Tumgik
#and the thing is. i have such a big cushion now that i could take time off to evaluate what i want but I'm a monkey on a branch
scientia-rex · 1 month
Text
A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.
If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.
If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.
If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.
If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.
You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.
You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.
But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.
Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.
16K notes · View notes
asiananeurysm · 8 months
Text
.
0 notes
moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
PLEASE!!! im on my hands n knees begging. poly!mauraders with a hyper partner that give off golden retriever vibes I BEG
Happy to oblige my love!
poly!marauders x golden retriever!reader ♡ 1k words
Sirius is still in the process of waking up when you come inside, bags of groceries in your arms. 
“Morning!” You lean over the top of the couch to kiss his cheek as you go by, all but skipping into the kitchen. “Have you been outside? It’s gorgeous.” 
Sirius levels you with a deadpan look. “Do I look like I’ve been outside?” 
“You should,” you say, undeterred by his attitude. “Spring is in the air! The sun is out, the trees are starting to get their little flowers—I even bought us some tulips to put on the table.” 
“That’s nice,” he mumbles, sinking deeper into the cushions. He knows he really should help you unload the groceries, but it feels like his bones have been replaced by barbells. Luckily, he hears a set of footsteps coming down the hall. 
“Hey, sunshine.” James comes in fully dressed, pecking you on the lips before starting the coffee machine. “What’d you get?” 
“I got tulips,” you tell him excitedly. “Have you been outside? It’s a really lovely day.” 
James smiles, sliding one of the bags away from you as you start snipping the stems of your tulips so they’ll fit in a vase. “Yeah, I poked my head out for a sec. It is nice.” His glance slides over to where Sirius languishes on the couch, grin going somewhat cocky. “Morning, Sirius. You could help with the groceries, you know.” 
Sirius waves his hand. “Two of you are enough.” 
The coffee machine starts to gurgle, summoning Remus like a siren’s call. He trudges out of the bedroom, sleep clinging to his frame. Sirius opens his arms commiseratingly.
“It’s hardly ten,” Remus grunts as he collapses into them. “How have they already been productive?” 
“I know, they’re so perky.” Sirius pets down the cowlick at the back of his boyfriend’s head. “It’s freakish.” 
“You’re freakish,” you say brightly, bringing them each a cup of coffee. Sirius has no clue how you’ve managed to unload the groceries so fast, or where you found the time to doctor his coffee the way he likes it. You’re like a machine. You laugh giddily when he nips at your fingers as you pull away. “Remus, wait until you see the weather outside, it’s so perfect. I think we should have a picnic. What do you say?” 
“I say it’s too early for decisions,” he mumbles, sitting up off Sirius so he can drink his coffee. “But that sounds nice.” 
You beam as if you’ve gotten a full-stop go-ahead, breezing back towards the kitchen. “We can make brownies,” you say, bringing your vase of tulips to the table, “and sandwiches, and lemonade. And we can go to that park with the stream—what’s the one?” 
You look to James, who in turn looks to Remus. 
“Mayfield,” Remus says. 
“Right! We can go to Mayfield park, and hike over to that meadow-y area.” Sirius glances your way, and you’ve already started taking down the ingredients for brownies. “It’s so sunny and nice out, you guys won’t believe it. We can bring a frisbee or something.” 
“Hiking and frisbee?” Sirius murmurs to Remus. “I don’t like the sound of all this activity.” Remus snorts. 
“That sounds great, angel.” James apprehends you before you can start pouring things into the mixing bowl, putting a mug of decaf tea in your hand and steering you towards the living room. “I think these guys are going to take a bit to be ready for all that, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” 
“Right.” You look a bit abashed, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce in the big armchair. “Yeah, we don’t have to go, like, right now. You guys just woke up.” 
“Thanks for noticing,” Sirius says wryly. But when you fidget in your seat and he can feel James’ glare boring into the side of his head, he throws in an eye roll of feigned reluctance. “Get over here.” 
You happily transfer into his lap, letting him brush your hair aside and squealing when he plants a wet, squelching kiss on your neck. Remus, sensing that Sirius’ attention has a new captive, leans back into James, who winds his arms around Remus’ middle gamely. 
“Now why would we go outside,” Sirius asks, nosing at the underside of your jaw as you giggle and squirm, “when we can just do this all day?” 
“You could just as easily do it outside,” James points out. Sirius whines petulantly against your skin, setting you giggling again. 
“He’s right,” you reason, transferring your tea to your other hand so you can wrestle Sirius away from your neck. “We could do this in the sun, with wildflowers and trees around.” 
He pouts. “But you know I burn easily,” he says, “and poor Remus’ hip can’t take the hike.” 
“You don’t know what I can take,” Remus huffs, and Sirius realizes he’s chosen the wrong avenue for his argument. “If my hip hurts, it’s only because your mum was so rough last night.” 
“I don’t particularly enjoy being compared to Sirius’ mum,” says James. Remus’ ears go a bit pink as he mumbles an apology. 
“I won’t let you burn,” you tell Sirius. “You can use sunblock, or we’ll find you a nice shady spot. And Remus, if your hip’s bothering you, we can always find another park. One without a hike.” 
Any vexation that might usually be summoned in Remus by mention of his aches and pains melts away in the face of your earnestness. “Thanks, dove, but I’m alright,” he says. “It’s fine today.” 
James rubs the skin just above Remus’ hip lovingly, and you send him a beaming smile. “It’s probably because it’s so nice out,” you say. 
“Yeah, Sirius,” James turns on him. “It’s so nice out. Do you really want to miss out on what could be the single most beautiful day of the year?” 
Sirius really could give a shit, but he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let’s picnic.” 
“Yay!” You won’t be contained any longer, hopping up from his lap. “I’m going to go get the frisbee.” 
“The frisbee’s in the attic,” Remus muses, then raises his voice so you can hear him. “Don’t go up in the attic by yourself.” 
“I can get it,” you call back. 
“Don’t,” he warns. “You need someone to hold the ladder, just—” The ladder groans as it comes down and Remus echoes it, starting to stand. But James pats him on the shoulder, encouraging Remus back down as he gets up. 
“Slow your roll, angel,” he calls ahead. “I’m coming.”
1K notes · View notes
𝕱𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
Part three of this, but can be read individually:)
Pairing: Alastor x Doe!fem reader
Summary: It’s basically a bunch of snippets of Reader being pregnant (if you would like to read more about it, more scenarios and details, feel free to request!)
Warning: talks of pregnancy(like, a lot), smut, breeding, possessiveness, lactation kink, mentions of birth, etc…
Tumblr media
Alastor wasn’t too surprised when a few months after their first mating, her body started changing.
I mean, they were really worked up, all the time. After their first time they stayed in her room and nest for two weeks, barely coming out. Alastor was the one who sent his shadow down to bring them food, a lot of food. He tried to feed her as much as possible.
“You need to eat as much as you can, doe.” He had her favorite pasta, like… a lot of it and he insisted on feeding her himself. So there he was, holding a spoon that was packed with pasta, however she shook her head and pulled away.
“Alastor, I am afraid to gain too much.” Her ears flattened on her head in shame. “What if you won’t find me beautiful? And you won’t want me as your mate anymore…?” Her eyes were rimmed with tears. He gathered her face in his palms, that were as big as her head, he gave her a long kiss on her forehead.
“My darling doe, how could I not find you the most beautiful creature in this world? You’re mine, my mate and my everything. And you are doing the most beautiful things one could do, you’re giving me a little fawn. You’re about to go through pain and discomfort just so we can hold our own in our arms. How could you worry about some extra weight on you?” He knew what calmed her down always, he put her on his lap and leaned her head into his neck, so she could feel his scent more strongly. “You need to nourish your body so you could nourish our baby, your body needs nutrients to produce milk and keep the baby warm.” He rocked her from side to side. That did it. After that, she ate the bigger portions that he gave her.
But, after a bit, it was evident that her weight gain wasn’t due to her eating habits. It was due to the little fawn that was growing inside of her.
Alastor was worried about her, she was not quite herself. She never threw up, but felt nauseous from nearly everything. She also slept whenever and wherever she could. She went to sleep early, woke up late, and still somehow found time to take naps. Husk was actually the one who told Alastor that there could be something up with Y/N. One early afternoon, Husk was cleaning glasses when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, she sat down on the couch with her notebook in hand. He turned away for a second to put the glass back into it’s place, and when he turned back, Y/N was already deeply asleep on the couch.
Alastor was terrified on the inside at first, they finally find each other, only so he could lose her? What if she was sick? He couldn’t bear to see his mate fading away before his very eyes.
All of his worries went away when Y/N got an even bigger appetite for sex than before, they already fucked like rabbits. But now? It didn’t matter where they were or what time it was or what were they doing. No. If his darling wanted to fuck, he would fuck. Luckily, Alastor disliked not having her around the hotel, it was still dangerous for her out there. So, he fucked her on every solid surface in the hotel, with zero shame.
One thing about mates is that after they did their mating, the doe would start picking up certain characteristics from the buck. They noticed the first time when Vaggie pointed it out. Alastor and Charlie were working out plans for the hotel, and of course their partners had to be there for moral support, Vaggie and Y/N were sitting on the cushion in her’s and Charlie’s room, the one that is in front of the huge window. Y/N was staring out the window, completely lost in thought, the other woman snapped her out of her thoughts by gently wrapping her index finger in one of Y/N’s locks.
“This is new, I didn’t know you wanted to dye it, but it suits you.” She smiled, but Y/N looked at her with evident confusion.
“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.
“Your hair?”
“What about it?”
Vaggie only chuckled and led her to Charlie’s vanity, where she held up one strand of Y/N hair, which was… red and with a slight blackish tint at the bottom, along with quite a few locks of her hair.
To the movement, both Alastor and Charlie went to the vanity too.
“Oh. My. GOD!” Charlie shrieked in joy.
“Why, what a pleasant surprise!” He said before noticing that the tip of her ears were also developing a crimson color. He leaned down and started running his finger up and down her ear, causing her to lean into the gentle touch and flatten her ears against her hair.
Weeks went by and the changes became noticeable, Angel Dust immediately planned a brand new wardrobe for her to match the colors of her hair and ears. Even when Alastor had to go into town for business, he always made sure that his Y/N wasn’t alone, it was mostly Angel and Husk who kept her company. It was the situation now, Alastor had to leave for an Overlord meeting, and Y/N was in Angel’s room. He thought it would be a fun activity to have the doe try on his slutty clothes, but she liked it, she felt sexy.
She felt the physical aspects of her change of appearance lately, but she couldn’t make sure.
“Angie, I cannot zip this up! I would hate to ruin it.” She was laughing at herself, she was twirling like a fool, trying to reach for the skirt’s zipper herself, and failing miserably.
Angel pushed himself up from the bed, with a big smile on his face. “Here, let me, that one always gets stuck and I have four arms for a reason!” He tried to make it happen, but something was just in the way. He made her turn around to kneel in front of her, trying to see what was stopping the tiny zipper.
And that is when he saw it…
“HOLY SHIT!” His concentrated eyes changed immediately to surprised ones.
She looked down at him in panic, feeling a sudden pang of guilt, and tears. “What? I ripped it?! I am so so so sor—“
He just stood up laughing and put her in front of the mirror, so she could see herself from the side. She was still feeling sorry about the non existent rip that she didn’t even notice what he was trying to do.
His soft hand came up to her chin, so she could look into his eyes and then he guided her gaze to the mirror. “Y/N, look! There is a reason that the skirt didn’t want to zip up.” His fingers grabbed the bottom of the skirt to pull it lower, revealing her stomach.
Before she even had time to register what was happening, his lower set of arms came up to cup the lower part of her belly, which was slightly swollen.
She was shocked to say the least, but in a happy way. She was still staring at it from the mirror when Angel’s upper arms came to envelop her into a hug.
“Oh, Y/N… You are going to be the best mama, I know it.” After they broke apart from the hug, he lifted one eyebrow. “Sooo… Creepy face fucks good…?”
“…Fuck yeah.” They both started laughing, until Y/N was hit by her pregnancy hormones. One moment she was laughing, she was sobbing the next. Thankfully , Angel stayed with her until Alastor arrived back home. He held her and cried tears of joy with her. He tucked her in with his softest blanket, poor thing needed a nap after shedding so many tears. Fat Nuggets was curled up at her belly, and Angel slept close to her, too. Feeling protective over his best friend who was cooking up something beautiful inside of her.
That explained a lot. Her emotions, her sudden waves of horniness, her constant nausea and tiredness. No wonder all these things were happening to her.
She was expecting a little fawn, her and Alastor’s little fawn. A tiny fruit of their mating.
When Alastor arrived back, he knocked on Angel’s door and the sleepy spider opened it up. He let him in and they both looked at Y/N, who was asleep and cuddling with Fat Nuggets.
“I might just get jealous.” Alastor spoke in a hushed tone, then made her way to her side. He reached under her and gathered her in his arms in bridal style.
