#stress relief | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Customer Service | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!reader

Summary: After a particularly rough week, all you want to do is cry. It has you on edge and makes you say things you don’t mean. After letting out your anger on your boyfriend, he makes it his mission to take care of you for a change.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), Matt Murdock eats pussy like a champ, fingering, squirting (I feel filthy), emotional hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no pronouns, reader has female body parts, 1st person pov (?)

a/n: As someone who quit their job in customer service for the exact same reasons I have stated in this fic, this is very personal to me and self-indulgent, again. I wrote this after a particularly bad day. Sometimes I wish Matt were real so he could actually do this to me.

There is nothing in all of existence that I loathe more than people. Why I chose to work in customer service in the first place has become more and more of a mystery to me. I could have quit after the first week, I should have, but whenever the thought crosses my mind, I tell myself: ‘It’s going to get better. You will get used to it.’ I did not, in fact, get used to it. Or, I did, I just started to hate myself even more. Every day I get home from an eight-hour shift, I’m tired, I’m exhausted and I feel the desperate need to throw myself off a cliff.

There are days when it’s easier. The elderly couple who comes in every Sunday, for example, to drink their coffee and have a lengthy conversation over a piece of cake, never fails to make me smile. They’re always kind, and forthcoming and they tip, even though I know they don’t have the money to.

Or the woman who likes to pick up lunch for her husband, she always calls me sweetheart, and she’s never bothered if her order takes just a little too long. The regulars chat me up and I like it because it makes me feel less alone behind the counter, as life passes me by and I can’t help to stare at the clock every five minutes to calculate how many hours of the day are left. They make it easier to forget about the overtime I inevitably have to put in every night. They know I don’t eat enough or smile enough or drink enough, and so they make me smile because they’re good people.

But some continuously want to tell me how to do my job, the one I’ve given blood and sweat for to master down to the smallest detail, and those who treat me like I’m responsible for their bad days and those who don’t care that I’m human, I just have to serve.

It’s so exhausting that some people don’t care about the workers behind the counter. I hate that my boss doesn’t seem to care either, that we don’t get paid enough, and that I’m expected to jump whenever they want me to. I got a life too, but that doesn’t matter because I’m cheap and they love to use those who never learned how to say no.

I physically can’t tell them I can’t work whenever I’m asked to pick up an extra shift, or when I’m sick or have to do anything else. It’s not even my main occupation and yet, here I am! Every day, I tell myself, I should just quit. It’s not my responsibility if they can’t treat their employees right. It’s not my responsibility they’re understaffed. I’m a student, I go to college, and I’m working hard on my degree - why should I prioritize my job over the thing that will determine the rest of my life?

And yet, every day, I go back. I go back and I work until my feet hurt and I’m sick and I’m tired and all I want to do is just cry. I go back because I, for the life of me, can’t say no. I can’t quit. I want to, but I can’t, and it’s killing me inside that I can’t talk about it the way I want to. In the end, I will always feel like everything is my fault and that I messed up, even though all I did was show up to work and turn into everyone’s punching bag.

My stupidity is what got me here. Usually, I would be home now, studying, but they asked me to pick up a late shift at the cafè again, and I worked for seven hours with only a fifteen-minute break in between - I look horrible, I smell of coffee and cake, and my body is hurting in all the wrong places. The weight is heavy in my stomach. I’m nauseous. I ate, but not enough. I’m hungry. I feel sick. Even the smallest sounds make me want to jump up the wall, kill someone, or perhaps even both. I’m angry, and I don’t even fucking know why because nothing happened. Other than a rather messy day with too much to do and too few people to do the work, the people weren’t even rude and I’ve had worse days - still, I feel everything at once and it’s ridiculous, really, because I’m an adult and I should know better than to let a rough day affect me. I don’t.

When he called and asked if I wanted to come over, I said yes. I didn’t want to, but saying no? Not something I would do, especially not to him. I walked into his apartment with a lump already in my stomach. The door creaked - God, I told him to oil it - and that was the first strike. I tossed my key into the bowl and it promptly fell back out. Second strike. My coat slipped from the hanger the second I hung it up. Third strike. I breathed, I had to, then went to the kitchen to make some dinner. Cooking usually works, usually, but the day must have gotten to me because the fourth strike - the fucking milk being expired - happened way too soon and it hit me, hard. After that, I was pretty much done for, and I knew, I just chose to ignore it.

Of course, I should have known I would screw up everything else, too.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is kind and soft in my ear as he presses a kiss to my cheek. His stubble has never been something to bother me before until that very moment. I flinch away, not sure why. If he realized it - which I’m sure he did - he doesn’t show.

“Smells good,” he says.

I put the garlic into the pan. It smells too much like garlic and I hate it.

“What you making?”

“Pasta,” I tell him.

He kisses me again. “Mh-hm. How was your day?” the question is stupid, but it’s normal and he always asks. He gets himself a beer - only himself - removes the cap with his mouth and then leans against the counter.

He shouldn’t infuriate me. He shouldn’t make me angry just by standing there and asking me questions couples ask themselves, but inevitably, he does. And I hate myself all the more for the way my voice sounds when I answer him.

“Fine,” I say.

“Fine?” he asks. “How was work?” I feel like he’s getting suspicious. “You only had two lectures today, right? English lit and what was the other one?”

“Linguistics.”

“Ah, yes. Your least favorite.”

Perhaps that’s why I’m angry.

“You know,” he says and the tangent he goes on after revolves around him and only him, and while I don’t like talking about myself, that doesn’t mean he has to unload all of his stress on me - I don’t know why I think that way and it’s scaring me because I don’t actually feel that way, but at that moment I do and it’s all very confusing.

I just want to lock myself in his bedroom and cry. He looks so good with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. He’s wearing his glasses, still, but his tie is loosened and he smiles because he knows I love that smile. I should love it. I should love the way his muscles tense underneath his shirt or the way his dress pants hang impossibly low on his hips, but for the first time, I don’t. I don’t love anything, I just feel anger, which makes me hate everything, but mostly myself.

I must have zoned out. Suddenly, he’s calling my name and he’s calling me sweetheart and he’s poking me with his hands - no, he’s stroking my hips, hugging me from behind, and it’s all too much. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lie. He knows I’m lying. He can hear it in my heartbeat. He can feel it in the way I move away from him to rinse the now-empty pan in the sink.

How is the food already finished?

“You didn’t listen to a word I just said,” he dares to sound offended.

“No, I did.”

“Really, what did I say?”

“You and Foggy had a case, didn’t go well, bla bla bla. Same as every day.”

