#taking a step back has really given me the push that I needed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

little-diable · 7 months ago

Text

Cocky Tornado Wrangler – Tyler Owens (smut)

Finally watching Twisters tonight. My poor aunt who has to listen to me gush about our husband. Thank you so much for the love on my other Tyler fic, I hope y'all will love this just as much. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: There are many things (y/n) would prefer to having to share a room with the man she hates. But does she really hate him? Or will the bed they share be enough to push them closer together?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, enemies to lovers, lots of teasing

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.8k words)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice dripped with exhaustion, eyes tired and ready to flutter shut any moment now. But fuck, she couldn’t give in just yet, had to fight yet another battle with the self proclaimed tornado wrangler who was staring down at her with his signature smirk glued to his lips.

The smirk he wore in every video of his. Videos she watched whenever they were uploaded to his channel. Not that she’d ever tell Tyler that. And god forbid he’d ever stumble upon the saved favourites she watched in moments where she needed distraction from everything but him.

“Well, seems like your prayers were answered, pretty. An EF4 and now we get to share a room, certainly feels like we’re even closer to heaven now, doesn’t it?” Tyler’s hand found her waist to give it a soft squeeze before he gently pushed her further into the motel room. It had been an exhausting day, filled with adrenaline highs as they chased tornadoes until the late evening. Even though they had been mesmerised by the beautiful disaster, they were now forced to stay in one of the close towns, cut off from the highway heading home.

“I can take the couch.” She had her eyes set on the rather worn out couch which had been pushed against one of the walls that were painted in a faded out pink colour. The whole room made her feel like she was back at her grandparents home, letting an almost melancholic feeling settle in the pit of her stomach.

“You sure you don’t wanna share? The bed’s big enough, or I could take the couch.” Tyler hung up his still wet hat before placing his bag down on the bed. (Y/n) watched him take in the room, giving her a few seconds to curse him for wearing a white shirt that now clung to his muscular upper body. His back muscles were shining through the wet fabric, letting her get lost in the thoughts of how it must feel to brush her nails along his soft skin. Thoughts that shot heat straight down to her core, knowing that she’d have to take care of that cursed longing in the shower.

“In your dreams, Owens, and we both know you won’t fit on that couch.” His raspy laugh left her grinning, unable to stop her tired face from reacting to the man (y/n) claimed she hated and yet needed to feel close at any given chance.

“Trust me, baby, my dreams are all about sharing a bed with you and so much more.” With a wink thrown her way, Tyler plopped down on the bed. He studied her for a moment, taking in her wet frame while his tongue kissed his teeth and his muscular arms were locked behind his head. She needed to get out of here, needed to find shelter in the warm shower before her body would do something she couldn’t stop it from doing.

“I’ll grab a quick shower.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for his reply, darting for the bathroom that was just big enough for her to let go of a deep breath.

She hated that she had dreamt of moments like these, wondering how it may play out with Tyler by her side, having to share a bed while the world outside was ending. And all they’d have eyes for would be one another, no matter how many tornadoes called for them.

Within seconds, (y/n) had shuffled out of her wet clothes only to step into the small shower. She couldn’t stop her soft moan from leaving her as the warm water cascaded down her back as if it were hugging her. The silence she was now offered forced her thoughts back to the longing she couldn’t shake, the need to take care of the pulsing between her thighs that grew stronger with every passing moment.

Her fingers moved quickly, knowing that she didn’t have much time before Tyler would disturb her peace, desperate for a shower himself. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her fingers circle her pulsing bundle, imaging Tyler’s fingers instead of her own.

Would he touch her with the same kind of urgency? Would he draw the same moans from her she oh so desperately wanted to give in to? No, he wouldn’t. He’d make her feel things she had never felt before, clashing through her like a tornado stronger than she had ever been fortunate enough to study. Tyler Owens was her own personal disaster and she was close to letting him rip her off her feet, close to allowing him to have his way with her without being able to protest.

“Fuck,” the word rolled off her tongue all too quickly, knowing that she was already close to giving in to her high. (Y/n) didn’t pay the ache in her forearm any mind, didn’t worry about the way her fingers begged her to move slower, all she was focused on were her thoughts that painted a picture of Tyler and the way he’d touch her.

And with her head rolled back and her lips tightly pressed together, she came. (Y/n) let her orgasm wash through her, rubbing her pulsing bundle a few more times before her tired body found its way out of the shower.

It took her a second to realise that she hadn’t taken any clean clothes with her, drawing yet another exhausted groan from her. Carefully, she opened the door, hiding behind her towel while her eyes found Tyler’s frame. No longer was he wearing his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her eyes which tried to burn every inch of his naked skin into her mind.

“Tyler,” her soft voice drew his eyes from his phone. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

She expected a snarky comment, anything to tease her and rile her up some more, but Tyler stayed quiet, eyes focused on the parts of her body that weren’t covered by the door or her towel. (Y/n) could have sworn that he had swallowed heavily first before rising to his feet to reach for his bag. His eyes stayed glued to her while he reached a shirt out for her to take, letting his fingers brush against hers for a moment.

It was cheesy almost, the buzz of lighting striking her at the small contact. A touch so small and yet so significant, her mind would probably think of it for days and nights to come.

With a small “thank you” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) stepped back into the bathroom to put on the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to cover her panties. Trembling legs carried her back into the room, not daring to look at Tyler, whose eyes she felt on her frame. No words were spoken between them as he pushed past her into the bathroom, allowing (y/n) to deeply exhale the second she was left alone once again.

……

The moments after Tyler had returned from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers that clung to his body just as tightly as his wet shirt had, had been filled with a tight atmosphere. Barely any words had been shared between them, not as she had made herself comfortable on the couch, not as he had turned off the light while stretching out on the bed.

She had turned her back to him to stop her eyes from wandering, knowing that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when he was so close to her. Not when she heard his uneven breaths that told her he was still awake. Not when she could easily move closer to feel him pressed against her.

What was he thinking of? Was he still riled up by today’s chase? Or was he also thinking of those moments where he had passed his shirt to her?

Even though she begged her body to stay calm, to not move back towards him, she lost the fight within seconds. Her front was turned towards him, letting her eyes rest on the parts of his body that weren’t hidden by the blanket, making her awfully aware of how close he was to her.

This was unusual for them, quiet moments where neither spoke, where no teasing or bickering could be heard. Nothing but the breaths both let go of while he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and she wasn't strong enough to look away from him just yet.

“I can feel you staring, pretty.” Tyler rolled his head towards her, eyes meeting (y/n)’s like lightning striking a tree, buzzing straight through it to set it ablaze. “What’s going on in that confusing mind of yours?”

“Just because you’re not smart enough to understand my thoughts it doesn’t mean my mind’s confusing.” The words had left her all too quickly, drawing a gritty laugh from Tyler. A sound she loved hearing, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. A sound that left her smiling the second her ears were fortunate enough to hear it.

“You wound me. I’d say we’re a pretty good team when it comes to understanding your plans.” Heat spread through every part of her body, a heat she was all too used to by now but still didn’t know how to work with. She rolled her eyes at Tyler before refocusing on his handsome features, taking in every part of the face she knew like the back of her hand.

Her breath hitched in her chest as he lifted the blanket, patting the spot next to him, “Come up here, I don’t need you complaining about back pain tomorrow.”

(Y/n)’s body moved without holding back, crawling to the spot next to him as if she had done this numerous times before. It felt awfully right to lay next to him, to feel Tyler’s arm slowly wrap around her middle to cage her against his chest.

“Do you remember the first time we chased together?” She tried to stop her hand from moving as he spoke, she really did. But yet (y/n) miserably failed, unable to keep away from his soft skin any longer, needing to feel it beneath her wandering fingers as she traced slow patterns on the skin of his warm chest.

“I wanted to break your nose that day, god, you were even cockier back then. Do you still think people instantly recognise you when you meet them?” He shook his head with a smirk playing on his lips, tightening his grip on (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. That day was replaying in her mind every now and then, remembering how he had misjudged her for a fangirl, expecting her to almost faint when shaking his hand. And yet she hadn’t known much about him, had never watched any of his videos before that day. Something Tyler hadn’t taken as lightly as he should have, turning into the cocky asshole she had cursed for the past months.

“I no longer care about that, only worry about impressing you, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let his eyes flicker back to the ceiling. His sharp jawline was exposed to her wandering eyes, making (y/n) awfully aware of how easily she could kiss him right now. It took everything in her not to move, to hold still as her heart picked up its beat. Whatever it was that had urged her on to fight against him these past months, it was now gone, leaving her unable to fight back and in need of something more.

“We both know that’s a lie, Owens. All you worry about is tornadoes and busty women who ask you to sign their cleavages.” Her laugh was mixed with his as he let his gaze find hers again while squeezing her side. She fought against his grip, hating that he had found her most ticklish spot that made her toss and turn against him. Tyler seemed to enjoy the sight, letting his fingers find the spot again while shifting her around to hover over (y/n). With one hand pressed to the pillow and his knees caging in her right thigh, he left her no room to move away from him.

“Do I hear jealousy?” His eyes wandered over her face, focusing on her lips as she fought against the need to look away. “You know there’s no need to be jealous, pretty. All you gotta do is give in and stop fighting our bond.”

A sharp reply was burning on her tongue, and yet her body managed to win the fight, letting her fingers find the back of Tyler’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. He instantly replied to the touch, adding more pressure to the kiss with his body shuffling closer. It felt as if they were burning, tied together like two matches setting a petrol station ablaze, ready to alight the darkening night.

With every swipe of his tongue, with every moan rumbling through them, it set in further that this was finally happening, that they were finally crossing that last bridge. No longer was she set on fighting it, purely focused on Tyler’s touch and the need to feel him as close as humanly possible.

“Talk to me, baby, what do you want?” Her mind was torn between the kisses they kept sharing and the feeling of him growing against her thigh, telling (y/n) that he needed and wanted this as much as she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, letting her nails scratch his skin with just enough pressure to leave him tingling in excitement.

“Everything, I want all of you, Tyler.” Hours ago she would have cursed herself for giving in so easily, for admitting that insatiable hunger she had felt for months now. But she no longer found it in herself to care, could no longer shy away from having whatever Tyler was about to offer her. Her words drew a groan from the tall tornado wrangler who kissed his way down her throat while shifting his weight onto his knees. They held eye contact as his hands disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was wearing, finding their way straight to her chest.

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me, every part of you.” His praises sank in like a ship hitting the ocean ground, sinking lower with every passing second, forever resting on the ground like the praises he spoke to her. Forever etched into her mind. Forever remembering the way they made her feel lightheaded and giddy.

Urgently he pulled the shirt over her head, set on exposing her body to his hungry eyes. Tyler let go of another groan as he looked down at her, making a silent promise that he’d have to take a picture of her in that position one of these days. He dipped his head down to suck on her nipples, making her moan for him while she spread her thighs for him. His core met hers, leaving both breathless as his clothed cock rubbed against her clothed heat – a feeling so intense, it only urged Tyler on to move further down her body.

“Will you let me taste you, pretty?” Only a breathless “Please” left (y/n), drawing a smirk to his lips. She watched his eyes light up as he pushed her panties down her legs, looking like he was marvelling at art – art so mesmerising he couldn’t stop staring.

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Those were the last words Tyler spoke before his tongue brushed her folds, drawing a moan from the both of them. His arms wove their way around her thighs, keeping her pressed to him as he ate her out like a starving man, high on her taste and the sounds she made for him.

Nothing but moans managed to leave (y/n), getting lost in the feeling of Tyler sucking on her pulsing bundle, while he pushed two fingers into her – doing just what she had imagined him doing in the shower a while ago. He instantly managed to find that spot that made her see stars as he pressed down on it with his fingers, forcing (y/n) to choke on her sounds.

“Oh god, Tyler,” he chuckled against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through every part of her. From the corner of his eyes he could see her fist the covers with her free hand, the one that wasn’t buried in his hair, telling him that she was already close. And yet Tyler knew that he’d pull away soon, wanting to feel her cum around his cock like he had imagined her doing the past months.

Tyler had worked hard for her attention, knowing that he had fucked it up the first time they had met. She had instantly managed to push him off his high horse, bruising his ego with her sharp words he could still recite today. And yet it had only made him desperate for more, set on pulling her closer like no other woman before her.

“I could die a happy death between your thighs, pretty, but I need to fuck you now.” The dazy look she shot him made him feel proud, knowing that she had been about to cum on his tongue. She didn’t reply, at least not with words, with nothing but a whine did she pull him towards her for another kiss. He shuffled out of his boxers, freeing his twitching cock with a few movements.

“Let me grab a condom.” He left her side for a moment, allowing (y/n) to sort through her thoughts which were all over the place. And yet she couldn’t carry about anything but the need to feel him buried inside of her, knowing that once she knew what it feels like to have him so close, she’d never be able to let him go again. A thought that left her torn between excitement and anxiety, unsure what was awaiting them.

“Do you still want this? We don’t have to do this if you’re unsure, (y/n).” Tyler’s whispers ripped her out of her spiralling thoughts. She shook her head at him before pulling back in, focused on his handsome face, mustering every spot she could blindly find.

“I want this, want you.” That’s all he needed to hear before aligning himself with her heat and slowly pushing into her. With his forehead pressed against hers, both needed a moment to adjust, not expecting to feel this, unable to put the sensation into any words that would make sense to their minds. It felt like they had been made for one another, made solemnly for this moment that felt as if the world had spinning, thrown off its path.

“Move, please, Ty’.” He instantly gave in, pulling out of her only to push in with more strength. Their bodies met with every ferocious thrust, sending bolts of electricity down her spine. She arched her back off the mattress, needing to be even closer to him while he kept burying himself inside of her.

Blood rushed in her ears, drowning everything out but the sounds Tyler made, sounds so raspy and deep she feared it was another tornado growing in the distance, guttural sounds which left her walls fluttering around his cock. Her fingernails scratched at his shoulder, set on leaving red marks that wouldn’t fade for days, claiming him in the most primal way she could come up with at that moment.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you like that for the rest of my life.” The words roll off his tongue just like that. There was no way he could stop them from leaving him. And for the first time in minutes she finds herself ripped out of her state, staring up at him with wide eyes. But Tyler doesn’t say another word, all he does is study her while fucking her closer to the edge.

“Do you mean that?” She struggled to speak, needing to ground herself before choking on her words. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as he nodded his head while watching a smile grow on her slightly swollen lips. “Good, I don’t want you to let me go again, Owens.”

He took the words as a challenge, adding even more pressure to his thrusts to throw (y/n) back into her dazed state. With his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, he knew that it was only a matter of moments before she’d cum around his cock, allowing him to take in the most beautiful sight he’d ever be fortunate enough to see.

His name left (y/n) one last time before falling off the edge. His hips kept meeting hers, fucking her through her high while feeling his own crawling closer. She clung to him, murmuring his name like her own personal mantra as he followed her, letting go with a groan she’d forever remember.

It took both a moment to move again, for him to pull out of her and to get rid of the condom and for her to slightly shift around on the mattress, watching his every move with her weight balanced on her forearms. Tyler found his way back to her within seconds, hovering over her to press another kiss to the lips he’d never get tired of kissing.

“Are you okay?” His whispers left (y/n) grinning, nodding against his lips while another wave of euphoria swapped through her.

“More than.” Unspoken feelings were hanging heavily in the air, knowing that both would have to address them rather soon, but all they did was look at one another, marvelling at the person they never wanted to let go of again. “Thank you for this.”

“Nothing to thank me for, pretty. And hell, I’m not even close to being finished with you tonight.”