After saying farewell to Angel, he took his mate back to their room. He put her in their soft bed and laid beside her, snuggling her into his arms. She woke up when she felt his skin warming hers, this was the perfect opportunity.
“Alastor…?” She whispered, he was looking down at her, admiring his love.
“Hello there, my dear. Had fun with Angel?” He caressed her hair. But she leaned up on her elbows and towered over his side. Her silk nightgown was bigger on her form, so her tiny belly bump wasn’t visible.
“I have something for you…” she smiled, a genuine smile. He chuckled and pushed her strands of hair out of her face, those particular strands were just like his own. It made his primal and possessive self go mad, it was obvious to everyone that she belonged to the radio demon.
He kept looking at her with a love-dazed expression, waiting for her to continue. She pushed the straps of her lacy gown down her shoulders and she started to pull it over her head. “Well, this is certainly a beautiful sight.” His eyes were glued to her boobs.
“I have something better…” She straddled him and kissed him deeply. After a few seconds they were still lost in each other's lips. “I” kiss. “Cannot” kiss. “Wait” kiss. “To fee—“ She pushed her swollen belly into his lower ribs, not harshly, but enough to make him notice. “What is..?” He pulled away and checked her lower stomach, and that was when he saw it.
“My doe…I—“ He palmed her skin, it felt firm, but oh so very soft. His eyes softened and went glassy. His hands could feel the little life inside of her, where their little fawn was nestled into her womb.
He suddenly wrapped her up in his arms and attacked her bump with big smooches. “We did it! You’re carrying our baby, we will have our own baby!”
I think we all know that after Alastor was aware of his doe being pregnant, he practically became her shadow. He followed her everywhere. Helped her with everything, actually… He didn’t help her, he did everything for her.
His protectiveness got on a whole new level. There wasn’t a second of the day when his eyes weren’t on her, or his hands anywhere else but on her skin.
Angel kept his mouth shut, and waited for the two deers to tell everyone the big news, which was a few days after her bump’s appearance. What? They had their own celebrating rounds, multiple of them actually, like… multiple rounds every few hours. They needed each other in their bed and in their arms.
Charlie couldn’t stop crying at the news, she was so happy, she instantly started ordering a shit ton of books about babies. Vaggie was better at hiding her emotions, but she could not stop the smile that etched itself onto her lips, she instantly occupied herself by sharpening her spear. No fawn will ever be harmed on her watch!
As time went by and the bump was clearly evident, Y/N noticed how much others lingered in her presence. Vaggie was looking out for any danger. Charlie always talked to the baby and touched Y/N’s stomach. Angel couldn’t help but buy everything baby-related that he found cute. “What? It is my duty as Uncle Dust to make sure the fawn is a fashion icon from day one.” He said one day when he knocked on the deers shared room, with all of his hands full with shopping bags. Sir Pentious and Cherri were always lingering with Vaggie, their main priorities were protection. Pentious also made his egg bois baby-proof every surface.
They went to Cannibal town to pay a visit to one of Alastor’s dearest friends, Rosie. Y/N was wearing a dress that was tight around her boobs, but flowy at her belly. They made their way to her shop and it was so heartwarming to see the cannibal woman’s smile light up at the sight of them. She instantly ushered the crowd away to take a closer look.
“Oh Alastor! I don’t see you for a few weeks and you bring such a beautiful young lady to me?” Rosie caressed the doe’s cheeks with her manicured fingers. “I’m Rosie, and, oh… My, my. What a beauty you are! I see you two have grown quite accustomed to each other.” She noticed their similar features. Rosie suddenly opened her arms to envelop Y/N in a hug. “Come, come, darl—“ Of course, there was the bump. Her mouth dropped open and her fingers shot up to her lips. (Imagine her facial expressions in the Overlord meeting scenes here haha) “Oh, my darling. Congratulations!” Her hands were immediately all over her tummy. She ushered the pair to sit down., especially Y/N. “Sit down, dearie, you must be exhausted. Carrying that belly all the time.”
They talked and talked. Then Alastor revealed the reason for their visit.
“Rosie, me and my darling talked. And we decided that we would be honored if you could help Y/N deliver our fawn.” Rosie had helped many women through births, so Alastor knew that Y/N and the baby would be in the best possible hands. Who would have guessed that a cannibal could be the perfect midwife?
“I would be the one honored. Of course, I’ll help!” She wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to cup her tummy, while leaning closer to her. “We will get that baby out in no time!” After Rosie explaining everything she could about bringing a baby into the world.
If Alastor really couldn’t be around, it was Husk who was around Y/N. One time, Alastor had to discuss business with Carmilla and at the same time a very pregnant Y/N demanded a walk. So, Husk went with her, but not before he made her a sugary non-alcoholic drink that could keep up her energy. On the walk, Husk had one of his wings around her, shielding her and the precious belly from any harm. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, especially when he felt a little kick against his wing at her belly, it made him get more attached to that little hellspawn. Of course he had a pocket full of his weapon like cards. You know, just in case.
Alastor knew that he was truly in love with his sweet mate, who was carrying his baby under her heart wherever she went. His favorite part of everyday was the hours before they went to sleep. They went back to their room every late afternoon, which consisted of her getting fluffed into the best silky pillows he could find, and him laying his head on her belly. Nothing calmed him down more than feeling his doe’s skin on his cheek and hearing the little movements of his baby.
Y/N was excited and nervous as fuck at the same time. Alastor noticed it, of course. When they went to sleep, his ears perked up to the sound of her constant tossing and turning. He gathered her face into his hands. “What’s wrong, little doe? Anything hurt? Is the fawn kicking up a storm again?” He smiled gently at her.
“What if something happens during the birth?”
He kissed her face, there wasn’t an inch of her skin that his lips haven’t touched..
“Everything will be okay, my doe. You are strong, I know that you are. You will push through it, and you will recover.” She pulled away and sat up on her knees.
“You don’t understand, Alastor. I don’t care about myself. The baby is who I’m worried about, it is all I can think about.” She was getting herself worked up, while Alastor started to bite back a smirk. She didn’t notice the change of her form. “But one thing I know… I would f̸͔̘͚͉̀͗̍̾́͜u̷͇̞̦̻̮͆̈́͐͛̓c̷̮̥̙͇͗̋̃͘͠ͅḱ̷̟͍͎͔̖͗͋̐́ǐ̵̡̙̼̼̻̈́̍͝n̵̜͖̠̰͎̊͋͊̋͛g̴̦̥̜̜͍͂͂̀̀̔ ̷̤̖͕̬̹͆̈́̐̏d̷̡̧̺̦͕̾̓̃́̅ì̵̙̼̖̯̈͒͐̽ͅé̴̱͎͇̫̝̂́̈́͊ ̴͉̩̜̼̞̏́̽̍͝f̷̭͓̬̘̠̓̔͗́̀ǫ̵̖̤̬̭̾́̀̒͝r̷͎̤̬̦̞̎́̓͆̚ ̸̹͍̭̖͚̄̄̈́̏̄ȍ̷̱͔͉̠̲̆͛̀̿ȗ̸̡͍̮͍̞̀̋̈͂r̶̛̘͍̟̜̮͒̎̑̈́ ̶̜͕̼̝̓̾͊͛͘ͅf̴̨̤͙̰͇͋̓̿̐̕ȁ̸͔̹̯̲̗̅̉͂̽ẘ̸̥͙͔̠͎̊͗̓̚n̵̡̯͎̝͓̽͊̒̉̀.̸̱͓̺͍̔̑̑̿̏ͅ”
Her voice went static, like his does. Her limbs became longer and her eyes went red. Even with her demonic form, her belly still poked out. He sat up and grabbed her face, suddenly pulling her into a passionate kiss. She instantly went back to her proper form, kissing him with nearly twice as much passion. She straddled his lap, already grinding against his hard on, while his claws ripped her nightgown. “God, you make me fucking crazy.” He said while she grabbed a hold of his pajama button up and ripped it apart, sending buttons to fly everywhere. By the time his mind had acknowledged it, she was already taking out his leaking hard cock out of his underwear.
His sharp teeth kept on nibbling all around her neck. “Not a bad form, my doe, becoming too much like your mate?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t think it really bothers you, does it?” Her hands wrapped around his erection, feeling how hard he got from the sight of her, and lining it up with her entrance.
“Oh—How could it bother me? My mate, forming into a demon before my eyes, with a big belly. Don’t worry, you looked so very sexy… I just want to…” He grabbed a hold of her wider hips and pulled her down onto his cock. “Fuck you so hard that I knock you up again.. You look so amazing, I can finally grip you properly.” His nails nearly broke the skin on her hips.
She was riding him as if her life was depending on it, swirling her hips and bouncing up and down. He started pounding up into her, meeting her thrusts, feeling the deepest parts of her. He noticed her nipples beginning to lactate, so he latched his lips onto her, sucking harshly. She was surprised when he did that, but moaned with a deep voice. It was so intimate, it also made him fuck up into her way harder than before.
“You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.” He felt her orgasming around him, so he filled her up with his seed. She fell against his chest, heaving and tired.
He started caressing her back. “Good girl. You’re so good to me… Taking care of me so nicely, while holding our fawn within your womb.” He leaned his head on the top of hers, enjoying the way her soft ears made his skin tingle.
“You’re going to be the best mother, my love.”
Tumblr media
Still no fawn! Don’t worry, there will be more, I just went overboard and I felt like Reader giving birth in this would have made it too long:)
Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o
842 notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
1fur1 Price part 2
(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)
Tumblr media
The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.
Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…
Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.
He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.
You appreciate the help.
It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.
“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.
Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.
Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.
“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”
You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.
Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.
“Jesus, enough!” You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”
He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.
“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”
You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.
“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.
You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.
“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.
You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.
“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.
With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.
“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”
A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.
“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”
Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.
So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.
You’re being minded.
It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.
“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”
And work he does.
If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.
And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.
There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.
It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.
“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”
Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.
“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”
A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.
“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.
Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.
“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.
All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.
“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”
Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.
“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”
You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.
1K notes · View notes
benkeibear · 3 months
Text
⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰ ͜͡➸ In which their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship.
❖ Characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki
❖ Reader: female | AFAB
❖ Wordcount: 4,3k
❖ WARNINGS: Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed and slapped (accidentally), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort
❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Part 2 with Nanami, Yuuji and Gojo in works! A big thank you to @kakushino and @suyacho for the brainstorming and making me pull through 🫶
Tumblr media Tumblr media
☰ Toji:
Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight, but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb, you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.
You don't even know what started the fight today - was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour; your throat was already sore, but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'd take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet,” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.
Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were just throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig." It wasn't too bad, but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face, but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure, when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you look at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.
Ever so slowly, he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex, you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how badly he had messed up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer. “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again, he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.
Relief was the first thing you felt when you finally felt like you could exhale once again. The air was less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall was gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, was now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room, but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji has left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, it didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.
After what felt like an eternity on the floor, you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things - you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was in your head. Dedicated, you brought the pieces to the living room, where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece, you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat like it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?
Once the distraction wore off, you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting in his favorite spot and the silence was deafening. The show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asked you if you're still watching, and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him, but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense like all the others before, so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…
Slowly, you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept. His show was now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you, replaying in your head over and over again.
Toji wandered around the block at first, contemplating getting drunk out of his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted, so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer, but the longer he sat there, the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.
By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already. The birds were chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after all, but he would promise to be better. He vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen, but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, the realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.
Shaking his head at his thought, he made his way back to the door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection that he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation, or perhaps the divorce you surely wanted?
“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone. He was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words, especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here. Both of you were uncomfortable with the situation, but you were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you would say to him. But right now, this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.
“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast. Do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear, but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.
Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while, but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and that you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.
Tumblr media
☰ Yuuta:
You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usual, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not, you found yourself alone in your shared home, talking limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind, even if he's not physically with you, especially then, but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.
This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places, so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously, he charged after you, “Wait, please. Let me explain!” He called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace, but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.
And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy, as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him, it felt as if your skin was burning. You quickly tugged your hand out of his grasp and glared at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu,” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he wouldn't be home for at least another five days, but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?
The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two was charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally, but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially for the dumbest reasons, but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone made him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him, but the air around you was so thick that he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much that you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this, but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know, he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.
Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calmed down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you fear the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you, so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you had asked, showing him he makes you uncomfortable, but before he could stop it, it was already too late.
Rika pushed you away from him much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.
The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm, but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears had become a reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. You were just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta, who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.
“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort, but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.
His head snapped around, looking for a way out of here. Perhaps he could jump out of the window, or is it too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was you utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction. Panicked eyes finally looked at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing, he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction from Rika, so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, your body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry, my love,” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to call both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.
Hours later, neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he had just broken the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry.” You eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you, but he quickly shook his head. “Don't..." It's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you,” he whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed, he would have had doubts as well, so he couldn't blame you.
Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.
