the scene before him.
You were practically dancing around the kitchen in nothing but his shirt (which comically came down to your knees), singing your heart out to a song about two lovers whose passion burned so intensely it was like fire on fire. You flitted between the hot stove and the various spices on the counter, so absorbed in your task you hadn't noticed the 7-foot-tall deer demon in the doorway.
Alastor watched you with a soft smile on his face, his heart swelling in his chest. He recognized the spices you had out- all the staples of a traditional cajun seasoning. When you added them to your dish he noticed that you never measured any of them, letting your sense of smell guide the spice profile of the food. A bottle of his favorite bourbon also sat on the counter, no doubt if he checked the hotel bar he'd find that Husk was missing that bottle of whiskey.
You mixed the alcohol into a pan, causing a small flame to rise that you expertly handled while spinning the bottle in your free hand like he would his cane. Alastor chuckled at your theatrics, you hadn't noticed him yet so he knew you were showing off for yourself. Soon enough, the mouth-watering aroma of cayenne, garlic, and pork wafted into the air. The Overlord's heart soared when you brought the dish together- cajun pork chops with a bourbon glaze and a vegetable medley of brussel sprouts, zucchini, and peppers. He was approaching you before was aware he was moving.
You startled at his sudden appearance, hand clutching the buttons at your chest, "Sweet Satan Al, please give me some kind of warning before you just waltz on in like that!"
"Apologies My Dear, I did not mean to scare you. However, I am curious, what brings you to the kitchen at this hour?", he stood just inches from you, heart about to beat out of his chest if his suspicions proved to be correct.
"Well-uhh," your face turned beet red and you looked down at the food bashfully, "I guess I was just feeling inspired and couldn't get this creation out of my head. So I needed to find out if I could pull it off."
"The pork chops, that's your signature dish is it not?"
You nodded your head, shyly looking back up at him, "I added a twist to it though."
He reached a hand out to cup your cheek, moving so his chest pressed to yours, "You changed your signature dish...for me? You fused our cooking together." It was not a question, the declaration sat there on a plate in front of him.
"Yes", your answering whisper was just barely audible but it was all the confirmation he needed. You squealed when his hands hooked around your thighs and sat you down on the countertop, his shirt riding up your thighs. He immediately pressed his lips to yours and demanded entry into your mouth with his tongue.
After several minutes of making out like lovesick teenagers, Alastor pulled away to inspect the plate, "It would be a shame to let this all go to waste."
He ran a claw through the glaze, but instead of bringing it to his mouth as you expected he painted it over your neck. Before you had the chance to object to having the sticky sauce on your skin he licked a wide stripe up your throat, cleaning it of all the dressing. He had to admit you did a phenomenal job of balancing the bitter bourbon with sweet brown sugar...and it complimented the taste of your skin incredibly well.
You moaned as you threw your head back, elongating your throat for him. His hands gripped onto each side of your (his) shirt and tore it apart sending buttons flying in every direction. "Alastor! Someone can come in and catch us!", you shrieked as you scrambled to cover yourself again.
Alastor was having none of it and promptly caught your wrists and pinned them against the cabinets above you. "Poppycock Darling, no one will be awake for hours yet. Now, lets enjoy this meal you so artfully crafted shall we?"
He used the glaze to paint more trails across your body- starting at your throat and going down through the valley between your breasts, down your navel, and multiple strokes on your inner thighs. "My, my Mon Cher. You are the most delectable meal I have ever laid eyes on. Care if I have a little nibble?" He didn't wait for your answer as he dove down, licking up every drop of sauce and leaving bites along the way. You bit down on your hand to stop from screaming out a moan when he bit down on your breast just hard enough to leave teeth marks.
He pushed your thighs apart to make room for himself as he settled on his knees before you. His tongue ran up each thigh as slowly as he could restrain himself to. "Your glaze was perfect my dear, but I am looking forward to tasting a different coulis from you."
He pressed the flat of his tongue to your thigh and licked all the way up to your core. The second his tongue made contact with your folds you jolted, crying out in sheer ecstasy as your legs clamped shut on his head. He tutted at you disapprovingly and summoned his shadows to hold your knees as far apart as they'd go. Satisfied with your position, he dove back in, leaving kitten licks on your clit before sucking on it harshly.
You fought to hold in a high-pitched keen, fisting one hand in his hair and using the other to hold one the top cabinets for balance. Alastor’s hands locked around your hips in a bruising grip and slid you forward so your ass was just barely on the counter anymore, the only reason you were still precariously perched there was his tight hold and his shadows holding your legs.
Alastor let go of your clit to plunge his tongue deep into your drenched hole. One hand let go of your hip to begin making tight circles around your nub as his tongue searched for that special spot that made your vision spotty. His efforts were rewarded when your body convulsed, back arching and pushing your pelvis into his face when he found it.
He didn't let up for a second, he doubled-down on his efforts- tongue bullying your spongy walls repeatedly while his thumb pressed harder and harder circles to your clit. The pressure built up quickly, tears forming in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your moans as to not wake anyone. You bit your bottom lip a little too harshly, a droplet of blood trailing down your chin.
The sight made Alastor go feral, with a guttural growl he removed his tongue from you pushed three fingers inside to take it's place, instantly setting a brutal pace. His mouth turned back to your pearl, sucking it harshly and using his upper fangs to pinch it ever so lightly.
The pleasure, the pain, the sheer ferocity sent you catapulting over the edge; you couldn't help but to let out a blood-curdling scream that a shadow quickly muffled by clamping over your mouth. Your walls squeezed his fingers like a vice, trapping him within you while his tongue soothed your bundle of nerves and helped you ride out your orgasm.
Once your body released his fingers, he brought his thumb up to capture the blood on your jaw. Keeping his eyes on yours, he made a lewd show of licking his fingers clean of your slick and blood.
"My compliments to the chef My Dear!", he chuckled to himself as you caught your breath. He gingerly set you back down on the floor, allowing you to use him for balance as your legs wobbled.
You took a look at the plate, only the glaze eaten,"Well, since you said this shouldn't go to waste I suppose I will finish it." You picked up the plate and a fork, wrapped Alastor's shirt back around yourself, and began trekking towards the staircase.
"And where do you think you are going Mon Cher?"
"Back to your room. I heard you call me an expert meat handler yesterday, figured I should show you just how well I can truly handle my meat", you made a show of pushing your fork into your mouth suggestively, giving him a wink before turning on your heal and taking off.
Alastor stood there dumbfounded for just a second before a smug smirk split his face. With a snap he melted into the shadows to chase after you; a paper fluttering to the countertop to let Charlie know that both chefs would be preoccupied for the day. All he planned to devour this day was you.
Thanks for reading! This was such as fun piece to write, I hope you enjoyed it!
Here is the song that reader was singing as she was cooking:
youtube
Tags:
@voxslays
@ladyadrasteia666
@angeldustharmony
@milkissesx
@shealizxx
@sh3sa1dwhat
@littlebluefishtail
@ustulia
@christinebloodwrittings
@alastorsgirl48
@shea4u
205 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 2 months ago
Text
Kinktober #19
Tumblr media
19. Suspension // Fisting // Mirror Sex (Old Man Logan x Reader)
Tumblr media
You like looking at the way Logan plays with you.
You like the size of him compared to you, all four hundred pounds of adamantium and muscle crowding into your space with permission to make you feel small. Like the feel of his chest hair scratching up against you and the marks it leaves, coarse kisses on your skin. Like it when he fucks so deep into you that you can see the outline of his cock in your belly, claiming you from the inside out before he pumps you full of his come.
Oh, how you like to look.
It doesn’t take long for Logan to figure that out.
He has you standing in front of the mirror which lives in the corner of your shared bedroom, your back to his front, completely naked. He’s not taken off his suit after work and you can feel the buttons of his dress shirt digging gently into your spine, a half-irritation half-tease.
Usually this mirror is ignored, another coat hanger for his jacket, but tonight it’s the centre of attention.
“Logan…” you whine as he bites at your pulse with gentle teeth.
“Shh, baby, I’ve got you.”
His hand, calloused and dry from a long day at the wheel, carefully traces the shape of your breast, and you can’t tear your eyes from the way his fingers dance across your body. He knows you so well, all the places which make you fall apart under his touch. A thumb brushes your nipple and you gasp involuntarily, body breaking into gooseflesh.
“You like it when I touch you there, sweetheart?”
“I like it when you touch me anywhere,” you breathe, and the hum he lets out lets you know you’ve said the right thing.
“Hmm. I like it when you touch me too, honey,” he chuckles, gruff and sweet. You admire the span of his hand against your skin as he moves lower, coming to cup your sex. A finger presses between your legs and you cannot rip your eyes away from the way he parts you, so gentle and yet so firm. 
“Already wet for me.”
“Yeah…” you admit, feeling heat rising in your face. Again his mouth drops to kiss along the length of your neck and shoulder, beard scratchy and delicious over your soft skin. He rubs your clit a couple of times with a practised movement before pressing in deeper, fingers sliding inside your cunt with ease. First two, pumping in and out, slowly soaking themselves in your slick, then three when he knows you can take it. Without meaning to you arch back into his body for support. The hand not between your legs slides around your waist, locking you in place against him as he works his magic.
“Logan… oh, Lo…” you whisper, trying to verbalise that you’re on the edge but feeling totally powerless beneath him. Another kiss which turns into a much-appreciated bite at your jugular, not hard, never too hard, but enough to thrill you.