#Tyler Owens smut #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens imagine #Glen Powell smut #Glen Powell imagine #twisters

2K notes · View notes

covenofagatha · 3 months ago

Text

Nicky's mom has got it going on (Part 4)

Word count: 3700

Warnings: pool sex, fingering, vibrating underwear, almost getting caught, think that's it

A/N: guys i finally wrote it omg the day has arrived

It’s been a week since the Halloween party, a week since your best friend’s mom fucked your brains out.

You wish you could say that you regretted it, but that would be a lie.

Yet every time you hang out with Nicky, you feel your heart squeeze. It would kill him if he found out, and you knew that you would never be able to tell him.

But your thoughts still found their way back to the older woman, the way her fingers felt curling inside you, the way she tasted when she was riding your face.

You weren’t sure when the next time you were going to see her was. School is picking up as you were going into Thanksgiving break soon, and you know Nicky is feeling the stress too.

But the next Saturday, the weather is lovely and Nicky invites you over for a pool day at his house. It’s the first time the New Jersey winter has climbed into the 70s, and you’re both determined to make the most of it.

And you’ll get to see Agatha again.

The thought makes your stomach twist and turn, both with nerves and excitement.

She had dragged you back upstairs after you made that quip about your lover being just ‘alright’ to Nicky and she had put you in your place.

Three orgasms later, she had finally let you leave the room to go back downstairs to the party, but after all the guests left and her son had gone to bed, she came into the guest room so you could return the favor.

The next morning, she was gone from the bed by the time you’d woken up and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed, even though you obviously knew she couldn’t stay. It was risky regardless, having sex with your best friend’s mom with him right down the hall, so there was no need to push it.

And when you had gone downstairs, Nicky was already there, laughing at your disheveled state. Agatha had given you a heated glance, but that had been it.

That was the last time you’d spoken to her.

And now you’re going swimming at their house, where Agatha may or may not be there.

You hope she will, but you do know that she might be working.

Just in case, you put on one of your most flattering bikinis, a purple number that leaves little to the imagination.

It’s a dangerous game to play, especially since Nicky will be there, but you miss the older woman. And you don’t really know where things stand with her, so you figure this will be a great way to find out.

You throw a towel into a bag with some sunscreen and drive over to their house, your heart rate picking up as you get closer.

Nicky opens the door.

“Hey!” He exclaims. “Ready for the first pool day since summer?”

You step into the house, eyes peeled for his mom. “You know it. It’s been too long. I’ve missed the sun.”

No sign of her. You try your best not to feel too down; you knew her working would be a possibility. But the fresh warm air on their back patio makes you temporarily forget about the older woman and you take a deep breath.

Nicky disturbs your moment of peace by cannonballing into the pool, splashing you with water. You glare at him, pretending to be mad, before quickly stripping off your clothes and jumping in as well.

The two of you play around for what seems like forever, and you’ve missed having this much fun with your best friend. With school and work, it seems like the two of you haven’t just hung out in a while, and this was a desperately needed break from all that stress.

“Finally warm enough for a swim, hm?” You hear a voice ring out from the deck. You whirl around to see Agatha Harkness standing there, regal as ever. She makes your mouth run dry when her eyes shift to you, a brow raising ever slightly at the sight of you in the swim suit.

“Wanna join?” Nicky asks and playfully flicks water at his mom. She gasps with mock outrage and then laughs.

“Give me a second to go put on my suit. As long as y/n doesn’t mind if I hop in?” She turns her full attention to you, expectantly waiting for an answer, but your brain has short-circuited at the thought of her in a swimsuit.

“Oh, yeah, no, that would be fine,” you stammer out and she smirks knowingly. When she goes back inside, Nicky douses your face with water.

“Dude, what is going on between you and my mom?” He asks, and you choke, spiraling into a coughing fit.

You’re still struggling to breathe, but you force out: “What do you mean?” Panic grips your heart and you’re so afraid of what he’s going to say next.

“Like, you know, you’re always turning red around her and stuff. Oh my god, do you think she’s hot?” He whispers, eyes widening.

“What?” You snap, protests locked and loaded on your tongue, but he just laughs.

“You’re not the first person to think she’s a MILF. I don’t think she’s into girls though,” he says, fake sadness in his voice, and you almost choke again.

If only he knew.

She sure seemed into girls when her fingers and tongue were buried in your cunt a week ago.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you say hastily and duck underwater to hide your burning cheeks.

When you resurface for air, Agatha is standing there on the deck wearing a one-piece black suit with a low cut revealing quite an eyeful of her magnificent cleavage. You have to clench your teeth together tightly when she gives you a wink before walking down the steps into the water. She lets out an exaggerated moan, surely just to mess with you, at the feel and you have to bite back a whimper at the sound.

She gets all the way to the ground before she pauses. “Shoot, I was going to bring out some lemonade for everyone. Nicky, would you be a dear and go get it? Maybe some snacks too?”

Nicky, ever the mama’s boy, obeys without hesitation. He jumps out of the pool, grabs his towel, and hurries into the house.

Agatha immediately paces on you and you back up until your back hits the wall facing the door, feeling a spark in your stomach at the glint in her eye.

“Hey,” she whispers when she’s a hair away from you and you can’t stop from looking down at her lips.

Her hands come to grasp onto your bare waist and you gasp. “Hi,” you croak, your body already leaning into her touch that you’ve sorely missed this week. She pulls you by your hips into a kiss that you quickly pull away from (after giving in for a second or two, of course). “Nicky could come back at any minute,” you hiss and she just chuckles.

“You didn’t seem too concerned with my son catching us the other night with how loud you were moaning my name,” she teases, dropping her head down to press her lips against the chlorinated skin on your neck. You shudder at the feeling and your head drops back slightly.

The feeling in your belly stirs when she fits a thigh between your legs. “Agatha,” you whimper and slowly roll your hips against the firm muscle. Your hands come up to trace her biceps and she smirks. She presses harder and your lips part, but then she steps back and removes her leg.

“Nicky could come back at any minute,” she throws your words back in your face and you groan.

You chew on your lip and think about it. Pouring lemonade and getting snacks won’t take very long, so it would be better to be careful.

But like she said, that hasn’t stopped either of you before. So you seductively turn around, rest your arms on the deck, and tilt your head over your shoulder while you sway your ass back and forth.

She chuckles darkly and in an instant, her front is against your back and her hand dips down around your body to play with the edge of your bottoms.

“Are you sure you want to play this game, sweetheart?” She asks, voice low in your ear, and you nod eagerly. Her fingers crawl inside your suit and she finds your clit immediately, rubbing small circles around it.

Your head falls back against hers as you let out a small noise. You’ve missed her hands on you so much.

She continues her administrations, dipping a finger down every so often to collect wetness from your pussy. Even in the water, she can feel how turned on you’ve become and her teeth graze your earlobe. She keeps drawing out small gasps from your mouth with her movements and she finally has enough of her teasing and slides her middle finger into you.

“God, Agatha,” you groan, grinding your hips to get her deeper.

She tuts. “What was that?”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth. “Fuck, Mommy, please, I need more.” She gives a sound of approval and slides another finger in, curling them perfectly.

She’s panting open-mouthed against your neck, fucking her two fingers into you so well, when all of a sudden, the sliding glass door opens. Agatha and you both freeze, and your heart pounds.

“Hey, mom,” Nicky calls, walking out while reading the label on a box of crackers. Agatha gives you a quick thrust with her fingers and you bite your lip before you give yourselves away. “Do you think these are okay? The expiration date was–” He finally looks up to find his mom pressing his best friend against the pool wall. “–what are you guys doing?”

You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“Her swimsuit top was getting loose so I was just helping her tie it tighter,” Agatha says behind you, stroking your clit with her thumb, and you tense. You’re not sure you’ve breathed since Nicky walked out. Thankfully, from the way you’re angled and with how far away Nicky is standing, he can’t see Agatha’s hand down the front of your suit.

He seems to buy it though. “So crackers or no crackers?”

And you’re finally able to exhale. You can feel the tension literally seep out of your body.

But Agatha shifts forward so think about it, which forces her fingers in deeper, and you clamp your teeth down so hard on your tongue that you taste blood.

“You know, I’m getting hungrier, why don’t we make something–” But she cuts off in a gasp, because in the middle of her sentence, you clench your walls around her as payback. “For lunch?” She finishes weakly, but Nicky nods in agreement, none the wiser. “So we’ll get out and get dressed, yeah?” She asks you, and you catch her eye and give your hips a tiny roll. She gives you a warning look and the corners of your mouth tug into a smirk.

It feels good to gain a bit of leverage over her sometimes.

“Okay, sounds good, I’ll be inside whenever you weirdos decide to come in,” Nicky says, having had enough of whatever you and his mom are doing.

When the door finally closes, Agatha sinks her teeth into your shoulder and you moan loudly. “That’s for teasing,” she says and pulls her hand out of your cunt. You whine at the emptiness and turn around to face her, aching for release.

“But–” you start and she splashes you gently to shut you up.

“Maybe later. But we need to go in now before Nicky actually gets suspicious.”

You grumble, but you know she has a point, so you begrudgingly get out of the pool, Agatha behind you, and you grab your towel to dry off. As you’re looking through your tote bag that you brought, you realize something.

“Fuck, I forgot underwear,” you curse, mostly to yourself, but the older woman happens to be right next to you and hears it.

You know she’s smirking before you even look at her. “You can borrow some of mine,” she says, all sickly sweet, and you just know she’s up to something.

Once the two of you are sufficiently dry, you follow her back into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. She had told Nicky that she was letting you borrow something and you figured it was going to just be a quick trip.

Which is unfortunate for you, because you are still dripping. You can feel the mess between your thighs with each step and it’s becoming uncomfortable.

But you’re good, and you just stand there awkwardly while Agatha roots around in her drawer, shoving aside a multitude of other pairs that you’re sure would work perfectly, until she pulls out a lacy black pair and holds them out to you.

“Put these on,” she says, grinning wolfishly, and you hesitantly reach out and take them. Just to tease, or at least maybe level the playing field for whatever she has planned, you keep eye contact while you reach behind you and untie your top.

Her jaw slackens when you finally peel the fabric from your breasts and you can see her hands twitch, like it’s painful for her to not just reach out and touch you.

And then her lips part when you start to slide your bottoms down and you can feel her eyes burning into you. When they’re around your feet, you kick them at her and she catches them in one hand, staring at them like her brain just shut off.

“Mom!” Nicky’s voice rings through the heated silence in the room and Agatha shakes out of her daze.

She fluffs her hair with her hand and throws your suit back to you. “Get dressed and come back downstairs quickly,” she orders, stripping naked and throwing on a crewneck and sweatpants, slipping something you can’t discern from the underwear drawer quickly into her pocket, before you even have a chance to ogle.

Agatha runs out of the room and you hear her footsteps on the stairs and you turn back to the underwear she gave you. It’s thick and you can tell it is some special pair, but you have no idea what it is.

So you put on your jean shorts and your t-shirt, comb through your wet hair, and go back downstairs.

Agatha is helping Nicky make grilled cheeses but they both turn around when they hear you enter the kitchen.

“There you are,” Nicky comments, while his mom gives you a wink.

You walk over to them and rest your hands on the counter, observing what they’re doing. “What can I do to help?”

And that’s when you feel it: vibrations against your clit that have you gasping and doubling over in shock and at the intensity.

Nicky rushes to your side and cries your name out, but when the rumbling suddenly stops and you’re able to lift your head, you see Agatha wearing a wicked smirk.

The underwear.

That’s why she wanted you to put them on, so she could tease you right in front of her son without actually risking being caught touching you. The thing she put in h

Fuck.

“Are you okay?” Nicky asks again, shaking your shoulders. You stand up, instinctively bracing yourself against the countertop just in case she tries to do it again.

You shoot Agatha a look before answering. “Yeah, sorry, just cramps,” you lie. To his credit, he doesn’t seem to be grossed out, he just helps you over to sit down on the couch.

“Why don’t you just rest then and let us take care of the food?” He offers sweetly and you give him a smile.

If only his mother was as nice as him.

The second Nicky walks away, the vibrations start again and you have to bite down on your finger to keep from moaning. You can feel Agatha’s eyes on you as you start to sweat from how good it feels and your face is burning.

In typical Agatha fashion, she teases you while she and Nicky finish making lunch by turning it up and then down or making it pulse against your clit. You can feel just how absolutely soaked you are and you squirm back and forth on the couch, silently begging for more.

“Do you want anything besides the sandwich?” Nicky asks you and you open your mouth to respond but have to instantly snap it shut when Agatha turns it up even more.

You take a deep breath and try to ignore the buzzing against the most sensitive part of your body. “I’m okay, thanks.” Your voice trembles from the effort of staying composed and you can see Agatha’s shoulders shaking with contained laughter.

Nicky brings over two plates and sets one down in front of you. He sits in the chair adjacent to the couch while Agatha plops down next to you.

“You doing okay, hon?” She asks, reaching over to pat your leg and her touch makes you clench around nothing. You dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from grabbing her hand and shoving it down your shorts.

The teasing is maddening.

“Yeah, good,” you rasp, glaring at her while simultaneously pleading with your eyes to be let out of your misery.

It’s like she knows exactly when you’re about to cum because she either stops the vibrations entirely or slows them down to where you can barely feel anything at all.

You try to focus on eating the grilled cheese, but you can’t stop your hips from undulating, no matter how hard you try. It gets so bad that Agatha throws a blanket over you, muttering something about how cold you look so Nicky doesn’t question it.

With the extra privacy, you’re free to shift your weight more to angle the vibrations better against your clit. You can feel the rumbles throughout your entire pussy and you can feel your mind slowly losing the ability to think.

You set down your plate, maybe three bites taken out of the food, and toss the other half of the blanket over Agatha’s legs. Thankfully, Nicky is flipping through the TV channels so he doesn’t notice.

Agatha watches your face carefully when your hand digs into her thigh through her pants as she turns up the intensity, watching every little twitch of your eyebrows as you try to keep it together.

And then, she suddenly reaches over under the blanket to cup your pussy and press the crotch of the panties against you hard, and a moan tears its way out of your throat. You have to fake a cough to cover it up, but luckily Nicky doesn’t look over.

Her hand is gone as soon as it appeared and you’re left rhythmlessly stuttering your hips, frantically chasing the high you so desperately need.

But it doesn’t come.

Agatha keeps you on edge for almost twenty minutes, turning it up and down and off completely and then back on, and you’re practically panting into the blanket because you can’t breathe too loudly.

It’s the sweetest torture one could bear.

And then finally, finally, Nicky stands up and announces that he has to go to the bathroom.

The moment he leaves the room, you literally throw yourself into Agatha’s lap, straddling her waist and grinding against her, each movement against her stomach pressing the toy in the underwear harder to your clit.

“Agatha, Mommy, please,” you gasp against her lips and her fingers make their way down into your shorts. Instead of dipping into the underwear though, they go in-between them and your jeans so she can directly position the piece right where she wants it.

Her other finger fumbles with something in her pocket, the remote, you’re guessing, and you sink your teeth into her neck before the high-pitched whine can escape at the heightened intensity.

“Better hurry up,” she taunts and you buck your hips at her tone. “You don’t want my son coming back in to find you cumming all over his mommy, do you?”

You shake your head at the rhetorical question and focus on how the vibrations feel against you. You can feel them throughout your whole body and you’re getting so close.

“Please, please, I need more,” you beg, having been kept on the edge for so long that you don’t think you can cum from just this.

But Agatha always knows what you need, even after only spending one night with you.