Tumblr media
☰ Inumaki:
You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech, you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and he hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point that his friends automatically spoke of both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.
Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you, but he would never dare say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against his will. This was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again. “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you,” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks, already knowing what plagues his handsome head.
Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you didn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength that the slap echoed off the walls, followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away and the tears that started to form in your eyes caused him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry, it was an accident” over and over, but it felt like his hands were knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident, but it still hurt you - the tears were only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.
But the way you refused to even look at him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention, you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… He tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here.” These words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.
No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.
Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace, despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it. It felt so wrong to him, but he needed you to forgive him for accidentally hurting you and for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back, he was met with a face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even,” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man. You wanted to scream and explode at him, but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended. “We were play-fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand I do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.
Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, his eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he could hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort to not speak, he can mess up.
With trembling hands, he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort, he signed words that were unclear, but you knew what he meant. “Please hold me." You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you are and that he really had no malicious intentions, you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. "Love,” he mumbled out, knowing this one word wouldn't make you do anything, but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out loud. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped, but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship, but the bond you share will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be even more careful now.
Tumblr media
Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network
1K notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 1 year
Note
can I request the first time shy!reader spends the night at eddie’s? maybe she falls asleep during movie night and he just doesn’t have the heart to wake her up? lots of snuggles ensue?!
ohmygosh thank you so much for this adorable req I love u so much. hope this is what u wanted angel!
shy!fem!reader 1.3k words
Eddie comes back from the bathroom and into the living room, only to stop dead in the doorway.
You’ve fallen asleep. On his couch. Well, technically his and Wayne’s, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you’re fast asleep and you look so lovely and peaceful and Eddie actually had to grab the doorframe to stop himself from falling over.
To be trusted so much that you’ve allowed yourself to fall asleep at his place feels like a big step to Eddie. You’re a shy girl, always cautious, overly polite. Eddie remembers the first time you’d been over to his trailer, you were so quiet, so scared of doing or saying something wrong.
And now look at you.
Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He practically skips the rest of the way to the couch, desperate to be close to you again, a newfound fondness for you burning in his chest that can only be cured by sitting as close as humanly possible to you. He sits down in the space he’d left, his thigh pressed to yours. Your body has tipped away from him, your head resting on a stack of cushions balanced on the arm of the couch.
The credits of the movie you’d been watching with him play on, but Eddie’s too busy looking at you, drinking up every inch of you. Your face, squished into the cushion, the TV light painting you green and red and blue. Your t-shirt sleeve riding up your shoulder. Eddie imagines your skin is as warm and soft as it looks. He longs to touch you and has an excuse when the movie ends. He knows you’ll want to be woken up.
His hand finds your shoulder and his fingers slip beneath your sleeve.
“Y/N, sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes you gently, his thumb pressed to your shoulder. “Wake up.”
It doesn’t take much for you to wake. Soon you’re blinking awake slowly, tearing your tired eyes apart, and it’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve done ever. Eddie feels so much fondness for you it actually hurts.
“Hey,” he says gently. He shuffles closer so he can get his torso in front of yours, hoping to block the TV lights that he’ll know will be blinding for you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep.”
You blink at him. “I did?” You ask, all raspy and sleepy.
Eddie chuckles and resists the urge to kiss you all over your cute face. “Yeah, you did. Was I boring you?”
Your expression goes from sleepy to mortified so quickly it’s alarming.
“No!” You say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I—“
Eddie’s laugh drowns out the rest of your words, and you stop fretting when you realise he’s teasing.
“I’m messing with you, sweet girl.” He slides his hand up to your collar and presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth. “You must’ve been tired, huh?”
A yawn takes over your features right on queue. Your eyes scrunch up and your mouth opens wide and Eddie can’t stop smiling. You’re so cute.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Eddie asks, his hand still pressed to your face. He’s secretly hoping you’ll say no. He’d like you to stay here forever, thank you very much. “Or … you could stay the night here? Only if you want, of course.”
You blink up at Eddie owlishly. He’s never asked you to stay the night. Never suggested it, because he’s afraid of scaring you off. He’s afraid now, waiting for your answer, that you’ll run away and never come back. But you smile. You smile, and his heart does a backflip.
“Um. Okay,” you say, quiet and unsure but that sweet smile stays put. “I think I’ll stay, if that’s okay with you.”
Eddie melts like a popsicle. He brings his other hand to your jaw and cups your pretty, sleepy face.
“Of course it’s okay, angel,” he says, soft and earnest all at once. His chest feels tight. “You can stay whenever you like, you know.”
Your smile grows. Eddie’s heart aches tenfold. “I know.”
Eddie nods. He’s feeling so much for you in this moment that it’s hard to do anything, let alone speak. Instead he pulls away from you, stands up and holds his hand out. You take it unabashedly.
“Come on then,” he says, finally finding his words as he pulls you up to stand. “I’ll find you some pyjamas, hm?”
Ten minutes later Eddie comes back from the shower and finds you in his bed, dressed in a pair of his red and black checkered pyjama pants and one of his shirts. Your eyes are half closed.
You look so lovely that Eddie feels, for the second time tonight, like he’s been punched in the stomach. His breath hitches and his heart goes haywire.
“Hi,” he says softly, dropping the towel he’d been scrubbing his hair with over the back of his desk chair. “You okay?”
You nod. “M’okay,” you mumble quietly. “Just tired.”
Eddie rounds his bed til he’s on the side you’re on, kneeling next to the bed so he can take your bicep in his hand, his palm kneading at the soft muscle. You look seconds away from falling asleep.
“Poor girl,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Then, to you, “Do you want me to sleep on the couch? ‘Cos I will, if you’re not comfortable with us both sleeping in the bed.”
You wrench your eyes open and quit looking tired to instead look confused and mildly put out.
“What?” You ask, exhaustion tugging at your words and making them sluggish and slurred. “No, don’t sleep on the couch.”
Eddie grins like mad. He squeezes your bicep, his fingers pushing beneath your t-shirt sleeve. “You want me to sleep in the bed? With you?”
You shut you eyes again and nod into your pillow. Eddie can’t stop smiling.
“Okay, then.”
He gives your arm one last squeeze and then leaps up to switch the light off. The room gets swallowed by darkness. Eddie can just make out your figure where you’re lying in his bed, the bump of your hip, the curve of your legs.
He slides into bed next to you and it feels like it’s never felt before. Even though it’s his same, regular old bed that he sleeps in every night, nothing about this is regular. Nothing about this doesn’t make his heart race and his skin tingle and his stomach ache with fondness sweet as sugar.
He shuffles closer to you and his arm touches your arm.
“Are you okay?” He asks you. You’re awfully quiet. Well, quieter than usual. He knows it’s because you’re tired, and maybe because this whole thing is probably making you about as nervous as it’s making him, if not more.
You don’t answer but you do press your arm further into Eddie’s. He curls his pinky around yours in the dark.
“Are you nervous?” He whispers, staring at the dark roof, feeling quite a bit nervous himself.
He feels rather than hears you rolling over, and when he tears his eyes away from the roof to look at you, he sees you’ve rolled onto your side to look at him.
“A bit,” you whisper back. Your pinky hooks tighter around his.
“Me too,” Eddie admits. “I’ve never had a girl sleep over before.”
You make a sound that Eddie thinks is a tired, quiet laugh. He can hear your smile when you say, “Really?”
Eddie nods though you probably can’t see him. He slides closer and takes your hand, his fingers lacing through yours. You’re so close you could lay your head on his chest if you wanted. He hopes you will eventually.
“Yeah, really,” he says. He dips his head to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep now, okay?”
You hum something incoherent. You’re asleep within the next minute, your head lolling onto Eddie’s shoulder within the next two.
Eddie lies awake for far longer, wondering how in the world he got this damn lucky.
-
-
6K notes · View notes
improbable-outset · 7 days
Text
Tumblr media
📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫
Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (LMAOOO)
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-Divorce, shared custody, injury and stitching in the beginning, heavy angst, arguing, Jealous!Miguel, fall out, mentions of infidelity and pregnancy, EVENTUALLY SMUT, PIV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating (we’re getting nasty nasty), brief breeding kink
𝐀/𝐍: This is inspired by @yougavemeyourheartyouknow baby daddy AU. I didn’t think this one would get this lengthy but here we are I guess.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.
Tumblr media
Miguel hissed when he felt the rubbing alcohol being smeared onto the wound across his abdomen with a cotton pad. A sharp scent of disinfectant wove through the air, tingling his nostrils and it mingled with the faint aroma of coffee you both had earlier.
There he was, perched on the sofa in his ex-wife’s living room, hair damp from sweat as you patch him up after another mission as Spider-Man — an event he never anticipated would happen to him at two in the morning.
“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he spattered out as he felt another stinging wave from the alcohol. You gaze up at him from his wound that you were focused on before you spoke.
“Sorry, I thought you had a higher pain tolerance,” you said, dabbing the wound gently.
“I do, but that doesn’t give you license to be rough with me like that,” he mumbled. Despite the divorce, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him.
You both remained friends as your marriage never worked out between the two of you. You would patch him up whenever he needed it— he would rather have you take care of him just to feel your touch than have a random nurse.
As the blood cleared from the open cut, you could see the gash more visibly now. A villain's blade had slashed across him deep enough to leave a large wound that won’t heal on its own.
“You’re gonna need stitches,” you got up from the seat to go to the bathroom before coming back with your kit. Miguel sank further into the plush cushion of the sofa, feeling the fabric yield under his weight.
His heart twisted with a mix of guilt and gratitude as he watched you tend to his wound. He grimaced slightly at the pinch of the needle on his skin but your hands were delicate, careful not to further damage the delicate area.
He sat still motionless as his eyes were glued to you. It was easy to admire you and how concentrated you were right now. You were always nurturing and wanted the best for people you cared about. Your brows furrowed as you kept working on the cut.
“Jesus Miguel…” you whispered, taking in the sheer size of his cut.
“What?” He asked, tilting his head in mock confusion. “It’s not that bad, you know I’ve had worse. You’ve treated worse than this,”
Even if you were divorced and not together by law, he still cherished these moments with you. You were still the same woman he loved.
Watching you fix him up made him feel like things were almost back to normal again— that he was home and his wife was here to get him back on his feet. Until reality would set in.
“I know. It’s almost like you’re testing your own durability,” there was an obvious worry etched in your voice as you were finishing up stitching his wound. It made his stomach churn with silent longing.
“That cut? You really think that’s a test for durability?” He arched his brow inquisitively. He knew it was a big gash but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
“That was nothing more than me not paying attention. But this one however…" he pointed to his bruised shoulder, "that was a test for durability. I got smashed through a wall,”
You peered up at him momentarily, a flicker of disturbance in your eyes, before you silently resumed his last stitches.
Silence fell between you as the faint hum of the city filtered through the window, punctured by the occasional sirens and car horns.
“All done,” you announced, leaning back to examine your work.
He sat up from the couch carefully, making sure not to put too much strain on the fresh stitches. “Gracias,”
“Don’t forget to drink your fluids,” you reminded him.
“Sí sí. You sound like an overprotective mother,”
“Well…I just so happen to have a daughter,” you gave a soft smile. Out of everything that had happened in your marriage, he would forever be grateful that you gave him a daughter.
Watching Gabriella grow was a profound blessing that he would never take for granted. Fatherhood had made him learn a lot about himself that he never knew he could harbour, fostering a newfound level of patience and empathy within him.
And now, as Gabriella was approaching her fifteenth birthday, Miguel couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly the years had passed. He would soon be preparing for her quinceañera with you, a milestone that seemed to arrive in a blink of an eye.
“And do you tell her to drink her fluids as much as you tell her papá?” He asked in a slight tease.
“You know I do and I tell her to eat her greens,” you replied, matching his lighthearted tone.
His heart soared at the fond memories. You were always an amazing mother, a role that bloomed naturally from you as soon as you gave birth to your daughter and held her in your arms for the first time.
He didn’t think he could fall for you more until he saw you nurse your baby for the first time with a tender look in your eyes. He hated the fact that he wasn’t there to witness those precious moments of you bonding with your daughter enough when he had the chance to.
“I’m surprised Gabi hasn’t picked up any of your bad habits,”
“Bad habits like what?”
“You know…the irresponsible stuff,” he chuckled, clearly getting a rise out of you. “You should’ve seen her last weekend. She called the guy you’re seeing a ‘cabrón’”
An uneasy tension knotted in chest after he broached the subject of your date, almost like he was dreading to hear what you were going to say.
He was never thrilled about the topic, just as he never was when you spoke about anything to do with other men. However, he didn’t expect to see your face drop, like the topic hit a raw nerve.
“She said that?” You voice was hesitant and he noticed shoulders slump and your brows furrowed.
Either you were uncomfortable with Gabriella’s candid remark towards your date or you didn’t like that she was cursing at her age.