“Shh, baby. Let go. I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”
His thumb comes up to rub into your clit and you watch the way your body crescendos: chest heaving, sweat creating a sheen all over you, and finally cunt soaking him to the wrist. The sleeve of his shirt changes colour as it dampens with your release. He does not stop moving, fucking you with his hand through your orgasm until you’re boneless in his arms.
The moment he feels you slump he’s gathering you up in his arms and bringing you to the bed, showering your body with kisses. Such a sweet, dedicated man. Would do anything for you, to make you feel good.
“You with me honey?”
You manage to nod. The kiss this time is on your lips.
“I’m gonna drag the mirror over so you can watch yourself bounce on my cock. Does that sound good, baby?”
The moan which rips through you is illicit, and answers his question with a definitive yes.
Tumblr media
271 notes · View notes
mermaidgirl30 · 3 months ago
Text
✨On My Knees for You✨
Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader
Tumblr media
A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a fic for a while that was all about making Joel Miller feel good. So thank you to @lotusbxtch and @mountainsandmayhem for feeding me ideas and letting me scream with you about this one 🩵 I wrote this one for my Halloween writing event!
This is a one-shot for my series Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller. It takes place a little over a year into their relationship. I hope you enjoy these two love birds! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading 🩵
Summary: You’re supposed to be getting ready for a Halloween party, but maybe you’ll just have to be late because all you can think about is getting on your knees and making Joel Miller feel so good.
Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI
Word Count: 3.6k
Tags: Porn with plot, getting ready for a Halloween party, angel and devil couples costumes, cock/ball worshipping, deepthroating, dirty talking, pet names, use of daddy, no use y/n, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), teasing
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Tumblr media
Sparkles shimmer across your light pink eyeshadow, sprinkling down your glowing cheeks. Dark red lipstick stains your lips a cherry-coated color. The black eyeliner that’s sharpened into pointy cat eyes makes your eyes pop under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Your hair spirals into perfect waves as you adjust the halo that sits atop the crown of your head. With one more spritz of cotton candy perfume, you’re ready for the Halloween party.
   When you exit the bathroom, you linger in the full-length mirror, adjusting the feathery wings that lay flat against your back. You circle slowly, examining your lacey angel costume for the Halloween party. One that Joel was taking you to, even if he wasn’t normally one to get excited to dress up or participate in Halloween parties. He was doing it for you. Plus, you might’ve got Tommy and Maria to convince him to go. 
   He eventually gave in after a few times of pressing, but he’d never say no to you. He was always going to go, if that’s what you wanted. Because he loves you and would do just about anything for you, even wear matching couples costumes. One an angel, the other a devil.
   You giggle as you think of the events that unraveled over the past few months. Joel Miller, your father’s best friend, the man who was off-limits to you for so long was now your boyfriend. It was all a silly little flirting game until it wasn’t. All that changed when he gave in and kissed you under his living room lights a little over a year ago. Back when he gave you that handsy guitar lesson that turned into crowding your body and fucking you relentlessly into the leather of his couch. 
   You still remember it so clearly. Just like it was yesterday. His plush lips nipping at your delicate neck, licking flames into your sweat-coated skin. His meaty hands teasing up your thighs, enticing words making you give in, his smoldering eyes lighting you on fire as he slipped two fingers beneath your drenched lace. And then, you were gone. 
   And now? The two of you were unstoppable, unbreakable. Two flames that couldn’t burn without the other. He was your favorite part of every day. Your infinite. Even if your father wasn’t thrilled when he found out, he eventually came around. And now, Joel Miller was all yours.
   The almost sheer mini skirt barely grazes the tops of your thighs, your thigh-high shimmering tights teasing your tanned skin. The white satin corset hugs your curves tightly, silk ribbon spilling underneath your pushed-up breasts, sparkly heels flashing diamonds under the dim lights of Joel’s room.
   He’s going to absolutely lose it when he sees you in this sexy getup. Especially when he gets a peek at your new lacey white panties. The ones you’re hoping he’ll rip off later tonight. 
   You hear him shuffling around downstairs, truck keys jangling by the front door, leather boots making their way toward the staircase. Suddenly, you have the best idea. A little Halloween treat to satisfy his hunger. The kind of surprise that’ll leave him tongue tied and speechless.
   You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, letting the navy comforter pull up your mini skirt higher, almost exposing your brand new lingerie. You arch your back, lean against your hands and wait with bated breath for him to find you all splayed out just for him. Like a present he’ll get to savor over and unwrap slowly.
   You can’t wait to see his reaction. 
   His heavy footsteps shake beneath the wooden steps, voice deep and booming as he shouts up to the bedroom. “Baby, you almost ready? Think Tommy’s gonna beat us there.”
   “Mhm. Can you come here for a second? Need a little help with something,” you call out, pushing your breasts together so he gets the best view of your sexy Halloween costume. 
   It was your idea to go as an angel this year, and Joel chose to be a handsome devil. And God, he was handsome alright. Even if he chose to wear his favorite green flannel and dark blue jeans. He pulled it off just fine with red devil horns and a glowing pitchfork.
   Two more steps and he’s turning right into the room, his broad body filling the expanse of the doorframe. “Okay, sweetheart. But we gotta… go.” He freezes in the doorway, wide brown eyes gawking at you as his mouth drops to the floor. 
   And… jackpot. 
   “Surprise,” you say in a lilty voice, biting your bottom lip to tease him even more. Get the blood pumping in just the right places.
   “Baby, you’re—you’re…” He drops the plastic pitchfork to the floor with a bang, his mouth hanging open like a thirsty hound dog. 
   “What? Cat got your tongue?” you tease, sliding your heels along the grey carpet, eyefucking him while you lick your bottom lip enticingly slow. 
   That does it right there. You can see it in his glassy brown irises. He’s done for.
   “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. That outfit. It’s—fuck,” he replies, voice husky and shaky from your relentless teasing.
   “You like it?” You cock your head and give him a sexy smirk, eyelashes fluttering his way.
   He takes a step inside the room and drags a palm over his patchy beard slowly, his eyes gliding down your body like he’s memorizing every single inch of you. “Baby, I don’t like it. I love it. Never seen such a pretty angel look so sexy before. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you beautiful girl.”
   “Bought it just for you. And these…” You slowly spread your legs, exposing the lacy panties that are now slick and wet from anticipation of him seeing you.
   He audibly groans, curses under his breath as he takes a few steps forward, mouth dropped as his eyes slide over your core.
   “Don’t you dare start that. Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls, his towering body hovering over yours like he’s about to pin you down on the bed. “‘Cause if you do, we ain’t leavin’ this house for another hour.”
   You lift your leg and push him back with your bedazzled heel, making him back up a few steps so you can slide down to the floor. He looks at you with questions swirling in his caramel pools, one eyebrow arching as he watches you get on all fours. He mutters a curse under his breath when he realizes what you’re doing.
   You’re teasing the hell out of him.
   “I just want to do one thing first,” you whisper, voice low as you start to crawl toward him, dragging your hands and knees unhurriedly, clawing the soft carpet until you’re right beneath his looming form.
   Your hands languidly snake up his legs, fingernails digging into the denim of his jeans, leisurely making your way to the jagged zipper.
   “Baby…” he mutters, choking out when you start palming him through his jeans. 
   “Joel,” you smirk, working his hard length through the material of his blue jeans. You’re basically drooling at the feel of his thick bulge against the palm of your hand. Can already tell how badly he wants you. 
   God, it makes more slick run down the gusset of your white lace. 
   “We’re gonna be late,” he breathes heavily as you pop his top button open and lazily drag the zipper down.
   “So, we’ll be late,” you whisper, smiling up at him while you bite your bottom lip seductively. Your hands pull his leather belt through the belt loops, and then you start to shimmy his jeans and black boxers down to the ground.
   He places a hand swiftly on yours and halts you before you go any further. “You’re gonna ruin your pretty red lipstick, sweetheart,” he tries to warn, his chocolate eyes growing darker by the second. 
   “Then let me ruin it.” You push him down into the light brown lounge chair and tug his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free of the confines of the tight material. You gasp when you see how hard and swollen and thick he is. He looks like a fucking work of art. Art that you want to devour.
   “Goddamn it,” he groans as you work his length up and down, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Sliding the precum that bubbles over his swollen red tip up and down his shaft. Just the way he likes it. 
   “Let me make you feel good, daddy,” you beg, teasing your tongue over the head of his cock and running it slowly over the slit. He groans as you taste his salty precum. “Wanna taste you, swallow you, choke on you.”
   “Yeah?” he croaks, one hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl wants to choke on me?”
   “Mhm,” you hum, licking up the underside of his cock, tongue gliding over the large vein that wraps around his thick length. “Choke me, handsome devil. Wanna gag on your fat cock.”
   He grips the back of your hair roughly and pulls hard, forcing your eyes up to meet his deep black pits. But the way he’s smiling at you, a playful smirk curling over his plush mouth, tells you he’s letting you take control just as much as he is. “C’mere then. Be a good girl and wrap those pretty lips around daddy’s cock,” he chuckles darkly. You happily oblige with a smirk.
   Taking your time, you kiss up the length of him, languidly flicking and swirling your tongue in circles against his angry tip. You giggle when he curses under his breath and audibly gasps when you take him deep in your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, you take him deeper and deeper. Until your nose is hitting his coarse, wiry hairs at the base of him, sputtering and choking as his tip kisses the back of your throat.
   “Fuckkk, baby,” he whimpers while his hand holds your curls back from getting in the way.