He sets the bottle down. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s wrong? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Oh, so just because I don’t care about hearing the same story repeat itself every day and you whining about it means there’s something wrong with me?”

He’s taken aback. Quite frankly, I’ve never snapped at him before, not like this, not out of nowhere, and we’ve been dating for over a year. With his super senses, there is little that eludes the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, especially when it comes to his girlfriend. I hate that it’s like this. I hate not having any privacy, even when I try to. But I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want privacy. Or, I think. I don’t even know what I want. I know I want to be around him, but at the same time, it hurts because the anger is too damn hot to swallow, and his concern doesn’t make it any better. It should be, but it’s not. I’m a lost cause.

“I was just telling you about my day,” he says. I would yell back at myself if I were him, but he knows me. He knows yelling doesn’t help. He knows I’d cry, but maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want him to yell just so I have a valid reason to cry, to be angry.

I want him to hate me the way I hate myself.

That’s why I can’t help it anymore. “Maybe I don’t want to hear about your day.”

“What?”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Matthew!”

He’s confused. I don’t blame him. The second the words left my mouth, I regret them. They make me sound like the most selfish person on the whole planet. I can’t take them back though. If I did, he’d know something is wrong and then he’d worry, he’d pity me and no, I don’t want that. I want to rile him up. I’m not sure why, but it makes me so angry that he’s so calm and I’m… well, I’m me, but I’m also not me. I’m a stranger in my own body.

I put the pasta in a bowl. It stinks of alcohol and tomatoes and garlic, too much of it. I wonder how anyone could eat that.

“Here,” I shove it into his hand, “You’ve been served. I’m gonna take a shower.”

I’m a bad person. I’m pretty sure I am. Who yells at their boyfriend because they can’t deal with their own problems? Who makes the person they love more than life itself feel like shit on purpose for no reason whatsoever? A sane person wouldn’t. We have never been a normal couple, Matthew and I, but we’re trying. Turns out, I suck much more than I thought I would.

It’s not the age gap, I’m sure of it. I’m in my last year as an English Major and he’s a defense attorney. Somehow, we make it work. He loves me, I know he does. He’s afraid of rejection - he thinks everyone he loves will leave him, which is why it took us a while to find together. I should have known my words were going to hurt him unimaginably. He thinks he did something wrong, but it’s not him. It’s never him. He’s damaged, but he’s nothing if not perfect to me, most of the time.

I’m heavily crying at this point, trying to conceal my sobs, but it’s not working. The water is loud, not loud enough to fool Matt’s hearing, but even if he were to hear it, he knows better than to provoke me any further. He doesn’t know what’s going on and neither do I, so it’s just the two of us silently waiting for the other to come around. He shouldn’t have to feel that way. And so I cry more because God, I do not deserve that man. I don’t deserve his kindness or his love. I don’t. I really, really don’t.

And once I’m out of the bathroom, I remember why I don’t deserve him.

The table is set for two. Candles substitute for the harsh ceiling light. He knows it gives me headaches sometimes. He put a bowl out for me and a glass of wine. White wine. The sweet kind. The kind he hates but keeps around in case I ever need a glass. He’s drinking red wine. It’s cheap, but it looks expensive and he likes to feel special from time to time.

I hug my arms around my body. He has his back turned to me, fixing a salad in the kitchen - I must have forgotten it. The way he moves is almost angelic. He moves as if nothing happened, as if I didn’t just treat him like a bitch. He’s singing my favorite song or humming it, anyway. The room smells of him and me and the food I loathed before, but watching him do all of this for me, even now, is sucking the air out of my lungs and suddenly, I don’t mind the thought of eating with him.

I only want one thing. I don’t want to ask for it and he’s not going to do anything unless I talk. We agreed on that from the beginning, no matter what kind of intimacy it involves. Without consent or a proper conversation, nothing will happen. And I curse myself for not being able to speak without the tears blocking my view again.

“There’s a sweater on the couch,” he states. He knows I’m cold. “And some fuzzy socks, if you want.”

The clothes smell like him.

“I put some more salt in the pasta. I think you forgot to salt the water, so I took it upon myself. I hope you don’t mind. Also, I tried to make your favorite salad dressing, but I’m not sure if I managed to get it right this time.”

He smiles and then his glasses are gone and he has an apron on and he looks like he loves me, really loves me, and that’s it. I pull my legs up to my chest, falling deep into the couch and I cry. All the pain just comes exploding out of me like an active volcano.

The leather dents next to me. “Comfort or solution?” he asks. It’s so casual, I get the feeling he’s not mad at me.

“I don’t know,” it sounds so broken.

His arm finds around my shoulder. “Is this okay?” I can only nod. Yes.

He moves me gently so I’m in his lap and he can rock me like a baby. It feels good to be loved like this, but it’s also suffocating. Still, I can’t help but fall deeper into his hold because this is, in fact, all I needed. Too stubborn to ask for it, I almost ruined something good. I know I did. He knows, too, but unlike me, he knows the difference between me being mad at him and being mad at the world. He knows I don’t mean what I say unless we’re fighting, and this isn’t it. We’re not fighting. I’m just angry and I want to cry, even while crying, and that makes me cry even more.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks once I can finally breathe again.

I blow my nose like a disgusting person and say, “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.” And that about sums up all of my life.

“Is it school?”

I shake my head. If it’s not school, it can only be one other thing.

“Work?”

I nod.

“Anything happen or just a bad day?”

“Bad day.”

“That’s why you yelled at me? I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No,” I say truthfully for the first time. “I’m just angry. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time try telling me though. I was actually scared I did something until I heard you cry in the shower.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I tell him that, to which he only chuckles.

“You know how many times I acted hostile towards you after a long day?” he says. “It happens. It’s okay.”

“I just… I’m so stressed all the time. I hate work and I hate people and I hate not getting paid enough or on time, but I can’t quit because you know, I’m me and they know that, so they take advantage of my inability to say no, and it sucks because I’m so tired of working more than I go to school, but I need the money, and so I can’t leave until I’ve found another job, but no one else wants me, so now I’m here, trying to see the good in this stupid job, but I don’t. I can’t. I hate it. I hate everything and everyone and I hate myself and I think I’ll get my period soon because this should not be upsetting me this much.”

His hand on my back manages to soothe me.

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it.

He smiles down at me, all loopy, and his sightless eyes are focused somewhere on my forehead, which makes everything so much better.

“I love you.”

And yes, I love him too. I love him so fucking much, it hurts.

“I love you too, Matty.”

As soon as I say his name, he knows what I want. He knows I need to destress. He knows I can’t eat until I can forget.

“Is there something I can do?” he asks, but damn him, he already knows.