“She did. Look I heard what she said but she’s probably just saying that to sound grown up. She is a teenager and the hormones make them go nuts,”
“Sure I guess,”
“Try not to take it personally,” he reached out to hold your hand and tried to reassure you, even if hearing Gabriella cursing wasn’t the best thing a father should let slide.
“I’m not upset about that,” you droned.
“Your tone says otherwise,”
“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Your demeanor shifted into something more serious and you were avoiding eye contact with him which made him uneasy. “If I’m going to keep dating him, I can’t patch you up like this anymore,”
Miguel swallowed thickly, processing what you had just told him. “You’re not meaning…”
“Yes,”
He felt an uncomfortable pull in his gut and his heart felt like it was about the leap out of his throat. “You can’t be serious,”
“It won’t be fair on him if I’m still friends with the man I was married to,” Miguel couldn’t help but scoff at that, but he couldn’t call it stupid.
A small part of him knew that you were right. How could any man feel safe when his new woman was still close with her ex-husband, her ex who still loved and pined for her? But he wasn’t going to stand for that.
“And since when did I care if it’s fair on him?” He snapped back.
For a split second, Miguel could feel the cool platinum of the wedding band that he still hasn’t removed from his finger. It served him a bitter reminder that he was still not over you. He hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, especially now.
“This isn’t just about you,” there was a sharpness in your tone when you said that, whether it was intentional or not it still cut deep. You continued to pour salt on the wound as you added on, “Don’t act like you didn’t sign those divorce papers too,”
“Stop it, don’t you think I know that. I was naive to think that a divorce was going to solve anything,” Those damn divorce papers. Thinking about it made the knife that was already stabbing his heart twist further.
If there was anything he regretted the most in life, it would be sitting down in the courtroom and signing those papers that finalised your parting.
Now, he had to watch you go on a date with someone else because he pushed you away. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, frustration knotting in his chest.
“You know why we had to file the divorce,” you said.
Miguel’s mind went spiraling and he wanted to sink into the floor. He was fully aware that he was the one to blame for this. The long hours he spent away as Spider-Man, the growing distance between the two of you— it all led to a rift that tore you apart.
He initiated the divorce, convinced it was for the best. Your marriage was standing on its last leg and he didn’t want to waste your time.
Even if there was no bad blood between the two of you and you decided to stick to being friends after, it didn’t make things hurt any less. Miguel still craved more of you and he missed his chance when he had it.
But now the consequences of his decision were biting him in the ass and the prospect of his biggest fear was coming to fruition. He couldn’t stop you from dating again and he hated it.
“Even if we do stick to being friends, we’re going to be more distant than we were before,” you further explained.
Miguel stared silently as you stood up from the couch and kept going. Each word uttered from you was punctuated with agony that was piercing his heart. “You’re not going to be able to have me like you used to Miguel, not the way that you want,”
He knew he was starting to be selfish now and he had no right to be jealous when he failed you as a husband. He was fully aware of the point you were making and the logic behind it but he still refused to let it go.
Finally he spoke after a long while, “I’d rather have a part of you than none of you,”
“Do you truly believe that you’ll be satisfied with that in the long run?”
Realistically, no. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He didn’t want to be a bystander in your life and witness you bounce back and love someone again that wasn’t him.
But despite that, he still wanted to stay because there was still a small part of him that was grasping onto straws, hoping that you will take him back and you’ll be his again.
But how long could he accept the scraps of you that you’d throw at him before it got too unbearable? It was ironic— the main cause of his wounds that you just patched up right now, the life of Spider-Man, was the reason why you both drifted apart.
“If it wasn’t for our shared custody that’s tying us down, I would’ve said we should’ve cut off a long time ago,”
Those words hurt more than Miguel let on. He rose from the couch and limped towards you, hissing from the sting of the wounds. “Don’t say that, I’m the father of your child—”
“And that’s all you’ll ever be,” Miguel winced internally.
He didn’t know what hurt more, you interjecting or the fact that you only saw him as a co-parent to your daughter. But the latter was definitely going to have a lasting effect on him.
He was going to reach out for you, but you turned your back to him. He had nothing to say now and this could be the last time you would be this warm and open with him.
Without uttering another word, he tapped on his watch to engage his suit before moving towards the window. A moment before he shot his webs to hoist himself away, you spoke one last time.
“You have Gabi for next weekend.”
He merely nodded at your words before he disappeared into the night, swallowing his frustration and disappointment. His web shooters echoed through the streets.
His mood drastically changed the moment he left your comforting apartment to the chaos of Nueva York— it was almost palpable.
His web shot out, catching onto the building he was aiming for. He landed against the wall with a gentle thud before he turned back to look at your apartment from afar. This was going to be the last time he could swing by your apartment through your window freely and his heart was already aching for you.
~
Miguel headed up to your apartment and rapped at the door. It didn’t take long before he saw Gabriella answering the door to him.
She had a duffle bag full of her clothes for the weekend and her phone was in one hand. He gave her a warm smile and kissed her forehead.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she replied casually.
Miguel’s line of sight went past Gabi and further into the house. You weren’t anywhere near the door.
He didn’t know what it was but Miguel felt a pull that was coaxing him to go to you. For a moment, he was conflicted whether or not he should see you. But eventually he caved in to his desires and stepped into the house.
“Where’s you mom?” Miguel asked.
“She’s in the bathroom taking a shower, I think,” Gabi replied before her attention was drawn into her phone screen.
“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Miguel padded over to the bathroom with cautious steps. It had been six months since your friendship had broken off, and he didn’t know what to expect when you saw him in your home.
His palms were sweating, and he could feel every pulse in his body. Part of him thrived off the anticipation that was building up to the moment but the other part was screaming at him to turn back and just leave you alone.
The bathroom door was ajar but the shower wasn’t running. He could see from the gap that you definitely weren’t taking a shower.
He found you sitting in the walk in shower with your knees tucked into your chest. You were wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. He pushed open the door further so he could get a better look at you.
Your eyes looked foggy but he could still see the redness around the rim from crying moments earlier. It almost looked like you were in a dissociative state, and for a moment, he thought you didn’t acknowledge him until you spoke.
“Gabi’s stuff is at the front door,” you mumbled. Your voice sounded hoarse and wavering as if it took extra effort for you to speak.
“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, keeping his response short so he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to open the door to more problems.
“So why are you here?”
Miguel didn’t know how to respond without eliciting a negative reaction from you. He didn’t want to tell you the full truth, but he also couldn’t think of an excuse for your question either.
He couldn’t leave your question hanging longer than it already has, so he opened his mouth to speak, even if he didn’t know what to say “I…was just checking Gabi got everything,”
The nagging urge to reach out to you, to touch you, was getting harder to ignore with each passing second he was in your presence.
Seeing you this vulnerable in the bathroom was tormenting and it was not something he was expecting to see. He didn’t know how to inquire about your well-being without sounding invasive.
“Are you okay?”
Clearly not. You shook your head mutely. At least you were being honest. Miguel cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s pathetic,”
“It’s not pathetic if it got you crying like that,”
Seeing you on the bathroom floor like this sent him back fifteen years earlier where you were in the same position, except you didn’t look so ghostly.
Both of you were holding each end of the pregnancy test, nervousness etched in both of your faces as you anticipated for the results.
Miguel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze feeling the clammy warmth of your skin against his. Your eyes remained glued to the test in front of you, time seemingly slowing to a crawl.
The moment you saw the double lines appear, you broke down into tears and sobbed into his chest from pure joy. Miguel’s heart stuttered as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.
The news that you were going to be parents cremated his love for you even more. You couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t release him that night— your grip was like titanium.
He didn’t mind carrying you to bed though, the weight of you in his arms grounding him in a sense of euphoria that washed over him now.
Seeing you now, so different yet so achingly familiar, brought a lump to his throat. He heard your voice again and was brought back to the present.
“He…” the word was lodged in your throat. Miguel could feel a tinge of rage brewing in him with a mixture of his protective instincts. He knew you were talking about your current boyfriend the moment the word left your lips.
“He cheated,” you stated. Miguel's anger flared and he balled his fist tightly, struggling to contain the rolling emotions threatening to spill out. Even if he didn’t show his anger outwardly, you still knew him well enough to pick up on the signs.
“Please I’m begging you, don’t do anything rash. I’ll heal from this, but the last thing I want is you getting involved,” he heard your plea, and seeing your upset expression made him push aside his heated thoughts.
He was inadequate when it came to being your devoted husband, so what made him believe that he could be your hero in this situation.
He didn’t want to do anything that would further upset you; he had already overstepped your boundaries by trying to reconnect with you.
But now that you’ve broken things off with your boyfriend, could this be an opportunity to rekindle your friendship? Maybe something more. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.
His heart was trying to root him to stay but his intuition was tugging at him to go. It was clear that you didn’t want to talk about it further with him.
As much as it bothered him, there was nothing he could do. After all, you were a grown woman, and you were free to keep things to yourself.
You didn’t owe him anything even if he was your ex-husband— if anything that was probably more reasons why you shouldn’t share anything with him.
“I think I should be getting going, Gabi’s waiting,” he turned around and reached for the door, trying to conceal his disappointment.
“Wait—” you called out. He halted. “Are you planning to do anything later?”
“Uh…no. Why?”
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” You asked meekly. He mulled it over for a moment. He suspected that you didn’t want to be alone after what you’ve experienced and he was glad that he was the one that could keep you company.
“If it would make you feel better, then of course,” his tone was warmer and his muscles relaxed at the thought of spending an evening with you.
There was still that underlying anger he felt towards you ex who had the galls to betray you like that behind your back.
But that was overshadowed by the newfound seed of hope that was planted in his heart— that things might get better between the two of you.
You rose up from the shower floor and washed your tear stained face before you both got out of the bathroom together.
~
Miguel felt the rush of wind brushing past him as he swung over from building to building to get to his destination. His movements were fueled by determination and yearning.
It wasn’t long until he could see the soft glow of your bedroom light filtering through the curtains. He paused outside of your apartment, contemplating how things would turn out. What was he doing here? What was he hoping to achieve? All he knew was that he couldn’t stay away no matter how hard he tried.
With a sigh, he slipped into the open window and pushed past the curtains. He found you settled on your bed with the bedside lap on. You glanced at him, showing that you had acknowledged him but you didn’t give him your full attention.
“Gabi’s staying over at my parents’ house,” you said dismissively. Part of him was glad that Gabi wasn’t around— he didn’t want her to witness how vulnerable he was right now and the tension between her parents.
“I’m not here for Gabi,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing.
The apartment felt different than normal— almost hollow even though nothing much had changed physically the last time he was here. Maybe the feeling was from the absence of warmth between the two of you
“Do you need me to patch you up again?” You asked incredulously, still not looking at him.
“I’m not here for that either,”
Finally, you look back at him, waiting to see what he had to say.
It took a few seconds before he could trust himself to speak again, but to him it felt like a lifetime. The words he had rehearsed mentally over and over finally spilled.
“I came here to apologise, for everything. I neglected you and wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I’ve hurt you,”
There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched out for a while. Your face was unreadable, blank of any emotion and Miguel couldn’t tell what was going through your head. There wasn’t even a twitch in your expression that he could pick up on.
“Now he says he’s sorry,” your voice carried a bitterness that threw him off. You climbed off your bed and took a few steps away, facing your back to him.
Miguel’s heart sank in disbelief.
“Are you really going to give me the cold shoulder now?” He climbed down the windowsill and stepped further into your room towards you. “Look, I know it’s a late apology, but I need you to understand how much I regret pushing you away. Please just hear me out,”
“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You left me alone. You were never there, always busy in another dimension or saving the multiverse while our marriage fell apart.”
“I was trying to protect you!” His voice escalated in volume. “Everything I did, I did it for you and Gabi,”
“Protect me?” You scoffed. “By pushing me away? All you did was made me feel like I wasn’t important enough to fight for,”
Miguel gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration surfacing. “You think I didn’t suffer? Every time I left, it tore me apart. But I thought it was something I had to do,”
“You thought wrong,”
Suddenly all those gloomy memories came rushing to him like a tidal wave. He could see the images of your lonely silhouette sitting at the dining table, waiting for a husband who never came home.
The empty bed that felt colder each night he wasn’t there.
The guilt that had been lingering since the divorce now crashed down like a storm on him, suffocating him.
“I know I made mistakes and I didn’t prioritise our marriage. But I never stopped loving you, not for a second,” He said, his voice softened, almost in a pleading manner.
“Really?” You said, your tone cutting. “Did seeing me move on and go on another date make you suddenly come to your senses?”
Miguel’s jaw clenched at that. He didn’t like that you saw him that way but he couldn’t blame you for coming to that conclusion. “That’s not fair, I was trying to do what’s best for us. I didn’t want to hold you back,”
“You didn’t want to hold me at all, Miguel. Do you really think that you could swing by into my apartment and fix everything with an apology?”
