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flemingsfreckles · 8 months ago

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Perfect To Me (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Jessie notices you acting differently, when she learns why, she’s determined to help.

Warnings: body image issues, self deprecation, self consciousness, some self hatred, SMUT (18+), somewhat controlling Jessie, mirror sex, edging, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap on sex,

WC: 3.0k

Today had just been one of those days, you woke up and felt wrong. It started when you went into the bathroom, seeing two large pimples bright red on your face. Then when you changed you couldn’t help but notice every little detail wrong with your body, stretch marks, scars, blemishes, all of it, you hated it. You tried to get dressed, everything feeling too tight on your body caused you to spiral even further.

Jessie was quick to notice you were off, that morning opting to wear a sweatshirt and pants despite the warm weather. She then noticed at training the way you hurried off to the bathroom to change, unlike normal. She noticed you were frustrated at practice, having a rough day overall it seemed. On the way home you didn’t say anything, silently watching out the window, thinking about everything that went wrong.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” She questions you as she throws the car in park in the driveway.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” You dismiss her concerns for you.

Her hand comes over the console and finds its way to your thigh. “Babe, talk to me. You’ve been quiet all day, I’m worried about you.”

You loved Jessie, she had been a perfect girlfriend for the past year, but she was insistent. She always wanted to talk things through, it got on your nerves, sometimes you had to sit in self loathing first. “I feel like shit about myself Jessie! I’m bloated, nothing fits, everything is too tight, everything seems wrong, everyone else is running around with their toned stomachs and perfect legs, I have stretch marks, I have acne, I hate myself.”

“Hey!” Jessie snaps. “You’re not allowed to speak about my girlfriend like that!”

“I can talk about her however the fuck I want to, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.” You taunt Jessie as you unbuckled and closed the door hard behind you.

Jessie follows you in the house. She lets you be for the next few hours, keeping her distance knowing you just needed some time alone to work through your feelings. And you worked through those feelings, as best you could, still not loving your body, still annoyed at the way everything fit, but better than you were this morning.

Your uncomfortable feelings with your body fade slightly as the day goes on, you start to forget what a terrible start to your morning you had. You knew you were overreacting, feeling just overwhelmed with the day, you took it out on yourself, you always did. What you didn’t know was Jessie hadn’t forgotten the way you had moved away from the mirror at home, the way she saw you staring for too long at your thighs and stomach, the way you closed yourself in the bathroom at home and at work to change. She was determined to make you feel better, even if you had already done it for yourself.

Which is how she ended up feeling you up as the two of you attempted to watch a movie. The movie is quickly forgotten as she pulls you up onto her lap to straddle her. Her hands on your waist, pulling you into her, encouraging your grinding motion. Your hands run through her curls as your lips slide against each other.

She reaches for your shirt, you nod hard against her, letting her know it was okay to pull it up and over your head. Your self conscious feeling comes back slightly as Jessie’s eyes make their way across your body. She then slides her finger tips into the waistband of your pants.

“Can I?”

“Just touch me already Jess, don’t take them off.” You think you’re being subtle, just hoping she’ll think you’re desperate enough for her touch that she shouldn’t bother taking off your pants. It’s less that you’re desperate and more you didnt feel like being completely naked.

“Okay babe.” Her hand slides past your waistband and pushes aside your panties. “Fuck.” She whispers as she feels the arousal between your lips.

“Please Jess.” Maybe you actually were desperate for her touch. She brings her fingers up to your clit, beginning to play with it exactly how she knew to. Jessie would usually tease a bit, giving you soft touches, moving away for a moment, slowing down, but today she was doing all the right things. It was as if she was trying to get you off as quickly as possible. You ground down onto her fingers, increasing the friction and pleasure.

“Fuck Jessie.”

“You feel so good on my fingers baby.” She groans into you and your grip on her hair tightens.

“Babe I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

She smirks up at you. “I know.”

“Oh fuck.” You drop your head to her shoulder, letting out a string of moaned profanities from the pleasure of being right on the edge of release. And then you're quickly cursing Jessie as she takes away her fingers, removing them completely from your waistband.

“What the hell?” your head snaps up to look at her.

“Get up.” She taps your thighs and you move off of her reluctantly wishing she would finish what she just started. You were also still pissed that she took away your orgasm.

“Take the rest off and join me in the bedroom.” She looks at you, her eyes are soft, pupils are big. She turns and disappears into your bedroom. You assumed she was putting down the waterproof blanket, her strap, and maybe a few other toys.

Wanting to get your orgasm, you quickly remove your clothing, too focused on getting off that you don’t care as much about being naked. You leave your pants, underwear, and bra on the couch with your discarded shirt. You make your way to Jessie, walking into the bedroom.

Jessie is sitting on the bed against the headboard, she was now just in her sports bra and boxers, legs spread out on the bed. You notice there isn’t a blanket on the bed, she didn’t have out any of the toys you shared. You then noticed the large mirror usually in the corner of your bedroom had been moved to the end of the bed.

“Sit.” She patted the spot between her legs, you obeyed, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between her thighs. You start to move to straddle her, just as you had been on the couch, when she stops you.

“Nope, turn around, back to me.” You turn yourself, you bare back pressing against Jessie’s covered chest. You now realize the placement of the mirror, so you could see the two of you from where you sat together on the bed, Jessie’s head resting just above your shoulder.

“Good girl.” As you get settled where she wanted you Jessie praises you. She uses her arms to uncross your own, removing them from where they hid your chest, pulling them down and placing your hands on her thighs. She then uses her own legs to hook around yours spreading your legs, leaving you completely exposed in front of the mirror. “Now before I help you finish what I started out there, we’re doing this.” She gestures to the mirror.

“Look at yourself.” You don’t follow that instruction. Keeping your eyes glued to the bed sheets, not wanting to see your naked body in the mirror. Jessie gives you a second to look up, when you don’t her hand is hard on your chin, forcing your face up. You close your eyes, “I said, look at yourself.” Her grasp is hard on your face, a grasp that is demanding and slightly harsh.

You do as she says, opening your eyes, only your eyes find her eyes in the mirror, still avoiding looking at your body.

“Babe, don’t make this harder than it should be.” Her whisper is gentle in your ear, a contrast to her harsh grip and tone from before. “Look at my hands if that’s easier.” She adds before she removes her grip from your chin placing her hands on your shoulders.

“See these babe?” She squeezes your shoulders, “I love your strong shoulders and arms, I love how they hold me tight, how they hold me when we dance in the kitchen, I love how they toss me on the bed before you have your way with me. I appreciate your arms everyday.” Her hands rub from your shoulders down to your hands and back up, you watch, keeping your eyes on her hands. Her lips place kisses on each shoulder. “Tell me one thing you love about your arms and shoulders, pretty girl.”

“Um,” your eyes fall for a minute, Jessie’s hand finds your chin, gently pushing it to remind you to look up. “I love that they get to hug you, after a goal when you come and jump into my arms, they get to hold you up.”

“Good job baby.” She turned her head down to you, gently guiding you to kiss her. “Keep being a good girl and you’ll get a reward.”

Her hands then slide down, finding your chest. “Mhhh” she hums as she grasps each of your tits firmly in her hand. Her actions have you letting out a small moan. “I mean I think it’s obvious why I love these, but I love how you react when I touch them, when I drag my tongue over here.” She lets her fingers drag across your nipples making you arch into her touch slightly. “I love how you let me fall asleep with my head on them, they really make the best pillows.” Her hands remain on your chest, she is playing with your nipples and the surrounding skin. “Your turn.” She tells you.

You’re stuck, your shoulders and arms were easy, you didn’t fully despise them, your chest, and frankly the rest of your body was going to be harder.

“I dunno.” You look down. Your hands moved down to start to pick at the skin on your thighs.

“Hey,” Jessie pulls your hands away from where they were picking. “I’ll keep going then. I love the way they look in your sports bra, I love the pretty little noises you make when I play with them, I love how you let me mark them with my mouth, I love-“

“Okay stop.” You gently chew your lip, looking at Jessie through the mirror, her gaze is strong on you. “I like how they look in that yellow top that you like so much.”

“That’s perfect baby.” She gives you a nod and kisses the side of your head.

Her hands trail down. Settling on your waist and stomach. You took a deep breath, eyes still looking at Jessie’s face.

“Look at my hands.” She tells you. You drop your eyes lower, looking at where her hands were spread on your own stomach.

“I love your stomach, your waist. I love being able to hold you tight around the waist, I love how your hips look when you tuck in your jersey,”

“I have stretch marks.” You interrupt her, you don’t mean to but the words just come out. You tense, expecting to get scolded by Jessie. Only she doesn’t scold you, she just calmly starts speaking again.

“Yeah baby, you do.” Her fingers gently drag over the lines you were so insecure about. “But guess what, so does everyone, you’re strong because of those marks, you grew, you’re an athlete, you push this body to the limit everyday. You’re making it stronger, faster, and sometimes that means your muscles grow faster than your skin can keep up, so you get these beautiful marks.”

Her hands slide down to the inside of your thighs where more stretch marks sat. They rest, sitting just above where you still desperately needed her touch.

“Look at these legs baby. So strong, they’re able to carry you running around for hours. You’re able to squat, jump, and run, because of these legs.” Her hand is now on the outside of your thigh. “These legs help carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch. These legs piggybacked Sam around for 45 minutes so she could say hi to fans after playing a whole 90’ minutes because she didn’t want to deal with her crutches, these legs score game winning goals.”

Her hands squeeze tight, reassuring but also nearing painful. “Now since we are talking about your strong, muscular, beautiful legs, you owe me something you love about your stomach and your legs.”

“I like that my legs let me play soccer and that they’ve let me travel all over and see incredible things.” You stop and stare at your stomach, looking for something good to say about it. “Um. I like my core because it makes me a better athlete, and it’s useful for other activities.” You give Jessie a knowing look through the mirror. It took you and Jessie only a couple times to learn how much core strength is required to be on the giving end of the strap on you shared.

“That’s perfect, you’ve been such a good girl.” Jessie’s voice suddenly deeper. “You did so well baby. Do you want your reward?”

You nod against her, still making eye contact through the mirror.

“What do you want, baby?” She brings her hands down on your thighs so that her index fingers are sitting in the crease between your thigh and pussy.

“Your fingers. Please.” You were ready for her to fuck you, having edged you just to make you sit for what felt like an hour, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Of course my love.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Anything for my perfect girl.”

Her hands move, her left moving a finger to your entrance, slowly running in up and down to collect some wetness before she gently pushes it inside of you. It’s only one finger but it feels good with how turned on you are from being edged.

“Add another please Jessie.” You manage to get out.

“Anything for you.” She pushed into you with two fingers thrusting them both gently, curling once they’re deep inside of you. Her right hand now settles with just her middle finger on your clit. Unlike before she starts slow, gently tracing around the bud.

Her mouth starts making its way down your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses along the side, it makes you sigh, you loved the feeling of her lips on your neck, it was always so sensitive, the way she would suck hard enough to feel it but soft enough not to leave a mark. The way Jessie would drag her teeth over your skin, biting you softly knowing you liked the pain. Her mouth on your neck was heaven.

With her mouth pleasuring your neck and her hands between your thighs, it wasn’t long until your legs were shaking and you were moaning Jessie’s name. Feeling yourself reach the edge again you throw your head back, shutting your eyes.