   You love to tease him, love to savor his salty flavor all over your tastebuds, let his seed run down the back of your throat when his orgasm bubbles over. You could do this all day. Get down on your knees while he takes you to church with his thick cock thrusting deep inside your throat. Being choked never felt or tasted so good. Not until Joel Miller showed up. Not until you got that first taste of him over a year ago. 
   You’re addicted, obsessed with making him feel good after he gets home from work. He always makes you feel good, so there’s nothing you love better than making him feel twice as good. He’s a good man, the best you’ve ever had. Now it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. 
   You gag around his hard cock, sputtering as you pull your mouth away, leaving behind a bead of drool that connects from your puffy lower lip and ends at his swollen tip. Your eyes are watery, mascara clumped on your wet eyelashes, and you feel how smeared your red lipstick is. But never mind that because Joel’s looking down at you like you’re the shiniest diamond in the world, pupils blown out and a cheeky grin plastered on his mouth.  
   “Feel good, daddy?” you ask, hand sliding in smooth motions over his massive cock, tongue licking at the bottom of one of his balls while you continue to fist him up and down, smearing more precum and drool in the process. 
   He hisses when you begin to suck, drool caking his skin while you start giving the other one attention with your other hand, squeezing and licking back and forth. “Yeah. Feels real good, babygirl. Makin’ daddy feel so good,” he moans while you massage his balls and work your tongue back up his shaft, leaving red lipstick marks all down his ballsack.
   You fucking love worshipping his cock, his balls, his everything. And you love the way he moans, bucks his hips when you deepthroat him, mutters out curses when he’s so close to coming undone. You savor his salty taste, memorize his guttural groans, praise the way he moans your name when he’s thrusting deep inside your throat. 
   You just love him. And you love making the man cum.
   Deciding to tease him more, you flick your tongue in tantalizing circles, right over his most sensitive spot where his slit pumps more precum out. 
   “Babygirl,” he warns in a husky voice, a deep growl biting at the edge of his throat. 
   “Yes, daddy?” you ask innocently, batting your long eyelashes up at the love of your life. 
   “I’m gonna need ya to stop teasin’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs, eyes slightly narrowed. 
   You giggle, popping him out of your mouth for just a second to catch your breath. “Or what?” you challenge, hoping he’ll catch on or give you what you both want. 
   “You know what,” he smirks, his fingers tangling around your loose curls tightly and drawing you closer. 
   You tick your head to the side and smirk while he matches your fiery stare. He wants it just as badly as you do because you fucking love to swallow him. “Is the big bad devil going to choke me?”
   “Mhm. That’s right, angel. The devil’s gonna choke you alright.” He pushes your head down until your lips are molded to his cock, driving you down down down until you’re gasping for breath. When he brings you back up for air, he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his mouth you’ve ever seen.
   “Look at you. Fuckin’ droolin’ and makin’ a mess on my cock, babygirl,” he smirks, pupils blown wide as he takes in your tear-soaked face. 
   “Mhm. Your mess,” you breathe out with a gasp. 
   He chuckles and nods his head, his tousled curls now messy and disheveled against his sweat-drenched forehead. “That’s right, love. My mess,” he smiles, his light brown irises glistening under his blown-out pupils. “Wanna deepthroat me, sweetheart?”
   You nod up at him with tired eyes, wanting nothing more than to make him cum. “Yes, daddy,” you mewl. 
   “That’s my good girl,” he praises. 
   You settle your palms on his strong thighs, hovering just above his swollen tip. He repositions his hand and fists your hair gently, slowly pulling you back down until you’re sliding your pursed lips over his thick length, taking in his deep musk that masks the stifling air. 
   Taking a deep breath, you get in position and let him work you up and down his length, his hips starting to rut up until he’s fucking your mouth at a rapid pace. You hollow your cheeks, suck him deeper as he thrusts his cock in and out, making you gurgle and gag around his thick width.
   “Jesus Christ, takin’ me like such a good girl. Feels—fuck. Feels good, baby. You still okay?” he chokes out, sweat beading down his tanned forehead as you squeeze his thigh and look up at him through watery eyes. The signal you give him to show him you’re just fine.
   “I’m so… goddamn it. Need to feel you,” he groans, fucking his cock deeper down your throat. As deep as he can go without suffocating you. You just take it, let him pull your hair forcefully, let him hear just how full of him you are, let him use you to get the release he deserves.
   “I’m ’bout to… ‘bout to cum. Ahhhh fuck. Right there. I’m right fuckin’ there,” he moans, throwing his head back as he fucks your throat relentlessly.
   The room starts to spin like a tornado as he shoves you down, deepthroating you as much as you can take. Drool coats your chin. Sputtering, obscene noises fill the room as your throat constricts around his fat cock. You have to breathe through your nose to get any airflow because you’re suffocating.
   Your vision blackens, throat so full of drool and his cock that you think you’ll pass out. Think you might just see heaven’s gates before Joel orgasms. 
   Just when you think you’re done for, Joel’s guttural groans pull you out of the fog. Your nose nudges against his coarse hair, lips molded around his huge width, throat open and squeezing around him as tears stream down your ruined face. 
   “That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you—want you to swallow,” he moans, fingers locked tight in your hair, pulling your head down until you feel him start to spill.
   “Right there. Right—ahhhh fuck.” He’s coming undone, hot ropes of cum leaking down your throat. That salty taste that makes you cross your eyes and suck him down.
   You can’t feel anything but his seed coating your throat,  cum spilling over your smeared red lips, drool caking your chin and sliding down his balls. He’s fucking wrecked. Just like you are. 
   You stay right there, hands firmly on his thighs, lapping up the delicious salt of him until he’s slowly coming back down from his high. And then you’re slowly getting pulled off his long length, drool coating his softening cock.
   You sputter out, coughing violently from being choked by Joel’s thick cock. His large hand glides between your shoulder blades, trying to help you swallow it all down, get ahold of yourself once more. And when you finally feel like you can breathe the stifling air, you collapse against his thigh, cheek pressed against tanned skin as you focus on deep breaths.
   You feel his hand gently massage the back of your scalp, rubbing light circles on the crown of your head as he whispers for you to relax. It feels good. Feels relaxing when he’s caressing you like this. Like you’re his best girl. 
   You are his best girl.
   “Easy now, baby. Jus’ breathe. Did so good for me,” he coos, fingers lacing through your now messy curls. You know you’re a fucking mess, but you just don’t care. 
   “Did I make you feel good, daddy?” you ask, speech a little slurred and voice hoarse from deepthroating Joel.
   He lifts your chin up, index finger and thumb stroking your skin, starting a warm flame kindling in your body. When you lift your eyes, you’re met with warm, syrupy eyes. Eyes that you fell in love with the moment you saw them that first day at the lake.
   His smile is so warm, so big. He looks like he has stars in his brown eyes the way he’s looking at you. All in love while his thumb caresses lovingly against your cheek. “Mhm. Made daddy feel real good, pretty girl,” he grins, eyes shimmering like onyx under the dim lights. 
   God, you love this man.
   “Yeah?” you ask, giggling when he leans down and gets right at eye level with you, a huge smile curling over his plush mouth.
   “Yeah,” he confirms, pushing a loose curl behind your ear before he pulls you into his broad body. His lips crash against yours. His whiskey taste serenading your tongue, woodsy scent making you heated and dizzy from the smell of him. He’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Addicting and dangerous but yet bottled up with love and care. 
   When he pulls away from you, he smirks, hand trailing down your breasts, going south until he’s trying to slide between your thighs. “Now, let me take care of this—”
   You stop him right there, shoving his hand away with a tsk. “We need to go, baby. We’ll be late.”
   “But I…”
   “Later,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, brushing your lips against warm skin and leaving a red lipstick mark on his cheek.
   He chuckles and nods, teasing his calloused fingers along the nape of your neck. “Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ know that when we get home tonight, I’m takin’ real good care of that pussy. Understand?” He gives you that look. The one that makes your skin tingle and clit pulse with need. You’re going to suffer through this entire Halloween party if he keeps teasing you like that. 
   “Understood, handsome. You going to do that one thing? You know, that special trick with your tongue. What do you call it? Tongue twister,” you giggle while he throws back his head and lets out a belly-aching chuckle. One that makes warmth bubble up inside you. You could listen to him laugh for hours. That melodic, carefree sound. You love to see him happy.
   He wipes off some of the drool and red lipstick on the sleeve of his flannel, laughing as he cleans you off. “You’re such a mess. You know that?”
   You give him a big toothy smile and nod. “Mhm. You love it, though.”
   He sighs and shakes his head, chuckling while he strokes his thumb under the bottom of your lip. “Mmm, yeah. I love you, pretty girl.”
   “I love you too, Joel,” you murmur, eyes glossy. You’re so in love. You give him a quick peck to the cheek and smile up at him, like he’s your entire world.
   He scoops you up off the floor and leads you to the bathroom, littering kisses up and down your jawline. “C’mon. Let’s get your cleaned up before we go. Don’t need ‘em knowin’ what we’ve been doin’ tonight,” he laughs. 
   After he cleans you off with a warm washcloth, you fix your costume and hair. Red lips glossy again, halo straight, wings flat against your back, corset back in place, miniskirt grazing your thighs. And then he takes your hand and leads you down the stairs, into his truck, and to the party.
   Halloween parties were always something you loved, but what you loved more was making Joel Miller, the love of your life, feel good. And that’s exactly what you did tonight. 
   You made his entire Halloween once again.