“No…” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair before his voice lowered, “But I would regret it everyday if I didn’t try. Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life,”
His mind was racing, remembering the warmth of you embracing and how you would fit perfectly together. “I miss the way we used to be, I missed the way you would melt in my arms, I miss coming home to you,”
“Kiss me,”
“What?” He gave you a puzzled look. “After everything that I’ve done to you, you want me to kiss you?”
“If you’re really sorry, you would kiss me,”
Miguel hesitated— his mind was conflicted, torn between his guilt and your command. For a moment he didn’t move, studying your face to see if you had an ulterior motive to all of this. Was this a test or a chance at redemption?
But eventually, he caved in and leaned in until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first as he was holding back from overwhelming you.
His lips slowly parted, and he softly whispered into your mouth. “I’m so sorry,”
He heard you moan softly in response and his chest clenched. He couldn’t believe he had that much of an effect on you just from a kiss.
His hands reached over to the back of your head firmly before his lips pressed hard on your lips, not wanting to miss a single moment of you were sharing.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”
You clung onto him, your kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to erase all the pain and distance between the two of you.
After everything you’ve been through, you’ve still had a tight grip on him, and it was killing him little by little. But he would happily give himself to you without a second thought.
He pulled away and his lips trailed over your jaw. All the hostility from you melted away as he continued to kiss over your face and neck. He could visibly sense the tension easing from your body as your breath hitched.
He pulled his face away from your neck to look at you in the eyes. “Needy,”
“Says you,”
“Yeah? I’m not the one who asked to be kissed though,”
“You and I both know that you wanted it just as much as I did,”
“Hmm maybe. Do you know what else I want?”
“I might have an idea,” you finished off your sentence by grinding your hips against his own. He let out a stuttered moan at the touch before a smile crept across his face.
So shameless.
He felt the heat creeping to his groin and translating to a growing erection. His dick was painfully hard now and you continued to grind your hips, using his erection to get more friction.
His face heated up when he heard your desperate whines. You were so needy for him right now and that was only stroking his ego.
He pulled away from your embrace and disengaged his suit with his watch to reveal his nude body in its full glory— his throbbing dick was the most prominent view.
He saw you gawking at the precum that was spilling from the tip— an amused smile played on your lips before you looked back up at him. “Look who’s needy now.”
Hearing your smug remark brought him a wave of nostalgia, something he missed when making love to you. But it also ignited something in him— a growing desire to take you and make you eat your words.
He grasped onto the hem of your silky nightgown and pulled them up so he could reach to your undies to pull them down. Swiftly, he lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist before effortlessly pinned you against the wall.
He knew he was being desperate and skipping most of the foreplay tonight, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel you clench around him, his body will hate him if he delayed it longer.
Positioning himself against your folds, he could already feel your wetness paint his tip. You were soaked just for him and only him— just how it should be.
He pushed himself in and your mouth hung from the overwhelming stretch from his dick. Feeling the grip you had was almost enough to knock the winds out of him. He halted when he was halfway, gauging the sight of you.
A sense of familiarity washed over him when he saw your face warp while struggling to take him in. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth was agape, slowly drowning in the bliss he was giving you.
You let out a startled moan when he slammed the rest of him in with a lewd slap.
“Go slow…please. I need time to adjust,” you breathed, voice coming out staggered. He kissed the corner of your mouth in acknowledgment. He dragged himself out before rolling his hips in, keeping a steady rhythm so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.
It was easier to feel and hear how wet you were with his slow and shallow pace. He had been yearning for this moment for too long and now that he could finally have you like this, everything felt more intense.
You were finally his again and it almost felt too good to be real.
He rested his forehead against you, watching through his hazy eyes how responsive you were to him and picking up every micro expression.
The room filled with your soft moans as he kept thrusting into you. Your labored breaths merged with your lips inches away. He could feel his peak crawling in and he made sure to reach the deepest part of your crevice before he unraveled inside you.
Having his release fill you up again was dizzying. Carefully, he put you back down onto your feet again and you leaned onto his chest for stability until you regained your balance.
He kept holding you close with his body pressing flushed against yours and catching your breaths in silence. A short moment passed before you looked up at him.
“Let me taste you, please.” You said. It wasn’t a question. Hearing the way you requested that in such a sultry way made his cock twitch and he was whipped all over again.
He could feel the heat rush to his cock and his erection forming. “You want a taste? How can I say no?”
He pulled himself away from you and perched on your bed, spreading his thighs to display is dick standing on its end. He let out a sharp exhale as he watched you go down on your knees for him and settled between his legs.
Miguel tensed when he felt your hand clasped around his length, grappling onto the bed sheet to steady himself. The after effect of his previous climax was still tingling and coursing through him.
“Easy…don’t overdo it,” he muttered, his hip stuttered slightly.
You look up at him and he could feel a new string of precum drawing out from the tip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,”
Your tongue grazed along the tip, and you were collecting your own wetness that coated his dick from earlier along with his precum. You were so eager and yet so gentle, it was overwhelming.
You were too good and it was getting to his head. Everything about you was enticing. You gave the head of his cock a few kitten licks and he let out a groan, his hand reaching over to the back of your head.
It took every fiber of him not to buck his hip and shove him all the way into your mouth. He had to squeeze his eyes shut when he felt the warmth of your mouth around the tip. He let out another pleasurable moan, arching into your touch.
The sensitivity in his body continued to soar through him and the feeling of your mouth was enough to drive him up the walls.
You’re so good. How are you always so good at this.
More precum beaded up from his tip and gently leaked down into your mouth— he heard you hum from the taste. You lowered your head until you had his full length in his mouth.
His eyes fly open from the sudden sensation and he looked down to see you eying up at him. You carried a soft look in you eyes even while doing something lascivious. It was enough to disarm the coldest of souls; he couldn’t help but caress your cheeks right now.
“Eres tan hermosa en este momento,” he mumbled, still in a hazy trance. His nerves were firing and he threw his head back, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving him.
Before he could register it, he was shaking and trembling when his orgasm came crashing down again. Ropes and ropes of his jizz squirted into your mouth. His eyes were unfocused, and it took him several deep breaths before he could find his voice again.
“Ay por dios…”
He still felt sparks from his high and his mind was absolutely buzzed. The lewd sound of you swallowing him down send a shiver crawling down his spine and his stomach fluttering.
His head dropped against the pillows from exhaustion, still panting. He felt the bed shift when you lie besides him and nussled against his chest.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he confessed, kissing the crown of your head.
“I can still taste you,” you teased. He responded lift your chin up to look at him and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. He was insatiable and he didn’t want to stop feeling your touch after having been deprived of it for so long.
He was quick to slip his tongue into your mouth and map out the familiar heat that he loved so much. The taste of himself was barely lingering in your mouth.
His mind was spinning from everything— the taste of your lips, the smell of your arousal and the sound of your low moans as he kissed you deeper.
All the little ways you responded to him was enough to give him the energy to turn you over on your stomach. His straddling on your back and his hard on sat at the base of your rear, between each globe of your cheeks.
“Hard again, eh?,” you quipped, turning your head to look at him.
But your demeanor quickly shifted when he began to push himself in, keeping his pace measured and slow. You started gripping and kneading the sheet from the feeling and muffled your moans into the pillow.
“Don’t hide from me,” he muttered, leaning in before his teeth nipped at your earlobe. You lifted your head from the pillow instinctively, letting out a startled noise.
He continued to slide himself in and out of you while simultaneously kiss along the curse of your neck from behind— each thrust was measured and calculated so you’d feel everything from him.
“Do I make you feel good, amor?” He moaned in your ear before he started to build a faster rhythm. Your noises became more urgent and he could tell you were desperately chase your high.
Each thrust pushed you further into the sheet. A guttural moan ripped from you as you clenched around him and reached your impending climax. He felt your come around him, taking him closer to the edge.
He pulled out momentarily, turning you around so you lied on your back and rested your legs on his shoulders. He didn’t give you a chance to prepare before he bottomed out.
He started thrusting inside you with little to no exit before hand. He didn’t pull his cock all the way but rather dragged himself slightly back before slamming back in relentlessly. The rough pace only milked more moans and sweet noises out of you, encouraging him to keep going.
Your voice was becoming frantic mixed with your moans and he almost missed when you spoke.
“Breed me,”
It took a moment for the words to register in your head and he felt his mind go hazy from your request. It wasn’t a question, but an order. You wanted this more than anything. His thought were filled of you, being bred by him and carrying another child and marking you as his again.
“Make me a mami again,”
This gave him extra motivation now. Each time, his thrusts became more and more sporadic and losing it’s rhythm. The bed creaked in protest from his pace. With one final stroke, he pushed as much of himself inside you and filled you up with your seeds again.
But he wasn’t done. He pulled himself away so he could slip two fingers into your swollen pussy. He gathered the remnants of your shared release onto the pad of his fingers before he held them near your mouth.
Pressing his thumb against your lower lip, he gently lowered it down and watched in awe as you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers in so you could get a taste and let out a low groan, feeling your mouth suckle on the cum that was clinging onto his fingers.
“Can you taste how good we are together, amor?”
He kept watching you intently until he slipped his fingers out and reached over to kiss your forehead. You look spend and your breathing became laboured.
Miguel perched onto the bed besides you again, gulping to moisture his dry mouth. He had spent so many nights alone, haunted by the nights of his decision that led to your divorce.
Being in bed with you alone, naked and drenched in the afterglow felt surreal. He didn’t think he would ever experience this again.
“Have I told you that I never stopped loving you,” he whispered with raw emotions. Even if he did already tell you, he wanted you to know that he meant every word. It was never about falling out of love but rather about protecting you and his daughter— his family.
Your eyes met his. “I know. But love wasn’t enough to keep us together,”
“I know that now. But I want to make things right, if you let me,” The air that was static with tension was now starting to flourish with new possibilities.
“I don’t know if things will be back to the way they were, but let’s take it a step at a time,” you kissed his mouth.
You pulled away and rose from the bed. “But I want to take a shower first, care to join me?”
He gave you a mischievous look and he was liking where this was going. “Lead the way, cariño,”
Tumblr media
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @maiyart @lazyjellyfish300 @mrsoharaa @truth-dare-spin-bottles @farrowroyale
@amberbalcom14 @blvd-sourz @bluesidez @slushycoookie @prettygirleli
@saintdiior @peachipeachy @xyziiix @mybvalentine @c4rm1son
You know normally in a situation where the character gets back with reader, you’d expect them to get all possessive and primal and whatnot. I didn’t want to showcase that dominant dynamics here. Not my cup of tea ewewew I kinda liked that I got reader to tease Miguel too and they still had their back and forth even after everything
Ayrus xoxo
654 notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 4 days
Text
Hand Print
Carlos has these big strong sexy hands. He uses them to grip her ass in sex, leaves a hand print seen by Lando at the beach.
Warnings: smut, P in V, biting, marking
@biancathecool had the idea, I brought it to life lmaoooo
Tumblr media
It made so much sense that he was strong enough for this, now. With all of the cycling he did, Carlos had been in the gym, working out his arms. Keeping his proportions the same.
She loved it. Loved the way it felt to have his strong arms wrapped around her. It was a turn on, actually. Cuddling with Carlos never lasted long when she could feel his muscles against her.
Fuck, she just wanted to bite him. Bite his strong, tanned arms. The joys of having an athlete boyfriend.
Where she liked biting her boyfriend, leaving gentle, consensual bite marks on his skin, Carlos liked to hold her ass.
Well, not just hold. His grip on her, on her hips, thighs, anywhere he could get a hold of. The way his tight grip left her skin with delightful bruises was just the cherry on top.
This time around, Carlos held her ass. He gripped the flesh as she rode him, her moans filling the room. "Fuck," he grunted and squeezed tighter, matching the way she was squeezing him, cunt gripping his cock.
It wasn't often their time away coincided with Lando, Carlos's best friend on the grid. They knew they were supposed to be going to the private beach with Lando and his new girlfriend, but the minute she put on that bikini, he had to have her.
And the feeling of her cumming around his cock was so fucking worth it. Even if she had to take a few extra minutes to fix her hair and makeup before they headed to the beach.
She didn't notice the handprint Carlos had left behind as she pulled her new bikini bottoms over her ass. Carlos just caught a glimpse of it as she pulled her beach skirt over the top. Damn, she was so fucking delectable.
Carlos held her as they made their way down to the beach. His big strong arms around her as he carried their things in his other hand. There was, quite literally, nothing better.
"Bit fucking late!" Lando called as they walked over.
Carlos sat their stuff down with a grin. "Got a bit... distracted," he said as she laid out the blanket. He watched as Lando rolled his eyes and she hit his chest.
The beach day started off normal. She laid in the sun, read her book and basked in the feeling of the warmth on her skin, as Carlos laid beside her, tracing patterns across her stomach.
There was no keeping this man away from his girl.
But then Lando had him up and playing football as she chatted to Lando's new girlfriend, getting to know her (it wasn't the first time they'd met, but the first time they'd met she hadn't been serious with Lando. So, Carlos's girl hadn't bothered).