“Eyes open, watch yourself baby, watch yourself feel good.” Jessie’s shoulder nudges your head up. You listen, but instead of watching yourself you make intense eye contact with Jessie.

She removed her hand from your clit and stalls her fingers inside of you just as your legs start to try and close on her hands. You let out a high pitched whine.

“Do you love your body?” She stares at you through the mirror.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I love my body.”

“Look at yourself when you say it.” Her hand, previously pleasuring your clit, comes up to hold your chin again. You can smell your arousal on her finger tips. Your eyes leave hers and find yourself staring back at you. “Now, tell me you love yourself again.”

“I love my body.” Her hand drops from your chin.

“Again.”

“I love my body.” Her finger finds its way back to your clit, just touching it, not moving.

“Good girl, again.”

“I love my body.” She starts circling with her fingers, pleasure immediately flowing through you again.

“Again baby.”

“I love my body.” Now she’s gently thrusting her fingers again, no where near the force or speed that she had before but it was better then them sitting still inside of you.

“Good girl, one more and I’ll let you cum.”

“I love my body.”

“That’s my girl, you can cum, I promise I won’t tease you this time.” With her promise her fingers inside of you return their vigor from before, immediately feeling yourself clenching tightly around them. Her finger in your clit increases its pressure and you watch yourself fall apart in the mirror. You’re able to watch your orgasm start before the pleasure becomes too much and you have to shut your eyes and throw your head back.

Jessie praises you as she works you through your orgasm. Her words spur you on further, her lips hot against your ear. “That’s it pretty girl, so good, I love making you feel good. You look so pretty cumming around my fingers.”

As you come down from your orgasm you blink your eyes open, finding Jessie’s eyes in the mirror.

“I love you.”

“What do you want? A bath? To cuddle? A nap?” Jessie was always attentive with aftercare even if you had vanilla sex, she always checked in, seeing what you needed and you’d return the favor.

“A bath would be nice.” Jessie nods and slides her legs off of yours, finally allowing you to close your legs. She moves off the bed, holding out a hand to you. You get off the bed with her assistance and walk into the bathroom together. Jessie starts running the bath, putting in your favorite lavender soap. She moved to get out a towel for you. When you notice she only grabs one towel you frown at her.

“What's wrong?”

“Can you join me?” You point to the bath, a pout on your face.

“Of course.” Jessie reaches back into the cabinet for another towel. She comes over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, holding you tight. “I love you, you’re perfect.” She whispers.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #Jessie Fleming blurb #jessie fleming smut

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daengtokki · 6 months ago

Text

𝐼’𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓎𝑒𝓉…

Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: 1.8k

rating: explicit/18+ (contains: jealous reader, Seungmin teasing, f receiving oral, over stimulation)

────────────⭒♡

“Jagiyaaa, come here…what’s the matter?”

You set yourself on the far side of the couch, paying no attention to how your post-shower towel falls around you, “nothing, I’m okay…” and look absently at your phone.

“Why no hug?” He coos.

Of course he has to say it like that. He sits down gently and wraps his fingers around your ankle, “no hello kiss? I missed you.” You look up at him and shake him loose, but he grabs you again and squeezes. “Are you gonna be a little brat?”

The swiftness in the change of his voice makes you heat up, but you decide to stay strong against him, or attempt to. “No.” You grab the towel and tighten it around your chest.

“Then tell me what the problem is, unless you want it forced out of you”

Head still down, you peek at his hand wrapped tight around your ankle. It slides up, very slowly, until it gets to your knee, and he pushes it out of his way.

“I don’t like the silent treatment.” Seungmin moves until he’s settled in the empty space between your legs, “look at me…please,” and forces them open a little more. The phone is swiped from your hands and tossed to the floor, and now you look at him. His eyes are narrowed, his face is serious as he sucks on his lower lip. “That’s better. Now…what did Minnie do?”

You start to open your mouth, but he interrupts…

“And don’t say nothing”

“My phone was pretty quiet the last few days”

Seungmin’s eyes grow big, and he puts on a good, dramatic frown. He lets go of your knee, and then he’s up and gone, and you desperately want him to come back. Instead, he picks up your tossed phone and gently sets it on the coffee table. Back turned to you, he speaks again…

“I’m sorry, I know I was really bad at keeping in touch this time”

This is the first time he’s been bad at it, which is why it feels off. Seungmin is always great at keeping in touch, even when he’s busy. Sometimes you can't keep up with him. Deep down, you know you're being stupid, but you can't stop yourself.

“The last few days were kind of nonstop, and the fansign yesterday went on longer than planned,” he turns and looks at you, and waits for a response, but you don’t give him one yet. “Do you forgive me?”

“Big fansign? Bigger than usual?”

“Maybe a little bigger…not much different than they usually are”

“Lots of hands to hold?”

Seungmin tilts his head to one side, and smirks before slowly making his way back to you, “yes, lots of stays.” He sits again, but this time he leans over you and hovers, an arm on each side of your waist. “Lots of hands to hold.”

You free yourself and push him a little too hard, and he laughs as he hits the back of the couch.

“Come back, sweetie…what’s wrong?” But he doesn’t move. Seungmin sinks into the couch a little more and sighs. The apartment quiets, save for the light sound of music coming from the kitchen. He waits, and waits... but after a few minutes, impatience sets in. “Please come back so I can hold your hand.”

The bedroom door opens, “I don’t wanna hold your hand," and then slams behind you as you head for the kitchen.

“Why did you put clothes on?”

“So I can make you lunch”

“You don’t have to make me anything…get over here”

When you ignore him again, he gets to his feet, and you watch from the corner of your eye as he gets closer and closer. His hand clamps down on your elbow, and you’re spun so suddenly, you get no chance to resist. You stare at him, wide-eyed.

“I want my kiss”

“Okay...then take it”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize what you've done. His lip twitches into a little smirk, his eyes narrow and darken, and the bubbly music surrounding him is such a contrast...you have to smirk, too.

He doesn’t take his kiss. Seungmin grabs your waist, pulls you close, and throws you over his shoulder. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll treat you like a brat.”

"Put me down...Seungmin...dammit." You try to kick your legs against him, but he has you gripped tight around the back of your knees. You plant a loud slap across his back. It doesn’t faze him—he keeps walking casually toward the bedroom, hitches you up a little as he pushes the door open, and a few seconds later, drops you on the bed. You mumble to yourself…

“Hmm?” Seungmin’s hands go right to his waistband, and instead of tugging at them, he slides one hand in and runs it roughly over his dick. “Take your clothes off,” he snaps, but smiles as you finally do something he says. “You know what I was thinking about all day yesterday?”

You’re sure you can guess, but you know he’s going to show you.

He climbs onto the bed, and places a few warm-up kisses on your thigh before his face disappears between them, and your mind numbs to everything but the sudden heat of his mouth. He moans into you, satisfied. You whine as his tongue slips inside, moves in and out, every curve of his mouth and chin and nose work you perfectly—Seungmin does this so often and so well, he could do it in his sleep…he could do it completely wasted, and he has.

Your thighs are squeezed painfully tight as he spreads you further apart and makes more room for himself, but he can never get enough. He slows down, though, and you grab a fistful of hair as he looks up and licks his lips. You’re all over him, shiny and wet.

“Why you stopping?”

He lets go of your thighs, you release the fistful of hair, and he rolls onto his back, “get on.”

Before you move, your eyes travel to his dick pressing hard against his sweats, and he shakes his head. “Not for you, not yet. On.” But he does free himself, and he does slowly stroke as you get to your knees. “Turn,” he spins his finger in the air, “you can watch.”

Seungmin’s voice is so calm and sweet as he gives his orders, and you can hear him mumble happily to himself as you straddle his mouth. He doesn’t complain when you run your hands across his stomach and chest, but you don’t dare go any further.

It’s hard, watching him touch and stroke himself…bending down and getting a taste would be so easy from here. He dives in, and you moan. His hips jump up and tease you even more—the slow, careful strokes are hypnotizing.

“Let me get you wet,” you whine and grind hard onto his mouth. “Please.” The temptation is getting to be too much, and maybe he won’t really punish you for it. This is fun for him, but he’s going to want to fuck you after he makes you come. You grind a little harder, and you can feel the faint stubble on his chin against your clit. That, and his soft, warm lips sucking you dry; his tongue pushing in and out, back and forth, is going to make this quick. You bend all the way forward and set your lips on his stomach, and his hips twitch. You roll yours hard into him, grind until you feel your orgasm rising. Seungmin releases himself and both hands grip and knead your thighs as you come hard—you forget you could suffocate him for a moment and put all of your weight down as you ride it out, but he keeps squeezing, and licking, and moaning with you.

Another one starts to build, and you let him know with a hard roll of your hips, even though he has no intention of stopping. He lifts you off of him, very briefly—you hear him pull in a shaky breath, and see his chest rise as he fills his lungs with air—and then you’re back on him, grinding against the subtle, deliberate movements of his mouth and tongue. The second one is so close, but Seungmin makes sure to take his time and enjoy himself. His mouth closes around your clit and teases, stops and starts, kisses gently when he thinks you're getting too close. The noises you make speak volumes to him.

"Minnie...Minnie..." you push yourself against his tongue in a desperate attempt for more friction, but he lifts you up just enough to stop you.

"...please let me”

As soon as you say please, he pulls you back down and finishes what he started, holding your thighs still as they shake, but letting all of your weight fall on him again. And he keeps going.

“Baby, okay,” you pant and struggle to hold yourself up, “okay.” Nails digging into his arm eventually gets to him—you crawl away and free yourself from his grip.

“Get your ass back here,” he grabs your leg as soon as you turn and hit the bed, and holds you still, “I’m not done with you yet,” then pulls, and he pounces, and this time, he slips two fingers inside.

“Minnie please." You gasp from the pressure, and his innocent giggle sends a new wave of pleasure through your body. But his mouth returns and forces more out of you. Teeth graze your clit, and a shiver runs up and down your spine. Seungmin bites down gently and laughs again when you whimper...pull at his hair...give in and push your hips into him. As soon as you let yourself relax, you come again, and it’s somehow even more intense than the first.

“Gonna tell me?” He grabs a thigh again and squeezes, puts all of his weight down. All you can manage is a little wiggle of your hips when he bends down and licks. “Be a good girl, tell me exactly what’s bothering you.”

You speak up before he starts again. “Did they hold your phone hostage, or…did you find someone more interesting to talk to?” It comes out staggered as you catch your breath.

“Mmm, so jealous. C’mon, you know me better than that...you know what I always want when I come home.”

As if you need another hint, he comes down and licks again. Your hips twitch—you’re swollen, and sore, and sensitive, but you know he’ll make you come again if he chooses to.

“You think there was someone I wanted more?” Seungmin’s voice is still husky, and a little demanding, but his soft side is beginning to break through. “Hm?” He takes his cock in his hand and gets more comfortable between your thighs.

“No…” You squeeze your legs around his hips and pull him closer. “No…I’m sorry—"

Seungmin shakes his head and smiles wide, “I kinda like it when you’re jealous.”