“Can you…” no, I can’t ask him for that.

“Yes?”

“Matt, can…” No. “You know what, never mind.”

“No, sweetheart. Tell me. What do you need?”

“I just…” my chest heaves a frustrated groan. “IneedyoutoeatmeoutuntilIcantremembermyname.”

He enjoys it. He gets off on it, my desperation. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did. Can you repeat that?”

“God.” My face is burning.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, this is the first time you actually asked me and I love hearing you ask for the things you want. It’s sexy.”

Somehow, that’s even worse. My thighs clench like I’m some pathetic little schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher.

“You know, maybe you can ask for a raise tomorrow, or quit altogether,” he says. “But for that to work, you have to tell me what you want right now.”

“I asked you to eat me out until I can’t remember my fucking name!”

“Thank you. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If there is one thing Matt Murdock is incredibly skilled with, it’s his mouth. And I don’t just mean the words that come out. Essentially, it’s all in his tongue. He’s managed to render me speechless on more than one occasion, and he knows. He knows I love when he touches me, but there are times when it has to be about me, and only me, and he’d gladly suffocate between my thighs. He’s told me that time and time again.

He keeps telling me to ask him if I want something. I never do. I hate asking for it because it’s embarrassing. It’s good that he knows what he’s doing, that bastard because if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be cumming and I wouldn’t tell him. Somehow he always gets the job done, no matter how stressed I am.

That’s why I need it so badly. I need him to take care of me, no matter how long it takes. I know it might take a while because I’m tense and he knows too. He reads my body like an open book. That’s how he knows I’m horny before I even do.

He doesn’t move for another minute. He just stares at me. “You want me to take care of you?” he asks.

“Please,” I beg.

“Guess I’ll have dessert before dinner today then.”

He lifts my head and then he’s suddenly on top of me. He’s sliding me up the couch so he can fit in between my legs. I’m dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and his sweater and for a second I wonder if it’s even worth it. I’m ovulating, I’m bloated. I feel like shit. My hormones are all messed up. I can feel the weight of my boobs tear on my back and I’m pretty sure the hairs on my legs prickle his cheek as he kisses them. It’s making me want to take back everything I asked of him.

My confidence has taken a low blow this past week.

Though Matt doesn’t care, he never does. He digs his nose between my thighs and takes the longest whiff I’ve seen him take in a while. To be fair, the last time we saw each other, he was busy with work. We didn’t have time for intimacy, which hardly ever happens. He moans.

Smug bastard.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me. It melts my heart. The compliment means so much more knowing he can’t physically see me. To him, I’m beautiful. He couldn’t care less about what I looked like. Although sometimes I wonder what picture he has made up of me in his mind.

His lips are on mine fast. I can’t help but sigh. They’re so soft. He doesn’t rush, he just kisses me and then kisses me some more. I tangle my hands in his hair. I’m sure, this is what heaven must be like.

“Let’s take this off.” His sweater joins my shorts on the floor. “May I?” He hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of my panties. “Or do you want me to keep them on?”

I have no doubt he could do it with five layers in between and still make me cum.

“Off,” I say. I want this. I have to remind myself that my insecurities mean nothing – he loves me. He wants to do this for me. He wants to do this because he likes it, or else he would say it.

Matt is vocal, but I’m not. If he doesn’t want to do something, he’ll say. Can’t say the same about me, which is why he asks repeatedly, even after I already told him it’s okay. He wants to make sure I’m on board, that I don’t feel pressured and can pull out any time I want, but I don’t, because the second the cold air hits my bare cunt, all I want is him.

I can feel his eyes searching for me. “Hey,” he says my name. “We’re not playing this time, okay? You can cum when you need to and how many times you want to. You just have to lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you.”

He intertwines our fingers on either side of my spread thighs before he dives into me. It’s slow and steady. He doesn’t care about fucking me with his tongue like he usually does. He licks and bites, but mostly, his tongue and lips stay around my clit and they suck. They suck so good, I see stars behind my eyes. His touch sends shocks down my spine. My sensitive walls clench around thin air, but his head is so far between my thighs, I still manage to feel full.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus. It feels so good, way too good, and on any other day, I would’ve come by now. His beard burns into the inside of my thigh as I rock against him. I try to, but it’s exhausting. I can feel the coil in my lower belly clear as day, and yet it’s too far out of reach. I need it, I crave it.

I can hear myself saying, “This could take a while.” And he laughs because he finds it funny. It’s not funny though, it’s serious. I hate the fact that he makes me feel so good and I can’t find it in myself to enjoy.

“Close your eyes,” his breath fans hot against my folds. “And just stop thinking.”

He makes it his mission to ruin me. I close my eyes and as soon as I do, he’s on me. It’s not just his mouth. One of our joined hands reaches up to touch my breast – he twists my nipple through the shirt until it’s hard and has his attention. The other reaches behind me and lifts my hips. The next thing I know, he has me propped up on a pillow. The muscles in my lower back relax. I sigh. It’s so good.

He’s given up on slow and steady. His head moves in circles as he abuses – I don’t have another word for it – my clit and eats the rest of me like a man starved. I realize I need it fast and I need it hard. He knows it before I do. His tongue expertly parts my wet folds, a mix of arousal and spit trickling down my thighs, but I could care less. He’s inside of me and then his thumb is there and it’s rubbing and rubbing and rubbing and I’m so fucking close, the knot in my stomach feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, and it’s applying sweet, sweet pressure on cunt.

“Fuck!” I throw my head back into the leather. My back arches impossibly high, and his head squished tightly between my thighs. I need him closer. His hair is so soft, it makes me want to cry, and I do. I cry, but not in a sad way. I cry out because yes, God yes! and then I’m cumming, suddenly and without warning, hard, all over his face, and it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop.

The growl is animalistic. It vibrates perfectly through my pussy and I can’t help it – it barely takes two minutes until his lips start hurting so good as they keep sucking my clit, a series of ‘one more’ leaves his lips in a plea, and I’m rocking against him hard. I’m begging him, “Matt,” but I’m not sure what for.

“C’mon,” he says, “you can give me one more.”

He’s right. God, I hate when he’s right. My toes curl and I push his face so deep into me, I’m convinced he’s running out of air, but that’s what makes him moan and it sends me over the edge.

I’m pretty sure I passed out. The pleasure is so intense, my stomach feels like it’s being torn apart and then put back together. The world is dark and for the first time today, quiet.

Something nudges my cheek softly. It’s his hand. Matt kisses me and I can taste myself on his lips. “Hey,” he coaxes me back into lucidity. “There you are. Are you okay?”

I nod.

“You need anything?”