She laid on her stomach as they talked and laughed, hand cushioning her head. "Oh, just wait until they try taking us golfing," she said and the other girl laughed. It seemed she had found a friend.
But this story isn't about friendship. This story is about Carlos and his big, strong hands.
After a good and probably unfair game of football in the sand (knowing the two of them, there was definitely some cheating going on), the boys wandered back over. "Here, baby," she said, handing Carlos a bottle of water. He downed it in one go.
"Thank you, Hermosa," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. It was pure bliss, just like every day with Carlos. But there is always something that interrupts that bliss.
"What the fuck is that on your ass?"
"Why are you staring at my ass, Norris?" She called back, immediately on the defensive. But, as she spoke, she was glaring at her boyfriend.
But Lando was still looking. Defensively, she pulled down her bikini bottoms to cover more of her ass, but in that moment, she only showed off more of the handprint on her ass.
"You guys are freaky as fuck," said Lando as he said beside his girlfriend.
"You haven't seen nothing, Norris."
It was only muttered as she pulled Carlos closer. "What the fuck is on my ass?" She hissed in his ear as she kissed the spot just beneath it.
Carlos flexed his fingers.
"You asshole, that's hot as fuck."
She ended up with a few more that night.
895 notes · View notes
sluttywoozi · 3 months
Text
Interlude No. 4 | kmg x reader
Tumblr media
Interlude No. 4: Twice, Mingyu has tried to go home and the third time, he actually makes it out of the door. So why has he come back?
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.7k | Pairing: kmg x reader | Genre: smut, fluff
Warnings: shower sex, oral m. rec., fingering, tiny flash of masochism, piv sex, creampie
Reader Notes: has a vagina
Tumblr media
The first time Mingyu tries to leave, you’re the one who stops him. 
Not by force, that probably wouldn’t be possible, but you know your pouty face is just as powerful as his muscles are, especially when you use it against him. 
So when he starts pulling his arm out from behind your back and lets out that big sigh, you turn it on and gaze at him, begging him not to go with everything but words. He takes one look at your face and wilts, gathering your body up against his and settling deeper into the couch before reaching for the remote to tell Netflix you’re still watching. 
With your head tucked up under his chin and his arms around you, he doesn’t see the wicked little grin that quirks the corners of your mouth, or how pleased you are at having easily convinced him to stay at least another hour. 
.
The second time Mingyu tries to leave, he’s the one who stops himself. 
He’s halfway to the door with you just a few steps behind him, his hoodie already tugged over his head and one arm, before he realizes something and turns around. 
“I can’t see you tomorrow, can I?” He asks, dejection clear in his voice. 
You scrunch your mouth to the side and shake your head regretfully, “I have to work late and then I have drinks with the girls.”
“And you’re sure you can’t come over after? Even just to sleep?” He sounds so small, trying to negotiate time with you like this. 
“You know we stay out pretty late, and I’m expected at the office early the next day for that project.”
“Right… Right,” he sighs, pouting slightly and looking around before shrugging the hoodie off and striding back over to the couch, catching your hand on the way and pulling you behind him. 
“I’ll stay a bit longer then,” he smiles up at you as he sinks onto the cushion, taking hold of your hips and guiding you into his lap. 
This time, you don’t watch a show, you just sit with your ear pressed against his chest and your legs curled up, his big arms warm around you and his heartbeat nearly lulling you to sleep. You chat for a while before you both fall silent, content to breathe together and soak in the time you still have. 
The third time Mingyu tries to leave, he’s successful. 
You wish you could keep him, especially with the rain pelting the windows, the drops falling so quickly they glide down the glass in streaks, but you think that might count as abduction and you’re not about to catch a charge for a man. 
But the man is Mingyu…
No. You have to let him leave this time, even though you kind of want him to stay and move in and be with you forever. That’s a scary thought when it’s only been a few months and you’re not sure where Mingyu stands, but you have to be honest with yourself. 
You think you love him. 
It only gets clearer with every interaction, every hug, every kiss, every caring little thing he does for you. He’s grown to know you so quickly in the short time you’ve shared together, grown to understand you and appreciate you, and you’ve done the same for him. 
You know how he likes his coffee, you know not to expect him for at least an hour when he tells you he’s working out, you know what each of his hugs, each of his kisses mean. 
You know that the hug he’s giving you now means he doesn’t want to go, his whole body curved around you as he sways lightly from side to side, his arms holding you tight and his eyes squeezed shut. 
Fuck, of course, you love him. 
When he finally pulls back enough to kiss you, it’s one you don’t recognize. 
It’s slow, and deep, and full of feeling, his lips moving against yours and his hand cupping your cheek so gently, you wonder if he thinks you’re made of glass. He’s barely broken the kiss before he’s leaning in to press his mouth to yours again, as if the first wasn’t enough, as if it could never be enough. 
When he kisses you a third time, just as sweetly, just as softly, you feel the words on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy to let them slip, to breathe them into his lips, to sigh them out as he pulls away. 
But when your mouth is finally free to speak, you find you can’t tell him yet. 
So you let him go with just a goodnight, watch him as he walks towards the stairs, his steps large and quick but hesitant too, like he’s forcing himself to keep going. When he disappears into the stairwell, you glumly return to your apartment, locking the door and heading over to the window to watch him leave. 
He bursts out of your building, hood up, and you’re convinced you can hear his swearing as he darts across the road to his car, his keys already out and his hand reaching for the door. He doesn’t open it though, doesn’t get in, even as rain soaks into his clothes and lightning paints the sky. 
Instead, he turns, his eyes finding you in your window as he pulls the hood down. 
There’s a look in them that’s familiar to you, though you haven’t categorized it yet. 
It’s the same look he gives you when you wake up together, when you reach out and fix his hair, when you surprise him at the gym with his favorite protein smoothie. 
Water is trailing down his face now, his hair dripping and sticking to his forehead, his light gray sweatsuit darkening the longer he stands still. You almost jump when he nods to himself and races back across the street, your breathing stalled for a tense thirty seconds before you hear a knock on your door. 
You dart over, unlocking it and swiftly pulling it open to find him, panting and drenched and grinning brighter than you’ve ever seen. 
“Mingyu, what-”
“I love you,” he gasps with wide eyes, reaching for your hands. You give them to him numbly, his words ringing in your mind. 
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. 
“You… love me?” You repeat, shocked at his words, though you probably shouldn’t be. 
“Yes, I love you. I couldn’t leave without saying it,” his smile begins to wane, his earlier excitement fading. “Is it too soon? It’s okay if you don’t-”
“Mingyu, I love you,” the words spill out of your mouth, your earlier hesitation all but forgotten in the wake of his confession. 
He’s beaming now, bringing both cold, wet hands up to cup your face and leaning in to kiss all over. You can’t help but giggle in enamored exhilaration, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pulling him even closer. Finally, he stops smiling long enough to press his lips to yours, the kiss you didn’t recognize earlier now obviously being one of true, undeniable love. 
It grows heated quickly, and you thank your neighbors for being homebodies like you because it means you can drag him into your apartment by the hair without any disapproving looks. 
He’s dripping all over your hardwoods but you can’t find it in yourself to care, until he shivers so hard, his lips fall from yours. 
“I’m fucking freezing, can we do it in the shower?” He asks, teeth chattering and lips pale where they should be red and juicy from your kisses. 
“Yeah, Gyu, c’mon,” you steer him toward the bathroom, though you know he knows where it is, and skip ahead of him to start the water, hoping it’ll be warm by the time he gets his sodden clothes off. 
He struggles out of the hoodie, white tank rising with it, and squeezes out as much moisture as he can before laying it out on your sink, doing the same with his sweats. Even his boxers are wet, and when you reach out to hold his hips, you find his skin is ice cold. 
“Babe, you warm up in the shower and I’ll put these in the dryer, okay?” You offer, concerned and more than a little endeared. 
“Okay,” he whispers, turning around and pressing his quivering lips to yours before sweeping back your shower curtain and climbing into the tub, hissing at the stark difference in temperature. 
Gathering up his clothes in your arms, you jog over to your closet, throwing his things in the dryer and starting it up on low, knowing that if they shrink, there’s no hope of them fitting him again. 
He’s singing when you get back, a song you don’t know but one that’s obviously about love, and as you undress, you call out, “Gyu, I’m back,” so you don’t startle him into falling (like you have before). 
“Yay,” he pulls open the curtain and grips your wrist, pulling until you laugh and get into the shower with him. He looks just about back to normal, his skin flushed with heat and his lips bright and plump, and when you lean in to kiss him, he’s no longer trembling. 
Content with his recovery, you let him press you up against the shower wall, gasping at the chilly tiles before his arms wrap around your back to act as a barrier. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at the short strands, your tongue slipping into his mouth when it opens on a sharp gasp. 
He pulls you into his chest, his slowly hardening cock brushing against your thigh, making you reach down and take hold of it. He lets out a little moan, his arms flexing around your body as your hand starts to glide up and down, stroking him to full thickness and then stroking him some more. 
You can’t stop kissing him, you feel like you need his air to breathe, like you’ll perish if his lips part from yours for even a second, but soon enough, there’s something you want even more. 
You want his cock in your mouth, want to feel its heavy weight on your tongue, so you pull away and sink to your knees, grateful for your rainfall showerhead and the fact that it means there’s no water falling into your eyes. You have a perfectly clear view as you stare up at him, your lips aching to wrap around the weeping head of his dick. 
“Baby, I don’t wanna cum like this,” Mingyu gasps, his palm on your cheek and his gaze caught on your mouth. 
“Then don’t,” you instruct unhelpfully, before licking up the gathered precum and sliding his cock between your lips. 
He bites out a swear, his head tipping forward as he braces a hand on the shower wall, the other shifting from your cheek to grip your hair, though he doesn’t pull or guide you at all. He just watches and takes it as you bob on his dick, your watering eyes locked with his and your knees starting to smart from the hard ceramic of the tub. 
It isn’t long at all before he’s gasping out your name and twitching in your mouth, his hand clenching in your hair as he whines, “Baby, baby, stop, I’m gonna cum.” 
You know he can cum twice but thanks to your earlier delays in him leaving, it’s already pretty late and you both have work in the morning. So instead of pushing, you pull back instead, letting his cock fall from your mouth before attempting to stand. 
Mingyu’s hands hook beneath your arms and help bring you up, holding you close to his body as he leans in and sucks his taste off your tongue. When he pulls back, you begin to turn in his arms, getting into your usual position for shower sex. 
“No, not like that, I wanna see you, please,” he sounds so needy, so weak for you, and you don’t have the strength to tease him, not when he’s vulnerable like this. You just turn back around, wrap your arms around his neck, and hitch a leg up on his waist to open yourself up for him. 
His fingers find the heat between your thighs and start to prepare you, dipping into your cunt and stretching you out, curling inside you to grind into your sweet spot and get you even wetter. Even with his fingers, you still feel empty, and you don’t think that will change until it’s his cock instead. 
“Mingyu, I’m- that’s enough, just-,” you can barely even find the words to tell him what you want, desperately needing him to fill you up, make you whole again. 
He doesn’t respond beyond a short nod and the withdrawal of his fingers, his dick notching in your entrance before he starts to push in. He’s slow about it, gentle, knowing that it’s been a few days since you last fucked and that you didn’t get nearly enough foreplay for him to just bully his way inside. 
You almost wish he would, your greed for him is that dire, but when he’s finally fully seated in you, he fits so perfectly it’s almost as if you’re one person instead of two. He sobs out a swear, just barely pulling back before taking hold of the leg you’ve got propped on his waist and hitching it up higher. 
His hips roll into yours in short, deep thrusts, the angle allowing him to drag the head of his cock over your g-spot every so often, making your head spin and your nails dig into his shoulders. You know he likes the pain, likes the lingering marks, so you don’t try to stop, instead holding on for dear life as he pulls back further and fucks into you like he means it. 
Normally, you’d speak to each other, tease each other, but this time, it’s different. 
You already said what you needed to say and you’re doing the rest of the talking with your bodies, every push and pull an affirmation of the words you exchanged barely twenty minutes ago. They echo in your mind, mixing with your syrupy sweet thoughts and desires and wishes until your head is a tangled, beautiful mess. 
You give up on trying to make sense of anything when he starts kissing you again, all of your brain power focused on kissing him back as he makes a home inside of you. You’re prepared to throw up some flower boxes and roll out a welcoming mat for him, prepared to give him the key to your lock and the secrets buried under your floorboards. 
You have a feeling he’d treasure them all, just like he treasures you, cherishes you, loves you. 
He loves you, and you love him, and suddenly, your heart is so swollen with it, you almost can’t breathe. 
“I love you,” you gasp into his mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
You’re wholly unprepared for the flood of cum that fills you, and the rush of oxytocin and adoration that overtakes you as you break together, spurred by your words and his twitching, leaking cock. His whimpers vibrate against your lips, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in so close you can feel his pounding heart. 