She pushes the underwear to the side to slide three fingers into you easily, curves them just right, and that coupled with the vibration still against your clit makes you explode.

You bite her again to muffle your cries while you grind, dragging your orgasm out as much as you can.

And then the toilet flushes and you hear the sink running. By the time it turns off, you’ve wiped your sweaty forehead and are sitting back in your normal spot, readjusting the blanket.

Nicky walks back in just as Agatha pops her fingers into her mouth, sucking the taste of you off. Your body clenches weakly at the sight of that and of course she sees it and smirks.

“Everything okay in here? Thought I heard something,” Nicky asks. You keep your eyes peeled on the TV even though you can see Agatha’s smile out of the corner of your eye.

“Just the show,” she says casually and Nicky accepts it, settling back down in the chair.

Agatha leans closer and chuckles quietly into your ear. “Next time, you need to make less noise.”

And it’s impossible to miss the way your body shivers at the promise of a next time.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

686 notes · View notes

bloodibambiidoll · 4 months ago

Text

What would happen if weird!girl was there during the scene with Hollis instead of Sophia?

(This is based off two asks I got. One about weird!girl finally clapping back & one about her being there during this scene. Also thank you for being so patient with me ik it’s been a while since I posted about them !!) Jealously/possessiveness, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, mentions of weird!girl & another man in the past, breeding kink 18+

You know it’s absolutely irrational to be as pissed off as you are right now. But watching Hollis bat her spider leg eyelashes and pucker her years full of filler smudged red lips at your fiancé while she leans over the table with her tits pushed out is making you want to rip her head off. At the beginning of you and Rafe’s relationship you probably would’ve ran in the bathroom and cried because you didn’t feel like you were right for him. You’re not that girl anymore. Rafe has given you so much confidence and security that now you’re walking toward them with a smug smile painted on your face. Everyone on the island knows you and Rafe are engaged and if she thinks you’re going to let her walk all over you like some scared little girl she can think the fuck again.

Your platform boots click against the stone floor as you march across the outdoor seating area with a purpose. Rafe’s scotch is clutched tightly in your ringed hand and the cold condensation on the glass is a welcome cool in comparison to the fire in your veins. Your tiny black dress whooshes as you walk, the slight breeze kicking it up just enough to almost show your ass that’s covered in Gucci fishnets. You’re sick and tired of everyone walking all over you. Men scoff at you and look down on Rafe for being with you. Women constantly flirt with him in front of you like you’re not even there and you’re at your limit. You slide your way under your fiancé’s arm and tuck yourself into his side before holding his drink to him.

“Here’s your drink, baby.” You look up at him with a devilish little smirk and he sends you one of those signature Rafe Cameron smirks right back. His eyes flash from your own to your lips to your tits before he grabs the glass from your hand and places a kiss on your temple.

“Aww, who’s this?” Hollis breaks you and Rafe out of your bubble, making you snap your head toward her with a look that could kill.

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff, and push past Rafe so you can get right up in her face. You paint a condescendingly sweet smile on your lips as your eyes roam over her form. It’s obvious her days as resident cougar are numbered, the build up of Botox is starting to make her face look puffy and that lipstick looks awful with her skin tone. She even has a little bit smeared on her teeth and you can tell she’s slightly tipsy.

“Not only have I lived on this island my entire fucking life, I used to fucking take care of your dogs when you and your husband - oops I mean, ex husband used to go on your little vacations.” You cup your hand onto the side of your cheek and lean in even closer to her so you can whisper-yell in her ear. “You know, before you cheated on him so much he couldn’t take it anymore. Such a waste really, he’s such a sweet, handsome man…”

“Excuse me?” Hollis quickly leans back and scoffs, her hand flying to her chest as if you hit her. Her eyes show a flash of hurt before hardening. “You really ought to learn some respect, young lady. I don’t think you realize what kind of pull I have around here. I could ruin you.” Her lips wear a sinister smile that you assume she thinks is threatening but it just makes you laugh.

“No, I think you need to learn some respect, actually.” You return her smile, but yours is far more sinister than anything she could ever muster up because the minute that Stanley Kubrick esc grin stretches across your lips the one on her own drops and she takes a step back. But you just take a step forward, staying inches away from her face while you tilt your head to the side. “Everyone on this goddamn island already can’t stand me. And they all know Rafe Cameron is mine. But only you and I know that Mr. Robison sought comfort in a young, tight, pussy when you first started stepping out on him.”

“You really are and always have been such a vile little girl.” She sneers down at you and you know you hit the exact nerve you were aiming for. “Jealousy really isn’t a cute look, by the way, dear.”

“It’s not jealousy. It’s possession.” Hollis has gradually been taking steps back from you as the conversation has gone on but you close the distance between the two of you so you can lean up and whisper directly in your ear. “Now get the fuck away from my man before I choke you so hard your eyes pop out of your skull.”

“Ugh! You are a psychotic little bitch!” Hollis stomps her red bottom heeled foot onto the ground with a low growl before turning and stomping off.

“Whose acting like a little girl now!” You yell after her with a laugh and it earns you a glare over her shoulder that you return with laughter. You’re still practically cracking up when you turn to face Rafe who is staring down at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “You good baby? Thought you’d be proud of me.” You pout and your boyfriend's expression hardens as he grabs your wrist and pulls your body flush against his own.

“Oh, bats. I’m proud of you for standing on business, but…” Rafe's large hand grabs onto the back of your neck as leans down so he can practically growl into your ear. “You have some serious fuckin’ explaining to do. Mr. Robinson, huh? You fuck him?”

“And if I did? That was literally years ago before you ever thought twice about me, I think you’ll live.” Your voice holds a hint of defiance that you know for a fact is going to get your ass handed to you very shortly but if you’re being honest, that’s exactly what you want. It’s been a minute since you got Rafe riled up enough to fuck you until you can’t walk.

“You are so fucked. Car. Now. Start walking.”

“Tell me whose fuckin’ pussy this is.” Rafe has you bent over the arm of your expensive leather couch while his cock pounds deep into your dripping walls and his large palm shoves your face into the cushion below you. He ripped your dress over your head and tore your brand new gucci tights open at the crotch the minute he got you through the door. Your ass is beat red and decorated with welts the shape of his designer belt, your drool is dripping down your chin and your vision is blurry from your mascara running down your eyes. He fucking loves you like this.

“It’s yours! My whole body belongs to you, daddy!” The attitude you had earlier on in the night is starting to slip and you’re getting to the point that all you want is to come on Rafe’s cock as many times as he will allow you to. And so far? He’s been edging you for the last forty minutes.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right. You’re my little whore.” Rafe’s fingers lace through your hair, his nails scratching your scalp as he gathers the strands between his digits and pulls them tight so he can yank your head back. He uses his grip for leverage as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. “Don’t wanna think about any other man touching you. Especially not some old fuck. As far as I’m fuckin’ concerned you were a virgin when we met.”

“Well, I wasn’t even close… Does that make you mad, daddy?” You let out a borderline evil chuckle as you let your tongue lull from your mouth while you look over your shoulder at him. His blue eyes are practically black from how dilated his pupils are, his nostrils are flared, and his lips are set into a snarl. You can’t help it that you love him like this. “Does it just drive you crazy that you’re not the only dick that’s been in this tight little pussy?”

“Shut your bratty little mouth, did I not beat that ass hard enough yet, huh? Do I need to pull out and make you watch me jerk off while I nut all over your dumb little face and leave you with nothing but a mess to clean up?” Rafe’s nails dig deeper into your scalp when his grip on your hair tightens. He pulls your back flush against his chest while his hips plow into yours, his thick cock stretching you out over and over with each thrust.

“What about you, huh?” You lace your arm around Rafe’s neck so you can drag your pointed nails down his skin. “Resident man slut? This all started because you were letting that dumb old bag fawn all over you with her tits in your face.”

Rafe pulls out of you and uses your hips to flip you onto your back. Your legs are dangling over the arm of the couch and your top half is bent flat against the cushion, propping your hips up so your pussy is on display to him. He lands a smack on your sopping wet cunt that verberates through the room and you barely have time to process before he’s dealing you with another one. His broad frame looms over you when he leans down to grip onto your throat and pin you to the plush leather.

“I was just appeasing her cause’ she was offering me a way I could make us more money.” He hits your pussy again before landing harsh smacks on your clit in succession. Rafe’s palm cups your cunt and he uses the heel of it to rub your clit roughly while he squeezes your throat so tight you see stars. He toys with your entrance with his thick fingers and then spreads your juices on his shaft. He pumps himself a few times before slamming back inside of you in one thrust. “You really think I’d ever trade this perfect fuckin’ cunt for anything in the world? You think you can go around talking about fucking men old enough to be your dad in front of me and not expect me to mark my territory? I’m gonna cover you in my fuckin’ cum.”

“Sounds like somebody is jealous.” You lick your lips and smile widely up at him while the hand on your throat makes your vision go fuzzy. The sound that leaves Rafe is near animalistic, he grips onto your thigh with his free hand and pins it to the arm of the couch. It spreads you wide and gives him the perfect view of his thick cock covered in your creamy juices as it slams inside you over and over again.

“It’s not jealousy, it’s possession.” Rafe mocks your words from earlier, his hand nearly cutting off your air supply before letting go and grabbing onto the back of your hair. He uses his grip to yank you up off the cushion and force your head down until you can see where you’re connected. His thrusts never falter as he manhandles you like a ragdoll.

“You see that shit? See your greedy little pussy swallowing my dick like it was made for her? Tell daddy again who owns that shit. Drop the attitude and tell me you’re my fuckin’ whore if you wanna come.”

“I’m your whore! Please let me come!” You whine as you writhe beneath him, your final resolve leaving you when he grabs onto both your wrists, suspending your back off the couch as he uses his grip on you to pull you back to meet his rapid thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s right, you’re my perfect little fuck doll. Mine to use, as I please, when I please.” You wrap your legs around his hips to pull him impossibly deeper and it has him growling and twitching inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and take my fuckin’ cum? Let me put a baby in you so all these bitches really know who you belong to?”

“Yes, fuck! Please give me your cum, wanna make you a daddy!” Rafe lets your body fall back down onto the couch so he can lean over you with his hands on either side of your head as he pumps his hips deep and hard into you. The angle has him hitting deeper than ever and each glide of his hips has his skin rubbing against your throbbing clit.

“Come on my cock, milk that shit, baby.” It’s like your body is programmed to listen to his words because that’s all it takes to have your walls pulsing around him as you gush around his thick shaft. You lean up and bite his chest before sucking hard on his skin, marking your territory. A few more rough thrusts of his hips and Rafe is coming right along with you. “Such a good girl, such a perfect, tight, pussy. Gonna give you a fuckin’ baby.” He babbles as his cock twitches inside of you and fills you with ropes of his cum. When he comes down from his high his body slumps against yours, his huge frame pining you awkwardly to the couch.

“Fuck.” You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and run your nails along his buzzed head. “That was so hot. But, you’re crushing me with your giant fucking body.”

“Yeah? I think you deserve it. I don’t think that was punishment enough for fucking Mr. Robinson before we ever got together.” Rafe groans dramatically as he lets more of his weight crush you.

“Well. I think you’ll be delighted to know that I never fucked him.” You say it in a sing-song tone that has Rafe’s head shooting up and his blue eyes locking with yours. “We just sexted. She found the pics on his phone and lost her shit.”

“Oh! You are such a little shit!” He pushes himself up off the couch and points down at you in mock accusation. “You let me think you fucked him so I would beat your lil’ ass, didn’t you?” Rafe chuckles and your hand flies to your chest while you look up at him with your mouth agape.

“What?!” You gasp. “I would never push your buttons for sexual gain. That would be insane.”

“You are such a fuckin’ brat, ya know that?” Rafe smiles as he pulls you off the couch and against his chest. “I ought to bend you over again, over my knee this time.”

“What was all that about giving me a baby?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he glares down at you. “Was that just horny talk or does somebody have baby fever?”

“You know what?” He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder despite your protests. “I’m gonna spank you till you cry and then fuck you full of my cum until you’re begging me to put a baby in you.”

Tagging mooties & weird!girl lovers: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @nemesyaaa @oceandriveab @munson-mjstan @cameronsprincess @rafeinterlude @sturnioloshacker @traceymbcm

Divider by @anitalenia

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

#weird!girl #weird!girl reader #dolly writes #rafe Cameron #Rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe blurb #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks

578 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 11 months ago

Note

hmmm how about james potter and shy reader’s first kiss? 💘

Idk how this sat so long in my inbox, thank you for requesting (and for your patience) angel!

James Potter x shy!reader ♡ 998 words

You know James has been holding back on your account. He’s still a thousand times braver than you are, always with a hand cast over your shoulders or resting on your back or clasped around yours and compliments dropping from his lips like they’re nothing. You find it easier to reciprocate when he makes the first move like that. To lean into his side, tighten your fingers around his, smile and tell him he looks lovely, too.

Tonight he seems to be taking things further, and you suspect you know why. He’s seemed reluctant to let you out of arm’s reach all night. Instead of just holding your hand, he’d played with your fingers while you’d sat in the cinema. He’d pushed your hair out of your face when you turned to talk to him, and a couple of times he’d wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth that you suspect wasn’t really there. Now, as you’re walking home, he’s rubbing a slow, absentminded back-and-forth across the back of your hand with his thumb. It feels like he’s testing the waters.

You’ve been dating for a while now. You’d wondered when it would come.

James walks you up your front steps, every smile he beams your way worsening the bone-thuddering beat of your heart. It’s not necessarily James that scares you. He’s perfect and lovely and kind, and you want him close so badly it’s humiliating.

He squeezes your hand in his, and your nerves misfire, the toe of your shoe catching on the top step. You gasp as you pitch forward, but James is quick. He grabs you around the middle and you save yourself with your other foot.

“Whoa,” he laughs. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry, I don’t know how that happened.”

“They are your own front steps,” James points out. There’s a knowing in his eyes, in the soft curl of his bottom lip, that makes your cheeks warm and your stomach flutter. “I hate to think of what unfamiliar steps do to you if you’re falling right outside your own home.”

“I know.” You look down, pretending you need to check your shoelaces or brush off your pants or some other ruse he won’t believe, and try not to be so acutely aware of how he hasn’t let you go. “It’s humiliating. The neighbors will talk.”

“Let me know if they do. I’ll set them straight.”

You grin up at him. James’ expression is as warm as his voice. His eyes go molten as they meet yours, a look now familiar and yet newly thrilling every time. It makes your spine feel rubbery.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says, voice gone a bit softer than usual. “I had a really great time.”

“I did, too,” you reply earnestly. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“You’re always invited, sweetheart.” His touch slips from around your middle, taking your hand again. “See you Friday, then?”

When you’d told James how busy you’d be this week, he’d penciled himself into your schedule for Friday, when the pandemonium will have ceased. He wants to cook you dinner. You think you’ll likely deliquesce into a heart-shaped puddle when he does.

“See you then.” You smile, and he smiles back, and then intention solidifies in his gaze.

You hold your breath.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Please.” The word leaves you on a sigh, and then James is stepping closer to you, your fingers tightening on his.

The first soft press of his mouth is gentle and chaste. Warm, like the rest of him, like sunlight given form. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, and you lean into the touch on instinct, slotting your nose alongside his to get him closer. It starts so slow and lovely you’re not sure you can handle anything more, but then James parts his lips and you mirror him reflexively and his sunlight is pouring into you.

You let go of his hand to wrap both your arms around his neck. James smiles against your lips as you press closer to him, his hand gentle on your face as he slows you both down again with sweet, soft kisses to your bottom lip.