⭒♡

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fanfic #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin smut #skz seungmin #seungmin smut #dom!kim seungmin #dom seungmin #dom kim seungmin #dom!skz #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz smut

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forthevillains · 8 months ago

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Albert Wesker headcanons (pt.2)

!NSFW! (fem. reader)

~ Wesker is definitely dominant, especially when it comes to sex. He’s been like that ever since he lost virginity. Even then, when he was inexperienced, he knew for sure what he was doing and would insist on being on top

~ when you two started dating though, he already had perhaps too much experience… To say the least, he’s a very kinky man, often difficult to please, though it changed when he met you

~ considering how rough he can get, if he cared for you and planned on having a long term relationship, he’d offer you a safe word in case he gets carried away

~ he likes your voice, a lot. When you moan due to his actions, it turns him on even more than he already was and he craves your pleasure, maybe even more than you do yourself

~ he often makes you come on his fingers, loving how you cry out when that happens, begging him to stop, only for his movements to fasten, making your legs tremble and head dizzy, you have no other choice than to let him. He knows you like it and he wants to keep going until you physically can’t anymore;)

~ even though he’s trying to be gentle with you, he gets very rough in bed if you let him. He has no problem gripping your flesh tight enough to bruise, biting your skin as well. Sometimes he gets carried away and makes you bleed, but once he realizes he’ll shower the spot with gentle kisses as an apology (though he’s still gonna do it again)

~ if there’s one thing Wesker can’t resist it’s buying you expensive and erotically revealing lingerie. He prefers to fingerfuck you in it so that he can keep your soaked panties as a reward

~ as much as he loves receiving, he’s actually very good at giving too. He loves going down on you, even though he mostly does it when he’s too tired for anything else or when you’ve been very good to him. He adores the faces you make, how you throw your head back, how your shaky hands slide in his hair only to desperately pull him closer. He’d hold onto your hip with one hand while he’d have two fingers buried deep inside you as he pleasures you with his tongue. It’s also his favorite way to overstimulate you as he can always grip your thighs so that you can’t squirm away

~ quickies are a necessity. No matter how crazy he’s going from the fact that he doesn’t have enough time for you, he just has to release all the tension and stress and if you’re around and up for it - he won’t waste the opportunity. His office is the best place for them. He wouldn’t want anyone else seeing his precious little angel in such a state of bliss

~ you’ve been rarely given the opportunity to be on top, however when you have… Oh did he enjoy it. He might’ve let you be on top, but little did you know how much he’d put you through in return. If you’re shy, it’s even better for him. He’d keep his hands off of you, ordering you to ride him as he makes you look at him. If you dared dodge him in any way, he’d just forcefully turn your head to look back at him. He’d watch you, how your cheeks turned red from embarrassment and how you helplessly tried to bounce on his thick length, a moan slipping from your mouth every single time you did it, teary eyes from the overwhelming sensation. You felt ashamed of yourself, but it felt too good to stop… Of course he’d only torture you like that until he’s had enough. Then he’d grab your hips to keep you still and pound into you hard enough to make you see stars

~ he doesn’t own toys as he thinks they’re useless. He can make you feel all types of ways on his own. Though he does like to tie you up so that he can have his way with you and push your limits. He likes to see you try and get away, knowing he can do anything he wants to you

~ his favorite position would still be missionary. Call it old school, but it’s the best way for him to keep everything under control. He watches the slightest expressions of yours when he fucks you like that, holding you close to him, giving you the slightest of comfort while he abuses your tight hole to the point when you’re probably not gonna be able to walk for hours. If you’ve grown used to his size, he might just take one of your legs and push your knee to your chest to get even deeper. He’s not gonna let go until he’s satisfied

~ he’s a quick learner. He knows exactly what to do and where to touch you to make you melt, whether it is intimate or not

~ to be fair I feel like he’s a boobie guy. Doesn’t matter how big they are, he just loves them. He loves to kiss them, suck on them, hold them, even just look at them. He loves it and he definitely stares when you’re changing in front of him

~ definitely not a condom user. He either cums inside or on you. Though he surely prefers to release inside as he does have a breeding kink;)

~ he would love to watch his seed spill from your hole only to push it back in with his fingers every single time. He finds it very amusing

~ if you decide to blow him off on your own, he’ll absolutely melt. He might be the one in charge at all times, but the way you suck him off so good always catches him off guard. Maybe it’s not even your skill but you in general, yet he couldn’t care less. He loves how you look up at him when you do so, how you teasingly swirl your tongue around him. He can’t get enough and trust me when I say he could watch you like that forever

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you #oneshot #headcanons #re smut #smut #resident evil headcanons

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ja3mln · 1 year ago

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part one & two

cw: popular guy!jm, fwb to lovers!au, fluff, smut, oral (f), soft sex, a lot of kissing, you both are whipped for e/o:(

words: 1.2k

playlist: falling for you by jaden (ft jb)

a/n: please listen to the song while reading!!!!! i couldn't help but make this part a bit smutty too oops... i loved writing this little serie i hope you guys enjoyed it!!! i feel a bit insecure abt my writing lately so tysm for the support:(<3 enjoy!

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since that party, you didn't expect to start spending most of your time with jaemin and for him to be this sweet with you. you didn't miss any of his football matches, even going to his practices sometimes and ending up in a coffee shop, talking about how he's been improving since you became involved in his football activities. jaemin even started studying with you. sometimes, he would just be there for company or to bring you something to eat, and he would end up sitting next to you and helping you with your studies.

he couldn't get enough of you. he found himself spending most of his time thinking about you, asking himself what you could be doing right now or what he could bring you for lunch. of course, his friends know about all of this, not just his friends, but the whole school. however, for some reason, jaemin didn't really care. he cared at first, not because he was ashamed of you, but because he was worried about how mean the girls could get towards you. once he understood that you weren't the type to let those things bother you, he was relieved and started showing more affection towards you in front of others, like putting his arm around you when you're walking together or eating lunch with you at the cafeteria.

the thing is that jaemin never really asked you out, and you haven't even had a real date yet. but it doesn't really bother you because the time you spent with him felt so exclusive that you didn't really need it. of course, you were still having sex, but less than usual, not because you didn't want to, but because you were spending more time hanging out and doing stuff like going to the cinema and watching the stars at the park while talking for hours.

when you invited jaemin to watch a movie, you didn't expect to end up on your bed, jaemin's face between your tights. "fuck baby, i could do this all day", jaemin groans against your pussy, looking at you, and you giggle, grabbing his hair. he goes back to making out with your pussy and you moan louder, feeling his lips sucking on your clit harder. when you feel your orgasm coming, jaemin pulls out, and you let out a whimper, frustrated. "what the fuck, jaem?", you look at him, confused, and he laughs, pulling you for a quick kiss. "i want you to sit on my face, princess", your pussy thorbs and you obey, jaemin holding you down by your tights so he can kiss and lick your core, the wet sounds accompanying your moans. you move your hips repeatedly, feeling your orgasm coming back, and one of your hands grabs the mattress, the other tightly holding jaemin's hair. "gonna cum jaem!", he just groans against your pussy, looking at you going crazy and how you throw your head back and his hand finds a way to your boob.

you finally reach your climax, screaming jaemin's name and moving your hips uncontrollably. he licks your pussy clean before switching positions to be on top of you, "i've never taste something so good", he says against your lips, and you blush slightly, pulling him for a kiss. jaemin's tongue slides in your mouth, letting you taste your own cum. he breaks the kiss to look at you, one of his hands gently caressing your cheek, and you've never seen this much admiration in his look. "i think i'm falling for you", he whispers softly, like it was his deepest secret. you feel like your heart could explode at any time. "what?", you shyly reply when you understand that jaemin was lost in his own thoughts and maybe he was just saying random things. "i'm falling for you", you could see the honesty and tenderness in his look, and you could feel your chest burning. he doesn't even give you time to answer and spreads your legs, sliding his cock in your pussy and you let out a whimper of surprise. jaemin looks at you a bit worried, not moving, "hey... are you okay?", he asks softly, and his thumb caresses your cheek. you could feel your eyes getting watery, not because of his dick in you, but because na jaemin just confessed to you and was acting like it was the most normal thing to do. "jaemin...", you could feel his body tense up and his look getting even softer than it already was. he's looking at you with the softest eyes ever, and you don't know how to react.

you feel completely overwhelmed, by his words, by his touch, by the way he is looking at you. everything he does just drives you crazy. "you're a fucking idiot", you whimper against his lips before crashing yours against it. you both share the softest kiss you've ever had, a kiss full of honesty and tenderness. jaemin starts moving in you, slowly so you can get used to it. you put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, if it's even possible. right now, jaemin is not fucking you. he is making love to you and you can feel it in every thrust, making your heart beat fast and your cheeks on fire. you keep kissing until you're both out of breath, and jaemin looks at you again before leaving kisses all over your jaw, making his way to your neck and you moan louder while your hand grabs firmly his hair. "jaemin... more!", you say between the moans and he doesn't wait any second to go faster and deeper into you, making you completely lose your mind. you both hold each other close, jaemin groaning against the skin of your neck, and you can already feel your orgasm approaching. he noticed the way you started shaking and how your moans switched into screams, so his lips leaves your neck to look at you straight in the eyes. "let's cum together, sweetheart", you just nod and cup his face to focus on his eyes while you both moan in unison.

you both reach your climax, heavily breathing and holding tight to each other. jaemin's body relaxes, and his head falls on your chest. you both try to catch your breath and you play softly with jaemin's hair, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment. you've never seen jaemin this vulnerable during sex and you can't help but smile. "i might be falling for you too...", you say softly, hoping that he already fell asleep and didn't hear what you just said, but when he lifts his head to look at you, your cheeks heat up immediately and your smile gets bigger. "might be?", he pouts and you can't help but roll your eyes playfully. you've never seen him act so adorable, and your heart can't take it. "fine, i am falling for you.", a wide smile appears on his lips, and he pulls you for a sweet kiss. "we should make love more often.", he whispers against your lips and you just smile and nod before you share another kiss. jaemin realized that falling for you was better than he imagined.

#nct dream x reader #nct x reader #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin oneshot #jaemin scenarios #jaemin drabbles #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream reactions #nct reactions #jaemin x you

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itsgrimeytime · 9 months ago

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drunk on you (part four) || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader (no apocalypse!AU)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

series taglist: @ryoujoking

Part 1, 2, 3

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: You'd known Rick forever, as far back as freshman year. He was a guy you (if you were honest) had a crush on; there was just something in his stance and the low drawl of his voice. You'd say that feeling only got worse from there. Before you could blink, he was married and had a kid; and suddenly, despite your best efforts, you felt very out of place. You faded out of his life, and he yours. So when Rick shows up at your door (drunk out of his mind) about 5 years after the last time you spoke to him, you have a lot of questions.

TWs: exes, mention of cheating (not Rick don't worry babes), talk of marriage, vague allusion to sex, and a teeny bit of jealousy.

[[A/N: This is just some domestic fluff. Okay but like what if 5 is just an epilogue? Many thoughts to be thunk. Also, can you tell I'm a child of divorce🧍‍♀️. Enjoy :))]]

It was early morning, and you were tight to Rick's side -probably so much that he couldn't even move. But that wasn't your problem, and he never said anything about it. So, you kept doing it.

He must've felt you shift, because he spoke then.

"Ya awake?" He asked -voice gruff and slurred. It still sent a shiver down your spine, his accent much stronger -tone so low and scratchy. There was just something about his voice in the mornings (or in general, really).

You mumbled into his skin, shifting your head further onto his chest, "No."

He laughed, arm wrapped around your back -squeezing you closer. You hummed at the contact.

"Baby," he urged -still smiling, you could tell in his voice, "-I can't feel my legs, we gotta get up."

You frowned, with ease sliding your right leg in between his -interlocking them, "Not anymore."