“I love you,” he whispers over and over again, as he pulls out, as he cleans you up, as he washes your face with your cleanser, as he wipes himself and you down with a towel, as he pulls his boxers back on. 
He whispers it again as he settles into bed with you, and you muster up enough energy to say it back before dropping into sleep, content in his arms and in the knowledge that he’ll be there when you wake up.
Tumblr media
AN: in existence bc of my love @bbychocolat, thank you for always fueling me with your beautiful mind and love for mingyu
My Masterlist
the song mingyu was singing
835 notes · View notes
wh1msic4alwasab1 · 26 days
Text
Tumblr media
⋆˚࿔ 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: how genshin men would degrade you <3
tags: degrading (obviously) facesitting, mentions of gagging, oral, penetration, explicit
wrd cnt: 800+
a/n: cooking up an hsr version soon
Tumblr media
Ayato is always complete and proper in his semantics, he's fair and he loves to praise you.
But tonight...you stretched his patience too thin and his only choice was to stretch your little cunt til you couldn't talk back anymore. "Fuck, you're tight, honey.. this is what you want, isn't it?"
This day was big for Ayato, but you just had to keep pestering him with question after question. Usually, he'd entertain your playfulness but tonight was stressful. So he took it out on you instead. Call it karma?
"Clenching from my vulgarity..what a whore you are." He whispered into your ear, bending you across his desk, while all the guests sat outside having tea while you got fucked hard from behind by Ayato, who put a hand over your mouth, warning you greatly to stay quiet and stop those slutty moans of yours.
"Am I wrong or, did you not hear me? Ayato said lowly, slowly growing more and more annoyed and irritated at your misbehavior.
"Do you need me to gag that mouth of yours, y/n?” Sounding more like a promised threat than a question.
The only way you can get yourself out of this is giving Mr. Kamisato all he asks for and more, and be an obedient girl.
Nothing could really piss off Alhaitham as much as you, but not in the way that's most obvious.
He hated how much you doubted yourself, looked down on yourself, and harbored deep annoyance of the fact you didn't love the things about you he can't get enough of.
Sure, he could give you a little cute pep-talk but, fucking it into you is the approach that'll really make it stick. Some reverse psychology maybe?
After hearing you badmouth yourself for what felt like hours, he's stripping you of all your clothes and sitting you onto the couch armrest, forcing you to look him in the eyes; daring you to say those things again.
"Fucking pathetic is what you are. You're lucky I'm not fucking that stupid shit out of your mouth". He said, grabbing your hips as he sat down, positioning your cunt over him.
Not sure if you should just hover, his large hand lands on your ass, surely leaving a handprint.
"Sit down y/n." Alhaitham groaned, pulling your hips down onto his face and swallowing your clit with his tongue; his eyes never leaving you and your perfect tits.
Wriothesley loved showering you with compliments and nothing but the sweetest of words, but sometimes he just can't hold back all the filthy things he knows you want from him.
Oftentimes he's just worried you're gonna start crying, but fuck is it hot when you do.
"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin your pretty little mouth." He breathes out, watching you kiss up his cock. On your knees and eyes up is his favorite way to gaze at you, and it's just so easy for him to fuck your face.
"Wrio...you said-"
"Sluts don't get to talk." He cuts you off, his brows raised in amusement as he lights up a cigarette and throws the lighter somewhere, taking his cock in one hand to push past your lips as the other keeps the cig inbetween his fingers.
"Open that dirty fucking mouth of yours... can't take it all of a sudden?" He says, shoving it deep into your throat while his hand grips the back of your head, letting you take it at your own pace before he throws his head back and thrusts his hips up as he hears all the sloppy noises, waiting for your glossy eyes to make an appearance.
Now, Childe really tries to be sweet and praiseful, but he loves how disgusting and filthy you can be, and it's even better when he gets to tells you how much he loves it.
Wearing a new outfit wasn't something you expected to lead to something like this.
Definitely not being put in a tight mating press by your lover, pressed into the couch cushions while he left marks all over your neck and collar, biting and sucking places anyone could see to leave no guessing who's you belong to.
"Look at your thighs...they're just spilling out. You look like a filthy slut, do you want me to fuck you like one? Is that it?" He asked, pulling and smacking the material of your stocking that you didn't think too much of, but the minute he saw you walk out in them his cock wanted to spring out and get in between your thighs. But your pussy was an even better spot.
Deep and deeper be thrusted, the springs in the furniture squeaking while your voice almost did the same, cursing and moaning his name while he kept you close. Small protests for him to be quick fell from your lips, urging him so the two of you could get to where you were headed prior to this..."short" break.
"Are you gonna be a good girl or a fucking headache?" He asked, only fucking your harder and slower, a hand finding to squeeze the sides of your neck.
Tumblr media
whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
664 notes · View notes
sordidmusings · 8 months
Text
Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x Reader)
Tumblr media
Art by Capitanpoops (link keeps expiring QnQ)
A/N: Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p
Word Count: ~4 k
Warnings: feminine leaning afab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection
amab!Version
Next ->
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”
“I’m quaking.”
“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.
“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.
After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to pamper yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.
You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.
“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.
“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”
Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.
“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.
Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.
Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”
Silence.
You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.
“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.
“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.
“Clown trade?”
He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”
You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”
Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your perfume. All was still for a few breaths too long.
“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.
You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.
Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.
The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful giggles burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling laughter, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”
Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.
You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.
Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.
While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.
With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-
You’d love him.
Fuck.
You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.
“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.
Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”
Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.
“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.
Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of orchid in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and amber at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 
You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.
“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You bopped his forehead with a finger in warning against further sass.
“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.
“Oh yeah like what?”
“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”
The outburst was immediate.
“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”
Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.
The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 
When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.
“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”
You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is so pretty.”
He ignored you. As expected.
“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”
He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?
Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.
“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”
After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.
You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.
You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh in a modest slip. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you giggled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.
“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.
Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”
Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.
Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.
He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how your body felt under his hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.
The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.
All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.
Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.
Next->
2K notes · View notes
starrluvs · 7 months
Note
the facesitting drabbles, ughhhhhh could you possibly do one with johnny cage & kenshi too?? doing gods work fr <3
𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 + 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆
cw: afab reader, oral (fem receiving), facesitting, established relationship, mentions of kenshi's tower ending
wc: 749
a/n: omg my second anon request! yall are already making me so happy, and i hope i delivered properly! and i wasn't expecting these facesitting drabbles to get so much attention, but tysm!! also my asks are still open, so feel free to request something! im in desperate need of ideas 😭
Tumblr media
𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄
johnny was always adventurous when it came to trying new things in the bedroom. but when he asked you to sit on his face, you weren't too fond of the idea… what if you accidentally ended up hurting him? with a bit of (classic johnny cage) sweet talk, you reluctantly agreed. 
and you were very fortunate for giving in to him eventually because you felt as if you were on cloud nine. johnny always had a pleasure for pleasing partners, so he’s gone down on you multiple times before… but the feeling of literally having your pussy all over his face like this was certainly something transcendent.
all your worries were washed away as he worked his tongue inside of you, desperately trying to reach in as far as he could. johnny’s actions made your eyes roll back in pleasure as you let out a string of moans along with his name.
the actor chuckles underneath you and decides to change things up, relishing in all the reactions you offered him. his big hands secured a strong grip on your hips as he helped you ride his face at a steady pace.
you feel your clit occasionally bump on his nose, followed by the flat surface of his tongue collecting all your juices as he helps you rock back and forth above him. the feeling of him stimulating your core started to become overwhelming as that familiar coil starts to bubble up inside of you.
you grab johnny’s hair and an incoherent warning escapes your lips, trying to tell him you were close– but it proved to be useless as he felt your thighs spasming around his head. the actor grins as he looks up at you and lets you ride out your high with his tongue.
he could tell you finally washed away that worry of ‘hurting’ him once you looked down at him with lust filled eyes– your lips slightly parted as you were catching your breath. his well kept brown hair was now a disheveled mess and your slick was smudged all over his face.
your beloved hollywood star looked like a work of art.
Tumblr media
𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈
gaining his new occupation with the outworld investigation agency meant kenshi became a very busy man. he knew how much time he’d have to put into this and he knew he couldn't always be there to coddle you. however, when he did get the time to make up for his absence, he knew how to properly deliver.
his apology this time around resulted in you sitting on top of the ex-yakuza’s face with his tattooed hands roaming all over your breasts, hips, thighs, ass, everything– all while his tongue licked fat stripes up your pussy.
your thighs felt like cushions around his head, and the warmness of it made him feel like he wouldn’t mind taking a load off from work and staying trapped beneath you forever. his tongue was warm and his occasional strikes against your clit were sharp and steady, making your head spin.
trying to hold back your moans, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, causing all your sounds to come out muffled. much to the swordsman's displeasure, he bites your inner thigh and makes you yelp. knowing better than to test him, you whine and remove the back of your hand, allowing your noises to come out freely.
despite kenshi still being able to see in his own way with the guidance of sento and his ancestors, he had learned to deeply appreciate his sense of sound (and taste, in this position) ever since he was blinded. the ex-yakuza relished in your sounds much more than he used to before the events that transpired in outworld. 
muttering out an apology to him, kenshi smirks and dives back into your heat. his hands rest on your ass as he squeezes it and ushers you to grind harder on his face. you don't disappoint– grinding messily over his mouth while he attempts to catch it all with his tongue had you moaning in delight. 
you missed this, you missed him– the feeling of his tongue hitting angles inside of you that nobody else could. the feeling of his hands gripping at your flesh, urging you to chase your high. hell– even the feeling on his stubble scratching against the inside of your thighs and your puffy lips down there…
and fortunately for you, kenshi had no intentions of letting you rest tonight.
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 27 days
Note
hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3
Thank you for requesting sweetheart!
cw: signs of anxiety
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 
Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 
Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 
“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 
“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 
“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 
You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 
“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 
By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 
“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 
“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 
Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 
You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 
“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 
“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 
James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 
“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 
Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 
James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 
“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 
A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 
Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 
You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 
Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 
“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 
Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 
“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 
You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 
You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 
“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 
Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 
Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 
You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 
“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 
“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 
You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 
“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”
You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 
“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  
“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 
“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you admit. 
There’s a brief pause. 
“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”
652 notes · View notes
lovebugism · 2 months
Note
Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]
summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)
pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader
tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies
Tumblr media
You never did crack open that bottle.
The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.
There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.
Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.
Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 
He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.
“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”
“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”
You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”
Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”
He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.
“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”
You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.
“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”
“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.
You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”
“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’
You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.
Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”
“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 
“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”
“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.
The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”
You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”
Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”
“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.
Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”
“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”
“You couldn’t,” he insists.
You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”
Eddie grins. “Good.”
“Good,” you echo.
“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 
He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.
Except you.
“Whaddaya got?”
“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 
Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.
“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.
“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.
Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”
“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”
“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”
—————
You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 
The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…
Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.
You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.
I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…
“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”
Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”
“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.
He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”
Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.
“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”
Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”
Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.
“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”
Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 
Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 
“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”
The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.
“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.
Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”
She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.
Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.
“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.
“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”
You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 
Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.
You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.
“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.
“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.
You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”
You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.
“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.
You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”
“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”
Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.
Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”
“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.
He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”
“Two of them?”
The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.
“Two.”
“One.”
“Two!”
A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.
Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”
Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 
You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.
Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”
The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 
“I think I’m gonna—”
“Well, I should—”
The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.
“You first,” you tell him.
“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 
His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.
“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”
Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 
“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”
“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”
You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”
“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”
“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”
He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.
Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.
You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”
“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.
You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”
And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 
How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?
You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.
“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.
“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.
“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”
“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.
His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.
You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 
Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.
Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.
With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.
“Good night, Eddie.”
691 notes · View notes
choisanboobenthusiast · 8 months
Text
Princess
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: sub!mingi x fem reader
Genre: smut MDNI
Word count: 3.0k
Summary: Mingi is inexperienced, you're not. He finally feels ready to take the next steps in your relationship and you find he is surprisingly more subby than you would have thought.
Warnings: fingering, oral both receiving, established relationship, begging, overall sublike behaviors portrayed by Mingi, reader is a little bit of a switch if you squint? Idk not a lot of warnings here, Mingi has a huge dick and you give him the sloppy toppy, okay? please let me know if I need to add something
a/n: Considering a part two on this based on how well it is received. Personally I live and breathe sub Mingi so I wouldn’t be opposed to a second part. This is my first smut oneshot so any feedback is appreciated 🫶🏻
Part two
You and Mingi had fooled around plenty of times in the near month you two had been dating but things had never escalated to sex. Sure, things got heated but the night usually ended with you naked beneath him as he got you off on his tongue and fingers while he still had his pants on. He was never shy about shedding his shirt, always proud to show off the top half of his body. And why wouldn't he be? He'd worked hard to achieve his current physique.