Tagging a few moots 🩵 @almostfoxglove @almostempty @magpiepills @sanarsi @ace-turned-confused
@aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn @burntheedges
348 notes · View notes
bishopsbeloved · 10 months ago
Text
a night in
kate bishop x female reader
After dinner plans are cancelled, Kate Bishop skips straight to dessert
straight up smut, kate topping, she is so fucking horny, fingering, oral (R receiving), mentions of her strap, 1.4k words
Tumblr media
Dating Kate Bishop keeps you on your toes.
At the last possible minute, as the two of you were ready to leave her apartment in white tie attire for the high-end Valentine’s dinner reservation awaiting you, she got a call from Clint that had her huffing and grunting and tugging off her blazer.
“Stupid— fucking— superhero thing,” she’d muttered, fumbling with her quiver, “won’t— give me a, uhm, a couple hours, baby, I’ll be so quick.”
When she comes home, you’re at the kitchen counter, preparing a homemade meal in place of your prior plans. You’re still in the tight little number she picked out for you to match with her suit, figuring she’d still want to take it off you. The front door slams, and almost instantly she’s dropped her gear on the ground and made a beeline towards where you’re stood.
“Hi, baby,” you murmur, setting down the knife and turning to face her. Within a moment she’s pressing herself against your back, hands on your hips, stopping you from moving.
“No,” she sighs against your skin, her chest to your back, her mouth on your neck. She leans into you, draping herself over your back to pin you between her body and the counter, and hold you in place. “Stay.”
You’re quiet, cheeks reddening as her lithe arms curl upwards to let her hands cup your tits. Sometimes she’ll hold them just for the sake of holding them, but today she wastes no time in beginning to roughly grope them over your dress, fingers tugging hungrily at the cleavage.
“Katie,” you sigh, unable to stop yourself from leaning back, instinctively relaxing into her touch. She’s solid behind you, deceptively strong, groaning against the skin of your neck and then taking it between her teeth. You whimper.
“Was thinking of these the whole time I was gone,” she tells you lowly. She fumbles with the front of your dress, whining in the back of her throat when she can’t free your tits with ease.
“J— just my tits?” you manage, overwhelmed by her, arching your back into her touch.
“All of you,” Kate admits hoarsely, her hands moving to undo the zipper of your dress now. “Just you. Fuck.”
She’s all over you, she’s everywhere, beginning to grind herself against your ass as she trails open-mouthed kisses across the newly exposed skin of your shoulders. She tugs your dress down further still, impatiently rutting against you like a dog in heat, and you wince as you hear fabric rip.
“S’fine,” she mutters against the skin of your spine, sending shivers down it. She begins to tug you towards the sofa. “C’mere.”
“Katie, the food,” you remind her.
“I don’t— screw the food, we’ll get takeout. You taste better.”
She grips your hips as she sits on the sofa and pulls you onto her lap. The dress is somehow squirmed off of you entirely, leaving you in nothing but panties, and as Kate fights with the buttons of her own shirt you’re finally able to take her in — her pretty lips are parted as she pants softly, cheeks a little flushed, pupils blown. She looks up at you as she tosses her buttonup aside and a thrill of arousal shoots through you as her darkened, hungry eyes lock onto yours and finally your lips meet.
You whine openly into her mouth as her tongue slides against yours, and her hands make their way to your tits again, her thumbs toying with your nipples. Without the boundary of your dress you can feel how cold her hands are, and it makes you tense, squirming a little.
“Shhh, sh sh,” she soothes against your lips, “just let me play with you. Been— been thinking of you like this all night, baby, fuck.” She drags out the syllables, her voice dripping with need, and she’s not the only thing that’s dripping.
“You’re so wet, huh?” Kate muses as your wetness seeps through your underwear and onto her trousers. She jogs her leg, rubbing against your cunt and watching with amusement as you squirm. “Yeah? That feel good, baby? You want more?”
You cry out in the affirmative, and one hand stays on your tits while the other slides down to nurse your overwhelming wetness. She toys with you over your underwear, teasing your clit until you’re shivering in her arms, before growing impatient with her own games as she often does and sliding her cold hand beneath the lacy fabric. You yelp at the contact, and let out a low guttural cry as she slides two fingers into you without hesitation.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothes you, lazily curling her fingers inside of you as the pad of her thumb makes its way onto your clit. “Just be a good girl and take it. I’ve been outside working, I’ve been so cold, and I was thinking of this the whole time. You’re gonna be good for me and warm me up, okay? You gonna warm up my fingers?”
“Y— yes,” you cry out. You’re rolling your hips into her, arms curled around the back of her neck, and as the pleasure grows more intense your head falls forward to rest on her shoulder. You pant softly as, on every thrust into you, Kate fucks into the sensitive spot of your gummy walls that makes your vision go white.
“So— s’good,” you whine, breath hot against her skin, and you feel her shiver a little.
“Yeah?” she murmurs, picking up the pace a little. With every thrust your wetness seeps out of you and down onto her thigh, soaking it. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” she says desperately, whiny, her own hips beginning to rut up into you as she fucks you, and it’s the way that she gets off on your pleasure alone that has you gasping and teetering on the edge.
“Cum— cum on my fingers, baby,” she almost begs, an arm looped around your waist to hold you in place as she fucks you steadily, sinking her teeth into the soft skin of your neck. With a cry you obey, blinding waves of euphoria rolling over you as you clench around Kate so hard that she struggles to continue thrusting into you.
“Fuck, fuck,” she grits, fucking you through your orgasm and shuddering a little. The realisation that she’s cum in her pants just from fucking you has you whining, dragging your fingernails down her back, rocking into her. Eventually she pulls her hand from your cunt, sucking your slick off of her fingers and whimpering at the taste.
“Have to taste you,” she mumbles, almost to herself, easing you off of her lap onto the sofa and then getting on her knees. “Just take what I give you, baby, so good for me.”
Kate nudges your thighs apart, burying herself between them and running her tongue up your slit. She groans at the taste, not caring for your little whimpers of overstimulation.
“So fucking good,” she breathes, one arm wrapping itself around each of your thighs to hold you in place. You’re too far gone to muster a reply.
Kate Bishop always eats you out like a woman starved. Tonight, though, she’s hungrier than you’ve ever seen her. She laps at you messily, her nose nudging against your sensitive clit, desperate to engulf you. You’re crying out her name, writhing, and when you reach out to wind your hand through her hair she looks up at you through her lashes. Her eyes are wide and dark, lips swollen, the entire lower half of her face glistening with your juices. She blinks up at you hungrily, still lapping at your clit, swallowing everything you have to offer her, and the sight paired with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you is enough to have you cumming on her tongue. She hums approvingly against you, the vibrations only prolonging your orgasm, and you feel so overwhelmingly good you can’t even move. Eventually she slows down, sensing your need for a break, and makes her way back up your body to tug you into her arms and hold you close to her.
“So good for me,” Kate soothes you, a hand combing through your hair. “So good at taking everything I give you. So, so good, my gorgeous baby.” She waits until you’ve come down a little more, until your eyes are a little less glassy, before grinning at you. “Happy Valentine’s, sweet girl. You want to ride my strap next?”
790 notes · View notes
hopesworlld · 9 months ago
Text
౨ৎ sweet like marabou, look at you
Tumblr media
౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — sugardaddy!hayden x sugarbaby!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — hayden can't handle the thought of anyone seeing you without covering you in his marks
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 2k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, ownership, possesive!hayden, smut ( dirty talk, hickeys, oral sex f receiving, overstimulation, mention of sex ) hayden calls reader a whore a couple times. think that's all !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — oh this concept has me screaming, crying and ripping my hair out
masterlist
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁
“what do you think you are wearing?” hayden hissed, crossing the room in two short strides so that he was stood before you, eyes falling onto the black dress that clung to your frame, it was strapless and only fell to about mid thigh, the hem and neckline decorated with pretty white tulle. 
“my new dress,” you hummed, running your fingers along the black fabric, glossy lips twisted into a ditzy little smile, “don’t you like it, daddy?” 
“you wanna wear this out?” hayden asked you, “let everyone see you dressed up like a little whore?” he scoffed and your eyes went wide, a flush spattering across your bare chest. 
“no, daddy,” you spluttered, “it’s just pretty i… i thought you would like it,” you pouted, eyes falling down to your feet that were clad in pretty black heels. hayden sighed, reaching out and pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back up so that you were facing him, tears glossing your doe eyes. 
“baby doll,” he said, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, brushing the pout from your petal lips, “it is pretty, but some of you is only for daddy, don’t need the other guys at the office seeing those pretty thighs,” his free hand ran down your side, landing on your thigh and squeezing it gently. “i’ve seen how they look at you when you come to my office in your little skirts, hoping that you’ll bend over and give them a show,” you whimpered at his words, shaking your head slightly in his grasp. 
“don’t want them though, daddy, want you, only you,” you told him and hayden grinned, leaning in and brushing a featherlight kiss on your lips. 
“i know, baby,” he told you, “daddy treats you so well, huh, could never leave me, you would be so lost,” he chuckled, kissing you again, laughing louder when you chased his lips, pouting when he pulled away and smirking at you. “tell me, baby doll, tell me what you need,” hayden prompted, sapphire eyes piercing as he watched you swallow, gazing up at him as though he had hung the moon and the stars. 
“you, always you, daddy,” you said softly, “need you to look after me, protect me from people who try and take advantage of me,” you continued, parroting the words that hayden had once whispered into your hair after bending you over his desk and spanking you until your cheeks were stained crimson when he noticed you chatting for just a little too long with one of his coworkers. he always knew best. 