"Hate to break it to ya," he hummed, brushing his fingers up and down your spine -if he wanted you up, he should stop being so soothing, "-but I still can't feel 'em."

You sighed out, big and long -pressing a kiss to his chest (right over his heart) and sitting up. Rubbing at your eyes and fixing your shirt, you leaned against the bed frame.

Rick looked at you for a moment, before smiling, "You're so cute, ya know 'at?"

You yawned, stretching out your arms, stating -frankly, "You tell me a lot."

"Yeah, well," he pursed his lips, "-Imma keep doin' it."

"I know," you responded -leaning over and kissing him solidly.

You'd initially just wanted one, but Rick held you there a moment -hands cupping your face. Lips darting forward a few times, he chased them. It was routine for him -almost like brushing your teeth. You realized he really liked to kiss you, and probably, realistically, had a quota -the thought nearly made you laugh.

"You keep doing that and we won't make it out of the bed," you teased -landing one more on his lips.

Rick laughed, you loved that sound.

Flicking to your phone, you scanned the date and time -frowning. It was a workday.

"Ugh," you groaned, throwing yourself back into the bed, "-I work today. Save me, Grimes."

He was on his side now, looking down at you - that gaze you knew very well. He had so many stares that said the same thing -it was nice; he didn't have to say a word but he still did. All the time.

Complimented you like he couldn't help it, like it was always on his tongue.

He offered, half-serious you could tell, "What if ya quit, and I got a job again? Took care of you and Carl."

"Rick, as much as that sounds like heaven, and it does-" you hummed, hands moving up to cup his face -thumbs saying back and forth over his cheekbones, "-I love my job, I'm not quitting."

He turned to kiss your palm, gently.

"Plus," you added on, "-you make a great housewife."

Rick rolled his eyes, the smile spread across his lips much more telling, "Ya are too much, sometimes, you know 'at?"

"I think," you smiled, sitting up and rubbing your hands over his shoulders, "-I'm just right."

"For me," he added, "-Just right for me."

You smiled, holding his face in your hands and leaning forward to kiss his forehead. You almost couldn't stop yourself with him, you wanted to hold him or kiss him nearly everywhere. Maybe because you spent all those years not and wanted to make up for lost time, but you didn't really know for sure.

"Sap," you hummed, patting his cheek -a little patronizingly.

And then, Rick laughed again.

Before you could do much else, you heard some shuffling in the living room -footsteps pattering along the floor. Straight to your room. You moved in preparation, as you did every morning.

Just on cue, Carl barreled through the doorway -jumping his Dad into a tackle.

"'Ere's my guy," Rick laughed out -breathless (you imagined the hit made him a little breathless), squeezing his son against his chest.

When Carl finally let go, you brushed some of his hair down -it was far too mussed for it to do anything but you just wanted to, "Did you sleep good, Carl?"

"Great," he smiled -big and toothy, "-I had a dream about evil dinosaurs taking over, I saved the world-"

"Betcha did, buddy," Rick commented, shifting his son further down the bed, "-let's go get some breakfast."

"Get?" You questioned.

"Yeah," Rick hummed, "-'ere's a place a friend recommended a few weeks ago, been meaning to try it. If ya want to."

"A friend?" You questioned now fully facing him, "-tell me more."

"Yeah, Dad," Carl affirmed, "-since when do you have friends?"

You snorted at that.

Rick huffed out, a little in defense, but answered anyway, "'Went when ya were workin' and you were at your Mom's to some local park. Guy had a dog, thin' tackled me to the ground."

"And you became friends with him?" Carl asked, confused.

"Adults are weird like that, sweetie," you patted his shoulder, "-we take what friends we can get. And you-"

You turned toward Rick, pecking him on his cheek, "-I'm very proud."

He smiled that twinkly one again, eyes so blue and so... in love. You were sure that you looked about the same.

"You guys are gross," Carl stuck his tongue out in disgust, running out of the room without another breath. Kids.

"No, but seriously," you turned to him -one last time, "-I'm really proud of you."

He smiled, a softer one then, like the praise meant the world to him -and you wondered briefly if it did, "I know."

It was a few days after that now -the weekend, where you found yourself, and Rick, shopping. It wasn't like you dragged him everywhere you went, he just always wanted to follow you around.

Bonnie said it was like he was a 'lil' lovesick puppy' and you were really starting to agree with her.

He was looking at you now, eyes twinkling as he pushed the cart -slow and sure steps following each one you took.

"What kind does Carl like again?" You asked absent-mindedly, hands darting between a few packages, "-I could've sworn it was blueberry, but these don't-"

"'S blueberry," he hummed, and you spun to him -eyes flickered over his (he was looking at you way too in love to be at a grocery store).

"Are you sure-" you asked, motioning to the box, "-is this just new packaging, or-"

"Baby," he laughed, walking away from the front of the cart and taking the box into his hands, "-stop stressin' yourself out, 's the right one-"

He paused for a minute, looking it over.

"Yeah," you snatched the box out of his hands -with a teasing smile, "-What were you saying exactly?"

Rick laughed, leaning forward to kiss you -quickly, "'M sorry, you were right. Doesn't look right. Is 'ere any with blueberry in-"

"Y/N," a voice rang out, "-is that you?"

You stalled in place, you knew that voice from forever ago. Was that-

You turned around, your ex-boyfriend from your senior year. It really was. He was older now, obviously, taller, his hair still cut the same way and his fashion sense somehow worse. Which you didn't know how that could happen, because he was a teenager. How did it get worse?

"Hey," you offered -awkwardly, "-crazy seeing you here."

Rick spun around at your tone, eyes settling very quickly on the guy -he knew him too. The smile on his face flattened.

Your breakup hadn't been the best, he'd cheated on you and asked the person to prom instead of you. Shane and Rick ended up taking you, but it hurt all the same. He'd never even formally broken up with you, now that you think about it-

"Rick!" He exclaimed, but you could tell it was a little for show, "-What are the chances? It's like we're holding our own little reunion here."

Rick was silent, he did hold grudges for pretty long, so you wouldn't be surprised if he still had one. You peeked over at him, and saw an unfamiliar face -straight lined mouth, and blue eyes steely.

"What are you," you started -politely, "-doing here?"

"I work around here," he clarified, and you relaxed slightly -normal, "-I'd heard you were in the area though and wanted to catch up!"

There it was.

"I didn't-" he started, "-I wasn't looking in grocery stores, I was going to try and talk to you through socials-"

His eyes landed on Rick for a moment, and he seemed to think for a moment, "Didn't expect you here though, buddy! Last I heard you were still in town. Are you visiting or something-"

Rick was deathly quiet.

"Actually," you laughed, sort of awkwardly, "-we live together."

"Oh, cool!" The guy hummed, "-That's always-"

"I'm 'eir boyfriend," Rick interrupted, hand shooting out to find yours -which he did fairly quickly. His tone was low, his accent strong, and your ex seemed to notice it -eyes darting to your connected hands.

Something fluttered along your mind -boyfriend. Have you said that yet? Was that the first time?

"Oh, shit," he stressed out -genuine surprise in his tone, "-You finally got the memo, Grimes?"

Rick's jaw tightened, and you squeezed your connected hands once. Trying to calm him down, you'd forgotten how protective he was -even when you were friends.

You remember him physically shielding you from exes, showing up to your house when you called and said they wouldn't leave you alone. Shane was always more physical, offering to punch them in the face or even doing it without warning -Rick was more of a presence. Something commanding in how he held himself.

"Yeah," he answered, shortly, "-got together aboutta year an' a half ago."

You hadn't even realized it had been that long, Rick was so ingrained into your day. It was like you couldn't picture life before him, even though you knew it was happy. It just shied in comparison to what you lived now.

"Wow, that's incredible," he smiled -somewhat genuinely, "-I know you've had a thing for him for a while, so I'm happy for you. Glad you guys could figure it out."

You shifted, uncomfortably -had he known when you were dating too?

"Thanks," you offered -simply. The grudge that had been instilled in you long ago was long gone, labeled as 'high school stuff'. Felt like the end of the world then, but in the grand scheme of things, was inconsequential.

Your relationship with him was special though, helped distract you and you even thought maybe your feelings for Rick had shifted. Later, you knew they hadn't but the heartbreak of what you did have with your ex didn't help any either.

"And, just to get it off my chest," he added -a little more serious, "-I'm sorry for how we ended things, wasn't fair to you."

Huh, you thought.

"No need," you assured, "-it was high school, we were young, didn't know any better."

He smiled then, seemingly happy with the exchange, "Well, I've gotta go, but I wish you guys the best, really. Remember me when the wedding comes, yeah?"

You stilled.

Rick laughed though, something in him lightening up, "I'll try."

"All I can ask for."

After that, Rick continued sorting through the snacks -trying to find the right one. ("Maybe 'ey just don't 'ave it, baby, we can try the next store if ya want.") You'd said something about it not being worth it, you could ask him later next week -see exactly which one he liked.

You were there, physically, for the rest of the trip, but something in your mind was running at 100 miles an hour.

Rick had thought about marriage? With you?

It didn't come up until you got home, you and Rick carrying bags in and sorting through them in the kitchen. As a pair, you were a well-oiled machine, and something in your chest warmed at seeing him so comfortable. He was so used to it now.

It was his home too, after all. You just still couldn't wrap your head around that.

"Baby?" He interrupted your train of thought, shaking a box of macaroni in front of your face -asking where to put it, you realized.

"Far cabinet on the right," you answered, but his eyes didn't move from you -he could tell something was off. Always could.

He set the box on the counter, pulling you from the bag you were working on -tilting your head to face him. You followed without hesitation, somewhat on instinct.

"Ya alright?" He echoed -concerned, you could tell by the pull of his brow, "-'ve been so spacy since the grocery store."

"What, yeah," you hummed, blinking away the thought process -or trying to, anyway.

Rick raised an eyebrow. He could always see right through you. You didn't know how he did that-

"You," you bit your lip -eyes darting to the bags on the floor, noting how much you had left, "-Have you really thought about marrying me?"

He laughed a little then, pulling you forward and kissing you solidly -you let him, "Ya had me worried 'ere, baby."

"Rick," you said -pointedly.

"I know, I know," he hummed, smoothing his thumb along your cheek, "'s just an easy answer."

You paused, heart on your tongue -maybe even a little pathetically, "Really?"

"'Course," he stressed -grin spread across his lips, "-I love ya, don't I? Why wouldn't I think 'bout our future?"

"Well, our future is one thing," you echoed, "-but marriage... You've thought about it. That's... That's a big deal."

"Is it?" He teased.

"Rick."

"Okay, yeah," he exhaled, getting serious, hands staying cupped on your cheeks, "-I've thought 'bout it. A lot. I got this picture of a white house with a big ol' yard and a garden. Two rockin' chairs on the front porch, the works."

"Really?" Your heart felt like it was in your throat, and it was the only word you could come up with.

"Yeah," he smiled, warm, something softer in his eyes now -affectionate, "-'s just a dream though, gotta work out some kinks."

"Like what?"

"Well, for one," he hummed, "-your job. Ya love it 'ere, I don't wanna take 'at away from ya. Two, location, 'M not too sure 'ey got any white houses for sale out 'ere-"

It slipped out before you could think about it, "'Could always build one."

Rick paused, smiling at you in a certain type of way, before deciding, "I'd build ya a house."

You laughed.