“Easy,” he says, his own voice slightly hoarse now. It sends shivers down your spine, light as a feather’s touch. “Let’s give the neighbors one headline at a time, yeah? Don’t want to overwhelm the presses.”

You’re lost for words. You let your forehead rest against his, eyes still closed, savoring the warmth emanating from your lips.

“Angel, you with me?” James tilts his head up so his nose bumps into yours. You feel your lips curve of their own volition. “Was that okay?”

You hum. “You’re right,” you say, impressed with how normal you manage to sound. “I think we should go inside so they’re left to wonder.”

That earns you a hearty laugh, James grasping your shoulders when you’re forced away from him by the raucousness of it.

“You said you were tired just a few minutes ago,” he reminds you.

“I feel awake now.”

He laughs again, delighted, and your face warms at your own brazenness. James lets his touch slip down your arms to your hands again, taking them in his and squeezing reassuringly.

“As much as I’d like to,” he says, “you’ve got a big week. I should let you get to bed. Plus—” he gives you a roguish grin “—keeping you wanting more is how I get you to let me in here on Friday.”

You grin down at your shoes. “That’s very conniving of you.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m nefarious that way. But one more.”

James tilts your face up with a hand, pressing one quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out of your reach. You know you look as surprised as you feel, because his eyes dance with amusement as he backs down the stairs, his smile poorly repressed.

“See you Friday.”

1K notes · View notes

angstywaifu · 19 days ago

Text

If I Catch You - Garrick Tavis

A/N: This was meant to be a Kinktober fic, but better late than never right? We can just pretend it's still october.... Thanks to the anon who sent me some unhinged Garrick thoughts that finally pushed me to write this. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stalking/Chasing. Pet Names. Praise. Dominant Garrick. Oral M Receiving. Fingering. Slight choking. Masterlist | Links

“Bloody hell Garrick! You scared the crap out of me.” I squeal as he chuckles at my reaction.

”Not my fault you’re so damn jumpy.” He teases as he reaches around me to get a drink, his other hand coming rest on my hip, his fingers grazing the exposed skin where my shirt has ridden up.

I can’t help but shiver at his touch, craving more of it despite how he’d scared me. If anything, I’d like how he’d scared me. And as he turns his attention back to me, I can tell he notices. His eyes focusing on mine while a knowing smirk graces his lips. There had always been this tension between Garrick and I. One neither of us had pushed further than some implied comments and small touches here and there. But at the end of the day we both ended up in someone else’s bed.

“You snuck up on me, hardly my fault.” I tell him as I grab my own drink.

”No, but something tells me you liked it.” He murmurs into my ear, causing me to shiver in response.

Gods he knew how to work me up. It’s like he could read me like a damn open book. But with how my body was reacting to him it really wouldn’t be hard to tell what he was saying was working. And he was good at reading my bodies reactions.

”And what make’s you so sure about that?” I say as I turn and face him, trapping myself between him and the table.

His eyes slowly take me in, taking his time as he looks me up and down. I hate how much it makes me want to squirm. Give into whatever he wants to say. I’d like to blame it on the alcohol that we’re all drinking, but this is all Garrick. Finally he drags his eyes back to mine, looking into me as if to gauge my reaction.

”Your body gives you away little one. Your body shivering at my touch.” He moves his free hand back to my hip, his fingers grazing over the exposed skin again and making me shiver and lean into his touch. Shit. “Your eyes are glossy and blown out, something you only do when something turns you on. And you look like you’re about two seconds away from pulling me up to your room.”

I square my shoulders, doing my best to not show him how right he is. “Maybe there’s someone else I want to drag up to my room Tavis.”

He chuckles and smirks down at me. “I’d believe that but you’ve not talked to a single male tonight besides me, and I know girls aren’t your thing. So what do you say little one. Want to have some fun tonight?”

He’d given me a head start. Something I wasn’t sure I needed, but as I get to the path leading down into the forest I am suddenly very glad for it. I hadn’t been down here since my first year for Threshing. During the day it was beautiful down here. The forest lush and vibrant with colour. But now in the pitch black, it felt like I was being watched. Like danger was waiting behind a tree for me. Not danger. Garrick. He could be anywhere down here once he came after me. And I had stopped trying to keep track of how long it had been. Which meant he was after me.

*”Five minutes. That’s all you get to get as far away from me as you can.” His voice low and husky as he steps into me, raising his hand to cup my cheek.

”And what happens if you get me?” I ask nervously, my body tingling with the anticipation of what's to come.

The smirk he gives me should have me running and getting help, but instead if sets my whole body alight. ”I get to do whatever I want to you.”*

I pump my legs harder at the thought of him coming after me. I wanted him to catch me, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. To catch up to me he would have to run to. Something I would surely hear behind me due to his size. I should be quieter. There was no telling if anything else was out here with us. Dragons generally only came down here during Threshing. That I knew of. But there was no guarantee they avoided this place any other time of the year.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder to see if I can catch any glimpse of Garrick, but I don’t. And the choice costs me as my foot catches on a tree root, pitching me forward and crashing noisily to the ground. My momentum sends me rolling along the forest floor. Sticks and leaves catching in my hair as I roll along the rough ground. I put my hands out, pushing me to my feet as I look around hastily. I can’t see him, meaning I still have a chance. Still have the head start despite my incident. Though with how loud my heart is beating it’s hard to hear if he is gaining on me. Thunder claps over head as rain starts to fall from the sky. Great, now I’d have no chance of hearing him. I take deep, long breaths in an effort to calm my racing heart and chill the fuck out. I strain my ears as I slowly walk forward, trying to hear for any twigs snapping or foot falls. I hear rustling from my right, snapping my head to the right. Lighting streaks across the sky, illuminating the trees. But no one is there. Shit. He had me on edge already.

I set off in my original direction, trying to get as much distance between where I was. I might not have seen Garrick, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t there hiding out of sight. As I jog forward a twig snaps to my left. But yet again when I turn to look there's nothing there. Another snaps to my right. Nothing there. Again. I was starting to think there was something else out here with me. But rustling ahead has my head whipping forwards, just as a large shadowy figure emerges from a tree far ahead of me.

There was no way. He had given me a five minute head start. How the hell had he gotten past me. Surely I would have heard him. He would have had to run past me to get that far ahead of me. I turn and run with everything I have. Pushing myself as fast as I can to get away from him. But somehow despite the distance he steps in front of me, his hands grasping my upper arms tightly a I crash into him. I push on his chest, doing whatever I can to get away from him. But he’s far stronger than me. He’s probably barely breaking a sweat. As if to solidify my thoughts he spins me around, pulling my back to his chest as he wraps an arm around my hips, pinning me to him. His breath fanning over my neck, causing heat to pool between my legs.

”You did good little one. But you can’t get away from me. I will always find you.” He whispers in my ear, nipping lightly at my neck causing my to gasp and arch into him.

Despite knowing I’m caught, and want to be caught I still struggle against him. Doing what I can to get away and start the chase again. But as his hand goes under my shirt, trailing up my stomach and palming my bare breast. I can’t help but moan and relax into his touch as he rolls my hard nipple between his fingers. Fuck. He uses the distraction to spin me around to face him, gripping my thighs as he hooks my legs around his waist before dropping to his knees, causing me to yelp in shock. He grabs my wrists, easily grasping both of them in one of his hands as he pins them above his head while he pins my hips to the ground with his. He adjust his position, his hips rolling into mine and I can’t help the way my body arches off the ground and the moan that escapes my lips.

“Someone’s needy.” He murmurs from above. “And to think, not long ago you were trying to tell me it was someone else getting you all riled up.”

”Maybe I’m imagining you as someone else.” I tease as I roll my hips against his, a sharp hiss coming from him.

He leans down, his nose barely touching mine. “When I’m done with you, you won’t want anyone else but me little one.”

I open my lips to respond, but instead a gasp comes out instead as he takes a dagger and cuts my shirt open right down the middle, exposing me to him and the cool night air. He releases my hands as his roam my now exposed torso, pulling the ruined shirt from my body. His touch is sending me into a frenzy, craving and wanting him more. He leans down and places kisses up my exposed stomach, lightly nipping at the skin as he makes his way up to my neck. I moan as he kisses the sensitive skin there, but a breathy scream leaves my lips as he bites down on my neck. My hand flies up and tangles in his dark curls, keeping him buried in my neck as he moves to the other side.

He moves away, resting back on his knees as his hands move to the ties of my pants. His fingers making fast work of it before moving to my boots. Also making quick work of those before tossing them to the side and removing my pants with ease. I reach out to undo his pants, but he swats my hand away instead. Message loud and clear. He’s in control. He shrugs off his flight jacket, discarding it to wherever the rest of my clothes have gone before rolling up the sleeves of this black shirt.

I can’t help but take him in. Despite the fact he’s fully clothed, I can’t help but admire him. There was something about a guy kneeling between your legs, looking over you with all the control that just did things to me. I’m pulled from my thoughts when Garrick’s fingers slide between my legs, parting me for him as he slide a finger into me. I cry out as I arch my back off the ground, my legs hooking around him again, locking him in place as he adds another finger, and then another. Pumping them in and out with ease as he brings me closer and closer as I start trembling beneath him, starting to come undone on nothing but his fingers. His thumb reaching up and rubbing circles on my clit, biting my lip to muffle to moan. Fuck. I was already a mess and he’d barely touched me. I was doomed once he fucked me properly. Garrick curls his fingers inside me, as if beckoning my body to come undone. And it does. I cry out as my body goes rigid, my eyes slamming shut at the intense feeling, moaning out his name as I come undone on his fingers. He continues his pace, using his fingers to prolong the orgasm he pulls from me. Eventually he pulls his fingers from me, causing me to whimper at the loss.

”On your knees.” He tells me, my eyes opening to see him standing before me.

I nod, shakily pushing onto my knees as I look up at him. Watching as his hands move to undo the pants he’d stopped me from undoing earlier. I nearly choke on my breath as he pulls down his pants, his hard cocking springing free from its confines. Holy shit. I’d heard rumours about Garrick, but seeing it in person was very different. My mouth waters as I take him in. He reaches out, grasping my chin as his thumb brushes over my lips. He pushes on my lips, my mouth opening with ease as he slides his thumb in, my lips clamping around it as I suck on it, rolling my tongue over the tip. He pulls it back, a pop echoing in the now eerily quiet forest.

”You ready little one?” He asks as he grasps his cock in his hand.

”Yes, sir.” I say, now using the fact he out ranks me against him.

I part my lips as he pushes the tip against them, causing me to gag around his size. I feel his body vibrate as he groans as the feeling, forcing his cock deeper. I tentatively bob my head back and forth, getting use to his size, using my hand to take care of the part I can’t find in my mouth. It’s not long before Garrick’s hips take over, thrusting in and out of my mouth, causing me to rest my hands against his thick thighs. I roll my tongue over the tip when he pulls back, a guttural moan coming from him. His hand grips my hair tightly causing me to hiss around his cock as he holds my head in place. It’s the only warning I get before he starts fucking my mouth. The tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat as I moan around him. I hollow my cheeks, causing his hips to stutter as I suck on his cock, rolling my tongue around him when I can.

”Fuck, that’s it little one. Doing so good.” He murmurs above me.

He continues to give me words of encouragement, but I barely register them over the lewd sounds coming from my mouth. I nearly choke around his cock as he crouches down a little bit, the hand not tangled in my hair grasping my neck, making my feel every inch of him down my throat. Something tells me he can feel himself fucking my throat as he moans loudly above me, his pace picking up. Tears sting my eyes as he pushes deeper, my throat constricting around him. Seconds later Garrick’s body goes rigid as his hips stop, his body leaning forward as he leans a hand against the tree behind us, his body twitching as he comes undone.

Garrick steps back, his cocking popping free as I sag back to the ground, scooting back as I close my eyes and lean back against the tree and catch my breath. I shudder as Garrick’s hands grab my leg, but I relax when I feel him sliding my clothes and shoes back on. Well what’s left of them. I no longer had a shirt after he cut it from my body with his dagger. I open my eyes as his fingers caress my cheek, Garrick crouching in front of me as he holds his jacket in his hand. His fingers trail down to my shoulder, tugging on my shoulder as he pulls me away from the tree. He drapes the jacket over my shoulders before placing my arms in the sleeves, securing the jacket around me as best he can to cover me.

”You did so good little one.” He murmurs as he caresses my cheek. “Don’t get lost on your way back.”

I blink and when I open my eyes Garrick is gone, leaving me alone and desperate for more

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #garrick tavis #fourth wing imagine #the empyrean #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader #garrick tavis smut #fourth wing smut #angstywaifu kinktober 2024 #kinktober #angstywaifu kinktober

176 notes · View notes

loviingpedri · 7 months ago

Text

tripling the fun -jude and jobe bellingham

prompt: three best friends take over the house by babysitting the bellingham boys’ two nephews and niece.

pt.2 here

bellinghams & fem!reader platonic friendship

warnings: grammar issues, all characters are fictional (except jude and jobe ofc)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

knocking on the door, anticipation grew.

you have grown up with jude and jobe, considering your parents and their parents were very close friends.

you practically were like their sister. you did everything with them. you were there at their biggest accomplishments or lowest levels.

the door opened to jude and jobe’s aunt, ready for dinner. recently, the bellingham boys recently had a new addition to their family, a little baby nephew. the parents had 3 kids, and one still being about 6 months old, it was a major hassle. they needed a little break, some time for themselves.

who else better to call? the famous trio!

the parents trusted you and the brothers very much. trust me, the babies were in good hands. (might be delusional, but we’ll see!)

“oh my goodness, thank you guys for coming.” the mom hugged all of you. giving you a little peek on the cheek.

suddenly, jude and jobe’s uncle appeared behind her. “you’re here! thank you guys. come in.” stepping into the house, you were met with cold air.

“i see the kids really love this house.” you spoke with a smile as you noticed toys were scattered around the floor. ending your sentence, jobe nearly tripped over a toy truck.

catching himself as you were frightened for him, the three of you burst into a laughter.

“okay mate, it’s not that funny.” jobe said while pushing the truck away from his path.

“jobe, how do you not see a bright yellow and green truck?” jude was dying from laughter.

“i’m really grateful that you took this opportunity. it has been quite awhile since my husband and i have gone out.”

suddenly, a huge commotion was made. all eyes going to the stairway, you could see a little boy about the age of 6 running down the stairs in a little dinosaur onesie.

“there’s my little guy!” the boy ran into jude’s arms into a tight hug.

“i knew it! i knew you were coming! i heard your voice.”

“did you really?” jude fixed his onesie and gave him a little pat on the back.

then, you heard a door slam. staring at the stairs once again, you could see a 4 year old girl in a pink princess dress with a tiara and wand, strutting down with a bright smile (and one missing tooth).

“all hail the princess.” jobe spoke as she slowly walked down with her head held up high. smiles appeared on everyone’s faces, except her brother’s. she only earned an eye roll from him.

finally reaching downstairs, you curtsied to her as jude and jobe did a little bow.

breaking character, she did not hesitate to run to jobe. giving him the biggest hug he has probably ever been given.

“i think the baby is still asleep. the formula is already prepped since he should be waking up soon. we have to get going, good luck guys!” quickly grabbing her purse and getting the hell out of there with her husband, it was time to finally have some fun and bonding times.

“alright kiddos, what should we do today?” jude put down his nephew and immediately patting his head for reassurance.

“we should build a castle!” jobe, also putting down the niece, agreed.

“what kind of castle?”