“good girl,” anakin said, taping your cheek with his palm, “always so good listening to daddy,” he praised, “now we have to leave in a minute so you are gonna let me mark up those pretty thighs so that when everyone see’s you in this dress they know that you belong to me,” he demanded, and you were in no position to tell him no, not when you heard the low timbre of his voice, how he looked at you with those pretty blue eyes, as beautiful as they were hypnotic. you wanted him to claim you, show everyone at his office party that you were his and only his, it sent a rush of heat down to your core, especially as you watched hayden drop to his knees and gaze up at you. 
“daddy,” you whined as he ran his hands along your thighs, leaning in and planting delicate kisses along the tops of them, slowly trailing inwards to the meaty flesh bellow your dress, dangerously close to you lace covered cunt. 
“hush, baby doll, we don’t have long,” hayden said against your skin, trailing to the tops of your thighs and suctioning the skin there, it was a mixture of pleasure and pain and he sucked crimson marks onto the skin, he trailed up and down your legs, finding any free space to suck his mark and leave you decorated in ruby bursts and the slick of his spit. you had never seen hayden so determined before, he had always been possessive, of course, you were his baby doll, his little play thing, arm candy and whatever else he wanted you to be. but right now he was feral, you watched in fascination as he trailed kisses up your inner thigh before grabbing your right leg and swinging it over his shoulder in a sift motion, you would have lost balance if it weren’t for his big arms securing around your waist and holding you in place. 
“so pretty,” he cooed before suckling down on the sensitive skin of your thighs, grinning as he watched you skirm. 
“daddy,” you cried out, hands falling to his broad shoulders to stabalise yourself. “daddy, please,” you said, as hayden ghosted over your panties now on show for him seeing as your dress had rode up to your hips when hayden had lifted your leg. 
“what is it, baby doll?” he asked teasingly, “feeling a little sensitive here, darling,” you whined in response, head all fuzzy from hayden’s actions, he had the power to utterly control you with just a few simple touches and he loved it. “what do you want? you have to tell me what you need,” he prompted pressing a kiss over your covered clit before slipping back to your thighs, suckling at the skin just where your dress would sit when it was pulled down. 
“want daddy to play with me,” you pouted, bucking your hips slightly in his hold and hayden snickered, kissing your thigh. 
“feeling needy, baby doll?” he asked, “all it takes is me marking up your thighs to get you wet? such a desperate girl for me,” but he didn’t care, he loved how badly you craved him, just as addicted to the rush as he was, he would do anything for you and you would do the same. you let out a moan when anakin leaned in, using his teeth to tug down your panties revealing your freshly waxed cunt to his view, sticky wetness clinging to your panties, you little clit flushed rosy and throbbing. “such a pretty pussy,” hayden said, as he always did, it was no secret how much he loved that place between your thighs, no matter if he was burying his tongue, fingers or cock between your folds he fucking ate it up, loving every moment you gave him. “you want it?” hayden asked, eyes flicking up to yours, seeing the lust that clouded your gaze. 
“so bad, please, daddy, wanna show everyone i’m yours, mark your face with my cum,” now it was hayden’s turn to groan, dick twitching at your dirty words and he fucking loved it. 
“yea, baby doll, want to show everyone i’m on the only man that makes you cum, make that pussy squirt all over me,” he didn’t wait for you to reply, to beg for him to give you what you wanted when he was burying his face into you needy cunt, lapping at your slick like a man starved because that was the thing about hayden, he didn’t just eat you out, he devoured you. eating your pussy like it was the last thing he would ever taste, he room was filled with the wet sounds of hayden’s tongue lapping at your cunt while you moaned like a porn star, leg going taunt around his shoulder, hands threading into his perfectly styled hair but he didnt care as he plunged his tongue into your sopping hole. 
“daddy, feels so good,” you told him, hips spasaming as he continued to tongue fuck you. it didn’t take long before that coil in your stomach began to unwind, especially when hayden moved from your slit instead focusing on your clit, the little cluster of nerves bursting at the stilumlation as he sucked the bud between his lips and suckled on it, you almost fell limp as the sensation, you had never known a man who knew who to make you cum as quickly as hayden. 
“don’t stop,” you pleaded, “please, just like that” your words were hoarse, broken by pleasure as your head fell back, allowing hayden to consume you, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything but hayden, the feeling of his mouth, his tongue. “so, close,” you gasped, hayden’s grip on your legs tightened, holding you upright as he grazed his teeth along your clit before giving it a harsh suck, somewhere between pain and pleasure you lost yourself. white spots danced behind your eye lids and you were gone, if it wasn’t for hayden’s strong grip on you, you would have melted into a puddle on the ground, everything around you span, a kaleidoscope of colours churning until you felt nothing but bliss. you vaguely felt hayden lapping up your release but you were too far gone to even react, that was until his mouth went back to your clit. 
“daddy, stop,” you gaped, legs shaking as you yanked at his messy golden curls trying to pull him away but hayden released the grip on you hips with one hand and grasped your shaking hands, pulling them away and holding both your wrists with one hand. “please, i just came,” you whimpered but the pleasure was already building once again, a white hot searing thing that made your legs go numb and spine ache. 
“and you’ll give me another one,” hayden said against you cunt, his words sending vibrations through your body and you knew he wouldn’t stop, he loved you like this, even in a position where he was vulnerable, on his knees while you towered over him he still had all the control, he could force orgasm after orgasm out of you and you would take it.
“oh my god,” you gasped, your legs were going to give way as hayden sunk his tongue back into your copping core and swirling his tongue, the sick sounds of his tongue slurping up everything you gave him too much, a sob tore from your lips, pretty makeup spilling down your cheeks as another orgasm crashed through you, more powerful than the last. you were pretty sure you were screaming but it was hard to tell as you sank beneath the waves of pleasure, gasping for air as hayden finally stopped his assault on your cunt. your entire body was buzzing with pleasure, a glow that stemmed from your core and flared out like sunlight, you bathed in it as hayden gently set you down on the bed a few steps away. 
“feeling good, baby doll?” hayden asked with a silly smirk twisted on his lips, face still coated in your release. 
“so good,” you said, voice cracking from the force of your use of it when you came, this only made hayden’s smirk grow wider as he tugged your pantied back up your legs, you winched when they came in contact with your swollen clit. 
“did so well for me, darling, made me so proud,” he praised and you lit up at his words, a dazzled smile making its way onto your face. 
“thank you, daddy,” you whispered bashfully as hayden pulled you up from the bed and you stood on shaky legs, eyes widening as you caught sight of yourself in the vanity mirror, your mascara had ran down your cheeks in a smokey trail, lip stick smudged around your lips and your hair was frizzy. “oh no,” you pouted, rushing over to dab away the stains. 
“what are you doing?” hayden asked you with a cocked brow. 
“they are already going to know what you did to me by the state of my legs,” you said gesturing down at the skin of your thighs stained crimson, “i don’t need to be walking in looking like a whore,” you huffed, wiping away the mascara and fixing your lipstick. 
“mh, but you’re my little whore, darling,” hayden said, walking behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, a cocky grin painted on his lips. 
“yes, your’s daddy,” you sighed, flattening your hair down, “we don’t need everyone seeing me after i cum do we, daddy?” you asked, fluttering your lashes at him and hayden growled. 
“never,” he promised and you giggled. 
“so, should we get going?” you asked him and hayden nodded, releasing your hips and taking you hand tugging you out of your bedroom, and if everyone stared at you that night because of the marks that stained your thighs you didn’t care, and for hayden, it made him harden in his trousers everytime he caught a glimpse until it was too much and he bent you over the back of his car and fucked you until you cried. 
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁
more sugar daddy hayden maybe???
826 notes · View notes
nouvxllev · 10 months ago
Text
how would you spend your valentines?
Pairing: J.O Characters x Fem!Reader
Summary: in which jo characters spend valentines with you
Words: 6.4k
Warnings: just fluff honestly
a/n: holy shit febs ending and im only posting this now. mb yall!!
masterlist
Tumblr media
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
horrid day
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.0k
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Thing."
A loud thud was made from across the appendages cabinet, accompanied by a more louder door-slam and the menacing steps of combat boots that's probably worn from someone who looks too big for them came after.
Light appeared from his sight and it'd be much better if he died suffocated inside this damn cabinet rather than being forced to look at something, someone rather, being the next satan in line.
Wednesday stared at the hand, her grip on the knob tight as she watched Thing lie flat on the wooden surface, looking like he just got stabbed with something invisible.
"Accompany me to this ludicrous trip I have no idea why I planned for myself." Her tone was calm but it seemed like she was about to subtract one of his digits if he didn't comply.
'Why should I--'
The phrase 'seeing life flash before my eyes' would be an understatement for Thing when he was met with possibly the sharpest blade on earth crossing one of his thumbs.
"Thing you will accompany me or I swear to deities, I will force you to crawl to the depths of hell and its rings back and forth until you've reach exhaustion and blisters on your skin."
Her voice cut through his confidence, her blade almost puncturing a hole.
So slowly, he nodded. If he even can. He just nodded with his palm up straight and his fingers curled.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And that's how Wednesday ended up on the busiest day on the street of Jericho, a hand not attached to her arm but walking on the damn sidewalk with a damn leash and a damned thought in her head.
If only it didn't seem like it was the day of giving every flower and chocolate someone could ever possibly find in a 10-mile vicinity of this horrid town then give it to you as some gift or whatever you called it, maybe she wouldn't be roughhoused more times than she could count by too many people on too many stores.