"Ya want one?" He asked -somewhat genuinely, "-I'll build you a house, if ya want one, baby."

"Rick," you laughed, "-be serious."

"I am," he spoke -voice certain, serious, "-I'll give ya anythin' you want."

"Rick, come on, that's-"

You looked at him, really looked at him. His blue eyes said all they needed to.

"Come on," you echoed out -in disbelief, "-you cannot just build a house for me. Do you even know how to do that?"

"Sure I do," he clarified, "-my Dad taught me a lot."

"Not about building houses," you laughed -a bit in shock.

He seemed so serious. you'd been in committed relationships before, but a house? Someone building you a house?

He really couldn't be serious.

"Taught me about buildin'," he offered -tone so stable, unshakeable, "-and whose to say I can't get any help?"

"You are not building me a house, Rick," you laughed out -still reeling, "-we're not even engaged-"

Rick looked at you, solidly, all of his attention -it made the laughter cut short from your lips. There was intention there, in his eyes -something so vulnerable, so open. It was like he was saying everything at once and nothing at all.

You don't know what about it told you, but something did.

He had a ring.

"You... You don't-" you spoke -disbelief coating your words. It felt like nothing was coming to your lips, or everything was. You couldn't decide, "-Rick."

"'Was just instinct," he replied honestly, "-saw it and it just... it was yours."

"Rick," you stressed again but it was weak -something bubbling up your throat, "-we've... we've only been dating a year and a half."

"'Ve known each other a lot longer," he reasoned, "-'supposed to really know someone ya marry. And I really know you."

You fell silent.

"And, as much as I hate it sometimes," he let out a long breath, "-you really know me too."

"Rick," you muttered out -it was all you could say.

"If ya want more time, I get it," he quickly said, making sure you were looking at him -tilting your chin up with his hand, "-I can wait. But I'm ready, 'ave been."

Your eyes were teary now, as you stared at him. Taking him in. Not only had he thought about marrying you, but he had a ring and a plan and a dream with you in it.

You just said all you could think of.

"You better not be proposing to me over grocery bags in our kitchen right now."

Rick laughed then, a rumble through his chest, "Don't 'ave to be. Unless you want it."

You tried to wipe at your eyes, but his thumbs swiped the tears away instead, "What the hell are we supposed to tell people? 'He just offered to build me a house in our kitchen'?"

"You 'aven't even seen the ring yet," he laughed, but something in him different -excited, happy, beyond happy.

"God," you suddenly startled, somewhat ignoring his words, "-what are we going to tell Bonnie?"

Rick stared at you again -telling.

"She knows?"

"Told her when I found it," he hummed -pulling your face forward to kiss your forehead, "-asked her 'at I should do. 'If it feels right, it feels right.'"

"You are such a momma's boy, Grimes."

"'Ey," he spoke -defensive, with no bite. He was smiling too big for you to take him seriously.

"You know I'm right," you gloated, before settling into another thought, "-Shane's going to be so pissed he wasn't involved."

"In what?"

"The proposal," you answered -as if it was obvious.

"So, this is the proposal?" He asked, smiling biting through his lips, "-Ya want me to be proposin'?"

You pursed your lips, trying to hold back the creeping smile, "I haven't even seen the ring yet."

"I said 'at," he laughed -just so very delighted, "-you weren't listenin' to me."

"Show it to me," you grinned, bouncing on your toes, "-I wanna see."

"I don't 'ave it on me," he laughed at your insistence, "-I hid it away."

"So?" You asked, something in your stomach swirling, "-Go get it then."

"Bossy," he hummed, throwing up his hands in surrender -roaming down past the living room. It was the opposite way of your bedroom.

Where did he-

He abruptly turned into a doorway.

Carl's room.

It was smart, you never would have looked there. Not that you'd be looking anyway, a few minutes ago you didn't even know he'd thought about marrying you-

A lot was happening, but you somehow weren't scared. Not really. You knew Rick, like the back of your hand, and living with him had been so natural, so easy. So much so, that he almost didn't even have to ask to move in. It felt right, even when you argued, you knew it was for a purpose -never letting it further than it needed to be. You had both learned what a mature solution was and knew how to handle it all. He'd never stormed out angry and neither had you. Ever.

You'd thought before that maybe if you had been together when you were younger, it might not have worked. You might have broken up, but the time and the experience, you got it right. With Rick, this was... right.

You'd never felt more stable with somebody. And you weren't sure what your life would be like without him in it. Wasn't that what marriage was about? Adapting, learning, knowing, loving.

Your relationship with Rick was the most serious you'd ever been in, even before the marriage topic. You'd just known, if this went anywhere it would go far.

And maybe you hadn't hoped as far as marriage, but you had pictured years at least.

You heard his footsteps before you saw him, the slow drag of his feet -you knew it well, could recognize him by his footsteps. ("You really know me too.")

And there was a pounding in your chest then, but you weren't scared. It was anticipation, excitement.

Rick wandered up to you, the little box held tightly in his hand -something in him nervous, you could tell. It made your head spin, you couldn't stand still. It felt like your heart was running at 100 miles an hour, as you stared at his hand.

It was a tiny wooden box, nothing too special. But still, your heart clamored into your throat -darting between him and the box, back and forth, back and forth-

"Ya want me on one knee?" He asked -playfully, but something was biting at him. Nerves.

You laughed, fidgeting with your hands, "Yeah, of course. Aren't you going to do it properly? Aren't you a gentleman?"

"'S 'at mean you want this? Now?"

You pursed your lips, hiding a smile, "Isn't that the whole point of asking?"

Rick shook his head -smiling, and as promised -got on one knee.

It was suddenly very real. You'd always imagined this moment, in a fairytale sort of way. Where the music swells, and maybe you're in front of a national monument, or maybe he had just saved your life, or maybe he'd just given you this big speech about how he can't live without you-

But this, this was very simple.

It was just Rick, still in his pajama pants and with a little bit of a bedhead, knelt down in-between plastic grocery bags. There was no lavish dinners, no beautiful sunset. You hadn't even actually eaten breakfast yet-

But even still, your heart leap in your throat and your eyes got all misty.

"Shit," you mumbled out, tears ready to pour, "-you were... this is real."

Rick laughed, something so affectionate in his eyes, "I 'aven't even opened the box yet, baby, and you're already cryin'."

"Shut up, Grimes," you groaned out -laughing, even if it sounded a little like sobs.

"Ain't I supposed to be talkin'?"

"You know what I mean," you rolled your eyes, sniffling.

Rick smiled again, and it was bright and bubbly -your whole chest felt like it was about to explode. You never could imagine how this felt, how your life would lead to this -the person you love, offering themselves up forever. Forever.

"I love you," he started, and you could feel the waterworks, "-even tho' I'm a little late, I love ya so fully 'at I think I can't move forward anymore without you. You're not in my life, you're a piece of me. A piece of me 'at I can't lose, ever, and I don't want to."

Your took a shaky breath in.

"I want ya forever," he continued, and you could see the shine of tears in his eyes, "-I want all of this forever. I want you wakin' up beside me in the mornin' and the last face I see at night until we're old and gray. I'll build ya a fuckin' house, and we'll rock on the front porch together until the sun goes down-"

You laughed, a little wet and teary but a laugh all the same.

Rick was slower now, tone heavy with intent, "And I never imagined me and you like this all those years ago, but I... I can't think of anythin' more perfect now."

"Rick," you whispered out, the breaths in your chest hollow.

"Marry me," he echoed out, almost pleading, "-We were a few years too late, and I don't want ya waitin' on me anymore. So, marry me."

"Yes," you nearly spilled out before he could finish, "-holy shit, yes. I'll marry you."

Rick grinned, big and wide.

"Even if you just proposed to me over some grocery bags-"

"Oh, shut up," he laughed, standing up and pulling the ring from its box.

Your laughter was cut short, in all this commotion, you hadn't even noticed the ring. All you could look at was Rick, and you just loved him so much your eyes wouldn't move.

And now it was pinched between his fingers -shiny, beautiful. Nothing too big, something simple.

You hadn't thought about a ring, but it was somehow everything you wanted.

"You like it?"

His blue eyes were trained on you -just looking. Hopeful, nervous, maybe? Like he'd really wanted you to like it. Something in you warmed.

"Yeah," you whispered -eyes still a little misty.

He smiled, big and bright -so very happy, "Yeah?"

"You did a good job, Grimes," you wiped at your eyes -extending your hand out.

Rick smiled, you don't know if he ever stopped, carefully taking your hand and pushing the ring onto your finger. His calloused fingertips held you so gently that it made your head spin -always did.

"You just called yourself my boyfriend for the first time," you mumbled out -gently.

"Hmm, baby?" Rick asked, eyes looking at your hand -the ring, "-Didn't hear ya."

"At the grocery store," you hummed, sniffling, "-you said you were my boyfriend for the first time."

Rick paused a moment, before laughing, gently moving his hands to cradle your face, "'At's cute."

"What?" You offered, "-I'm serious, Rick."

"Baby, I tell everyone," he contradicted, rubbing his thumbs over your skin, "-it'd be the first thin' out my mouth if I wasn't introducin' myself."

"When?" You asked -genuinely, "-Because you never-"

"All the time," he reiterated, "-called my Momma the day I moved in, told 'er. Some guy starts approachin' ya? Boyfriend. An old friend from high school? Oh, we're together now. 'At-"

He cupped your face, gently -like he thought you were the cutest thing in the world, "-must've been the first time you were listenin'."

"Well," you hummed, hands coming up to intertwine behind his neck -fingers twisting into his curls, "-you were about to jump the guy, so I was pretty hyperaware-"

"I was not aboutta jump 'im," Rick laughed, moving his hands to your waist in response -instinctively.

"You were," you echoed, twirling his hair in between your fingers, "-I know you. When he said you 'got the memo'? You were going to kick his ass, right there in the grocery store."

"'Was kinda fucked up for 'im to say," he conceded -barely muttering it.

You rolled your eyes, just looking at him -smiling big and wide, "What am I going to do with you, Grimes?"

"Marry me," he answered, smiling big like he won some sort of prize, "-You're gonna marry me."

"You're such a sap, Grimes," you swatted his shoulders, playfully.

"Can't keep callin' me 'at," he hummed, eyes a little hooded -you knew the look.

"Why?"

"You're gonna be a Grimes," he explained -a simple little smile smoothed across his mouth, "-What are ya goin' to do then?"

"First off," you started, "-whose to say you're not taking my name-"

Rick hummed, a grin bright on his face like you talking about it made him deliriously happy. And the way he was looking at you right now, you would bet he was.

"Secondly, doesn't mean I can't still call you Grimes. You're still the original one."

"I'd take your name," he said -absentmindedly, fingers gently pressed into the skin of your waist -making you sway, "-ya want me to take your name?"

"Rick," you laughed, "-we can't do that to Bonnie."

"Just sayin'."

"And," you interrupted, flicking your eyes down to your hands -a little embarrassed, "-I've been doodling 'Y/N Grimes' into notebook margins since I was 16 so-"

Rick grinned, bright -something in him nearly giddy, "Really? 'S 'at why I could never use your notes?"

You frowned -embarrassed, "No."

"Oh my god," he gushed, all smiley and so excited, "-do ya still 'ave some of 'em? Please tell me ya do-"

"Rick, seriously? You want me to dig up old notebooks-"

"'S just so cute, baby," he teased, genuine, "-I gotta see it."