“castles are for losers!” her big brother snarled at her.

“now, dinosaurs may be big and strong, but they are certainly not rude.” you bent down to his level. he crossed his arms, but unexpectedly, you started tickling him.

“tickle attack!” jude yelled as everyone was tickling the dinosaur and princess.

all laughter came to a quick stop. cries of a baby were echoing throughout the house. jude and jobe were no professionals for caring for a child under 1, therefore both synchronized to look at you for help.

and to be honest, you wanted to hold that baby forever. your motherly instincts kicked in. running up the stairs, you could not wait. meeting the little guy at just 2 months old, he was probably the most adorable baby you’ve ever seen (maybe because he looks a little like baby jude, but we’re gonna ignore that fact).

slowly and gently opening the door, you were met with a baby with a small tear falling down his cheek, but having the brightest smile as soon as he saw you. your heart melted.

“aren’t you the cutest,” you picked him up and could see his chubby face and rolls on his arms. “the baby fever is really kicking in.”

wiping the little tear, you placed his head on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs. putting your hand on his semi-bald head to create a shield just in case, jude and jobe lit up to seeing him.

crowding the little one, jude took him into his arms as you prepared the milk. in the kitchen, you were met with a little princess eating a sugar cookie (jobe couldn’t say no to her).

“hello your royal highness.” you gave a smile to her as you grabbed a little bottle.

“hi y/n. how’s it going?”

“it’s going great! how’s your cookie?”

“it’s good. you should be a mom.”

the statement created a pause for you. the measuring cup filled with formula almost fell on the counter.

“sorry ma’am, but what?”

“you should be a mom.”

“oh no thank you, it is definitely not for me.”

“well you definitely need a boyfriend. i have one! his name is james, he’s 6. i like them older.”

“hold on, you’re talking about your brother’s friend?”

“yep! that james. he’s so dashing. you know you should get with jude.” a frown appeared on your face. kids are full of creative ideas, but this was not on your bingo card.

“i really appreciate your feedback, but i need time to review this information.” jude suddenly appeared in the kitchen, giving you a scare.

“what are y’all talking about?”

in panic, you shouted “nothing!” which created high suspicion. the princess got off the chair after finishing the cookie, and walking off with jude.

finishing on making the bottle, you weren’t sure on what you were about to see, but it was definitely a sight.

jude and jobe bellingham were in pink and purple tutu’s and tiaras. you gasped at the sight.

“y/n, please don’t laugh.” jobe pleaded, sensing his embarrassment already.

“who said i was gonna laugh?” you picked up the baby trying to hide the fact, you were gonna laugh. sitting on the couch to feed him, the boys were being ordered around.

“alright, what’s next to protect the precious princess?”

“it is i! the knight! and i have come to destroy this kingdom!” the once dinosaur jumped out from the hallway holding a fake sword and shield.

the princess let out a tiny scream.

“uncle jude! protect the castle now!” jude nodded in agreement as he picked up a fake sword and play fighting with the knight. tutu’s were dropping and tiaras were falling.

“meanwhile you, uncle jobe, you should totally dance with me.” hiding your smile with the bottle, jobe didn’t really have a choice.

the house was chaotic. a ballerina and knight were battling it out, jobe and the princess were turning and spinning. jobe even had a little purple magic wand as his prop for his dance recital. you were glad you could lay back with a baby who did not give any trouble.

the fun continued to grow as the night went.

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jobe bellingham x yn #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jobe bellingham x you #jobe bellingham one shot #jobe bellingham fanfic #jobe bellingham imagine #jobe bellingham x reader #jobe bellingham #real madrid #sunderland afc

421 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 4 months ago

Note

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

413 notes · View notes

sanakiras · 6 months ago

Text

DISTRACTION

PAIRING — xu minghao x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.5k

SYNOPSIS — you can’t help staring at your best friends’s hands. when he pushes you to tell him why, things in your relationship take a turn.

TAGS — minghao in a suit, explicit sexual content, pure self-indulgence, porn with no plot, fem!reader

NOTE — there’s something sooo attractive about a man having long fingers. also i just have a crush on the8. no i will not elaborate. might delete this later bc i don’t like it. oh well. enjoy :o

lately, whenever being around your best friend, you’ve been... distracted.

for some reason, you’ve always liked it when men have long fingers. obviously the best known reason for that is a lewd one, but for you, it’s more than that. long fingers are hypnotizing to you.

of course it was minghao’s face that drew you in first. plump lips, eyes that could both kill and make you melt under their gaze, a strong jaw, dark hair often slicked back with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top.

then you noticed his figure. minghao is tall — long legs, long arms, long torso. what intrigued you about him was the control he has over it, alongside his flexibility. his movement is always swift, sharp and coordinated. not one to stumble over his own feet.

he became a close friend to you in no-time. within the first months of meeting him, you developed an admiration towards him, and that continued to grow into a crush you feel nothing if not insecure about.

because despite knowing him well, he’s far from an open book.

he’s not once given you the idea that he likes you the same way you like him, and now that he’s become such a good friend of yours, the last thing you’d want is to lose the friendship you’ve built with him.

so you keep it to yourself.

or, well, you try.

his current outfit makes that ridiculously hard. you’ve never seen him in a suit before.

while you weren’t all that excited for the black-tie event hosted by your faculty, just the sight of him has changed your mood like a whole day’s worth of caffeine.

and when he walks over to you, all you can do is admire him. the fabric suits his body like a glove, with several silver rings adorning his fingers and his frequently worn small hoop earrings to match them. the beautifully subtle black eye pencil brings out the colors of his eyes and styled hair.

“you look like a dream,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth when he steps before you, the tone of his voice as gentle as the smile he gives you.

heat rushes to your cheeks. “so do you. never expected to see you in a suit, but you clean up nice.”

he chuckles at your sarcasm. “thank you.”

as he tells you about — whatever it is, you honestly hardly remember a thing of the conversation — you suddenly come to the deafening conclusion that you’re nowhere near as subtle with your glances as you thought you were, which certainly bursts your bubble a bit.

“you keep doing that.” he muses, tilting his head as he looks at you with curiosity.

“what?”

“staring at my hands.”

“i’m not—i don’t stare.”

“what else would you call it? constant-looking?”

“hilarious. really.”

when you don’t say anything else, he purses his lips, hoping to get a little more out of you. you’ve got to give him credits for his determination. “so, what’s so interesting about my hands?”

with a simple shrug of your shoulders, you pretend to be casual, like he didn’t catch you staring at him. “they’re not interesting, just… nice.”

“nice?”

“can’t we just drop this? and by ‘we’ i mean you.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “we’re friends. you can tell me, i won’t judge.”

“you? not judging anyone? that’d be almost suspicious.”

the retort makes him smile to the point it hurts his jaw. “i won’t judge you.”

a sigh rolls past your lips. “it’s no big deal, i just… like it when people have nice hands.”

“and why’s that?”

“does everything you like need to have a reason?”

"no, i guess not."

a playfulness that stirs doubt in you flashes behind his eyes, and you’re forced to put a halt to the conversation when one of your fellow faculty members walks up to the two of you with a glass of champagne, which you could not be happier with.

all you can do is hope minghao won’t bring up the topic again, the redness in your cheeks betraying you.

unfortunately, he does eventually bring it up again, once he’s gotten you home.

what his exact words were is difficult to remember, but now that he’s pushed you back onto your bed, you can’t find it in you to give a damn.

your brain feels foggy and a thin layer of sweat begins to form on your neck while he uses his hands to unbutton the white dress shirt, his impatience getting the best of him for once.

even though you’re busy pulling your top off, it’s hard to divert your gaze from his hands and chest, which brings him to tilt his head at you. “you’re staring again.”

“if you don’t want me to stare, don’t give me a reason to.”

“oh, so this whole thing is really just my fault?” he taunts, getting so annoyed with the damn buttons on his shirt not working with him that he leaves the bottom half like it already was, only the upper half of his chest peeking through.

once he lays his eyes on your half-naked form, you spot a growing desperation and impatience in his features, which is rare on him.

much to your surprise, he’s eager and quick, refusing to waste a single second. his hands have already pulled you towards him by your thighs before you can even comprehend it.

the thin silver necklace touches your warm skin when he leans down to kiss you, the last thing you’d imagined you’d be doing tonight — and it’s better than you anticipated.

he pries your legs open with a nudge of his knee, and just when you want to look down to his hand on your skin, he pushes two fingers into you, curling it upwards.

your hands immediately fly to his upper arms in response to the sudden intrusion, but it only makes you crave more.

his lips latch onto your cheeks, jaw and neck, placing wet kisses everywhere he can reach while his long fingers move in and out of you.

“just two and you’re already so tight — you can take another one, though, can’t you?”

how sweet of him to pose it as a question, an offer.

you both know damn well he’s gonna keep going either way.

minghao doesn’t know what it is about you that just utterly sets him off. it might be your constant pessimism, your snarky delivery of sarcastic little comments, the way you needlessly tease him all the time — or maybe it’s that whenever he sees you, he wants nothing more for you to get the fuck on top of him, moaning his name.

who knows.

“why don’t you just try me?” you ask rhetorically, accidentally clenching around his digits when he moves them again.

minghao chuckles, baffled that you’ve still got such an attitude, even when you’re at his mercy. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, though. “right. maybe i should just do that.”

a third finger prodding into your hole makes you whine the loudest you have so far. he smirks a little when noticing the way you’re fighting so hard to maintain your composure, and the noise of your squelching wetness begins to become embarrassingly loud.

but it isn’t enough for him.

usually, it’s not at all like him to be insatiable or greedy. but all he can think of right now is that he wants more — to be closer with you, deeper.

he feels his own lust in every motion, every thrust of his fingers, every twitch of his cock. it makes him wonder if he’s ever wanted something, no, someone this badly.

his next move goes unnoticed by you since you’ve got your eyes closed and head back, but then you feel it, and it’s like you snap awake, an electric jolt making you jerk forward.

when you look down, he eagerly runs his tongue up and down your pussy, fingers remaining buried inside you.

“oh my god—” you stutter out, hand clutching onto the pillow but quickly moving down to grab his hair.

lost in your own pleasure, you push his head down, the lower half of his face coated in your arousal — fuck, he wants to do this for hours.

he proceeds to curl his fingers again, and he must’ve hit a good spot, because your legs are beginning to tremble, moans shorter and higher-pitched. “fuck, hao, it’s too much, i’m too close—”

“are you?” he rhetorically asks, pushing his digits as deep as possible, sucking on your clit, hollowing his cheeks. even when you try to close your legs, he firmly keeps them open.

your hips buck into his face when you cum, knees shaking, and he presses his thumb on your pussy, which makes your eyes roll back.

propping yourself up on your elbows, you suddenly feel his fingers slowly sliding out of you, and just that feeling alone already turns you on again. he sits across from you, still between your legs, and his fingers are completely coated in the sticky wetness that’s still dripping down your cunt.

he pushes them in his mouth, licking them clean, some of your arousal remaining on his lips.

“please say you’ll let me do that again.”

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#svt x reader #svthub #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao ff #svt fanfic #xu minghao smut #svt ff #minghao x reader #minghao smut

278 notes · View notes

wetpussyju1ce · 2 months ago

Note

i read on the sons of anarchy fandom wiki page that wendy and jax only married because gemma pushed them to it because she wanted grandkids and it got me thinking that gemma would totally push jax with some younger girl (like early 20s) who is associated with the club to maximize her chance at multiple grandkids. gemma doesn't care if she's ripping this poor girl away from her family or if she has other obligations like post-secondary education or a job, she sees her successor when jax becomes club president. she'll teach her to be the perfect housewife for jax and let's be so fr. jax is not gonna complain about a young(er) cute girl in his house cooking and cleaning and popping out his kids

thanks for the ask! see end of the text for notes :)

jax teller x poc!fem reader

notes: ik charming isn't real so imagine legal age to buy scissors is 18.

warning: reader is 21. but doesn't look like it. she's skinny too. also Gemma is a freak and lowkey behaving like a predator. some language used may be triggering cuz Gemma is purposely treating reader like a child. like grooming a whole adult. but yeah. Just be careful if that's triggering to you but no smut or anything.

Gemma first sees her at a shitty burger joint. the one where they make the workers wear bright coloured aprons and hats. Gemma never gets the burgers. Just the milkshakes. always the milkshakes. she used to get them all the time when she used to get her periods. always had a weird craving for them. but now that shes hit menopause. she still gets the urge. the itch for a sweet diabetes inducing milkshake once in a while.

she's served by reader, young, looks maybe about 16, tired, small wrists and skinny arms. Gemma pays, gets her milkshake and leaves. drinks the whole thing in her car in the parking lot then leaves.

the next time she sees her is at the supermarket, she's in front of her in line, abt to pay at the till, got some scissors, medical tape and paracetamol w random food items and socks. Gemma doesn't say anything, just watches the same girl that served her the other day keep looking at the tiny black monitor, surveying the price going up and up. then the cashiers asks for I.D, to buy the scissors and medicine. the cashier says she needs to be 18 and reader pulls out her ID. it gets checked. she's old enough. she pays for her stuff then leaves.

Gemma looks at her long and hard. looks at how small she is. just a girl, really. her hair is not that long barely touches her shoulders as it curls up in every direction, bounces w each step and move she makes. her face was always bare and she dressed in oversized t-shirt and jeans everytime Gemma sees her. Gemma knows she's tiny her clothes too. knows she has a flat stomach and small tits. but that's okay because that won't stay the same for too long.

it's honestly stalkerish how much Gemma keeps following the girl around, observing her go on about her day until she realises the girl is actually sleeping in her car.

that's when she finally decides to step in, introduces herself and gains the girls trust, because see, Gemma had a plan, and she will get what she wants no matter what it takes.

Gemma starts talking abt helping the girl, abt how shitty it must be sleeping in her car, abt how she lived through tough times and knows how it feels. Gemma convinces her to come w her to the bar, that she can get her a job that pays a little better than the minimum wage burger place. that there's even a room to spare for her if she's willing to put in the work.

and the girl does. oh she does. she's grateful. works hard and takes every opportunity given to her to improve her living situation. she tries very hard to earn her keep. Just to not go back to sleeping in her car because it's uncomfortable and cramped and it makes her hurt and ache all over.

Gemma leaves her be for a couple of days. so the girl gets used to her new surroundings. doing any task she's given at the bar, wipe counters, cleaning the toilets, bringing in the mail, taking out the trash, she'll do anything, and she gets paid of course, every week, in a little envelope w her name on it. the room she gets given isn't that big, it's tiny really, with a mattress, a single window, a wardrobe and a tiny desk. and it was more than enough for her.

Gemma quickly notices that the girl doesn't drink. never smokes either. no matter how much she's offered. she eats as much healthy food as possible. drinks lots of water and tries to take care of her health as much possible. which is puzzling to Gemma because where did this girl even come from?? how did she end up sleeping in her car?

it doesn't matter. because Gemma had a plan. and the first step was already complete.

it turns out that the girl was actually 21. which was great. good even. because Gemma genuinely thought she was 16 or 17. and she doesn't think Jax would get it on with a teenager. her boy was better than that.

and even at 21 the girl looked smaller than others her age, it's like puberty skipped her. she was skinny to begin with. a given considering she was homeless a couple of weeks ago. she was short, but not that short. her face still held on to baby fat and she has the cutest curls on her head. she was perfect. a fresh canvas for Gemma to paint on.

so then Gemma managed to convince her to go with her to the doctors for some check ups. she'll pay for everything, Gemma said, she just has to come. Gemma talked about feeling a sense of responsibility towards her, said she felt like someone who found a kitten by the side of the road. she had to get her checked just to make sure everything's okay.

and she accepted, under the guise that Gemma just cared abt her wellbeing. in a sense it was true. but in reality all Gemma cared about was any medical issues that could potentially affect the chances of her getting grandchildren from this girl, because of course that was the case, Gemma has never done anything for free.

everything went well at the doctors, the girl is perfectly healthy, has no history of medical issues, doesn't even have family history of anything, heck, even her period cycles were absolutely normal and all her teeth were hers, straight and perfect.

it was unfair really, how Gemma lucked out with this one, how perfectly healthy she was, ripe and ready for the taking.

then next step was getting the girl to trust Gemma even more. she started stringing the girl along for random trips to the most random places, grocery shopping, to the bank, to the garage, whatever it was. then Gemma would bring her with when she goes shopping, says she needs some girls time, about how her son jax was useless and that this feels like having a daughter of her own.