Wednesday scowled at everyone, even more at the couples who strolled in hand in hand, her fingers firmly gripping the leash that was attached to Thing.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, shooting an irritated glance at Thing, who looked like he was trampled and being trampled to death. "Why did I even decide to follow through with this."
'Because you saw y/n holding a bunch of bouquets and you wanted to out-do everyone who ever gave her a flower because of some reason you don't know but it gives you a weird tingling sensation in your head to the point you want to be ranked first on the lists of serial killers,' Thing signed.
Wednesday kept walking, tugging at the leash. "Nonsense." She whispered to herself. Her voice softened a little bit, more vulnerable even as she looked forward. It didn't matter, nor did she care whether you got flowers, even the most extravagant ones didn't bother her. It didn't. It definitely did not.
But why did she even go here if it didn't?
"I am not trying to out-do anyone. I simply… want to make a statement." She stopped, her steps coming to a close while Thing raised what passed for eyebrows in his form.
Every shop inventory was sold out, even the shops that sold the flowers at an extremely high rate it'd be better if you bought a house at that point and crowds seem to lessen by the time Wednesday reached the last flower shop.
She could get chocolates, but why give you more chances of dying of diabetes?
'Wednesday, you know what you have to do.'
"Thing, please, do not." The grip on the leash explicitly tightened, almost as if she was going to rip the entire thing apart. She was standing strong with her shoulders still, but her mind was only one sign away to break down.
'You have to crochet a bouquet for y/n.'
She bent down and grabbed Thing by his wrists, clutching his body like it was the last thing on earth that was going to make her problems of a slight romantic gesture go away, her perfectly manicured nails digging onto his skin.
"I will find the nearest laboratory and pray to God there's an abundance of Promethium to douse you into," Wednesday hissed between clenched teeth. The tips of her fingers turned white as she paced back and forth, keeping Thing within sight, his body slumping from the lack of oxygen.
Thing repeatedly tapped on her thumb, his own nails scratching Wednesday's skin as a plead for mercy, his complexion turning white under Wednesday's firm grip. 'I'll help you! I'll help you,' he tapped, desperately.
Thing bounced to the floor after a suffocating release, extending his fingers out, noticing the young Addams' nails leaving faint imprints on his skin, even little cuts starting to form around them.
"Fine. I'll..." she stammered, her words drawing out as if she was disgusted by the mere thought and weighed down by hesitation, "I'll crochet a bouquet for y/n."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you opened your locker to see probably a hundred polaroids of you drop to the floor and a hand-written letter laying flat on the surface with dried flowers.
It was safe to conclude that you were either, a, being stalked or, b, someone was planning your death and this was just a cute little 'one day notice' from the murderer.
But you knew it was from Wednesday. No sane person that wasn't an Addams wont write their letters so terrifyingly romantic and then send it in blood with their favorite flower species being black dahlia and probably a hex written to curse all your past and future generations if you don't comply.
You can handle a fuck ton of flowers to save a closing flower shop and a shit ton of chocolates to outdo Willy Wonka's own chocolate factory, but you definitely can not handle a possible fight between Wednesday Addams.
And that's why you're here now, at Wednesday's doorstep, your hand trembling against the doorknob, and your feet ready to bolt out of Nevermore and probably book a flight to whatever country you needed to escape her wrath.
"Wednesday, look, I don't know what I did to you or your family but I'm really so so so sorry!" You rambled, eyes closed as your voice trembled, turning the door just slightly until it fully opened.
The creak of the door echoed throughout the room and your mind, like it was playing tricks with you or something to amp up your fear.
You opened your eyes to find not a thousand knives surrounding you and a bomb threat immediately attached to a chair but rather Wednesday standing there with something wrapped around her fingers. Her expression was unreadable unlike the many times it wasn't to you.
"What are you apologizing for?" she finally spoke, her voice monotone as she walked up to you. She looked... almost nervous? You didn't know if it was a ruse or she was actually nervous.
"I... I don't know exactly," you stammered, "I just thought, you know, I might've done something to upset you, and I really didn't mean to."
Wednesday's eyebrows arched slightly, a crease forming in her forehead.
"Okay, look, if someone writes 'meet me where satan sits or I will cover your flesh in slits' in, what seems to be, their blood I can't really help it but apologize and be so damn terrified you know?!'"
Wednesday's expression softened slightly at your explanation, "Ah, yes, I can see how that might be… alarming to most people like you."
She held out what she had been clutching in her fingers, a crocheted small bouquet of flowers all tied together by a ribbon "I do sincerely apologize for the… slightly murderous approach." Wednesday Addams, apologizing? "I intended it a like to a gesture of affection people seem to be giving out these days, though I may have overdone it."
What is happening to the world?
You blinked. Blinked more than a hundred of times now ever since you entered the room. You were unsure if you were dreaming or Wednesday Addams was actually showing the tiniest bit of softness towards you. On valentines.
Mouth hung open, you took the bouquet from her hands, your skin grazing hers as she lowered her arms back to her sides. You knew Wednesday wouldn't be the one to crochet, let alone to any of this, but there was so much detail and effort put into the bouquet, it's hard to believe she did it all alone.
"Thank… thank you, Wends!" You smiled, beaming even, "kinda unexpected of you." You turned the bouquet over in your hands, examining every thread, "didn't know you were joining in this Valentines."
This would be fine. Just fine. Just two friends greeting eachother on Valentines, and giving flowers to them.
If you didn't have the biggest crush on Wednesday Addams yet.
You couldn't contain the grin that spread across your face till you actually looked at the bouquet in your hands, gripping it with such excitement. It was real. This moment was real, and you weren't stuck in a daydream you're having in class. This was actually happening.
"Why'd you do all of this?"
You looked at Wednesday who seemed to have her own confused expression, as if you caught her off guard.
"I don't... I don't know."
Maybe you'd take a risk after all this valentines.
You took a step forward, letting the bouquet drop to the ground where Thing was standing the whole time, assuming a companion of some sorts for Wednesday.
"Do you allow me to touch you?"
She nodded, you inched a little closer.
"Allow me to hold you?"
She nodded, her eyes furrowing and her body almost hesitating, you hold her as if she was something fragile given to you.
"Allow me to talk to you as such?"
She nodded, you whispered to her. Your tone was soft, yet it was filled with hesitation and fear of being pushed away.
"Allow me to hold your hand?"
She nodded, you reached out for her hand, intertwining your fingers with her own as if it was your own soul you were protecting from ivy.
"Allow me to say something I never think I'd say?"
She nodded, you tightened your grip on her, letting your thumb graze over her cold skin in contrast of your warmth.
"Allow me to love you so, so, dearly?"
She nodded, slowly. It wasn't a question, it was something more than that. An oath.
"And for you to love me back?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible if the both of you weren't so close enough already.
With your trembling hands holding Wednesday's palm, you cupped her face gently.
You allowed your eyes to cross every feature she had, your fingertips memorizing every contour of her face, allow them to be recognized to only you who seemed invested and let the world overlook her beauty, her soul through her dark eyes. As if you were seeing true beauty for the first time.
"May I?"
She was hesitating, she is hesitating. And, fuck, do you want to curse yourself for that.
"It doesn't have to be a kiss on the lips, Wednesday," you murmured softly, letting your words carry out with your actions, "We can take it slow at your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with, I'll do it."
You expected her to pull away, to maintain her usual stoic expression and distance. Yet, she didn't.
She leaned into your touch, her head finding a comfortable spot on your neck. Letting her eyes close, her breath going to your ears like a soft melody on a guitar, your worries slowly going away.
You stood there, holding Wednesday in an embrace you sure you wouldn't let go even if there was a force stretching you apart. Her heartbeat against yours, her arms slowly reciprocating the tightening grip you had on her, the faint smile that slowly graced her ever cold lips, it was nothing yet it was everything.
"I tolerate you." She muttered, her voice mumbled by your shirt yet somehow you heard everything.
A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, your other hand going above her head as you ran your fingers through her hair, "I tolerate you too, Wednesday."
It truly was a horrid day.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
cupid sucks so why not do the job for them?
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.0k
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You hear a door swing open, then a earsplitting slam echoed throughout the whole apartment, hell it even drowned the scream of some horror movie you were watching. Sounds of grumbling and loud stomping made it's way to you, an eerie aura you felt behind your back.
It's concerning how you almost immediately know it's Tara Carpenter.
"Welcome back I guess?" you greeted, a crease in your eyebrows as you turned to look at her, her back being the only thing you see. The potato chips you were about to eat stuck in the air for a moment of time.
The hell is that?
"Looks like cupid shot the wrong person," you chuckled, leaping over the couch to tug at a small arrow lodged behind her, a pop being heard as it came loose. "Why do you have this in your back?"
You hear Tara groan for the millionth time ever since she darkened her own doorstep, "Stupid fucks trying to get me into valentines when I'm clearly stressed about exams!" She turned around, snatching the arrow from your hands and snapping it in half without hesitation.
You flinched, "Aren't your exams not until March?" You jumped back into the couch, the soft cushion dipping as you laid down, your head turning back to the horror movie.
"Ugh, Tara, just tell her the truth," Mindy approached both of you from the kitchen, making her way to the you. "Have a little mercy and don't subject y/n to your lame excuses." She crossed her arms.
"What truth?" You sat up almost immediately, your head snapping to look at Tara with horrified eyes. "Is there something you've been keeping from me, Tara!? I thought we were best friends!" you shrieked.
Tara rolled her eyes, reaching out for your forehead and tipping it back down to the couch, "Dramatic."