You huffed out a breath like you didn't know exactly where they were. Or like you didn't know you'd kept them in the closet, just to hopefully laugh at someday when you did move on-

Or maybe like you didn't keep them to read when you missed him.

"Did ya doodle lil' hearts too?"

"You're not funny, Grimes," you shot back but there was no bite.

"Not jokin'," he drawled, eyes so intently on yours, "-I wanna see 'em in my head. Maybe I'll get one tattooed on my heart-"

"Rick-" you shoved him but not far enough for you to completely let go.

Your steps fumbled forward, and the crinkle of the bags -brought your attention back to the floor. Right, you had just gone grocery shopping.

"Shit," you huffed, "-we need to put this stuff up, can't let anything thaw-"

"'S not gonna thaw," Rick countered.

"I'm being serious," you stressed, "-we can't just leave this all here."

"We could," he neatly replied.

"Rick-" and then you looked at him. He was looking at you in a certain type of way, you knew exactly the type of way.

"We should celebrate," he hummed, eyes low to match your lips, "-just got engaged."

"Rick," you chided, "-seriously."

"I'm perfectly serious, baby," he said it the way he always did. The way he did the first time, and even still you felt a jump in your pulse.

You weren't faltering, not this time. If he wanted to play dirty, so would you.

You stood ever-so-slightly on your tippy-toes -holding his eyes, you trailed your fingers along his shoulders. His eyes held onto you like he was lost at shore and you were the lighthouse -like you held everything in your hands. Maybe a little like you were the everything.

You stood a breath away from him, a smooth sort of smirk ran across your lips -his breaths were hollow in his chest. Payback.

"What's a few more minutes, baby?"

You saw his eyes flicker with a few different things then, and with a breath, you abruptly pulled back.

Rick blinked, the hazy out of his eyes -watching you start gathering up the bags, "Really? Usin' my own words against me?"

"Hey," you shoved his shoulder, teasing, "-at least you know how I felt, baby."

He grinned too big to be mad, hands coming up to cup your face. You knew exactly where that was going-

You sidestepped out of his grip, "Help me with the bags, Grimes."

He frowned, leaning against the counter -time for a different tactic.

"Okay, fine-" you huffed out, putting your hands on your hips, "-if we can at least get the frozen things put-"

Rick scooped the bags (with the frozen foods) up with a grace unknown to you, and a speed you could hardly follow. Carelessly tossing them into the freezer, still in the bags, he slammed the top shut with the flick of a wrist.

He looked back up at you -blue, blue eyes.

"-up," you finished a little breathlessly -a bit in amazement, "-How did you do that?"

"'S a powerful motivator," he offered up -accent low.

Without so much as a breath, he beelined toward you. And before you could even blink, he had gathered you up in his arms -carrying you toward your room.

"Rick-" you laughed.

He kissed the rest of your words out of your mouth.

Eh, they weren't that important anyway.

#drunk on you #its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

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heartstringsbloom · 1 month ago

Text

“What’s the last thing your mother said to you?”

The microphone is shoved under his face and McQueen starts. That’s. . .not the question he had been expecting.

“I’m—sorry, what does—?“

“Do you regret not visiting more often?”

“Hold on—“

“Monty.” Mom is there now, hanging behind the reporter like a shadow. His own eyes stare back at him so lovingly he might be sick. “I want you to follow your dream.”

“Mom. . .”

He feels her hand on his face. She’s closer suddenly. Her voice echoes around him, drowning out the reporters, the cheering fans. His panicked breathing.

“It’s gonna be okay. Your sister and I are gonna be keeping an eye on you.”

Lightn—Monty forces himself to swallow. The cameras are blinding. He shuts his eyes against the flashing but he still sees her. “How can you? I’m so far away. Mom, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Mr. McQueen! How selfish can you be to leave your family behind for the track? MR. MCQUEEN!“

“STOP!” He crashes to the ground, doesn’t feel the impact. He- he might throw up. “I don’t know! Stop asking me!”

He sobs, hard. His eyes are squeezed shut yet somehow he still sees her beside him. He can’t escape her—his—her eyes, or her voice. A soothing haunt to his ears.

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No I’m not.” Monty hugs his knees to his chest. Everything keeps fading in and out but her presence is steady. Too real. Not real enough.

“Mom,” he sobs.

“I’m so proud of you,” she soothes in his hair. Her hugs are just as warm as he thinks he remembers. But he still can’t feel her.

“You—you shouldn’t be.”

“You oughtta call your sister, sundrop.”

“I can’t, mom.” Monty sniffles. He feels smaller than ever. Nothing exists beyond her feather-light embrace. “She probably hates me.”

He closes his eyes and, finally, everything fades with that. Mom rocks them both, humming something about needing to run to the store for glue to finish Maisie’s costume for the play.

“Into The Woods?” They had both performed in that one. They had performed in a lot of plays together. The last one was when they were 15.

“You know your songs, baby?”

He snuggles in just like he used to. “Yeah, mama.”

She kisses his temple. Monty’s too tired to open his eyes, as if they’re glued shut. Mama squeezes him tight, still rocking back and forth. The last time he let her hold him like that was when he was 12.

“Love you, sunshine,” she whispers. He wants to say ‘don’t go,’ but his body is heavy.

His eyes open to window of Doc’s guest room.

It’s a bit cold, and he can see the sky is barely awake. He pulls the blankets tighter around himself. It’s half a comfort.

The room is a low grey. It’s early-early. Doc’s gonna get him up for training in a couple of hours. Mont—Lightning can barely stomach the idea, but he pushes out of bed anyway. He can at least get a shower and food.

The dream sits untouched in the back of his mind. He can’t help but to. . .well, he doesn’t recall much of it at all, but he can’t shake it. He doesn’t really want to.

His hands feel loose as he reaches for the shower curtain. It rests there, unmoving, unwilling. He just doesn’t have it in him. Lightning pulls away and slides to the floor, lashes sticky on his cheeks.

People always told him he had his mother’s face. For some reason they never said it to Maisie, though it could have been for her brown eyes. It hurt to look at her sometimes, as if he were missing out on something he never knew, but at the same time they were incredible. A treasure only she held. Maisie never liked her eyes. Monty appreciated them, though he’d never admitted it (he should have told her).

Same lips. Same jaw. Same piercing eyes, different colors. Maisie got mistaken for him, and he got mistaken for mom, even though Maisie had mom’s honey-to-gold blonde hair. Monty’s was strawberry blonde, almost rosy (rosy like his and Maisie’s cheeks).

He jolts awake when someone knocks at the bathroom door.

“Lightning?” Doc calls. “You about ready?”

Light. . .ning blinks himself awake (“pay attention, McQueen.” His sister would say during rehearsals, snapping her fingers in his face. They shared the same last name). He pushes up from the floor, eyes thick with sleep he doesn’t know if he wants. His legs are weak. He slips down with a sigh.

“Monty?”

(“Monty,” mom says softly when he won’t get out of bed. “You’ll be late for school.”)

The door creaks open. He feels Doc press a hand to his forehead.

“What’s goin’ on, kid?” Doc sounds worried, actually.

“Jus’ tired,” Lightning slurs. His lips barely move. “Tried to get a shower, couldn’t keep myself up.”

Doc’s beside him now. He brushes some hair from Lightning’s eyes. “You feelin’ sick?”

“Nah.” Maybe?

It’s quiet for a moment. He can hear Doc thinking.

“I think we can skip practice today. Go back to bed.” Doc stands, helps Lightning up. “I’ll bring you some food in a bit. Should have some water, too.”

Yeah. His lips do feel dry.

(“You need some lip balm,” his sister tells him through the mirror one night as she does her makeup. He’s still trying to get the stupid wig to look right. “And water.”)

Shut up, Maisie.

“Hey, you don’t have to like it,” Doc hums, as if Light spoke aloud. Maybe he did. “It’s what’s best for now.”

“You always say that,” Lightning whines, feeling in quite the mood to just be difficult.

(“You always say that,” he mutters to their reflection. She clicks her tongue and decides to not with the usual ‘I’m always right.’)

Doc eases him into the once messy bed now tucked neatly because Doc sometimes goes behind his back like that, and folds the sheets around his waist. The comforter has been folded on the desk chair.

“Try to sleep, rookie.”

“Sleep is so off season, Doc.” Lightning scoffs and burrows into his pillow. “Let me behind the wheel and I’ll. . .”

Tires spinning. Dirt flying. Turn right to go—

(“One day,” Monty asserts, laying on his sister’s shoulder. The tv screen glows black and white in the darkness of their little living room. “Someday soon, that’ll be me.”

He feels feels her hum more than he hears her. “Your hair’s in my nose.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear with your hair in my ear.”

“Chomp.”

“Chomp?”

“. . .”

“Did you bite—“)

“—my hair?” Monty mumbles in his pillow.

He hears a chuckle.

Gets everywhere, someone says.

He doesn’t know who. The door shuts quietly.

Lightning wakes up to a note on the bedside in Doc’s handwriting, saying he’ll be at the clinic til 5 or so. Then he checks his phone and there’s a text with the same message, because Doc figured he’d better appreciate that.

He sits up and stretches, letting out a lion’s yawn that tastes like a fresh start and all the sleep he could have asked for. His stomach draws wide circles in him and he glances about for that food Doc had promised.

Doc wouldn’t just leave food out for however long to go bad.

He finds some soup and a cup of strawberries in the fridge. Soup is never his first choice but the strawberries help it go down. He surprisingly doesn’t mind it as much as he usually does, especially when it’s hot and warms him right up. He’s all the more grateful that Doc didn’t leave it out to go bad (as opposed to Lightning, who hasn’t just once forgotten to put leftovers away before bed).

“He’s so cool,” Lightning sighs. The doorbell rings.

As he opens it, he’s met with the most beautiful sight.

“Howdy, doll.” Sally dips her sunglasses and smirks. “You got a date to the prom?”

He sips from his bowl and leans on the doorframe, fighting to hear himself over the speed of his heart. “She just showed up.”

Sally leans up to kiss him before he leaps back, hand over his mouth.

“Stickers?”

“I’m sick, Sal!”

Sally, angel she is, laughs and draws his hand down. She pecks him softly, like, wow. “S’not gonna stop me.”

“Hm?” He’s still reeling from how lovely it always is.

“Nothing, babe.” She walks through the living room and he bounds after, so happy to be together. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good.” He sits back down at the table and opens his arms, wraps the blanket he’s been wearing around them both. “Sleepy. Is that weird? I just woke up.”

“My poor, sick baby.” Sally’s kiss tastes like strawberries. Oh, the thief. “The soup should help.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like soup,” Light mumbles against her crown. “How’ve you been?”

She swirls one of the berries in the bowl, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Well it’s slow today, but most people aren’t rushing through our cute little town this time of year. Don’t get me wrong, I love the activity.” She sighs, takes a bite and Lightning plucks a piece of chicken from the bowl. “It’s just nice having it to ourselves every now and then, not having to deal with all the buzz Mr. Golden racer boy brings everywhere he goes.”

He snorts. “I wouldn’t say I’m that popular.”

“Sure. Sky’s not blue.”

“Maybe not to you.” And he means it, watching her nibble the soup-coated berry and gaze sleepily towards the window above the sink. Bluer than blue, everything she is. Beautiful and true.

“You wanna come by the Cone? I could keep you company.”

“Nah.” He moves the bowl towards her, stealing back his cup of fruit. “It was enough walking to the front door and back.”

