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princessbellecerise · 11 months

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Late Nights

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | Steve’s had a long, long night. And the only thing he wants to come home to is you

warnings | soft sex, soft!steve rogers, slight somnophilia (reader is awake but steve doesn’t know it), creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of size difference and kink, soft slow and romantic, tummy bulge, consensual sex, 18+ NO MINORS

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

You feel the bed sink but you don’t say anything. He’s late again, of course, but you can’t even bring yourself to be mad, just grateful that he’s here and he’s alive, especially in his line of work.

Steve thinks you’re sleeping, so he doesn’t say anything and tries to be as quiet as possible as he stumbles around the room trying to get out of his ripped uniform. He curses a few times before he actually manages to do it, throwing the tattered fabric in the corner and hoping that he doesn’t have to see it for a while.

He’ll ask Tony to repair it in the morning, but for now the only thing he cared about was crawling into bed with you and feeling your warmth. Something he missed terribly during his cold mission to Siberia.

You have to say Steve is right to think that you were asleep, because honestly you weren’t all that much awake. You were just lucid enough to know that he was there, to feel his presence. But yet, your body was so tired from staying up all night waiting for him that you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully drag yourself from sleep.

Instead, you decided that you were content on teetering between sleep and awareness, not rising from your position. Eventually, Steve crawled into bed, giving a small hum of satisfaction as his skin pressed against yours.

He was warm, just like he always was. And he wasted no time before he cuddled up to you, head nestling in the crook of your shoulder. He peppered kisses along your collarbone to which you responded with a sigh, but even with his super hearing, Steve was too tired and too distracted to notice.

He had missed you of course, but what he didn’t tell you over the numerous phone calls was that on this particular mission, he was filled with a different kind of longing for you.

Steve missed you. He missed your laugh. He missed your smile, god he missed your very presence. But the one thing he just could not stop thinking about was your cunt, and how good it had taken him right before he left.

The sex replayed in his mind like a nonstop recording, Steve’s brain taking notes and savoring every single detail. Every kiss, every moan of his name had all been lingering in his mind and he hadn’t been able to make it go away for an entire week. The entire week that he was away, the only thing he thought about was coming back home to you alive, and what would await him once he did get back.

Of course, you guys always had amazing sex when he returned from his missions, but usually he didn’t show up this late. And since you guys were in different time zones, you had been staying up later than usual just so that you wouldn’t miss his calls.

This caused your sleep schedule to become a little messed up and Steve knew he would feel bad if he woke you, especially if it was just to have sex.

He couldn’t do that to you — especially not after seeing how adorable you looked with your mouth slightly parted open, soft pants leaving your lips.

He couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t wake you, but what he could do was assume that you wouldn’t mind if he still had a little fun. So, Steve decided to do something that you had always asked him to do.

At first, when you first proposed the idea of him fucking you in your sleep, he had been a little taken back. Not to mention worried about the consent lingering around it. After all, Steve was extremely old-fashioned and fucking your wife in her sleep wasn’t exactly common during the times he grew up. Sex in general was a very sheltered topic, so it came as a surprise to Steve that you were so open and willing to talk about it.

He had been hesitant before, but now feeling how desperately he wanted you, how bad his cock throbbed and ached for your body, he figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So, leaning his chest against your back, he pulled you as close as he could against him before gently tugging on your leg and throwing it around him. Steve wanted your legs open so that he could pleasure you first before he fucked you. That way when the time came, there would be no question if you could take him or not.

Steve knew he was big, and often times if he didn’t warm you up, it was nearly impossible to fit himself inside of your cunt. You were just so tiny compared to him; but nevertheless, you were always eager to take him anyways.

This time though, you weren’t awake to strain yourself against his cock, so he had to do all the work himself.

Taking the hand that was most available, Steve used the pad of his fingers to trace your body and greet all the curves that he had missed so desperately.

He could feel your warmth as his hands traveled all over, sometimes tracing your stomach, sometimes your breast, and other times dipping dangerously close to your exposed heat.

Steve was in no rush, so he decided to savor everything, even inhaling your scent before his hand finally dipped between your legs.

The first moan that you let out was so sudden, Steve merely thought that you were groaning in your sleep. He didn’t consider that you were half-awake so he didn’t stop, using his long fingers to brush up against your clit and feel between your wet folds.