Mindy excused herself, your legs retracting as you gave her space to sit beside you, "She's a little miserable because of a certain someone not giving her any valentines gift."
"Oh my God."
"You have a crush!?" You screamed. Almost happy, but then again, you were not. Definitely not happy. When the hell did this happen!?
"Please," Tara groaned, her eyes wrinkling as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "don't call it a crush."
"What the hell am I supposed to call it then?"
"Call it someone I admire," she made her way across the couch, her arms gesturing the both of you to move, "A little."
You hear Mindy give out a little scoff and chuckle, "You've been screaming into your pillow for the past four months of crushing on them."
"Why am I only hearing about this now!?" You exclaimed, a little hurt, yes, or it was more than a little hurt–finding out that the not-really-love-of-your-life-but-she-is-kinda is in love with another person was the type of blow on valentines day that made you want to reach up in the sky and strangle cupid.
Tara sighed, "Because I don't want you teasing me, especially you."
"Then how come Mindy gets to know?" you questioned her, your head leaning back against the armchair while your legs were sprawled on Tara's lap. "It's Min-dy, Tara!"
"I bribed her into telling me," Mindy chimed in with a casual shrug.
You have nothing to do with it nor do you have any right to, but you couldn't help it but feel a tinge of jealousy. People have to feel that emotion some times, right? You were only human, and this was just one of those moments where you'd get jealous for a somehow valid thing.
I mean, you were there when Tara healed from all her scars, you were there when she finally really talked with Sam, you were there when she got accepted into her dream college and even threw a celebration, you were there for Tara through thick and thin, and you never missed a birthday or a special event she had ever since you met her.
To sum it up: you were there for everything! How could some guy, who probably didn't even try as hard as you did, get Tara to fall in love with them!?
Your eyes gazed down to the lower corner of the TV, no longer paying attention to Mia Goth's stunning performance. You've watched this movie a hundred of times if not more, it was one of your favorites that Tara introduced to you next to the Babadook, so it was always an opening for conversations with her.
Now you could only imagine Tara and that, whoever it was, sitting on the same damn couch and talking about some stupid damn conversation and you just have to deal with it.
But it was fine. Tara had someone, someone she truly cared about, and that was a good thing. You were fortunate enough to witness her happiness with that person and have them as a constant presence in her life without any danger, that was a plus.
"Who are they anyway?" you grumbled, the words slipping out almost involuntarily before you could catch yourself.
The couch shifted slightly, Tara and Mindy exchanging knowing glances as you eyed both of them.
"Oh my God," you whispered in horror, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach, trying to face the truth even if it was meant to kill you. "Is it Chad!?"
Tara's face contorted into pure disgust, more disgust than ever while Mindy burst into a hearty laughter, "that is one of the most vile and revolting thing you have ever said to me, what the actual fuck y/n!?"
"Oh, you are disgusting!" Mindy laughed, throwing her head back as Tara's constant "ew" and her laugh filled the room.
"So if it isn't Chad, then who is it!?" You exclaimed, a slight smile coming from your lips as you watched them both.
"No way you're serious." Mindy raised an eyebrow, jumping off the couch and walking to her own room in the apartment, "I'll let the two of you figure this out!" She called out before you hear the door slam shut.
The silence was deafening. More deafening than having noise cancelling headphones jammed into your ears 24/7; it can be relaxing but it also can be so damn nerveracking.
You and Tara were always joined at the hip, no matter the situation was, the both of you almost always seemed to know what was a good conversation for the two of you.
Yet nothing good crossed your mind at this moment. By nothing good you mean having Tara namedrop her crush and have your life crashing down before your eyes.
"It.. it doesn't matter who you love or who is that special someone for you." You stammered, your voice cracking just slightly, hoping Tara wouldn't notice. "I'm just happy you have someone you admire and someone thats so lovely you want to be with them forever." Your fists were clenched as you continued, a soft smile graced your lips, sure, but hurt overcame everything.
"So I really want to get to know the sad and poor victim who had cupid hit Tara Carpenter square in the back," you laugh, turning to her.
You were expecting Tara to just go all in and scream in the top of her lungs her own love of her life and that she doesn't like you (optional).
Instead, she shot you with the most confused and offended look ever as if you just cursed her whole family bloodline through the most foulest of witchcraft thats dated wayback the 15th century.
"Who..." she started, her eyebrows creasing and her face twisting as if she was so done with you, "who else could it be but you!?"
what.
what hte fuck?? is she seirlous??? whathwhawthwhatwhatwhatwhatwhattheactualfuckishappening.
It was safe to say that your world froze. The tilt of the earth became an even number, a fraction maybe, the globes gravitational force flipping and rotating, the world spinning yet it stops every few seconds while your brain tries to process what the fuck just came out of Tara's mouth.
"Me?" you echoed, pointing a hand at yourself, your voice barely a whisper at this point, "you're insane... You're actually crazy."
Tara's expression softened slightly as she turned her whole body to you, her legs crossing and her eyes staring dead center right at you. "I don't want to sit here and just pretend I'm fawning over some guy so that you'd be better off not knowing I love you." She explained, "and I don't want to watch you treat me like any other friend you have when all I ever wanted is to be more than that."
Your mind raced, what was she saying? It was valentines, right? It's February the 14th and not April 1st. Sure, you considered the possibility of Tara liking you, but it was just because one of those manifestation videos you kept seeing on your page and you were too delusional for your own good!
"You can't be serious..." You laughed, chuckled even, taking all of this as a joke, "me? You like like me? Of all people, you chose me?"
Tara crossed her arms, letting out an eye roll and a scoff, "Yes, you! Who else could it possibly be but you? Am I talking to you through them, is that what you think?"
You stayed silent, mouth hung open but words just decided that it wasn't a great time to spill out.
"I... I understand if you don't like me the same way," she started after a while, "I just thought it'd be a great idea to confess now rather than any other day so--"
Tara's words trailed off, voice shaky, and you couldn't bear the thought of letting her finish the sentence with her saying something so foolish. Without another word that came out of her mouth, you closed the distance between the both of you and leaned in, capturing her soft with yours.
You never knew how her lips could be so addicting until today.
She responded eagerly after processing for a bit, her hands finding their way to your waist as she pulled your closer while you raised your hands and cupped her cheeks.
You can feel yourself melting within her body. Her breath was warm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, a feeling that made you think you were everything to her as you felt a smile coming loose from her lips.
She tasted like her perfume, her scent, her chapstick, her clothes, her everything. Her lips were soft, welcoming, and lovely. Tara was everything beauty was under if not more.
The kiss was soft but it lasted longer than it should've. Her palm flat on your waist, only bringing you closer and closer, the heartbeat and rush you felt when your bodies were pressed together like glue, the way Tara's hands grabbed you so possessively as if she'd die if she ever looses another second on your lips, it was perfect. She was perfect.
People fall in love with everything, their first love was nature. You were the same with the majority, you fell in love with everything you see. Your first sunset and sunrise, the first butterfly you saw, your friends, even your first crush. Everything you caught with your very own eyes; you fell in love.
Yet, they weren't your first love. Tara was.
And even if you get to see her everyday, her presence gracing your eyes every time you breath, every time you come alive for another day, you always seem to fall in love with her again and again with no fail.
It only made you so obsessed with her soul.
Now, you finally get to kiss your first love on the day of hearts.
When you finally pulled away, you wished you hadn't.
You looked into Tara's eyes and she looked in yours as she brought her hands to her lips, touching it slightly.
"I never knew," she whispered, smiling.
"I never realized," you admitted, your voice equally as soft as hers while a smile reflected hers.
You would admit, Cupid sucks at their own game. So why not do it yourself?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
cheers to a broken heart
Pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.4k
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hhaaaapppyyy V day, bitches!"
Vada shouted across the heart-littered and Valentines-illed cafeteria, tray in her hands as she approached your table.
The 14th of February
The day where couples unfortunately couldn't get scolded by any passing teacher whenever they show any excessive public affection in the school.
Everyone was either singing a song to someone, couples weirdly somehow getting it on without a teacher scolding them, confessing their love to their crush and getting rejected (which was honestly Vada's favorite past time for Valentines), and everyone being in a lovesick haze that'll only last two days, give or take.
Nick dropped his food on his own tray, sprinkling off bread crumbs from his fingers as he looked up at Vada. "It's your birthday?"
"Vagina day?" You chewed on your food with your left cheek, leaving room for coherent sentences, "Seriously, Vada?"
"Okay, first of all," Vada sat down, her tray making a loud metallic slam as she sat in front if you, "you have to catch me on some next level shit to scream happy vagina day out loud." She held up her hand as she turned to it, "And second of all, come on Nick! We've been bestfriends for ages and you don't even know my birthday isn't until maybe a few months"
"If only I could forget, maybe my wallet wouldn't be in total wreck, and I wouldn't have the urge to start printing money."
Vada shot back, adjusting her chair, "Then who else is going to pay for my stuff on my birthday?"
"You?" Nick suggested, eyebrows knitting themselves together.
"Aren't you the joker?" Vada retorted, an innocent smile tugging on her lips while Nick playfully scowled
You only stared a them, giving a few huffs of a laugh here and there, your hand mindlessly toying with your food while your other arm rests on the table, holding up your slanted face.
You couldn't eat, you could only stare at it and maybe push some vegetables around to make it look like you're eating. You couldn't really be in the right mindset to eat, let alone have the energy to strike up a conversation not after what happened just a few hours ago.
"You good?" Vada looked up at you, concern tainting her face and voice as she stopped eating all together, "You don't really look good."