Gemma didn't really come out to shop for herself, even tho she likes to, it was more for the girl than anything, she coaxed her into trying clothes Gemma picked out, managed to convince her that she should let Gemma get them for her. and that's how it started, slowly building up the perfect little doll for jax. Gemma would dress her up in pretty girly colours, the colours she doesn't wear herself, like light pinks and oranges and baby blues. Light and soft fabrics. then perfumes. then lipglosses and mascara.

Gemma wasn't surprised when she found out the girl doesn't even know how to wear makeup. she just smiled and said she didn't need it anyway, with a face like that. and just told her lipgloss was enough. oh she was perfect, and Gemma was so happy. so thrilled.

and then Gemma asked her once if she was a virgin. all the girl did was bite her lip and look away and that's all Gemma needed to know.

then the girl started catching the attention of club members, especially when she walked somewhere and her sweet perfume would waft behind her, leaving a trail of sweetness behind. Gemma knew to put her in pretty colours in an environment where it looked like everything was grey and black, it made her stand out, like a flower growing in the cracks of concrete.

and even with all the attention the girl didn't care, she kept on working, doing whatever Gemma asked her to, perfectly obedient. and Gemma knew to stop giving her dirty and difficult jobs now, she needed her to stay put, do easy things and be pretty while doing it, so it maximises the chance of jax seeing her.

and Gemma knew not to tell jax a thing. she knew he'd be suspicious of her true intentions. so she didn't tell him, or anyone, anything and just waited, bid her time until the boys were all together having drinks, she called over the prettiest girl in the room and asked her to give jax a folder.

the girl nodded and made her way to the table, she didn't have to say anything, standing behind him like that, because her sweet scent already alerted him that she was there. Jax turned around in his chair, confused, and the moment she parted her strawberry pink lips to tell him about the folder, Gemma saw the moment her son was done for. she saw the moment something in his eyes shifted and knew she won.

phew. I hope you liked it anon :)

I really liked this idea and the dark themes of it. so I def want to maybe write something more of the same theme and ideas. but yh. this took me a while because part of me wanted to flesh out a whole fic but then realised I do not have the energy for that atm so that's all I can offer for now.

Also nobody cares but I'm on like ep3 of s1 of soa 🧍This blog was fuelled purely by me watching soa while ovulating and now here we are 😔

#fanfiction #fanfic #jackson jax teller #jackson teller #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x y/n #jax teller x you #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy jax #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa #soa x reader #sons of anarchy gemma #gemma teller #anon #ask #request

170 notes · View notes

kismetlotts · 5 months ago

Text

cw: sexual content

Colleague Simon Riley who you banter with all the time. You weren’t scared of him or intimidated by him like everyone else and he found that different; intriguing. You’d seen him kill people so effortlessly, watched him make decisions that would keep people up all night but nothing put you off. There was something there on your end that drew you in- he had no clue what it was until one morning Johnny decided to enlighten him.

“Aye Ghost has everyone tinklin’eir pants’!” He’d laughed, the two of them were walking towards a helicopter preparing for their mission together, his hand pushing Ghosts shoulder trying to get something out the man but failing as usual. Johnny can talk for days, meaningless rambling, life stories, ranting, joking- god the guy doesn’t shut up. He was nearly as bad as you and in his head he was sure you two were distantly related. Two of the most annoying people being two of the most closest people to him.

“Aside from bonnie, eh’ she’s wet for other reasons.” He’d chuckle out, arm still bumping into his shoulder while he laughs loudly, but Simon froze. His whole body hot and stomach swirling surely he must’ve heard wrong. Even if he heard right, it’s Mactavish. He’s not exactly great at reading people more so knowing something like that.

“What?” Simon asked his voice dark and gruffly. Johnnys eyes met his and his cheeky smile fell of his face. Eyes scanning Ghosts for a moment before stopping in shock, mouth open slightly.

“Ya didn’t know? You ave’ her wrapped round your finger! Don’ try mess with me every’ne knows it’s obvious- she’s even gon’ told me tha’.” And Simon just felt lost. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d never really been with a woman or exactly cared to, his life was hectic as a youngster and being in the SAS it’s not often he engages or talks to a woman other than yourself. He didn’t see you in a romantic aspect: he’d never really thought of it. You’d always just been you to him, the girl who annoys him, he’d never thought about being with you. Or maybe you were just attracted to him, maybe you just wanted to fuck him- He didn’t know. He didn’t know much about feelings.

“She said herself that she gets wet over me?” He asked again just to be clear. His way with words were cut to the point and open, hearing Simon say ‘gets wet’ so fast and easily was enough to make Johnny cringe internally but he nodded. He told Simon about that night- what you had said, what you wanted. He went over everything thag happened while you two were hanging out. You and Johnny were kind of close and as much as Johnny talks, he didn’t take the Scott man for a liar. Simon spun around on the spot, telling Johnny to continue on with the mission and take another recruit before heading for the offices, catching a glimpse of you sorting through papers.

He slipped into the room quietly, walking up behind you as you spun around reaching for something. Jumping as he looked down at you, silently.

“- Oh my fuck! Simon! You scared me you idiot.” Your heart pretty much jumping out of your chest as you huffed. You’d already been so stressed out with all this paperwork given to you- this wasn’t even your job but of course you’d help out where needed. Simon just looked down at you more, eyes squinting below his skull mask as he looked over you. You shot him a glance, then another one, then another one until you were about to ask what his problem was but Simon spoke first.

“Do I make you wet?”

“….Sorry?”

“Do I make you wet? Like horny?” You were fucking gobsmacked and you knew exactly what had happened and you swore to god were going to fucking murder that mohawk wearing, secret sharing dickhead. And Simon was no better, how can someone just go up to you and ask you that? Your back ran cold and your face burnt hot- words coming out in a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And instead of talking he took a step forward, cornering you in and making you step back. Not realising what was happening yourself until you were against the wall, looking up at him with them eyes. So wide and innocent, shining in the light, but fabricated with a need. A desire.

Everything in your vision blurred beside Simon, it was like you were back in bed. Lost in your dream world, slipping your hand into your panties, circling your clit imagining he was in bed with you. Imagining you him so close to you. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel the wetness of your panties already, still looking up at him as you blinked. Simon saw it now, the look in your eyes- it really was obvious. His eyes dropped down your body and back up at your eyes as he took a step back himself in disbelief.

“Fucking ‘ell, I do don’t I?” And what could you say? Lie? That would make the situation bigger than it needed to be with either you being found out as a liar or Johnny. You couldn’t admit it could you? I mean the two of you were close but he was still your Lieutenant. You could be in a lot of trouble- fuck if he wanted, you could probably lose your job. A sigh left your lips as you wracked your head for ideas. Excuses, explanations- but you had to be honest with him, it was the only way.

“Look! It’s not like romantic- I’m not like into you like that at all. I just- Okay I just find you attractive. It’s like if you were looking at some hot naked woman, you’d get hard wouldn’t you? I cant help what my body does!” Simon stood still, staring at your legs which only added to the moment. Only added to the aching need you felt

“I’m not naked. I ain’ sexy and I wear a mask for a living ‘nd kill people, you find that attractive, do ya?” Yes. You did and you didn’t know why yourself. You knew what he meant by it and he knew you didn’t find killing people attractive so instead of getting defensive you stayed quiet. You found him attractive, his voice, his height and the mask added to your intrigue. He watched as you remained quiet taking a deep breath and tilting his head to the side.

“So you want to fuck?” His voiced asked slightly deeper and you let out a laugh, back still pressed against the wall as he moved in closer.

“Jesus Christ Simon you cant just ask someone that-“ His hands met your body as he began to trace the fabric of your clothes, running his fingers over your skin slowly because he was starting to see something in you. Something sexual and he fucking liked it. He licked his lips underneath his mask, smirking as he locked eyes with you again.

“Just take my chances then?”

#call of duty #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost smut #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley smut

367 notes · View notes

animasolaoriginal · 8 months ago

Text

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️THREE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO THREE FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

He finds out the girl he picked up on a whim is the perfect candidate. So innocent, so submissive already, with just the right amount of Daddy issues. But she still has a lot to learn, and he's determined to teach her everything.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Sex toys. Fingering. Cunnilingus. Orgasm denial. Oral sex/deepthroating. Anal play. Creampies. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.9k

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

He's surprised how quickly she adjusted to her new surroundings, to the things he's asked of her, forced on her. Maybe she's still feeling the after-effects of the drug he's given her last night, maybe she doesn't understand the situation just yet, maybe she's simply the perfect candidate for this. To stay here, for him. She's barely putting up any fight, only seems embarrassed most of the time, but the way she's sucked him off has shown him how eager she really is.

Even though she still has a long way to go. Too fucking innocent.

She's that little ball of hair and limbs on his lap, curled up, melting into him, small hands that have been around his cock now gripping his shirt. Feet tucked under his thigh, deep little breaths against his chest. It's been only a few hours, and she's already so submissive. He's almost disappointed he didn't get to break her first. But maybe her defiance is yet to come. He's certainly looking forward to it.

His phone chimes on the coffee table, and he throws a quick look at the display. The courier is here. Good. Without a word, he stands, picking her up effortlessly. She hums against him, leans into him as he carries her into the bedroom. When he puts her down on the bed, leaning over her for a moment, he meets her hooded eyes. So pliant, so innocent. He can't help but lean down further to press his lips to hers.

She melts into the mattress as he pushes her deeper, putting his weight on her, elbows on either side of her shoulders as he gives himself a few minutes of a bit more much-needed pleasure before he has to leave her. She's hesitant at first, but as soon as he slips his tongue between her lips, her own jumps into action. A groan escapes him as she kisses him back with more and more confidence. His fingers dig into her hair, their tongues wrestling, his cock stirs back to life against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back abruptly, breathing a little harder, the girl beneath him panting as well, her lips parted and red, glistening. Her eyes on him. “I gotta take care of something,” he tells her quietly. She only blinks. “Be a good girl and wait here for me, okay?” The way her pupils dilate when he calls her that makes his stomach tense up. He's noticed it before, how she reacts to his praise. It's an intoxicating sight.

He crawls off her and stands, looking down at her small frame. White lace was a good choice, accents her innocence perfectly. Those little embroidered flowers barely cover anything, but it's still enough fabric to keep it interesting. She's beautiful, the way she lies in front of him, chest rising and falling, that flutter to her stomach, the little twitch to her thighs as she presses them together and tries to hide her sex. He raises an eyebrow at that.

“While I'm gone,” he says, a smirk growing on his lips, “I have a little task for you.”

He steps towards the nightstand and pulls open the first drawer, randomly picks some of its contents and throws them onto the bed next to her. Her eyes widen when she follows the gesture and stares at the colorful toys. He picks up one of the smaller dildos and braces himself on one arm as he leans over her.

“I want you to be very wet when I come back,” he whispers, gently taking her hand and placing the object onto her small palm. “Understood?”

She still looks at him in shock, and he can already tell she's never used any of the things he's presented her with. Another challenge, another thing he's willing to change. He leans back and looks down at her, head cocked to the side. His eyes narrow slightly when she doesn't reply.

“Understood?” he repeats a little harsher.

A tiny gasp escapes her and she sits up, nodding frantically. “Yes, sir.”

His hand finds her cheek, a gentle caress, thumb running over her bottom lip. He watches her intently. “Good girl.” The shiver that runs through her amuses him immensely. Patting her cheek, he then turns away and leaves her to her own devices.

Returning to his phone, he sends a message to the courier, and minutes later there's a chime on the door. His men are good, and fast, and when he looks through the things in the box that was brought up to his place, he nods in contentment. The things she left in the club, a jacket, a phone, case stuffed with some money, some keys and her ID. He's surprised that she's actually 19, when she looks quite a bit younger. Not that it really matters. His eyes scan her name, memorizing it. Fits her.

There's a folder tucked into the side, all the information they could gather on her, and the more he reads, the wider his smile gets. She is perfect, a random pick, an instinct, and it has still been the best choice. Alone in the big city. He checks her phone, swipes through pictures and messages. There's only one new message, someone congratulating her. Not many social contacts, no Mom or Dad or other relatives. Does explain a few things though. The girl definitely lacked the presence of a proper authority figure in her life, or at least someone who could give her the attention she needs, someone to hug her even, guide her through life, tell her what's right or wrong. No wonder she's so overwhelmed with his advances, yet strangely compliant at the same time.

Daddy issues.

What a perfect little thing that found her way into his clutches. He turns the phone off and puts it back into the box, then locks it securely in the safe in his office, before he focuses on the bag that came with the delivery. Clothes he ordered for her, more underwear mostly, some dresses, shoes. He doesn't plan to take her out much, not yet, so she won't need too many clothes anyway. They're just an illusion of safety for now, something she feels more comfortable in, before he'll take that away as well.

Grabbing the bag, he returns to the bedroom – and freezes. The bed is empty, except for the array of sex toys on the blanket. Untouched, unmoved. And the girl is gone. Something hot rises inside him, his hand tightens around the straps of the bag. He checks the bathroom, also empty. When he opens the door to his walk-in closet, he hears a soft little gasp, before his eyes move down to the far back where she's curled up on her side, wide eyes staring at him from under her lashes.

Like a beaten animal – and he hasn't even done anything to her yet. Not really, anyway.

He puts the bag down on a shelf and approaches her slowly. The dildo he gave her lies in front of her, just as untouched as the rest. She curls up even more, a little ball of hair and limbs, white lace in stark contrast to the dark rug she's lying on. He crouches down, hands resting on his knees as he watches her.

“What are you doing here, baby?” he asks quietly. “Are you hiding from me?”

She sniffles, shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, wide eyes following his every move. Why is she so skittish all of a sudden? The drugs probably wore off. Poor thing.

He doesn't care. His hand reaches out and grabs her elbow, pulls her closer. A little yelp escapes her. He sits down on the floor and pulls her between his legs, she struggles against him but his fingers close around her arm, squeezing harder than he intended. She winces, a deep shudder rushing through her small body when he drapes her legs over his thigh, making her lean against him. One arm securely around her, holding her with enough authority that she stops squirming, he raises the other hand and grabs her chin, makes her look at him.

“What happened?” he asks, looking at her, scanning her face, fear and shock evident on it.

She averts her eyes, chewing on her lip. He squeezes her chin.

“Look at me.”

She does, with a soft little whine, blinking rapidly, eyes glistening as she meets his gaze. “M'sorry...” she mumbles.

“For what?” His voice is stern, and she frowns at his tone.

“For... for not... doing... what you told me...” she whispers, the first tear falling from her lashes. “I... I couldn't...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Her cheeks are bright red by now, her eyes moving over his face in frantic little flutters. “Felt... wrong...”