“Don’t be a stranger, shortcake.” She moves off of his lap and he misses her already. “I’m calling every couple hours, hear me? If you don’t answer, I’ll peek through your window until you either shoo me off or I get tired of looking at you.”

He rolls his eyes. “In other words, I’d have to actually tell you to leave.” Impossible. He’d never want her to leave.

Her smirk is back. “I know how hard that is for you, so I’ll make the agonizing—“ Sally clutches her heart, lifts her knuckles to her brow “—sacrifice of leaving on my own. See what you’re doing to me, stickers? Do you see how much I go through for you?”

“Always.” He kisses the back of her hand, drops his forehead to it. “I love you.”

He feels her brush a curl behind his ear and knows that she’s the best he could have ever asked for. “I love you too, Lightning.”

They part soon after, with Sally reiterating her promise to check in regularly and Lightning promising to let her.

As he wraps himself in bed, belly comfortably full and face more relaxed, he wonders if he’s forgotten something. His eyes will fall closed and he’ll think he sees someone, he almost knows he does, but they’re gone as soon as he’s conscious of them. There’s a voice he hasn’t heard in years but could never forget. Someone’s hand in his, whispering reassurances behind a curtain. The murmur of an audience. Gone again, back to nothingness behind his eyes. And as it goes, each time.

He falls asleep on a stage, sharing a dream he’s left behind.

It’s loud this time of night, voices bleeding over each other as silverware and plates meet. The tv over the bar is low, far from the main diner and even farther from those just outside, but she catches things here and there all the same. She’s learned how to use her ears.

Racing season must be at its peak. The interviewer on air won’t stop babbling about that three-way tie. Maisie still can’t wrap her head around such a blunder. Least of all can she believe how reckless he was.

Monty never used to be so careless.

When the press shove their way to him (“McQueen! McQueen!”) he’s leaning on his car, smirk loose and proud, arms crossed as if he’s everything and more, the brat (he’s enough, always has been, but she never told him and that hits her harder and harder every night). He prides himself on this one-man show attitude. Maisie tries to get lost in anything else: her cider is bubbly and sweet, he’d like it, Monty’s so different now; the night is cool and deep and unlike the flashes on screen that capture his every move and perfect teeth (as if he ever knew when to stop eating candy. Did he break the habit?).

Ugh, this is her least favorite part of the night, having to sit and wonder. He’s not even thinking about her. Not with his flashy new lifestyle and adoring fans. She polishes off her cider, listening to someone on tv yell that they quit, but refusing to watch. She recalls the news articles detailing each crew Monty’s fired. Maisie leaves her glass at the bar, tips the bartender who smiles her way, asks if she’ll get along fine on her own. She hums noncommittally, adds a few more bills to his tip because he has been a real gentleman all night. She leaves before he can ask again.

In her car she melts against the steering wheel, exhaustion hitting her at once. She doesn’t have to be on set til 9-ish, so she can sleep until 7 or so and make the next town over on time. And right now it’s. . .

Well, if she’s back at the motel and in bed within the next forty-or-so minutes she’ll catch a few hours of sleep after accounting for the bug-watch she’ll be doing. As it goes.

(Why hadn’t he called?)

Why hasn’t she?

She pushes away the accusation, scoffs at it. She’s been busy, obviously. Busy getting background roles and sleeping with the lights on to avoid bugs, or keep them away, but either way she doesn’t sleep. Busy having to settle with a stale bagel each morning because of her allergies and the hotel staff never knowing what’s been used in their meals. Monty probably gets his food special-made. Maisie hopes he remembers to be mindful anyway. He seems fine so far, at least.

Fine enough without her. No reason to call.

Her thumb hovers over his contact in her phone, as it does at least twice a day. He’s on live tv. She could call and embarrass him, probably, if he bothers to pick up. In front of the camera? He’d be ridiculous to. It’s not out of his league, but he wouldn’t have his phone on him. Not just after a race. She couldn’t bring herself to do it anyway, to even taint his success, though it crawls under her skin to just. . .and maybe she’s different now, too.

Her hand shakes and her throat dries. She tosses the phone to the passenger side, breathes through the weight behind her eyes. She’s just tired. And very tempted to go back for a few more ciders, fooling herself into thinking she could afford it. But she’s a big girl. She can pull through without the sugary support.

Maisie drives through McDonald’s for a small coffee—it won’t do much for her, but it’ll make the night a little easier—and heads back to the motel.

It’s a quiet drive. She keeps the radio off, really in no mood for it, though she hasn’t been able to get that one song out of her head for a while.

“Life could be a dream. . .”

The city is its best at night. The lights always fill Maisie with nostalgia for those long, sleepy rides along the freeway, nodding off on her brother’s shoulder as mama drove home. She can’t feel the lights like she would her family, but they’re almost an embrace. They’re close enough.

In the back of her mind she sees those lights on the red carpet. Cameras flashing (“McQueen, McQueen!”) catching her every angle, every one her best. Capturing him, too, as they walk side by side in this dream they’d have built.

There they would be: on a stage doing their latest Broadway hit. Her makeup perfect and his wig finally right. Monty and Maisie, twin sensations.

She’s back at the hotel before she knows it. Her coffee is cold when she picks it up, and she’s no way to heat it. Maisie sighs and brings it in anyway.

She sets it on the small table under the mounted tv that doesn’t get any channels. She showers quickly, well past ready for bed. The stage comes and goes, but her thoughts keep Monty the rest of the night. Her thumb hovers over the contact.

Maisie falls asleep, phone in hand, missing a far-off dream and a far-away sibling.

#pixar cars #the au slowly comes together #Cars movie #cars au #humanized cars #lightning mcqueen #sally carrera #doc hudson #original character #cars oc #writing #my writing #cars fanfiction #siblings au #slight angst

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iamthecomet · 1 year ago

Note

Been thinking about throatfucking and mountaindew lately, where big guy stays buried and jacks himself whilst choking dew.

Maybe throw some Phaeon in there to help dew loosen up (I’m convinced quint ghouls can channel their magic through their dicks and no one can tell me otherwise)

(Also hello, love your fics!)

(hi, THANK YOU). Using this ask as Kinktober Day 23 - Face Fucking. So, thank you SO SO much for this DELICIOUS image. almost 1.2k of Mountain/Dew throat fucking. Ft. voyeur(ish) Aeon.

There are tears in Dew’s eyes. He’s trying to hide them by keeping his eyes closed, but Mountain can see them. The wetness stuck to those long pale lashes. He tightens his grip in Dew’s hair, presses himself a little deeper. Not that he really can. It’s the grind that matters. Dragging the head of his cock against Dew’s throat. He can’t go deeper–Dew has all of him. Lips pressed tight to Mountains’ pubic bone, drool dripping through his pubic hair and down to his balls.

Dew makes a pathetic little noise. More a gurgle than anything else. Vibrations rolling up over Mountain’s cock. Mountain feels himself pulse and Dew winces. He breathes through his nose, strained but steady.

From the other side of the room, Aeon watches. One leg thrown over the other. Leaning back in a chair, a beer from the mini-bar in his hand. He had his turn already. Spilling hot and thick down Dew’s throat under the guise of preparation. Quintessence flowing into Dew’s ever willing body, loosening muscles. Mountain’s pretty sure Dew could have taken him without it. Would have swallowed Mountain down without a second thought.

But that would have been less fun than watching Aeon ease his dick down Dew’s throat. Purring to him about how good he was doing. Babying him through it while Aeon fucked his throat hard enough that Dew has to be sore. Dew glared at him the whole time, torn between palming at himself and pretending not to be into the treatment.

There’s none of that bravado left in him now. His pants are unzipped, hand sliding up and down the wet length of his cock. Mountain watches the way his fingers tighten around the head, the little twist he gives at the end. Dew’s spilling pre like a water ghoul, dripping onto his fingers and onto the hotel floor. Mountain tries not to think about the stain it’ll leave.

“Just like that, Dew. Stay just like that,” he purrs. Scratching his fingers against Dew’s scalp where he holds him tight.

Dew’s eyes flutter open, he looks up at Mountain. His glamor is still up. Dew’s weird about it in hotel rooms sometimes, so the eyes that meet Mountain’s are blue. Copper in the very middle where Dew’s control is slipping just a little. Cracks of himself shining through. His pupils are blown wide. Eyes wet and ringed with tears.

Mountain drags the thumb of his free hand under one of them. Catching wetness against it. Dew blinks back, tries to keep that wetness away.

“He crying yet?” Aeon asks from across the room. Mountain glances over at him. Finds Aeon palming at himself. Already hard again.

“Almost,” Mountain answers, then turns his attention back to Dew. Back to the wet heat of Dew’s throat. Dew shifts and everything constricts. Mountain bites back a loud groan. Fights the urge to just fuck into Dew’s throat with abandon. After Aeon’s show Mountain’s a little hesitant to really give it to the little ghoul beneath him. He doesn’t want to hurt Dew. But seven hells does he want to cum.

Mountain slips his hand down, he curls his palm around Dew’s throat. Loose. But it doesn’t matter. Dew shudders as soon as he does it. Eyes starting to roll up. The threat of it enough to send another spurt of pre onto the low-pile carpet.

Mountain grinds in a little again. He can feel himself beneath his palm. Hard as he ever gets. Shifting beneath Dew’s skin. He presses down a little and finds he can feel that too. The constriction his own hand creates.

“Fuck,” Mountain holds Dew’s gaze as he gives a cursory thrust–small–but he feels it. Feels the pressure of his own hand. Feels the way Dew’s body gives to him on both sides. Bending to his will. The last dreges of quintessence making everything more fluid. Dew’s relaxed, easy. No tension coiled in any of his muscles. Throat open and slick. Mountain squeezes a little harder and Dew moans. Muffled around Mountain’s cock. It ends in a gurgle as he presses down a little more.

Mountain can’t take his eyes off of Dew. Over his hand on Dew’s throat–so big it engulfs him from Jaw to collarbone. Dew’s hand on his cock stutters, rhyhtm failing.

Dew’s still dressed. Mountain realizes belatedly. Dick just hanging out of his jeans where he strokes it. Band-T stained with drool and Aeon’s cum.

Dew is crying now. Mouth stretched around Mountain’s cock, tears running down his cheeks, eyes glassy as he fucks up into his own fist and Mountain does the same. Fucking into Dew’s throat and by extension the pressure of his own hand. Squeezing and releasing when he needs it.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Aeon mutters. Mountain hears the rasp of his zipper, then the sigh of relief as Aeon gets his hand on himself. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Mountain doesn’t have an answer. He can’t think about anything except how this feels. Tight and so hot and so wet. He barely has to pull out at all, just little rabbit quick thrusts into Dew’s throat, barely anything but it feels like everything. His toes curl in the carpet.

Mountain squeezes a little tighter as he presses forward, constricting around the head of his cock. The pressure makes Dew’s eyes roll back in his head. He huffs out one sharp breath through his noise, hot against Mountain’s skin, and then Dew’s cumming. Painting his jeans, the carpet, his lithe fingers with sticky white ropes.

Mountain outlasts him by seconds. Watching Dew’s body shudder, feeling the rhythmic clench of his throat, that’s all it takes before his orgasm is screaming up his spine. Veins going electric. He spills down Dew’s throat. Twitching and panting, a snarl ripped from his teeth as he pins Dew to his body.