Nick raised his fork, pointing at you, "She broke up with her boyfriend."
"What!?"
It was wrong. Very, very wrong, but Vada couldn't help the smile that was fighting for dear life not to show.
Holy fuck, this was the best valentines gift ever!
Not that she was happy that you just ended an almost a year relationship with your partner that probably loved you dearly, she just... She just thinks she can love you 10 times as harder.
You put down your fork in defeat, covering you face in your hands, "I don't know what to do... It just—" you stammered, words faltering, "It just came out so suddenly when we were talking."
Vada raised an eyebrow, "you just don't break up with someone out of the blue on valentines. Come on, dude." She tried to sound emphatic, but she was covering her smile like the damn good friend she is.
"I know!" you exclaimed, "I know... I don't know." You picked up your fork once again, "I think I'm in love with someone new, maybe that's why I broke up with him."
Maybe she spoke too soon.
"Nick?" She turned to him, slowly, "Can you join me to get some food?"
Nick chewed, side-eying her, "Your tray isn't even half done—"
"Nick." She inhaled a little too hard, gripping his wrist, "For the love of fucking God, please."
Nick winced while nodding vigorously, "Alright, alright! I'm coming, damn." The both of you stood up, pushing back your chairs while Nick gestured for you to wait.
"Okay," Vada stood in line, glancing back at the table, "who do you think y/n is in love with!? I mean, yeah, we shouldn't probably pry, but Nick, you know better than anyone else that I would literally die for me to be her girlfriend and you know damn well how many sleepless nights I've stayed up to pray for her boyfriends downfall!"
Nick crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Are you actually getting food, or are we just—"
"Of course we're not getting food! I'll just get some water, now, answer my question."
"Vada," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I do not know. If I did, I probably would've told you my thoughts at this point. Y/n hasn't shown any interest in anybody."
Vada nodded, her hand resting on her chin as the line moved, "Yeah, I guess theres that. But y/n is so secretive at times!"
Nick sighed, grabbing Vada by the shoulders and excused people out of the way, "V, just ask her or maybe give her time. She's in a state of a break-up right now."
Vada and Nick returned to the table, Vada looking done as ever and Nick returning to eat his food.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was either Vada has gone insanely mad or she's just trying to do a friendly gesture by selling out every single flower and chocolate shop that Jericho has established and plans to give them all to you to cheer you up just a slight bit. And maybe let you see she was the one of you after all.
Friendly, maybe not so, but inane is on the mark. She just wants to make you happy!
It was already after class, an hour after to be precise, and she was waiting outside for you, phone in hand as she leaned against her car while a luggage—no—a semi-truck of bouquets and chocolates awaited for you in the back seat.
You exited the building, your own phone in your hand as you looked for Vada's bug-eyed car that she bought with her birthday money that Nick contributed atleast 70% of it, wind caught up in your hair as you finally see Vada in the distance, waving to you like she was just some idiot.
The very sight was a sight for sore eyes, endearing even. Her antics always brought a smile to your face at the end of the day, and her very person bringing unwanted butterflies in your stomach. But you wouldn't admit that. You wouldn't admit that Vada was the reason why you broke up with your boyfriend in the first place.
Vada's smile only widened more as you approached her, the small figure waving to you in the distance. You can practically feel her happiness. "I'm surprise you agreed so fast."
"Thought I needed some time to myself after a horrible breakup," you replied, walking over to the passenger seat right in the front while Vada got into the driver's seat.
"By time to myself do you mean time with the amazing and pretty cool Vada Cavell and her car?" She closed the door behind her, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she hooked her legs onto your lap once you were both seated.
You rolled your eyes playfully, letting out a slight scoff, "you're too insufferable for your own good."
Silence overtook her parked car, the outside wind being the only sounds that weren't drowned by the ringing in your ears, but it was the nice type of silence. It was the type of silence that made you feel like you were nothing, a spec of dust even, yet you were having the time of your life with the person you love the most beside you.
Your seat was adjusted to lay back while Vada leaned against the tinted windows with her legs sprawled on top of your lap, probably smoking a joint by the faint smell of weed and ashes filling her car.
You could feel her legs moving, her body sitting up and digging for something in her pockets.
"Vada, you know that I—"
"You don't smoke, yes," Vada's voice, surprisingly low and soft, cut you off. "I get that, I really, really do, and I am all for not breaking your lungs ahead of time." She pulled out a plastic ziplock bag that contained something… a bit more colorful than the regular blunts you'd see.
"…Buuuut," she continued, unlocking the zipper and pulling out the makeshift blunt by her two fingers, "I got you this blunt made up of fruit roll-ups! The inside of it is popping candy. Courtesy of yours truly." She grinned, passing you the candy, "Can't really puff, puff, pass that but it's something you gotta try."
"You're fucking insane, V," you laughed as you shook your head, taking the candy from her hands and putting it against your lips, "it's delicious anyway."
She shrugged, leaning back yet again, "told you so."
It didn't take long for the candy to disappear from your fingers almost immediately, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue, the candy still somehow popping in your ears.
"How do you cut a sandwhich, horizontally or diagonally?" Vada broke the profounding silence, exhaling a puff of smoke as she took the blunt off her lips.
You sat up immediately, a lift in your eyebrows as you looked at her with a concerned grin, "Oh, you are high high."
"Don't overthink it," She sat up, tapping off the ash into the nearby tray beside her floor console, remnants of smoke trailing upwards as she discarded the cig entirely, "Just say whatever comes to your mind."
She intertwined her legs with yours as you both sat up, her arms coming to her knees as she repeated, "Horizontally or diagonally?"
"Horizontally, of course, why would I—"
"Coke or pepsi?"
"Coke."
"Do you pour cereal or milk first?"
"Cereal."
"Why did you break up with your boyfriend?"
"Because I'm in love with you."
"Oh." Shit.
Your eyes widened, if only you were quick to shut your brain and mouth out, or maybe better yet, be both deaf and blind.
It was an understatement to say that panic replaced all your blood cells with the word itself, wishing so damn desperately to take back your words as if it would erase this moment in time and create a new one.
"Oh fuck," you whispered, your other hand ready to completely buck out of her car and sprint to no mans land, or maybe kill yourself. That seemed like the better option out of the others.
"Vada I—" You stammered. The car definitely felt smaller, heavier even. Like it was going to implode within a second. Your lips slightly parted as if you were about to say something, wanted to say something, but nothing came.
"Okay, look—" she gulped, raising her hands, the usual animated gesture while she explained herself.
"I'm… sad? Okay, not sad, that's the truth, you deserve to know it. But!" She exclaimed,, words coming out in a rush, "That's… okay? Not okay for you or for him but it's—" She paused to take a deep breath before continuing, taking your hand with hers, "I finally get to do something I've wanted to do for a very long time without some kind of big consequence."
Vada's fingers traced patterns on the back of your hand, a silent way of asking for permission, a way that made you felt important to the point you almost missed the glint in her soft eyes and a tug on her mouth.
She reached out and gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head a bit, the simple warmth from her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your breath catching in your throat as you looked at her with pure eyes, listening.
"Would it be okay?" She whispered, hesitance evident in her voice, "would it be alright if I…"
Before she could even finish her sentence, you brought your hand up to hers flat on your cheek. With a gentle tug, you pulled her closer with your free arm, the softness of her lips melting against yours as you met them in a gentle kiss.
Both of your hands move over to her shoulders, messaging them slightly as you welcomed Vada's tongue into your mouth, your body tensing almost immediately yet softening when she removed her hands from your face and dragged them down to your waist, pulling you impossibly close to her.
Her lips were gentle, soft, and tender, smiling under yours. She tasted like chapstick mixed with cigarettes, a faint smell of the joint she smoked yet she still smelled so enchanting. You don't know how she does it.
You almost whined when Vada pulled away, familiar eyes staring right back at you. But they looked new. It was filled with love, endearment even, or maybe fondness.
She never looked more beautiful.
It only took a minute of silence before Vada realized what happened. "Are we—are we girlfriends? Well, we just kissed, I mean, I know that, but are we girlfriends girlfriends? I never had a girlfriend before, have you? I mean I guess you did but never a girlfriend. Ohmygod, am I your first girlfriend, holy fuck this really means—"
You laughed before planting a simple kiss on her lips, "Vada, as much as I love your rambling, please don't ruin this moment." You cupped her cheeks, your eyes tracing every single feature she carried.
"Yeah," she nodded, another smile on her mouth, "yeah." She laughed as she shook her head.
"Wait," She stopped you, her hands doing a stop gesture, "but this just technically means that I'm just a rebound? Oh, God, I don't wanna be known as that girl who got with you just hours after you broke up with your boyfriend! What if everyone flames me for it!? Y/n, I love you but wouldn't this ruin your reputation too!? What if they say you cheated on your boyfriend, what if—"
You rolled her eyes and kissed her yet again, "I don't think having a fuck ton of chocolates and flowers stuck inside the backseat of your car and having me in the passenger seat would help your thinking."
"That doesn't really help my situation." She tilted her head, eyebrows creasing.
"I'm saying that we'll keep it hidden, even if you'd be one itch away from telling everyone we're together."
"I wont tell, I promise!" Vada saluted, she always does that. Even before a pinky promise, a salute is always needed.
Not that you didn't feel bad about breaking up with your boyfriend out of the blue, it's just a simple problem that'll lead to a celebration for a broken heart.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a/n: this was long overdue, sorry i posted it so late!! just seemed like writers block missed me a little bit too much.
553 notes · View notes