But when it came to sex you knew he was a little nervous, having only gone that far on a few occasions whereas you were pretty experienced. You never pushed him in that direction, wanting him to be completely comfortable before he got fully undressed with you. And he seemed pretty content with just getting you off, not like you were complaining about that but you wanted to make him feel good too.
Your current situation wasn't much different from any of the other times you two had gotten frisky. You'd gone to Mingi's for a night in of watching your favorite show and eating lots of crappy snacks. A couple episodes in though Mingi had started to trail his hand up your thigh, squeezing it slightly. This wasn't always sexual for him, he really just liked to be close to you. So you didn't give it a second thought, enjoying the feeling of his big, warm hands on you as you cuddled. Mingi was a bit like an oven mixed with one of those giant teddy bears, you always felt small and cozy in his arms. It wasn't until his hand inched closer to your core and his lips pressed softly to your neck that you began to take notice of his actions. You weren't surprised, date nights in often took a turn like this.
He continued to leave small, gentle kisses on your neck while his hand massaged the inside of your thigh. You quickly abandoned your tv show and turned your face toward him. He had a somewhat pleading look in his eyes, he always did, although you'd never actually told him no.
Things escalated rather quickly after that, your tv show now being drowned out by your steady stream of moans and gasps as Mingi worked two of his large fingers inside you. He was taking his time, teasing you by not touching your clit and not increasing his pace just yet. Oh no, not until you asked him for it. He loved to hear your voice whine for him and he knew it would if he was patient. And my god, was he patient. Of course he loved pleasuring you but he loved drawing it out too and he was good at it. Better than anyone you'd ever been with. Besides, he just couldn't deny how hard your breathless little voice made him.
"Mingi..." You sighed exasperatedly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. You knew it's what he wanted and you weren't going to deny him anything right now. "Your mouth, please."
God, he loved it when you asked. He could feel himself growing harder at your request, if that was even possible at this point. He didn't make you ask twice, feeling insatiable himself, and quickly buried his face in between your thighs. You gasped and gripped the couch cushions as he latched his lips onto your clit. You couldn't help the obscenities that rolled off your tongue as he continued sucking on your sensitive bud, finally speeding up the pace in which he fucked you with his fingers.
With his free hand he pressed one of your legs back, your knee and shoulder nearly meeting. You ground onto his face, not being able to control yourself anymore as your hands left their place on the couch cushions and pulled on his short hair. You stared down at the mess of black and blonde between your thighs, thinking you might be pulling too hard. That is until he looked up at you, tongue still lapping at your clit, his eyes more needy than ever. You tugged experimentally and he choked out a whimper. Of course you had pulled Mingi's hair before, you knew he enjoyed it to a certain extent but you'd never been so aggressive with it.
"You like that?" You questioned, your tone genuine.
He nodded and paused for a brief moment to say "pull harder."
You did as he asked and he moaned around your clit, the vibrations of his deep voice causing you to jolt. Mingi had displayed sub-like behaviors before on occasion, usually when you were sitting on his face, which he'd told you was his favorite position to eat you in. A few seconds passed and he pulled away hastily, toppling over you and bringing your lips into a messy kiss, your wetness still coating his mouth. You whined as he removed his fingers from inside you and wrapped your legs around his waist.
"Let's go to my room." He said lowly, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling you up off the couch.
You held onto him tightly as he began walking the both of you toward his bedroom, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs to keep you from falling. You played with his hair and nipped at his neck as your naked body rubbed against his clothed one as he hadn't even managed to peel his shirt off yet. You began grinding against him as best you could in the position you were in. You just couldn't help yourself, you could feel how hard he was through his sweatpants.
"Want you to grind like that on my face, baby." He whispered in your ear before lying down on his back with you hovering above him. You didn't answer and instead continued to kiss his neck and his jaw, loving all the little sounds you were pulling out of him. He groped your ass, attempting to push you upwards to get you where he wanted you. "Please." He whined. "Wanna taste you again. Please baby."
"Okay, but take this off first." You tugged at his white t-shirt and sat back on your heels.
"Whatever you want." He replied quickly, almost as if he didn't mean to say it, like it was a confession and began pulling his shirt over his head.
"Whatever I want, hm?" You questioned and he stopped midway through removing his top, holding it over his face.
"Yes." He answered quietly, the words muffled by the fabric covering his mouth. "Whatever..." He took a deep breath. "Whatever you want."
You giggled at him and his sudden shyness. He had only ever been shy like this towards the beginning of your relationship when he'd admitted to you that he was super inexperienced. You didn't mind though, secretly taking pleasure in teaching him, especially because he was very eager to learn just how to pleasure you. He'd done all the basics before but just like with sex he had really only done them a handful of times. He had quickly become super comfortable with you and you wondered now if his sudden word vomit meant what you thought it did.
"Mingi?" You pushed his shirt over his head, revealing his pink tinted cheeks. He averted your gaze immediately as his cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment. "You mean whatever I want?" He nodded silently, his lips pressed together tightly. You chuckled at him again, assisting him in removing his shirt completely and tossing it to the side. "So... if I told you to take these off too?" You fingered the band of his sweatpants and ground yourself onto his cock. He whined in response, finally working up the courage to look you in the eye.
"Y-yeah." He breathed out. "I'll take 'em off."
You bent down to kiss him, hands wandering over his toned chest. "I'll do it for you, baby." You said quietly in his ear.
You were slow with your actions, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine. You kissed down his jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of his collarbone as his breathing got heavier. He was raking his fingers through your hair, holding it away from your face gently as he watched you go lower and lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his abdomen. The muscles in his stomach tensed when you palmed him through his sweatpants and he sucked in sharply.
You had waited for this for a while, what felt like quite a long time. You were excited to finally be able to give back to him what he had given to you so many times. Not only that but you were dying to know what he looked like from the waist down, what he tasted like and what he felt like, in every sense of the word. You had certainly felt him through his pants pretty often so you had a fairly good idea of his size, you knew he was big but you could only tell so much with a barrier in place.
After what felt like a very long time of nothing but kissing and touching his chest and his arms you finally hooked your fingers into the top of his sweatpants. You shuffled your body down to rest around his knees and carefully began pulling the fabric down his hips. You very quickly realized he wasn't wearing any boxers as he lifted himself slightly off the bed to allow you to pull his pants down further.
"No underwear?" You teased, deciding to test the waters. "Naughty boy."
He gulped and stuttered. "I-I knew you were coming over so I didn't... put any on." You couldn't lie, he was adorable like this. With his face flushed, ears pink and that same pleading look in his eyes. There was no denying it, he liked the way you were treating him.
You had to stop yourself from audibly gasping upon getting his pants down his thighs, seriously. This is what he's been hiding? You thought before gently wrapping your hand around the base, your fingers unable to meet. "Mingi, you're... huge." You placed your other hand around him, running your thumb over his sensitive tip, already leaking precum. He choked out a sound you'd never heard him make before as his hands flew to cover his face. Was he embarrassed? Usually men of his size were more than happy to show it off. You wondered if this was why it had taken him so long to be intimate in this way with you.
"Sorry, I-I know I'm big. Maybe I should have said something or.. I don't know." He rambled. "We can stop if you want."
"Stop?" You began running your hands up and down his length. "Mingi, why on earth would I want to stop?"
"Cause aren't you kind of ungh i-intimidated?" His hands flew to fist the sheets, eyebrows furrowing as you continued your slow motions. "I don't wanna hurt you." He cringed at his own words.
"Don't worry about me. I promise, I'll be fine." You shifted off his legs, releasing your grasp around him and pulling his pants all the way down his legs. You'd always known Mingi had huge thighs but getting to see them like this had you drooling. You ran your hands over his tense muscles and he shivered beneath your touch, looking at you with desperation, plush lips parted ever so slightly. "I bet you don't really know how to use this thing, huh?" You teased, stroking him a single time. His breath hitched and he shook his head.
"Sh-show me." His voice nearly a whimper. "Like you showed me everything else."
He was unbelievably hot like this, naked, sprawled out on the bed for you with his face scrunched and chest heaving. So desperate to be touched. You knew you could get him to beg for it. You knew that he wanted to. You danced your fingertips lightly over his cock and ran your hand up his chest, resting it softly at the base of his neck.
"You want me to show you?" You asked, kissing his shoulder. He nodded quickly. You brought your lips up to his ear and whispered. "Big boys use their words."
"Yes, I want you to show me." He answered, his voice quiet and deep.
"Hmm." You trailed your fingers across his collarbone and over his chest, testing another boundary by grazing one of his nipples. He sucked in sharply. "It doesn't sound like you want it that bad."
"I-I do!" He protested. "I do want it, please, I want it so bad."
"Okay, since you asked so nicely." You smirked, shifting to straddle his legs again as your hands wrapped around his cock, stroking gently. The idea of riding his face now long forgotten as you continued to pump him slowly, avoiding his sensitive head to tease him.
His hands were still fisted in the sheets as he watched you. The sight of your tiny hands around his huge cock enough to cause his muscles to tighten and his breath to quicken. His eyebrows strung together as breathy little moans fell from his parted lips and his hands flew to clutch at your thighs as his hips began to buck up every now and then.
"Please." He mumbled, fingers pressing harshly into your flesh. "Please, more."
"Oh Mingi, you beg so nice for me." You finally allowed your thumb to swipe over the head of his cock while you stroked him, earning you a string of whines as he pressed his head back into the pillow.
"Fuuuck." He groaned.
"You want more?" You asked, quickening your pace just slightly. "Want me to suck you off?"
"Fuck yes." He answered, squeezing your thighs.
"Gonna be a good boy and sit still for me?" You shuffled further down his legs, his hands falling back onto the sheets.
"Yes, I'll be good, I promise." He breathed.
"Who knew you were such a sub, Mingi?" Before he could utter another word you took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it gently and running your tongue along the slit. His hands flew into your hair immediately, aiding you in keeping it away from your face while also enjoying the image of your lips wrapped around him. He was too large to fit all of him in your mouth but you tried you best, taking in as much of him as you could until he hit the back of your throat. Once you had as much of him in your mouth as you could manage you peered up at him and god, was he a sight. Mouth agape, body glistening with sweat as his large chest heaved and his eyes stared back at you. You began moving your mouth up and down his length at a languid pace, making sure to hold eye contact with him and keeping a hand on the base of his cock to jerk off what didn't fit in your mouth. Your other hand massaged his hip and thigh gently as you continued your ministrations.
"Feels mmph feels so good." He brought his lower lip in between his teeth as he continued to watch you bob your head up and down his length, the muscles in his abdomen flexing over and over again involuntarily.
You popped your mouth off of him momentarily to take a breath, a string of your spit and his precum connecting your lips to his leaking member. As you caught your breath you licked him like a popsicle, relishing in all the pretty noises you were pulling out of him, sounds you'd never heard him make before, moans and whimpers you could listen to on repeat.
"I'm gonna cum." He suddenly announced, his grip on your hair tightening.
"Already?" You mocked, flicking your tongue over his sensitive tip.
"Unngh, yes." He whined, his body beginning to writhe beneath you, eyes closing tightly. "Please, please put me back in your mouth." He pleaded desperately. "Wanna cum in your mouth, please."
"Do you think you've earned that?" You began to suck on his cockhead again and he groaned loudly. You loved how vocal he was being, never having heard him like this before.
"I will!" He cried. "I'll do whatever you want just, fuck, please let me."
You didn't make him beg anymore and took him back into your mouth quickly. His hips bucked up at the feeling of your hot mouth enveloping him again and in seconds he was moaning louder than ever before. "C-cumming, I'm uhhnf-" His voice caught in his throat as he released in your mouth, holding your head down until the tip of his cock nudged at your throat. You couldn't help but choke around him as you did you best to swallow his load, surprised by his sudden movements. After a few moments his dick stopped twitching and he released his hold on your head. You came off him with a gasp, wiping the remnants of his cum from your lips and chin with your hand. He lied breathless beneath you as his cock began to soften, eyes still closed.
"Mingi..." you moved to straddle his waist, hovering above him, not quite letting your bodies touch. You stroked your hands gently over his chest and took his flushed face in your hands before kissing him roughly. He moaned into your mouth as your tongues slid over one another's, not seeming to care that you tasted like him. His hands fell weakly on your hips, tugging slightly, urging your body to make contact with his. "Mingi." You repeated, petting his hair softly, waiting for him to open his eyes and look at you.
"Hmm?" He questioned, a tiny content smile on his lips.
"Would you look at me a second?" You giggled. He opened his eyes then, although only about halfway. "Do you want to keep going? You seem a little... sleepy?"
"No, no, I'm not sleepy!" He protested. "Just felt so good." He sighed happily. "You're really... you're really good at that." He confessed with a grin.
"Thank you." You smiled genuinely down at him. "You did so good for me." He blushed at your praise and gave the flesh of your hips a languid squeeze.
It's not long before Mingi is rummaging through his nightstand, searching for a condom, while you discard that last bit of clothing you had on, eager to continue.
part 2…
2K notes · View notes