It’s a reflex, reaching for him. He gasps slightly when my hand touches between his thighs, expecting to find a visible bulge, but there is none. I’m not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but there is a visible wet spot where his dick is supposed to be.

“Did you-“ I finally open my eyes. He looks so drunk in the candlelight. I realize then that he is drunk on me.

He buries his head in my neck. “You’re not the only one who’s been worked up all week,” he says.

“You just- oh, my God.” I never thought it possible that it could be enough for him. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. You’re always so good to me. Good girl. But I think-“ his finger steals my breath as it circles my entrance and promptly slips it inside of me. “You can cum for me again.”

I arch into him. My chest brushes against his. Our shirts suddenly feel like too much clothing and I’m desperate, so I tear at the buttons until they come apart. He has his arm back underneath me, holding me flush against him as if he’s afraid I might slip away.

A wanton moan escapes me. “That’s it,” and his praise is even better. “Think you can take another one?”

He adds a second finger. It burns but only because even after a year, I’m still struggling to take any part of him. His fingers are thick and they’re rough and they’re scratching my inside walls just right. They massage the flesh. He’s pumping his fingers in and out and in and out, and he adds his thumb back on my clit because he knows I won’t be able to cum without it.

All of the stress falls off my shoulders. I feel him everywhere, his kisses, his touch, his hard nipples against mine. He’s hard again, poking against my thigh. I reach for him and he whines, he whines into my mouth. I’m not sure which one of us will come first. I suppose it’s me, it’s always me. He makes sure it will be me.

He hits as deep as he possibly could. His fingers curl inside of me and then, “There it is!” Is so victorious, it makes my eyes roll back. He keeps hitting that particular spot over and over again. My hand clutches his shoulder. I want to scream, but all that comes out is a series of whined and pathetic moans. I can’t help it, my muscles contract around him.

“Damn, you’re gonna break my fingers,” he says. His chuckle is breathless. “You close?”

I hum.

“Do me a favor,” and I expect him to tell me anything but what he requests, “Don’t cum.”

It’s rude. It’s cruel and it’s vile and I want to murder him because just as he says it, the coil tightens impossibly tight and I need to let go. It’s painful to hold it in, especially now. But I do as he tells me nonetheless. I want to please him.

“Matt,” I moan. He’s so unfair and he knows it.

He smirks. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

“St- oh, fuck!” He hits my sweet spot with twice the intensity. I almost cum, but only almost. I keep it together, no matter how much it hurts, and it’s making tears prick at my eyes. “Please, just let me cum,” I hate begging him. “Please, Matty.”

“Shhh. We’re almost there.”

His thumb speeds up. I can see heaven. God is reaching his hand out for me. My stomach is in a tight knot, so tight, the silk might rip any second. The pressure is unreal. My muscles have been trained by him, I admit, but nothing can prepare you for this. Nothing can prepare you for the times when Matt has his mind set on something and he’s going to take it. He’s going to take you.

I can’t think. It’s too much. I know I’m going to disappoint him. The animal inside of me is beyond satisfied and she wants out. She wants to let go. She loves the feeling of his fingers buried to the hilt inside of her. She loves him, and loving him tends to turn into sweet, sweet torture.

I moan his name again. His cock twitches underneath his dress pants, hot against my fingertips.

“Almost,” he promises. “I just want to try something.”

What could he possibly want to-

“Cum.”

I’m flying. My back lifts off the couch and if it wasn’t for him, I would be dead by now. My body is shaking. It’s earth-shattering and it’s wet and it’s everywhere. I can feel the orgasm tearing me apart from the inside, blood rushing in my ears. My senses go black. I can’t see, feel or breathe. Everything is too much. It’s burning, it’s heavy, but it’s amazing.

His fingers don’t stop until he has milked the last drop of me until even the last ounce of stress has left my body and I’m limp. I’m a corpse. I’m barely breathing, a wet sack of potatoes in his arms.

God, the look on his face. He’s cumming too. The wet patch on his pants has doubled. It’s not from me, although I’m suddenly very aware of the fact of what he just made me do.

“Oh.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “That was amazing.”

I never expected to have it in myself. “Oh, Jesus.” My words are highly blasphemous but I don’t care. I’m not even sure how to feel. The blush creeps up my cheeks and I close my legs a little. Everything is so wet. It’s all me and some of him, but mostly me. Just spurts of cum all over his hand and his couch.

He clicks his tongue, shoving my thighs apart. “Don’t go shy on me now,” he says.

“No, it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? Sweetheart, I’ve never felt more proud of myself.”

“I just- your couch. Oh, God.”

“I’m pretty sure the couch will survive it. Leather is easier to clean. How do you feel?”

I sigh, snuggling against his chest. “Better,” I have to admit. “Much, much better.”

“Good.” He kisses my neck. “Can I have my fingers back now?”

“No.” I like the feeling of him inside of me, even if it’s just his fingers. It makes me feel complete, almost.

“Okay.”

“Just gonna rest my eyes now.”

“You do that, sweetie. I’ll be here.”

And he is. He always is. I wake up, and he’s there, and he always will be because he promised me this is forever. Us. Me and him. And I realize then that I’ve never been more in love with another person than I am in love with Matt Murdock.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x afab!reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil smut #smut #fluff #matt murdock angst #hurt/comfort #stress relief #I hate customer service with a passion #I also hate retail #I hate work in general #Matt Murdock rail me challenge

3K notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 24 days

Text

Suspension Tension ~Alex Cabot xFem Reader

Summary— Alex comes home after her suspension tired, exhausted, and stressed. Reader helps her relax, and takes her good care of Lexie baby.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, strap-on sex, light begging, stress relief, stress fucking, fluff, aftercare, happy fluffy ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

The door to your shared apartment slammed shut as you stirred your food on the stove in the kitchen. Alex came barging into the kitchen, throwing her things aside and sitting with a huff on a bar stool by the counter, her hands scrunched in her face and hairline.

“Tough day…?” You gently asked.

She nodded silently.

“Have you eaten?”

“Don’t want food.” She mumbled, shaking her head.

“Wanna to talk about it…?”

Another groan escaped the blonde’s lips. She balled her fists together in front of her before finally looking over at you.

“No. Want you to bend me over the counter and fuck me.”

Your eyes widened slightly and you stopped stirring. You slowly turned the stove off and nodded, with a little smirk.

“Ok, I can do that.” You breathed out, “Strip while I go get packing?”

Alex’s eyes darkened and she immediately nodded. You nodded back before rushing off to the bedroom. When you returned to the kitchen, Alex was naked and had already bent herself over her counter for you. Her tits and face were pressed against the cool marble and her ass was sticking out, ready for you. You gulped and approached her rear. Alex’s eyes widened at the sight of you wearing nothing but your strap, coming up behind her.