Even in your sleep, you were eager for him. The thought made Steve smile, loving that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. It made his cock throb to feel your arousal and he wanted more. So, he positioned a single digit at your entrance, and lightly pushed it in.

“Mhmm.”

Even half-asleep, you felt the intrusion, but your body welcomed it as it always welcome Steve. With no resistance, allowing him to push the digit even deeper until it was buried in your cunt.

You let out a quick breath, but by this time, you were sure that Steve thought you were asleep and you didn’t want him to stop if you woke up.

So, you stayed still, lightly biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud. Meanwhile, Steve decided to add another finger and you had to clench your fist to keep yourself from telling him how good it felt.

Slowly, he began to move the two digits in sync, pumping them in and out of your cunt at a delicious pace.

It wasn’t his cock, but Steve’s fingers were still thick enough to fill you up and definitely long enough to hit all the right spots, making your body jerk even in your ‘sleep.’

Steve smiled as he noticed the reaction, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of your face before slightly picking up the pace. He pleasured you just as he would have had you been awake: slowly, so that you could feel everything. It was no secret that Steve liked to take his time with you, and this was no different. He wanted to gently pleasure you and take it slow because you deserved it. And even though he was eager, his cock throbbing painfully against the curve of your ass, he had to be patient and get you ready for him first.

Otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t fit.

Such a delicate little thing you were — and so pretty as Steve observed your sleeping face. You were relaxed, no hint of stress or worries clouding your beautiful face. Dare he say it, you almost looked like you were…enjoying his pleasurefull assault, which only made him sink his fingers deeper, curling them inside of you and hitting that delicious spot over and over again.

It made it extremely difficult to stay still, and you found that part of your body thrashed even though you tried your best to keep still.

Even though you tried, your legs still shook, your core still clenched, and it was a miracle Steve didn’t figure you out when you came, seeing as the moans that escaped your lips should’ve alerted him.

But alas, you were glad that they didn’t as you were craving what was to come next. You could feel Steve shifting behind you, panting slightly and almost painfully as he slowly removed his fingers from your sticky core.

You felt empty, but you knew you weren’t gonna be for long. Steve scooted down and gently opened your legs even wider. He positioned himself right between them, grabbing his cock to line up it with your entrance.

And then, he pushed in.

You couldn’t help yourself this time; nor stop the mewl that left your lips as Steve sheathed himself inside your cunt, stretching you until he bottomed out. He was as deep as you could take him, and you could sort of feel your tummy bulging as your pussy struggled to accommodate him.

It had been a while; a week since Steve had felt you wrapped around him. Entirely too long in both of your opinions, and he almost came right when he entered. But he had to remind himself that he wanted to make this last; he wanted to make this special into make up for the time he was gone.

So, Steve paced himself, slowly snapping his hips back-and-forth while low grunts left his pink lips. Euphoria almost immediately began to cloud his vision as he dragged his cock along your walls, the squeaking bed hiding your moans.

You buried your face until your pillow as Steve fucked you from behind, brain beginning to wake up as well as your body. And honestly, you didn’t even care if he heard you anymore as you began to cry out. You just missed him so much that the feeling of him inside of you was driving you insane. You needed to wake up so that you could fully feel him, so that you could relish in the way he was touching you.

Opening your eyes, you started to rouse just as Steve began to pound against your sweet spot. You moaned again, the feeling making you see stars which clouded your vision. It almost felt like you were being blinded by the pleasure that Steve was providing you.

Your sweet sounds began to mix in with his, and Steve brought his lips down to kiss your neck while he quickened his face.

You could almost imagine the face he was making as his lips attached to your skin; nose scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed as he focused on not just his pleasure, but yours as well.

After so long together, Steve knew the exact ways to work your body. And he knew that kissing your neck was a sure way to rile you up. He knew that bringing a hand down to rub your sensitive clit was enough to make your knees buck; enough to make your hips jerk in pleasure as your body tried to run from the overstimulation.

He knew just how to cloud your senses, and he knew well enough that he had to keep you in place as the intrusion of his cock and the pleasure on the rest of your body sent you into a frenzy.

You cried out, a hand instinctively going behind you to grip Steve’s arm. You needed to ground yourself as you started seeing stars again, flashes of white hot pleasure traveling straight to your core.

Steve knew exactly what he was doing as he fucked you, and you found yourself trembling as your orgasm approached you once again. Again, Steve was going to make you cum, but it wasn’t like you had any objections as the coil in your stomach tightened.