He watches her, letting go of her chin to move his hand straight between her legs. She flinches and yelps when his fingertips brush against her panties. The fabric is a little damp, warm against his touch. He doesn't hesitate and slips a finger under the hem, testing the waters. She turns her head away, whining softly as her blush spreads over her shoulders. “Do you need my help?” he whispers.

She only stiffens in his hold as his finger glides along her slit. Warm, wetter than he expected. He doesn't know why she was so stressed about this task or thinking she failed him. She's perfectly responsive. His lips brush against her temple.

“Tell me you need me to help you...” he breathes against her.

Her thighs twitch. “I... I need you to... to help me...” she mumbles out, burying her face in his chest in a little gesture of embarrassment. So fucking cute.

“Good girl,” he hums and kisses her forehead while his finger slips between her folds, gathers her slick and promptly dips into her entrance.

She flinches, but keeps quiet, leaning into him as he nudges her legs apart with his thumb. His finger slips in and out of her, her tight walls gripping him in a way that makes his cock throb. Her wetness gathers around him, quiet squelching sounds filling his ear. She lets out little noises of discomfort, barely-there whines, almost-sobs but in a way that doesn't seem too distressed. She's slowly adjusting, relaxing in his hold, her breaths deeper.

His thumb finds her clit, and when he pushes gently on it, she wails a little louder, her legs trembling, her small hands gripping the front of his shirt as she melts into him more. He keeps drawing tight circles around her nub, his digit pushing deep, in and out, faster, her wetness runs over his hand. The moment she becomes really still, a sharp inhale cutting through the air, he stops, pulls away, and she looks up with her lips parted, almost pouty, eyebrows furrowed, disappointed.

He smirks at her and brings his wet finger to her lips. She doesn't fight it when he slips it into her mouth, rubs it over her tongue and along her gums, pushes deeper. She freezes again, stares at him, but then she closes her lips around his finger and sucks, her tongue flicking around it, licking up her own juices. He pulls it out with a wet pop and leans down, capturing her mouth for a quick, deep kiss, sucking on her tongue, tasting her. She melts into him, clinging to him, but as soon as she starts to relax again, he lets go, leans back, leans around her to grab the dildo still lying behind her on the floor.

“Here,” he says and puts the small pink object into her hand. “If you want to finish it, do it with this.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, fingers curling around the toy, her face flushed. And then she shakes her head, catching him off guard.

“No?” he whispers, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Her breaths are loud through her nose as she holds his gaze, not saying anything.

He narrows his eyes. His first instinct is to grab the toy and shove it deep into her tight pussy himself, but he refrains, pushes her off his lap and stands, then grabs her wrist and drags her out of the closet. She stumbles after him and yelps when he throws her onto the bed.

Scrambling to her knees, her lips parted and trembling, she stares at him with her eyes wide in shock. He ignores her for now and walks to the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he retrieves a little teardrop shaped object, bright pink as well, smooth silicone with a little antenna.

A high-pitched squeal escapes her as he grabs her and pushes her onto her stomach, one large hand on her lower back, holding her down as she starts to squirm. “Stay still or this'll be more uncomfortable than it should be,” he tells her through gritted teeth. She stiffens, her breaths loud and frantic as she white-knuckles the sheets.

He moves the toy between her ass cheeks, pleased to see the butt plug is still in place. Nudging it slightly, he makes her wince. Pushing her legs apart a bit more with his knee, he slides her underwear aside, grabs her thigh to steady her and lets the small vibrator glide between her slick folds, and it's only a little push of his thumb before it slips into her, swallowed up by the tense muscles of her pussy. She lets out a strained whine. He wipes his palm over her mound gently, then tugs on the fat string until he finds the thicker bit at the end. The button clicks audibly when he presses it, and she gasps when the first vibrations shake her body. It's low, but still definitely overwhelming for her.

He puts her thong back in place and grabs her elbow, dragging her off the bed. Her legs are trembling, the low hum between her twitching thighs barely audible, but he hears it, sees her reaction to it, feels his blood pumping into his cock, the throbbing almost painful, and he wonders why he's taking his time with her. He could have had her last night, this morning, any time he wanted, fucked her hard and mercilessly, any hole he desired, and yet he waits, eases her into it, with a patience (or restraint) that surprises himself.

Sighing loudly, he grabs her hand and leads her out of the bedroom, she follows him on shaking limbs, too stunned to protest now. They reach the open kitchen, and he grabs her waist and sets her on the island, hears the faint clanging noise when the base of her plug hits the marble top. Spreading her legs, he steps between them, braces one arm on either side of her, stares down at her darkly.

Her eyes are wide, glistening, shock and uncertainty on her face, but there's also a deep blush and a tightness to her lips as she fights the sensations pulsing through her small body. Her hands fidget between her legs, a nervous little gesture. He rips them away, tells her to sit on them. She does with a bit of hesitation as she watches him with bated breath. He leans in, lets his breath fan over her cheek, then kisses the corner of her mouth, and there's a jerk in her neck as she turns her head, trying to meet his lips.

He pulls away before that, exhaling through his nose. His hands move over her legs, thumbs brushing along her inner thighs until he pushes them against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her wetness seeps past it already, staining the white satin bit, and he licks his lips at the sight. His restraint is slipping, he can't help it, he can smell her arousal, and it's driving him insane.

In one swift motion he grabs her hip, pulls her to the edge and leans down to press his mouth to her inner thigh, quickly kissing up the soft skin to where the little pink antenna pokes out of her. His free hand tugs at it, then he drags her panties aside and closes his lips around her folds. She yelps softly, body jerking against him. His fingers dig into her flesh, hold her in place as he laps up along her slit, gathers her sweet wetness on his tongue, drinks her up like a man parched.

She whimpers when he sucks on her clit, teeth grazing her soft, sensitive skin while he fumbles with the toy and presses the button a few more times, feeling the vibrations increasing, her hips jerking, thighs pressing against his head. Her noises are getting louder, helpless whines and mewls as she squirms on the counter, hands still squished under her legs while he continues to eat her out with a passion that he hasn't felt in ages.

Holding her with one hand, he tries to counteract her uncontrollable twitches, while his other hand rubs over her thigh before his index finger pokes at her entrance, following the toy inside. It's thrumming hard against her tense muscles, and he pushes it around a little with his finger before he finds the right spot, and that's when she really wails, body spasming against him, the heels of her feet thudding loudly into the cabinet as she tries to ground herself somehow.

He holds the toy pressed to her g-spot, still sucking on her clit, eyes moving up to watch her lose it in front of him. She's arching her back, head tilted upwards, chest pushed out, arms trembling before she can't keep her composure any longer and pulls her hands from under her legs and grabs his hair, two sets of small fingers with an iron grip that surprises him. Either to push him away or hold him right there, he isn't sure. Whatever the case, he lets her, gives her that one moment of control.

Her walls tighten around the toy and his finger, rhythmic clenching, her orgasm is so close, she's right on the edge, and it's that moment that he hooks his finger around the toy and pulls it out, leaning back, slipping from her suddenly limp fingers, and leaves her throbbing and panting, watches her deflate as her orgasm slips away again. A whine escapes her, and she falls backwards onto the counter, body convulsing without release, hiding her flushed face behind her shaking hands.

He straightens himself, licks his lips and then his finger, puts the vibrating toy on the counter before he turns it off. She's sobbing now, overwhelmed and left hanging. Poor thing. But it's not over yet.

Hooking his hands under her arms, he hoists her off the counter and pushes her down on her knees in front of him. She's too surprised to react, slowly lowers her hands and looks up at him, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Without a word or command, he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants, then snaps his fingers at her. Despite her trembling state, she follows the order instantly, automatically, that inborn desire to please stirring within her, when her small hands move up to push his pants and underwear down enough to free his erection.

The initial touch is almost enough to push him to the edge and over, but he braces himself, puts his hands on his hips and watches her as she closes her fingers around his length, slowly stroking up and down like he's shown her. Her eyes stay on him, watching him closely, and he tilts his head, pressing his lips into a thin line, a slight furrow between his eyebrows. He sees her swallowing, and barely a second later, her lips brush against his hot skin, the contact enough to coax a little groan out of him.

He watches her closely as she moves her lips up and down his shaft, tongue licking along his bulging veins, circling his tip, flicking over his slit, before she opens her mouth and takes him deeper. She's a little hesitant, careful, one hand still on his girth, the other braced against his thigh as she slowly bobs her head, lips closed around his tip, cheeks hollowed, the little suction really tempting his self-control. He wants her to find her own pace, get better on her own, learn to pleasure him properly, but he also really wants to fuck her throat and make her choke on his cock. The struggle is real.

His hands move to her head, a gentle little caress, fingers sliding through her hair, slowly nudging her closer, she shifts on her knees, the hand on his thigh pulling her into him. Her eyes are closed now, and he can see tears forming under her lashes as she keeps moving her head back and forth, the hand that's tight around his girth keeping her from taking him deeper. He feels her warm mouth, that little tongue flicking around his tip, hot and wet, sucking softly, almost meditatively, and he can't help it, he bucks his hips slightly against her, his cockhead poking into her cheek when she turns her head with a little muffled whine.

One of his hands moves down to grab her chin, holding her in place, head slightly tilted, as he repeats the same motion, pushing into her mouth, watching her cheek bulge. He hasn't noticed it before, but she's a natural at keeping her teeth out of the way, her jaw opened wide enough to allow him to slip in and out fairly easily. Her eyelids flutter open, and she meets his gaze, her eyes glistening, pupils dilated more than he has expected. She's enjoying this, huh?

He smirks at her, moves her head a little and tilts her chin up before he pumps his hips a little harder against her, more of his cock slipping into her small mouth. She stiffens, both hands now gripping the fabric of his pants, bracing, a sliver of panic in her eyes. He watches her closely, the grip on her chin hard as he concentrates, holds back, fights the urge to just fuck her cute little face. His breaths are quick and loud through his nose.

She holds still, doesn't fight it, and he uses that submission to move faster and eventually slips deeper, feeling his tip prodding the back of her throat. She gags almost immediately, a sudden reflex, her body convulsing against him, fingers digging into his legs, and he lets her pull back with a deep cough, saliva dripping from her lips. But he only lets her relax for so long, before he pushes his cock back into her mouth, deeper, to that spot once more, and she gags again, spit filling her mouth, coating his tip, yet this time he holds her head in place, and she lets out a pained little howl, muffled but clearly distressed.

Sighing, he grips her hair and pulls her back again, lets her catch her breath, swallow the excess spit. Tears stream down her face, her eyes are red, eyebrows furrowed, a helpless expression mixed with something like indignation looking up at him. A low laugh escapes him, and he grips her chin and pulls her back, cock slipping into her mouth, her tongue scraping along the underside, frantic little breaths through her nose, warm on his skin.

“Relax,” he tells her, and strangely enough it's that command that lets him slip deeper, past her gag reflex, further into her tight throat. It's only a few seconds though before she gags yet again, fingernails sinking into his legs, that little uncontrollable twitch as her body fights the new sensation of having her throat stuffed. She gurgles, desperate to breathe, too panicked to relax anymore. He pushes her away, and she splutters, spit and precum flying from her trembling lips, her shoulders shaking.

It takes all of him to loosen his grip on her, but when he lets go of her chin and her hair, inhaling deeply, she looks up almost surprised. Bracing his arms on the counter behind her, he closes his eyes, fighting the urge to make her choke again. That feeling when her throat tenses around his tip, squeezes him, it's something he enjoys a little too much, almost as much as watching her suffer through it, with her tears streaming down her face and her hands digging into his legs, that desperate struggle for control.

He'll force that urge right out of her, soon. Another time.

“Suck,” he grunts instead, standing still as he leans over her.

She resumes her ministrations, one hand around his girth, pumping and stroking, while she closes her lips around his tip again, sucking and licking it, keeping it far away from the back of her throat. She's shaky and sloppy, her wet slurping noises echoing through the room, her body still trembling, but she somehow manages to bring him right to the edge after all. He feels his balls tightening, his stomach tensing up, his cock throbbing in her hold. His hands itch, clenched into fists on the counter, his body shivering. So close. So fucking close...

A deep groan escapes his throat, and he leans back abruptly, grips her hair and pulls her off him, a sharp inhale coming from the girl beneath him. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, and he just ignores her, hooks his hands around her elbows and pulls her to her feet. She's that tiny body he can manhandle however he wants, and she ends up on her stomach on the counter, short legs dangling off the edge, feet kicking before he cages her in, one hand on her lower back, the other moving straight to the little shiny knob sitting between her plump ass cheeks.

Before she can comprehend what's happening or try to fight him, he drags her panties aside and pulls the plug out with a plop, puts it on the counter with a clang, before he grips his throbbing cock and pushes the tip against her sphincter. She lets out a surprised wail, her hands reaching back to swat him away, but he only grabs them and bends her arms behind her back, held by one large hand. She still struggles as he pushes further, forcing his tip deeper. He doesn't have time to prepare her properly, he's close to exploding.

She whines, writhing on the counter despite his unrelenting hold, and he watches her tight muscles give way to him, the grip almost as good as her tensing throat. His crown slips in, and he stops, letting it rest there as he strokes his shaft hard and fast, until he feels that tension finally dissolve. He comes with a deep grunt, arching his head back, feeling his cock throb and twitch in his hand and in her ass.

Spurt after spurt shoots into her tightness, filling her up until the first drops seep past the tight ring of muscles that clench around him involuntarily as she squirms helplessly, sobbing softly. When he relaxes against her, shoulders sagging, the grip on her arms loosening, he wishes he'd prepared her better, made her more pliant, open her up properly to take more of him. But this'll do for now. Once the twitching subsides, he gently pulls his cock out, watching her ass gape for a moment, his thick seed slipping out almost immediately.

He pushes it back in, feeling her tense muscles close around his finger. Then he grabs the plug and brings it back into position, holding her down again as she starts squirming more, the cold metal slipping into place, plugging up his warm cum. He exhales deeply once he is done, and when he lets go of her and steps back, he can't help but slap her plump cheek once for good measure.

She sobs louder, but remains lying on her stomach, legs dangling off the edge, immobile, all the fight gone from her body. He watches her as he puts his spent dick back into his pants. “What a good girl you are,” he whispers, noticing a wave of goosebumps rippling over her skin. His hands are on her round rear, gently sliding up and down, thumbs teasing between the cheeks. He fixes her thong, nudges the plug, smirks when she flinches at the motion.

Then he grabs her waist and pulls her off the counter, turning her so he can scoop her up into his arms. Despite her reluctance and the fact that she's still crying softly, she leans against him, needy little fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. No matter how hard she fights him, fights the sensations and experiences he gives her, she is clearly craving this, his attention, the care he gives her afterwards, the gentle moments after however rough he treats her.

It's a good dynamic. It'll work, he's sure. She will be absolutely perfect.

He carries her into the bedroom, carefully putting her down on the bed. She immediately rolls onto her side, knees pulled up to her chest, wiping at her wet face, avoiding his gaze as he watches her closely. When he leans down, she flinches, but he only grabs the edge of the blanket and drapes it over her small body.

“Rest now,” he tells her, straightening back up. “I'll order us some food.”

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

End notes: Just a little side note on where this story is set: it could be literally anywhere (where there are skycrapers or a downtown area with taller buildings). I did not have a specific place in mind, could be any major American city, could be a bigger European city, anywhere you like to think of. It doesn't really matter anyway. (And if it is set in America, just imagine his club to be one of those more lax ones where the drinking age isn't 21 or at least nobody cares about it.)