You positioned your hands on her hips, then looking towards her to check in.

“Ready? Do you want my fingers first?”

“No fuck just fuck me baby please—” Alex whined, clawing at the counter in desperation.

You sighed and with a nod, aligned the lubed up cock with her tight cunt. With some pressure, you slowly pushed the plastic dick into Alex’s core. The blonde let out a strangled groan of relief, her eyes rolling back as you eventually bottomed her out.

“Yesssssss thank you— now fuck me please…!!” Alex moaned out, her hands gripping the edges of the counter for support.

You slowly pulled out of the blonde before snapping your hips and thrusting your cock back into Alex’s cunt. You repeated this process over and over again, and at the request of the blonde, faster and harder. Hips were snapping, skin was slapping, and Alex couldn’t contain her moans of pleasure. Her mouth was constantly agape, her eyes rolled back, as you worked her up to her climax.

After Alex came crashing down, she went limp against the counter. You hushed and hummed, whispering sweet nothings into the blonde’s ear, helping her down from her high. You then slowly pulled out of her cunt, throwing the strap aside to be cleaned at a later date. You picked Alex up and carried her to the bathroom, once there getting her all cleaned up. You put her in a bath, which she dizzily begged for you to join her. And who were you to deny the woman anything…

“How do you feel, Lex…?” You softly cooed into her ear, as she snuggled into your frame in the water.

“Mmmmm tired but better…” she mumbled.

“That’s good. After this, you’re going to eat something…”

Alex reluctantly nodded, knowing you were right and that she needed food. But she didn’t respond immediately, letting the sound of the water resonate throughout the room for a while.

“I got suspended…” she whispered.

You sat up a little and immediately began caressing the woman’s soaked frame.

“Oh my, Lexie I’m so sorry… What happened…?” you cooed sympathetically.

A tear escaped her left eye.

“It’s… yeah… suspended, a month no pay… Because I didn’t go through proper channels to get a warrant” she whispered softly.