Mountain lets go as soon as the world starts to clear, and Dew rolls back. Sits down hard on the carpet. He wipes his mouth and survey’s the mess as Mountain turns to try to find some clothes and something to clean Dew up with.

Aeon stands. Cock still hard, fingers wrapped tight around the base. He steps between Dew’s legs as Mountain is pulling sweatpants up over his hips.

He’s going to tell Aeon that Dew’s had enough, but then Aeon smears the sticky tip of his cock over Dew’s swollen lips and Dew smirks at him. Eyes no longer watery or glassy.

“Got one more in you, droplet?” Aeon asks, smacking the head of his cock against Dew’s cheek and leaving a slick smear.

Dew flashes him his teeth. “I’ve got more in me than you do.”

Mountain rolls his eyes and retreats to the bed. Heavy-limbed and satisfied. Content to watch the competition. He’s glad for the entertainment. Even if he already knows Dew’s going to win.

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willowser · 2 years ago

Text

katsuki jumps, startlingly, when you rub a hand up his back.

he's leaned too far down, bent over the counter at an angle that will give him an ache he'll complain about later, and his head whips up as you come to stand beside him. an e-mail on his phone is what previously had his full attention, but now he looks at you, eyes softening as you lean into his shoulder.

he's never been a very touchy guy. even after a year into your relationship, it's most often you reaching for his hand as you walk down the street; you pressing a kiss into his cheek while watching a movie on the couch; you running a hand through his hair as his breath steadies out beside you in bed.

it's not something you really complain about. you know how he is, knew before anything developed between the two of you, and you can't say it's a deal-breaker. there's little you know about his previous relationships or if he even had any, but you have the painful-gut feeling that affection just isn't something he's used to.

you press a smile into the sleeve of his shirt and his spine relaxes under your hand, finds that awful curve again. he watches you like he's waiting for something, tracing the tender details of your face.

"love you," you say, because do and you want to voice it aloud, put it into his mind even though you know he knows. as expected, his lips flatten into a wavering little line, shy suddenly, and your teeth wet the fabric of his shirt when you smile.

all you get is a little grunt in response and he dips his chin down in a wordless nod, accepting your lovey-dovey assault. it makes him feel a little helpless, you know, but you bring up an arm to wrap around him as he turns back to his phone, ears pink.

katsuki straightens with a dull pop!, stretching his arms up and allowing you to shuffle closer, so that your head is resting on his chest. you press your ear to it and wait, eyes closed, until the heavy promise of his heartbeat echoes like a drum in your ear. it's loud, and after a moment, your own falls into sync, right where it belongs.

"'s'wrong?"

"hm?" you glance up at him, the frown on his pink face, before breathing in the clean scent of his laundry soap. your laundry soap. and then you shake your head. "nothin'. just missed you."

"been home all day."

"i know," you sigh, letting your eyes fall shut again. the sound of his phone locking clicks and you can feel the slight down-slide of his sweatpants when he pockets it. "sometimes i miss you even though you're right here."

you expect — something; another grunt or laugh through his nose, a raspy little noise that voices his confusion. things like this can be hard for him; you know how he is, knew before anything ever developed between the two of you — but you don't think it makes him any less deserving.

katsuki steps back from you a little, and you feel the hesitant rise of his arm before you feel it. his hand comes up to your face — pink and scarred in your peripheral vision — and he tilts your head up, waits until you open your eyes.

when you do, it looks as if a million things are running through his head. his poker-face is good, it has to be, but you can see little bits of his vulnerability shining through. you wonder how long it's been since he showed it to anybody. he almost looks sad.

katsuki squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, and his frown deepens when you laugh. "y're so...damn weird."

that's along the lines of what you were anticipating: one of his teasing little insults, warm with a fire he's still learning how to kindle. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's kissing you, eyes shut tight, lashes brushing against your own.

you expect something soft, because affection is a fickle thing, from him — but his hand never falls from your face and his tongue is sliding with yours suddenly, a heated gesture that throws your heart out of whack. you let him kiss you as deeply as he can, until your back arches painfully backward over the counter as he leans into you.

when he pulls away, his lips are a little swollen and his cheeks are burning, as he presses one into yours. "i—jus'—" katsuki tries and then abandons it, a hand curling into the material of your shirt. "i get it." he murmurs, there, into the heated skin of your face, heart beating in time with yours.

things like this are hard with him — but he makes them so, so worth it.

#i like to think he's a lil too rough #wants to hold your face in his hands and ends up squishing you #kisses you with the potential to bruise #bc he's so unpracticed !!#cute !! what a nerd !!#and i think he can be a lil reserved with affection :( and so he knows :( what it means to miss you even though you're right there :(#all the things he wishes he could say and can't :(#hi.#i am actually feeling a bit helpless in the big writing world LOL #i'm happy with what i'm writing ! and will keep writing it !#but in the back of my mind #i just keep thinking that i want to write something really really good for bakugou #something that matters :(#idk ! i'm just feeling a bit dramatic and off today !!#so have this soft gooey piece as an offering #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: domestic bakugou

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sugarlywhispers · 2 years ago

Text

b.katsuki + gf gives him a blowjob

☆—fem reader, SMUT, PWP, oral sex (giving/receiving), swearing, some degrading words, if you squint, maybe a bit of voyeur🙈

☆—a/n; i have been having a LOT of thoughts about bakugou katsuki, and while this was already written and saved in my drafts, i just needed this to be him, so here it is~🤭😉

"Iwannasuckacock."

The first mumble of words that leave your mouth as soon as he settles in the couch next to you are unintelligible for Katsuki to comprehend, but then the whole sentence gets clear when you repeat yourself after his "Huh?".

"I wanna suck your cock…"

Katsuki chokes on the water he was just swallowing at the moment. "W-what?"

You don't even dare to look at him, fingers fidgeting over your lap expressing how nervous you are; yet when he chokes, you smile amused, satisfied with his reaction.

"You dumbass... You did that on purpose," He cleans his mouth with his forearm, trying to gain some control over his wild thoughts.

"Don't act like you haven't thought about it," your face is so full of cockiness he just can't believe this is the same Y/N that a couple of hours ago blushed a deep red when he stole a kiss behind a cupboard door in the kitchen. He just wants to beat the shit out of you for being an ass right now and then kiss it better, hard.

Feeling exposed by your words, Bakugou swallows dry, visibly anxious, and your face lights up with surprise and amusement. "You horny dog. You actually thought about it!"

"Well, I am now, you brat."

You smirk, then Katsuki follows the movement of your mouth when you bite your bottom lip. "And?"

"And, what?"

"Tsuki… I just want your cock in my mouth," he hates that stupid nickname you sometimes call him, but he hasn't time to be annoyed as you move closer to him on the couch, looking at him with those gorgeous, pleading eyes that only make him imagine how sexy and teary they would look once his cock is fully down your throat. He gulps again. "And guess what you have, silly."

Your hand lands on his clothed thigh, starting to rub up close to his dick and down to his knee.

"Y/N, don't," he breathes out, trying to hold on to the very little self-control he has left.

It's late at night, your other two roommates are all in their respective rooms. Probably sleeping already, probably not. The only ones in the living room still watching–or that's what he thought you were going to do–that movie are you and Bakugou. It was a boring movie if he was being honest, so he would definitely be a liar if he said that he hasn't been thinking about other, more interesting, things to do than watching that stupid movie.

"Come on, Tsuki... Please?"

Fuck.

That's all he can think when you drop to your knees in between his thighs, smiling innocently while saying those words and rubbing your cheek on his crotch area, where his growing need is pretty clear.

"Y/N, damn it, the others could-… Fuck," the sentence ends in a breathed insult as the woman between his legs yanks his hips a little to the edge of the couch, hands grabbing his sweatpants and pulling them down his legs.

Such a strength for a cute little thing, he thinks somehow proud. And horny.

You look up at Katsuki with lustful eyes, your face getting closer to his dick, your breath tingling all the skin of that area; and then you lick over the fabric of his boxers from the base to the clothed tip. A low growl escapes him as he watches your actions, the stupid clothes feeling too tight and the only thing he wants is to throw it away to give this gorgeous being in between his legs free allowance to whichever part of his body you want from him.

The lecherous smile that spreads on your face only indicates how badly in need of a good release he is probably looking like right now.

And Katsuki bites his lip, because you have to remember something.

His big hand slides from your cute, delicate face towards the back of your head, where his fingers tangle in your gorgeous hair, and he pulls it back, making you expose your delectable neck to him.

He smirks at the needy whine that glides from your lips.

Yes. Katsuki's the one in control. Always.

His lips attach themselves to your neck, kissing, licking, and nibbling the skin on their way up to your ear.

“Take them off, baby girl,” the low tone in his voice makes you squirm, your pussy pulsing in need inside your panties. You nod enthusiastically and he lets you go, his back resting comfortably against the couch while he watches you take his boxers off with the same enthusiasm in your hands and throw them somewhere in the living room. You're desperate, he can see it in your eyes; yet when you accomplish your work, you sit there, on your knees between his legs, cheeks flushed, eyes begging while biting your plump lower lip. You're waiting for his next order, and Katsuki smiles proudly.

“Good girl. Now, come here, baby. Make me cum with that slutty mouth of yours.”

“Fuck, yes,” you whimper in a whine, your hands caressing his thighs and face closing the distance between your mouth and his hard cock that lays over his stomach.

Katsuki's breathy swear turns into a low groan when you lick up the length of him. “Fuck,” your mouth opens and you shove his cock into the warmth of your mouth, and all he can think is ‘fucking finally’.

You hum in contentment, the vibration making him shiver, as your tongue licks around the head and your hand strokes the rest of him that isn’t in your mouth yet. You squeeze the base, earning a jerk from his hips that pulls more of his length inside.

"Shit, shit, shit…"

You lift your eyes and meet Katsuki's lust-blown gaze. That, and his rapid intakes of breath, only encourages you to keep going. Your tongue rolls around the tip, expertly knowing where to touch it to make him go crazy. You then suck him all the way into your mouth. "Baby…" He drops his head back, eyes closed, feeling the tightness of your throat so damn good that it makes him want to moan out loud, but Katsuki has to muffle the sound by biting the back of his hand. He really doesn't want any of your friends waking up.

You take him deep inside again, then out, and then in again.

“Fuck… You’re such an eager slut.”

His dick twitches and pulses, and you open your mouth taking him even deeper. Katsuki can feel the wave of pleasure starting from his tiptoes and rushing up his body fast. Fingers tangle in your hair and pull again. His hips begin to rise up and down quickly and with one more thrust, his orgasm shoots into the back of your throat.

He cries out in a low tone with every spurt and you hum in appreciation swallowing, making his body curl forward as you suck him through your release.

He ends up yanking your head off him and kisses you, tongue devouring your mouth full of his own cum. You moan into the kiss while getting up and straddling his hips.

“I fucking hate you,” Katsuki mutters against your lips.

You smirk, “I just made you cum, you don’t hate me.”

“No, you're right. I don’t hate you. I just wanna fuck the lights out you…” he smiles back.

Your needy whine fills the room as you start to rub your already wet pussy against him. "Please, please, please…"

He smirks wider. “You want it, slut?”

“Yes, God, please… Inside me,” you beg, lips ghosting his. His hands squeeze your cute ass, following and encouraging your movements. Katsuki smacks it once, hard, and you choke on a moan.

“Then that ass is gonna be mine.”

You giggle at his words, circling his neck with your arms as he stands up with you in his and starts his way towards your bedroom.

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