Also, you may have guessed it, but our male protagonist is a little bit more than just a nightclub owner. I won't go into too many details, just know he's influencial, if you'd like to call it that. And definitely intimidating enough for anyone to bow before him, not just our poor girl who might just be a little in over her head at this point.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #older man younger woman #size difference #praise k!nk #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #original fiction

286 notes · View notes

sweetbunpura · 3 months ago

Note

Yuu singing defying gravity from Wicked. Listening to it and thought Yuu.

I LOVE THE WICKED OST!

I didn't see the new one, but I'm gonna use the OG one~

Vil crossed his arms as he walked down the empty hallways. With VDC tribe picked, he was starting to wonder if this team would really be the one to take the gold. Upon Rook's request, he had chosen the Heartslabyul's spudlings, even if they were untrained and with hardly a note of coordination between them. Jamil and Kalim were perfect when it came to movement, but their singing needed work. That just left Epel, since he knew Rook and himself were fine on that front.

"I'm truly given such an underdog team, aren't I?" Vil sighed.

"Something has changed within me."

Vil paused as he heard a voice from a classroom behind him. He backed up and spotted the door that had been cracked opened. Pushing it open, Vil poked his head inside to see....Yuu? She held a broom in her hands as she sang in a small voice before it started to pick up in power and range.

"I'm through accepting limits, cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but til i try I can not know."

Vil could hear the imaginary band rise in power as she continued.

"I'd soon buy defying gravity!"

He watched as she acted out the scene, playing both parts flawlessly. She hit the notes as correctly as she could, but Vil could hear the strain in her voice.

"So if you care to find me, look towards the western skies!" Yuu smiled. "As someone told me lately, 'Everyone deserves a change to fly!'" She spun around using the broom. "And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free! To those who'd ground me, take a message back from me!" Her voice raised in pitch. "Tell them how I am defying gravity! I'm flying high, defying gravity! And soon I'll match them in renown!" Yuu took a deep breath. "And nobody in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is every gonna bring...."

'C'mon, Potato, hit the note.'

"Me down!"

Vil found himself stepped further into the room.

"Bring me down!"

He may not know what the full context of the song was, but Vil could guess from how powerful she was singing it.

'Once more, Yuu.'

"Aaaaahhhoooahhh!"

Yuu ended the song with a deep breath and a cough. She shook her head and twirled the boom around.

"Try not to ruin your voice, Homura." She chastised herself.

Vil started clapping, causing her to jump and star at him with wide eyes.

"Schoenheit!? When did!?" She looked around wildly. "Y-You didn't hear any of that, did you?"

"Not all of it, but enough to cement my decision."

"Huh?"

"You're joining the VDC, Potato."

"Huh!?"

#twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #yuu homura #twst fic #thorn answers

206 notes · View notes

muwapsturniolo · 10 months ago

Text

✯𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲✯

IN WHICH…We experience a toxic relationship between a drug dealer and his baby momma

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! Toxic behaviors, slight domestic abuse (not really but I’m putting it as a warning anyway), drugs, sex, broken household

Words highlighted in orange is Chris and how he connects with the song. Pink highlighted words is Y/n (aka you) and how you connect with the song. Purple highlighted words is how both you and Chris (or others in the story) connect with the song.

Chris sighs as the beaten-up screen door squeaks open, the hot LA air immediately rushing past his face. He lets it close by itself as he walks along the porch, taking a seat in his chair. He sets down his cup and sparks his blunt, closing his eyes as he inhales the grape-flavored tobacco leaf and weed.

The sound of laughter catches his attention, making him open his eyes. He scans the lawn briefly before he lands on two bodies rolling around in the yard, one bigger than the other.

He whistles catching both of their attention, the younger one gasping in excitement.

"Mama! Daddy is awake!"

Chris catches the eye of the child's mother and sighs.

I know this ship is sailed and this is dead I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP," yeah

He can see the irritation in her eyes, a feeling he has been all to familiar with for the last three years. He doesn’t know when it started but if he had to guess, it was a month after Kehlani was born, their relationship taking a turn for the worst.

The relationship was dead and he knew it, he knew from the beginning they wouldn't last. But he did it for her, he tried to make things work but it seemed like she was against him.

Kehlani runs as fast as her little legs can take her, diving right into Chris's lap. He laughs and quickly moves the blunt away so he won't burn the four-year-old, or get smoke in their face.

I know you gave up long time ago Boy, I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP"

Y/n watches Kehlani and Chris giggle and play with each other on the porch, her heart sinking. She hates to admit it but she was envious of her daughter having all of Chris's attention.

It seemed like he hated her.

From the moment Chris laid eyes on the child, she was pushed back on the backburner. It was difficult to handle, especially going through postpartum.

She tried to do better, act better, hoping Chris would give her an ounce of attention, but he would just ignore her.

She knew Chris had given up on their relationship a long time ago, and it hurt. However, she has come to terms with it.

She stands up and brushes the grass and dirt off her pants, walking towards the home. She runs up the porch steps and frowns seeing the blunt near her child.

She snatches the four-year-old off of his lap and gives him a dirty look, “Momma I want to stay with Daddy!”

“No, it’s lunch time and then you need to nap.” She says getting ready to walk in the house.

She stops when she hears Chris’s voice, “Let her stay out here while you make us lunch.” She turns and sees Chris putting the blunt in his mouth, his eyes trained on her.

“I said no, Finish your blunt and come make your own food.”

She opens the screen door and steps foot into the house, only to freeze hearing Chris’s mumbling.

“Fucking bitch.”

All I need's some Loving,

"Daddy, do you love me?" Kehlani's words make Y/n chuckle to herself, a small smile ghosting her lips.

"Of course I do baby. I love you with my whole life and beyond."

The four-year-olds next words make Y/n stop in her tracks, "Do you love momma the same amount?"

She knows what Chris is going to say, he's going to mask it to the child but he's going to make it clear that he doesn't love her.

She grabs the plates of food and starts walking to the table.

"I love momma a lot, the same way I love you"

His words catch Y/n off guard and she trips and falls, the plates breaking and the food going everywhere. Chris quickly sets Lani on the couch, telling her not to move before he rushes into the kitchen.

"What the fuck happened?" He asks as he sees Y/n surrounded by broken plates and food. "I-Im sorry, I ju-" his eyes soften seeing her sniffling, her eyes glossy with salt water.

He inches forward, careful to avoid the sharp glass before kneeling in front of her. "Talk to me ma, what's wrong?"

"Y-you said you love me....you haven't said it in so long." She sobs out, her whole body shaking. He quickly pulls her into him, rubbing her back softly. "Shh, I know, and I'm sorry. You know I love you baby, I could never stop loving you."

She sobs even harder and grips Chris tightly,

That's all she ever wanted to hear.

"Why don't we order tonight?"

some fucking

"Shhh mama you don't wanna wake Lani up do you?" Chris asks, holding back a groan himself. Y/n moans quietly, her head thrown back in pleasure.

"Taking me so well mama's. Whose pussy is this?"

"Fuck! it's yours- all yours daddy!"

"That's right."

And you say this shit don't matter But we always goin' at it, ain't no trustin

"Why do we always fight?" Chris asks holding the girl in his arms. He can see the gears turning in her head, thinking of multiple reason as to why they fight, but she tells him it doesn't matter.

"But it does matter...all we do is fight." He thinks to himself.

I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'

It's times like this that make Y/n despise the father of her child. He never wants to address anything, he always wants to leave shit in the air, causing more arguments.

She doesn't want argument, she hates arguing.

She wants love, but he has to settle for sex to 'cure' their problems.

And we fussin' and we fight, and you always wonder why

Y/n scoffs as Chris continues to yell at her, "You always do this stupid shit Y/n! You wanna love me one minute, then you accuse me of fucking cheating and hating you!"

"Because you fucking do!" She screams at the top of her lungs. Chris stares at her with no emotion, used to her raising her voice at him.

"You asked me the other night why we always fussin' and fighting and it's because of you!" She stabs her finger in his chest. "You treat me like shit! I hear you calling me out my fucking name, I catch you giving me dirty looks!"

"That doesn't mean I hate you! And it sure as hell doesn't mean I cheated on you!"

Y/n smiles with tears in her eyes, " But it does Chris...I'm not dumb, I've seen the texts in your phone, I've seen you come home with hickeys...and I won't forget the night you came home and told me you cheated on me, because my body changed after I gave birth to your child!"

Chris's stomach falls to his ass as he watches Y/n begin to pack a bag.

"W-Where are you going?"

And my mama told me, "None of this should come as a surprise"

"It hurts so much! I do my best and it's never enough!" Y/n sobs into her mother's arms. She had packed a bag and left with Kehlani after her and Chris's argument, not wanting to spend another second with him.

"Baby none of this should come as a surprise. I've been told you this when you were younger after your daddy." Y/n looks up at her mother in confusion, her brows furrowed.

"W-what did you tell me?"

" love don't come easy, it don't come easy"

Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy

"Don't give up on it yet baby...I know you want it to be a plain and simple game but you have to work for it, the both of you."

Times get hard, but nothing's easy

Let's go out

Y/n approaches Chris in the kitchen who is currently measuring out weed. She sits across from him and waits for him to acknowledge her. "What do you want?" He sounds irritated, making Y/n nervous. She looks down and fiddles with her fingers.

"I was thinking we could go out...like a date... like we used to."

Let's try it out

Chris stops measuring the weed and looks at her, "it was just a th-ok." He shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

"Really?"

She smiles genuinely, something he hasn't seen her do in a long time. He stands up and walks over to her, rubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, lets try it out." She breaks out into a wide grin and jumps up, planting a fat kiss on his cheek.

You don't hear me out,

Y/n sighs as Chris tells her to be quiet. They were in the car driving home when somehow, an argument started. All she said was that maybe he shouldn't sell as much so they could spend more time with each other.

That's why you always run your mouth,

"You always have shit to say! You never shut the fuck up! It's always complaints and trying to fucking act better than me, and I'm sick of this shit! Just shut your fucking mouth!"

We been talking 'bout our love's runnin' out But you don't hear me out, yeah

"You don't fucking listen to me Chris! that's why I keep saying the same shit!" Y/n yells as they enter the house. She throws her heels in the corner and rushes towards the bedroom, grabbing a bag.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asks, his eyes set on her frantic figure throwing clothes in the bag. She ignores him and goes to Kehlani's room, beginning to pack more clothes.

"I'm leaving you, that's what I'm doing. I'm taking Kehlani and leaving you!" She tries to move past Chris but he stands in her way. "You're not fucking leaving me Y/n, and you're not taking my child!" She ignores him and goes to step to the side but he moves with her. He grabs her making her jerk back, "Don't fucking touch me! Let me go Chri-YOU'RE NOT FUCKING LEAVING ME!" He slams her against the wall.

She winces as her head bounces off the wall, looking at Chris in fright.

That's why you always run your mouth

Chris's grip remains tight on her arms, his breathing heavy. "You're not leaving me, and you're not taking Lani either...J-just stop." His voice breaks as he stares into her eyes.

And all I need's some Lovin',

"You can't leave me, you c-can't take Lani away from me, please." His eyes begin to sting as tears blur his vision. "I'm tired of this Chris" Y/n croaks, her throat closing as she begins to cry as well. He nods, understanding her words. "I know ma, I know and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry-" he wraps his arms around her waist and starts to kiss along her jawline.

some fuckin'

"Let me make it up to you...Let me show you how much I love you."

And the sex is still compatible But I ain't got no manual for trustin'

She knows she shouldn't, she shouldn't crave his touch, she shouldn't crave to be intimate with him. She should put her foot down and stand ten toes on her threat of leaving, but she doesn't.

Chris sees her hesitancy and continues to convince her, promising he will change, promising he will be more loving.

She doesn't know if she believes him, but she gives in anyway.

I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'

Y/n's head is pushed into the pillows as Chris slams into her repeatedly.

"Fuck, I love you so much Ma. Say it, say you love me."

"Fuck! I love you!" She reaches back, holding Chris's hand as his dick slides in and out of her dripping cunt.

You say something isn't right, only fuckin', gettin' high

"This feels weird" Y/n mumbles as she and Chris sit on the couch. They had put Lani to bed around an hour ago, and now they are on the couch watching TV. Chris looks down at the girl snuggled into his side, "What are you talking about Ma?"

She sits up and crosses her legs, playing with the fraying couch, "I mean...It seems like all we do is have sex and get high. We never sit with each other all cuddled up and relaxed, we're always arguing." Chris sighs and pulls the girl onto his lap, "Is that what you want to do? You want to only argue, have sex, and get high with me?" Y/n shakes her head, begging to play with his chain.

"Good, because I don't want to either."

And my daddy told me, "Hold your heart in order to survive"

"You have to do better son. For yourself, and your family." Chris sighs as he listens to his father's words. "I'm trying pops, I really am it's just hard."

"I know it is, but you have to hold your heart in order to survive. What I mean by that is that, your heart is your lifeline, without it you would die. Y/n is your lifeline son. Without her, you would destroy yourself. Hold her close, cherish her, water her like a flower so both you and your family can grow."

'Cause love don't come easy, it don't come easy Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy

Y/n couldn't do it anymore.

She was fed up with the toxic relationship, so she left. She left while Chris was out dealing, throwing bags in her car and fleeing to her mothers house with Lani.

When Chris came home and saw the note on the fridge, he broke down. Vases being broken, and tables being flipped over as well.

He couldn't believe she gave up this easily on them, on what they could be.

Love don't come easy, it don't come easy (No, no) It don't come easy

Chris bangs on the door, waiting for someone to answer. eventually, it does open and he sees the girl who has been avoiding him for a month now.

"Chris?" She questions in confusion. She never told him she was staying at her mother's home, so to see him was a surprise. She crosses her arms and looks down at her shoes, "what do you want?"

"I want you back."

"Chris I do-"

Times get hard, but nothing's easy

tears form in her eyes as she looks at the ring in the box.

"I-I know I haven't been the best to you. I've said some horrible things to and about you, I-I cheated, and all in all, I treated you like shit. I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. I-I want- no- I need you in my life. You're my heart, my lifeline, my everything. I don't know what I would do without you."

"I'll do better I promise! Things won't be easy, but I'm going to try... Just please don't leave me...Don't take my family away from me, don't give up on me."

Tell your man you trust him

Y/n accepted the proposal, allowing Chris to put the ring on her finger. She quickly brings him into a hug, sobbing softly. "I'll do better, I promise. You just have to trust me Ma. I'll give you the whole world if you just trust me."

"I trust you"

Tell your girl you love her

"I love you so much Ma, I love you so much." He whispers as he rubs her back.

Tell your dad you miss him

"Daddy you're back!" Lani shouts as she runs up and hugs his leg. Chris sniffles and picks her up, wrapping one arm around her and the other around Y/n.

"I missed you so much!"

And call your mom and thank her

Y/n walks away from the father and daughter duo, calling her mother to thank her for being a good guide and letting her and Lani stay with her for the month.

Tell your daughter you love her

"I love you so much Lani, with my whole life." Chris expresses as he holds her close, grateful to have the child back in his arms.

Tell yourself you got this

It's unknown to both adults that their minds are reeling as they drive home, both of them giving themselves a mental pep talk.

"You got this, it will be different this time. everything will be better."

'Cause these times get hard, but nothing's easy

They come to a red light and Chris looks over to Y/n who is staring down at her engagement ring.

"I love you," he expresses as he takes hold of her hand.

"I love you too Chris."

idk how i feel about this so if yall don't like it, ion blame you 😭

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n

407 notes · View notes