You kissed her forehead gently and nodded along, letting Alex tell you the whole story. Afterwards and once the water got cold, you scooped her up and put her in a warm, fluffy towel. Then you two made your way back to the kitchen where you resumed your cooking and continued to talk through how Alex would spend her time off.

~~~

Alex Cabot Masterlist

#alex cabot #alex cabot smut #alex cabot x reader #Alex Cabot x reader smut #alexandra cabot #law and order svu #svu #svu25 #l&o svu #svu fic #svu fanfiction #svu smut #stephanie march #stress fucking #stress relief #stress sex

69 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 10 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

Stress relief came in many forms, and for Bucky? You knew just how to maximise the relief and get his mind entirely off the troubles of his racing career, you just needed to carry out your plan — subtly, of course.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ❯❯❯ Street Racer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ❯❯❯ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ❯❯❯ Fluff ჻჻჻ SMUT: Fingering (F receiving), unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, car sex, public, clothed sex, so much dirty talk ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, degradation, begging

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ❯❯❯ Look, I do not understand where this came from, but wow — I will be recovering from this one too. I wish you luck.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ❯❯❯ I Feel Like I'm Drowning by Two Feet

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ❯❯❯ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 4 — 'C' Week (Car Sex) — Masterlist

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The night’s sky flew past while the whine of the engine echoed off the barriers of the winding road. It never got old, sitting in the passenger seat while Bucky zipped and pushed the limits of gravity and what was sane – but for a good cause, this time.

Date night was upon you, and ever the adrenaline junkie, you had asked Bucky to take you up to the lookout. The weather was perfect – clear skies gave the perfect opportunity to view the stars and shining moon, and not to mention, with the time of night, there would likely be no one around.

It was perfect for your plan.

The gear change made the engine roar, and you laughed as Bucky threw the Skyline into the turn – back end kicking out and spreading stones and rubber over the shoulder.

“We should do date night more often, baby,” Bucky chuckled, booting the accelerator and pumping the clutch. “Only time I see you so excited is when I’m fucking you.”

“Bucky!” You shrieked, staring at him, mouth agape – but he had a point, you just couldn’t let him know that. “That’s not true!”

The look he gave you, clear and calculating as he upshifted on a straight, made you squirm. “I know you’re lying, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes and pouted at him, but he just shook his head, downshifting for another turn, when the lookout came into view. The sun had long since set, but the glow of the city was bright like a second sun over the horizon, visible even from the steep hill that the Skyline climbed.

“I can’t wait,” you rushed, glancing back into the back seat where a couple of blankets and containers filled with food sat belted in place. “This is going to be so nice, just us two–nothing to bother us.”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” Bucky hummed, turning the Skyline into the empty parking lot, right into the best spot. From your vantage point, the view of the city was wide and beautiful, all the twinkling lights winking at you from afar. “Fuck I’ve missed this. It’s just nice to get away from everything.”

Frowning slightly, you looked at Bucky closely as he killed the ignition. It had been a rough few weeks with the police cracking down on every meet planned, and when a meet did kick off, it was full of arrogant bastards that wore down his already short temper faster than a lit fuse. At your suggestion of a date night, Bucky had jumped on it – though he didn’t know the entire reason.

With tension, you found, Bucky was pent up beyond belief. Fucking that anger and frustration out had been the one release he’s had and exploited, and you weren’t going to lie, it had been amazing. But, tonight, you wanted to be sweet – soft, at least, to begin with.

What Bucky would do once he learnt of your motives… You’d let it unfold, you would win either way – wearing a dress had many pros.

“Alright,” you sighed happily, unbuckling the harness and turning in your seat. “What do you wanna start with, babe?”

Bucky shifted in his seat to face you, his expression thoughtful as he dumped his phone into the glovebox. “I dunno,” he mumbled, looking into the back seat. “What do you want?”

Your dick, you thought hastily – the thought, while not entirely untrue, blurting that out would cause a cascading effect, and you were hungry. Food first, dick later, you decided. “Crackers and cheese?”

The containers fit perfectly between the two of you, and you began to eat while happily chatting, catching one another up on the mundane and inconsequential events in one another’s lives – your workmate’s dating horror story, the projects you’d undertaken. Bucky talked about the events of Steve’s work and tuning his Dodge (not that it made a lick of sense), and the way that Sam had lost his shit at an officer and ended up in a pursuit, and somehow getting away.

From crackers and cheese, you moved onto cakes and chocolate – feeding one another the new flavours you had found in an artisan bakery and remarking on how delicious they were.

Music continued to play from the stereo to fill the stretches of silence between words as you ate, and once you had eaten your fill, you slumped in your seat and stared at Bucky, smiling softly.

“What?” Bucky asked, brow raised as he ran a hand through his hair to tuck it behind his ear. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, baby?”

“Nothing,” you sighed happily, watching as Bucky packed up the containers and stretched to put them onto the backseat. “You’re just so handsome, you know?”

Bucky snorted, but a pink tinge dusted his cheeks, a bashful smile on his lips. “You tryin’ to sweet talk me?”

“Can you blame a girl?” you fired back, smirking. “I’ve got the world’s sexiest man sitting across from me, and he’s all mine.”

“My god, baby-” Bucky laughed, his nose scrunching as he shook his head. “You’re cute. Stop it.”

“No.” Biting your lip, you reached out and cupped his cheek, brushing your thumb gently along his full bottom lip, and his lips parted on instinct. “I will never stop sweet talking my man, because you deserve it, and you deserve all the good in the world–I’m trying my best to give it to you.”

Silence stretched between the two of you, the music over the speakers muting to background noise. Bucky’s stare turned from bashful to absolute shock, like he was the one floundering on what to say. “Let me show you,” you whispered.

“Okay,” Bucky replied, his voice wavering.

Carefully, you climbed over the middle console and straddled his lap, his hands resting on your hips as you pulled him into a passionate kiss that turned heated and desperate once you swiped your tongue over his lips.

Bucky groaned quietly as he opened his mouth, bidding you entry to explore – not that you needed to, you knew his body better than your own. Your hips began to rock slowly over his clothed crotch, the denim of his jeans rough on your bare thighs.

“God, baby, I wanna feel you,” he breathed, pulling away to brush his lips over your neck.

“Go ahead,” you whispered back, lifting up on your knees to unbutton and unzip his jeans. Your concentration faltered when his hand wandered to your cunt to tease your clit.

A low whistle left Bucky’s lips as he brushed a finger down to your weeping entrance. “Already so wet for me, huh? ‘S this all for me?”

“Mhm,” you murmured, finally slipping his jeans down with his help. “Been wanting you all night.”

Bucky grinned and moved one hand to grip the sides of your throat, the other moving back to tease your clit again. “In that case, baby,” he purred. “Let’s see how quick I can make you cum on my fingers first. Can’t have my girl that desperate she’s hurtin’, now, can I?”

“No,” you whimpered. Unbidden, your hips moved to ride his fingers and Bucky chuckled.

“See?” Bucky cooed, flicking your clit once, twice, and you cried out. “Your cunt just wants somethin’ fillin’ her, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, wan’ you, Buck- Please,” you breathed, moaning when he teased your entrance. It was torture waiting this long, but he was nothing if not a tease.

“Oh, you’ll get me, sweetheart, but first,” Bucky purred, pulling your face closer. “First you’ll fuck my fingers.”

Your moans and whimpers echoed in the cabin of his Skyline as he worked his fingers in and out of your cunt, curling them against your walls while his thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this, just a whore who wants to be fucked and filled, aren’t you?”

“Ah–Ah! Ye-” A hiccuped moan interrupted your answer. “Yeah, please, wanna cum- Need your cock!”

“Need you to cum for me first, baby,” Bucky cooed, his fingers moving faster. “You’re squeezin’ me–know you’re close, c’mon.”

It spread slowly, the all encompassing pleasure of a blinding climax gripping you in its clutches. “Bucky! Fuck, put it in me! Wanna cum on your cock, pleasepleaseplease, oh god,” you rambled, groping at his shoulders.

Bucky hissed, a low, “Fuck,” before you were being moved, and his fingers left your cunt, only to be replaced by his cock. “Oh, fuck, baby–so tight, let go, need you to let go, lemme feel it.”

The pace Bucky set was brutal, each thrust up into your pulsing heat punched a moan from your lungs until your thighs started to shake. “‘M coming! Bucky!”

“That’s it, call me, sweetheart,” Bucky moaned. “Let go, now. Cum on your cock.”

Your climax washed over you, sweeping you under and you screamed into Bucky’s shoulder – unable to move through the sensations, nor did you want to, with him guiding you through and prolonging it with long, deep thrusts.

“Fuck,” you gasped once you could breathe. “Fuck me, babe–fuck me.”

“Oh, baby girl, you know not to say that shit to me,” Bucky groaned, the back of his head hitting the headrest with a dull thump. His hair was sticking to his forehead – strands falling into his eyes and curling around his ears.

“Want you to use me,” you urged, kissing down his neck and rolling your hips when his grip faltered. “Go on, fuck me.”

“Shit,” Bucky drawled, his voice breaking. “Fuck it.”

Bucky fucked up into your cunt with abandon, his hips pistoning with such ferocity your breath caught on each thrust, and you tried in earnest to meet them – even as the Skyline rocked with each movement.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” Bucky panted, and you nodded, reaching down your stomach to rub fiercely at your clit. If you came again, and fast, you knew it would tip him over the edge. “You gonna touch yourself for me, sweetheart? Like a fucking slut?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. The first touch made your stomach jolt and you cried out. “Want you to cum–fuck and fill me, Bucky, need it!”

“Know you need it, you fucking slut,” Bucky growled, his tone dangerously low. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are, aren't you?”

Nodding fervently, you sped your fingers up at the first sign of the coil tightening. Bucky groaned loudly and tucked his chin to his chest, lifting his hips with more desperation than before, when you felt the first twitch of his cock deep in your heat. “Yes! Yes, fucking give it to me, babe, please,” you begged, pulling his hair.

“‘M so fuckin’ close,” Bucky whined. “Cum for me again, give me one more, sweetheart. Fuckin’ cum for me.”

The ferocity of the words hit you like a tidal wave, and you were pulled under again, only dully registering Bucky’s shout as warmth bloomed between your legs and leaked down your thighs.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Bucky moaned, his voice hoarse. Aftershocks were making your whole body tremble, and you gripped Bucky for dear life. “I’ve gotchu, baby, breathe.” You fell into his chest when he pulled you in by the waist and he tucked your head into his neck, both of you breathing heavily. “Deep breaths for me.”

You followed Bucky’s inhale and exhale, a set pattern of counting to four with each inhale and exhale, and slowly, your body calmed to a point where you could actually move, and think.

“You need stress relief more often,” you sighed, cuddling into his embrace and smiling when you felt and heard his laugh.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works #Stress Relief

314 notes · View notes

triangular-dude · 10 days

Text

Y’know, maybe in retrospect laying down on the monastery’s roof is not a good idea. Especially sleeping on it.

Devastated that the quality got murdered. Still image under cut

70 notes · View notes

furiousgoldfish · 8 months

Text

Do you ever experience stress so long term, that when it gets released, you struggle to function without it?

Your body is washed with relief but it's so intense it actually hurts; you can't breathe, your limbs go limp, you can't force yourself to do anything anymore, you need to lie down, you can't get up, and you can't focus. It's almost like you go from stress right to grief, there is no time for joy, the waves that hit make you feel that you were suffering for so long, that it was so awful it forced your body on edge for weeks or months, you can finally acknowledge how bad it was, now that you survived it. The release of suffering is so painful it makes an actual negative impact.

#the pain of relief #moving from relief to grieving #trauma recovery #abuse recovery #stress relief #cptsd #complex trauma #it feels more like pain than relief #i want to recover

251 notes · View notes

arthrobug · 4 months

Text

Rayfrog stress relief doodle since I was feeling unmotivated in art and getting a tad sad bout it so I drew tiny queer men and it shockingly worked holy shi-

130 notes · View notes

kjmainuwu · 2 months

Text

Spying?

Dom! Bang chan x Sub! Male reader

Description: Smut! Bang chan and reader are both idols(and dating), and after a long day Chan just wants a release so he does what he does🔥. Reader finds him in their bedroom and a night of romance is followed.

(This is my first ever fanfic so please send recommendations!!)

Narrators POV:

Its been a long day for all JYP idols, especially for the groups St☆r and Stray Kids. Both of the groups are preparing for a comeback and a tour. But of course they had to practice, they did not want to disappoint the st☆ardust and stay around the world. But it seems that two of the idols have been neglecting each other for too long to the point that they barely see each other even though they live together. Those certain idols are Y/n from St☆r and Bang Chan from Stray Kids. And it seems that due to their neglect both of them need a release of stress after all the schedules for practice, planning, and recording has been overwhelming.

Y/n POV:

"Ok I think thats enough for today team!" Said the leader of St☆r. "Gosh that was tiring how much longer till the comeback?" Said Y/n. "Just a couple more weeks Y/n." Said their main dancer. "Well lets get dried up so we can finally have a break even if its just a couple hours." Said Y/n. "Hmm, why the heck do I have so many notifications?" Said Y/n.

Chrissy wake up😴😴

Y/n!

I ended our practice early so i kinda went ahead...

Dont wait for me!

I'll be waiting at home ❤️

Sre you soon!

Kk! We just finished so

I'll be home soon!

Chans POV:

"Ok almost home... gosh i just cant get that image out of my head." The said image was a nude photo of his boyfriend he took weeks before their preparations for the comebacks started. It just couldn't get out of his mind, eventually he realized tent had formed in his pants. His thoughts just kept taking over he can feel his girth slowly increase in size he just couldn't help it. As soon as he got home he bolted to their shared bedroom and he took off his pants and he touched his girth covered by his boxers. He slowly started rubbing, each rub sending waves of endorphins around his body. He couldnt help but moan his boyfriends name each rub. As he was enjoying he sees a sparkle in the door open ajar.

Y/n POV:

"Finally Im home, gosh I cant wait for this day to be over." As soon as Y/n opened the door he could hear his name in small moans coming from his and his boyfriends shared bedroom. As he took of his shoes he slowly crept up the stairs he notices the moans getting louder and louder. As he arrived to their bedroom he saw his boyfriend on the bed enjoying himself. He just couldnt help it, he took out his phone and snapped a photo of his boyfriend. Little did he know the glass of his camera reflected the moonlight causing his phone to shine ehich his boyfriend of course noticed.

Narrators POV:

As the moonlight gleamed on Y/n's phone the eyes of his boyfriend darted to the door creak he crept of the bed his girth left untamed. As he got to the doorframe he turned his hand and grabbed his boyfriends collar dragging him onto the bed, as his boyfriend dragged him y/n yelped. As y/n landed onto the bed his boyfriend pounced on him, and he started to kiss his boyfriend. Y/n could feel his boyfriends excitement pooling, his girth poking at his thigh. Y/n couldn't help it as his member also started to grow. "You're getting excited now arent ya." Said chan. "I cant help it, you just grabbed me and started pounced on me." As they were making out Y/n started to remove his pants, his other hand on his boyfriends nape, he could feel the heat pool up. As soon as his pants were fully removed he used all his power to flip their position. He slowly crawled downwards to his member gripping it with his hand he could feel it was long, hard and veiny. Y/n started to slwoly jerk his and onto his member. Each jerk he could feel the veins carresing his skin as Chan moans. "Im close!" Said chan. So y/n covered his boyfriends head with his mouth, he could feel the release slowly spurt out as hot white cum. He tried to swallow as much as he could but some inevitably spilled from the sides of his mouth. Just a couple seconds after his release Chan immediately grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer, he put some on his hand and then he slathered some onto his long and girthy member he shivers as the cold sensations travels through his body. He pulls his boyfriend up and flipped both of them. He was joe on top of y/n. He slowly took off his boyfriends boxers exposing his plump butt. He slathered the remaining lube on his hand on y/n's hole making him shiver as the cold sensation shocks him. "I'll put 2 fingers in okay? Get ready." Said Chan. He did as he said sending a pulse of endorphins into y/n. His long slender fingers slowly expanded his tight hole. "Adding another one get ready." He did as he said but it wasnt enough for both of them. "Just put it in already!" Said Y/n. Wanting to release already Chan shoved his member into y/n's tight hole he slowly started thrusting in snd out hmof y/n who was letting out small moans each time as Chan lets out pants and moaned. He started thrusting faster and faster leading y/n to jerk his hips upwards towards his boyfriends. Each thrust brought them closer and closer to release. "Fuck, Im close." Said Chan. "Mmhhm* same". As they got closer and closer Chan buckled his hips as hot white semen spurted out of his cock filling his boyfriend, y/n covered his and his boyfriends stomachs in his sticky white semen. After they released Chan fell sideways onto the bed. They were panting and gasping for air as they held each others hands l. Y/n flopped onto his boyfriends chest panting. "Thank you. I think we both needed that." Said y/n. "No. Thank you i just cant get you out of my mind." "I think that calls for a couple more rounds?" Says y/n. Chan just looked at y/n and grinned mentally preparing himself for the night ahead of him.

#bang chan x male reader #bang chan x reader #kpop x male reader #sweet and sexy #stress relief #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x male reader

70 notes · View notes

oliviafitmomof3 · 1 year

Text

#health and fitness #healthy lifestyle #healthy habits #healthy living #positive mental attitude #tumblr #fitblr #health & fitness #health journey #wellness journey #stress relief #stress relievers #boost your immune system #improve your life #take care of your body

1K notes · View notes

hotsecks420 · 21 days

Text

*Claws at your face*

38 notes · View notes

cardio-and-coffee · 11 months

Text

#fitblr #fitness #weight loss #weight loss journey #exercise #fitspiration #health & fitness #fitspo #motivation #workout #yoga #stress relief #de stress

280 notes · View notes

lionofchaeronea · 7 months

Text

#personal #meme #just for fun #self-help #self-care #stress relief

113 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 months

Note

For Barbara Howard could I request a late night date night, after work that turns into a smutty stress relief

Overworked and Underfucked ~Stressed!Barbara Howard xFem Stressed!Wife!Reader

Summary— Read Request. AU where Gerald (Barb’s husband) doesn’t exist. Anon Response— Hello anon!! Thank you for the request! With season 3 of Abbott elementary coming out, this is so fitting. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, oral sex (eating out), fingering, clit stimulation, stress relief, stress fucking, swearing, implied alcohol consumption, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Both you and Barbara made work your lives. You were both passionate about what you did, just as passionate as you were about each other. But work took a toll. Especially on the amount of time the two of you could spend together.

Tonight was the first night that you’d had a date night planned in months, one that was looking like it would not fall through as all the past dinners had. It was late, pitch black outside, but you and Barbara couldn’t care less.

Your arm was linked in Barbara’s, as you two walked from your parked car to the classy restaurant. You had managed to make reservations at the Italian restaurant in town that you and Barbara had gone to for your first date together. Barbara had been buzzing all day, excited to finally have time with her wife.

You got seated by your waiter once in the restaurant, starting to look at the menus.

“They seem to have changed the menu since we were last here…” Barbara observed with a hum past her menu and over to you.

You agreed with a hum and you two began talking. But it seemed that no matter what you two discussed, the conversations always went back to work for both of you.

You eventually ordered your meals and some wine. You both had been working so hard, and the last thing either one wanted to discuss was work. Your food came and you began eating.

You sighed, putting your fork down.

“Barb… I’m going to be honest. As much as I’ve been pushing for a date night, we can’t seem to talk about anything that isn’t our work… so let’s skip the talk. Im not hungry for any real food anyhow, I’m aching to taste you…” you said the last bit under your breath and in a low and sultry tone.

Barbara nearly choked on her pasta. But she quickly washed it down with the rest of her wine, putting her napkin and fork away with a quick nod.

“Alright…” She breathed out, her cheeks slightly flushed from your admission.

Barbara was trying to act composed, as she always did. Her tone was normal. But it was the little things that gave her away… the way she fidgeted as the waiter left to go get you some to-go boxes… the way her gaze fluttered from your lips to your tits to your gaze over and over again… the way she scurried to pack up all the food in the to-go boxes… and the way she practically dragged you out of the restaurant…

You made it all the way to the park car, before Barbara’s hands tugged you by your coat collar, smashing her lips into yours. Normally, her kisses were slow and chaste, sometimes longer if no one was looking. But tonight , her lips were aggressively passionate, nipping at your bottom lip before sliding her tongue into your mouth.

You both pulled away after a couple minutes, completely breathless and flushed.

“Damn Barbara! What has gotten into you?” You chuckled, leaning over slightly and trying to still catch your breath.

“You started it…” Barbara mumbled, before quickly unlocking the car and shuffling you into the passenger seat.

You usually drove her, but tonight Barbara insisted. She was probably speeding most of the way home, but you didn’t care. All you could imagine was your wife. Fully exposed, back arched, mouth open in a silent scream, hand in your hair, as your mouth took her to heaven…

The second she parked the car, you both scrambled to the front door. Within a split second of the door being closed, Barbara crashed back into you, her lips on your once more. Your hands pulled her impossibly close around her shoulders and neck. You guided the woman to your shared bedroom. The door to your bedroom shut behind you, and your body’s entangled into one.

“Haven’t touched you in so long… haven’t been touched…” Barbara murmured into your lips.

Her fingers ran along your coat, then going to remove it. You happily complied, and within minutes, the two of you were completely stripped of all your clothing.

“I know, I know, you’ve been so stressed…” you hum, “Why don’t you lay back on the bed and let me taste you, hmmm my love…?”

Barbara bit her lip and her eyes widened, as she nodded eagerly. The woman fell onto the bed and leaned against the head board, spreading your legs for you. You crawled onto the bed, slotting yourself in between her legs. The poor woman’s pussy was dripping and aching for some lovin’, and who were you to deny your love…?

You used your fingers to spread her pretty pussy lips, then using your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance to her clit. Barbara shivered beneath you, immediately tangling one hand into your hair and using it to push you further into her cunt. You took her silent pleading, diving straight into the woman’s glistening pussy. Your tongue lapped away at her folds, before dipping in and out of her core.

Barbara let out a string of breathy expletives, the kind of words which you only ever heard when the two of you were intimate. Her other hand was buried in the pillows on the bed to her left, clutching onto the bed spread tight. The woman’s head lolled back and her eyes were screwed shut tight. She was so wound up that it only took your tongue for her to cum for the first time that night.

Barbara came with shaking legs and a back arching, blissful disposition. She dropped back onto the bed after her relief, leaving the woman panting and writhing underneath you. You finally pulled away after sucking her pussy clean of any juices, making your way up to Barbara and giving her another deep kiss.

Your and her hands flew to one another’s faces, caressing each other and groaning in delight. After what seemed to be not long enough, you both pulled away in breathless gasps.

“Dear Lord how I needed that…” Barbara breathed out with a chuckle.

You chuckled lightly, as one of your hands wandered down the woman’s frame. Your digits found purchase in between Barb’s legs, where her pussy was freshly aroused, wet and aching once more. Barbara’s breath hitched as your fingers trailed through her folds, spreading her arousal up and around her clit.

“It seems as if we haven’t worked all of your stress out quite yet…” you hum lustfully, eyeing the woman suggestively.

Barbara’s hands grip your shoulder and sides, and her eyes widen as you sink two fingers into her fluttering core. Her mouth goes open in a silent scream as her eyes flutter closed once more.

“Dear G— OhHHhhh Y/N… D-don’t ssstop—” Barbara moaned, her hips jolting up to grind against your hand.

You chuckled, giving the woman a kiss of her forehead, not stopping your administrations.

“Oh I won’t, baby… Not until every ounce of stress is gone from this pretty face… and that precious pussy…” you lustfully cooed, crooking your fingers inside her to punctuate your words.

~~~

Barbara Howard Masterlist

63 notes · View notes