Faster and faster, Steve began to rut into you like he would never have the pleasure of feeling your cunt again. He began to grow desperate, his own release creeping up on him, but not before you came he reminded himself. He was determined to make you come undone once more, and as the last of his strokes hit your G-spot, that’s exactly what happened.

Your body began to unravel from all the pleasure, your lips opening and sweet sounds escaping as you quivered. White hot and blinding, your orgasm took over you. And before you knew it, you were clamping down on Steve’s cock for dear life as you came with a cry.

You squeezed him and God, your pussy had never felt better; you had never sounded sexier as your release washed through you, swiftly prompting his own.

As your chest heaved, and as you began to come down from your arousal, Steve finally allowed himself to let go — stilling inside of you and filled your cunt to the brim with his cum.

He didn’t care at that moment that he forgot to put on a condom. He didn’t care that you weren’t even on birth control. All he cared about was the feeling that rippled through his body, the coils that snapped and caused him to almost fall over in his moment of pleasure.

Steve didn’t care about anything other than the way you wrapped around him, and in that moment it felt like he would never care about anything else.

Nothing else was as important as this: you pressed to his chest as you both came down from your highs, heavy breaths and scattered moans still lingering in the air.

Nothing else felt like it would even come close to you. No mission, brief or assignment.

And as he thought of this, Steve leaned over to survey your face, taking in the glow that seem to surround you. Finally, it seemed like he acknowledged that you were awake as your tired (e/c) eyes met his. Gently, he caressed your face and brought his lips to kiss your head again before cheekily saying,

“Well good morning, sunshine. I hope that was a good enough wake up call.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #captain amelia #captain america x reader #captain america smut

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satoruin · 1 year

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➣ a new year’s kiss

pairing: ayato, albedo, alhaitham, aether x gn!reader

summary: the countdown begins and you unexpectedly have someone asking to be your new years kiss

notes from lee: this one goes out to all my introverts and people that don’t like parties. i don’t either but there’s no new years kiss waiting for anyone sitting in bed at midnight yk + idk what even transpired while i was writing this and idk if it’s ooc since it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything so enjoy? AND wishing for all of you to have an amazing new year! i’m super thankful for all of y’all to be supporting me on this blog and yeah! love you guys immensely 🫶

it’s not normal for you to be at a party new year’s eve but your friend has insisted. saying “new year, new you!” and promptly whisking you away to some party.

you know nobody and the whole party seems to drag on for far too long. the countdown is closing in on zero and most hold their partners close in anticipation for the new year’s kiss tradition.

you know that there probably wasn’t anyone here that would ask to kiss you and you’re much too shy to ask someone yourself. but unknown to you, there’s someone making their way across the room right now, determined to ask you for a kiss.

ayato:

you stick to the wall with a cup in hand as the countdown starts. you expect nothing because that’s how it’s been every other year, but unexpectedly there’s someone cupping your cheek

“do you mind?” he asks and you shake your head no and as the tv and people scream happy new year, the stranger places his lips on yours

it’s a short peck but you enjoy it nonetheless. you look up at the man who had just kissed you to find it’s kamisato ayato

he’s extremely gorgeous and the frequent topic of discussion amongst your friends for his looks and money

you think you’ve maybe had a class or two with him but nothing to ever warrant getting to know him

“thank you for making my new year memorable…” he trails off as a way to ask for your name

“on contrary i should be saying thank you. i’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you or should i say kiss you?” you laugh at your own joke awkwardly and you’re ready for him to leave and go back to his friends at this point

however, he continues to talk to you, “you know, there’s a common saying about sharing a kiss on new years. it’s something along the lines of having a good relationship with the person you kiss.”

he pauses to take note of your reaction before continuing “so i believe that means we will have a good relationship ahead of us, that is if you will go out with me?”

albedo:

you’ve been sitting out on the patio waiting for your friend to be finished because archons knows you were done the moment you got here

parties are not for you. they are overwhelming and teeming with people you don’t know and awkward social situations. you wish you had stayed at home and celebrated by yourself, if at all

it’s cold outside and unfortunately you left your coat inside but it’s too much work to go in and come back out. so you sit with your knees tucked into your chest and wait

that is until someone drapes a coat around your shoulders. “you looked cold. sorry if i’m overstepping your boundaries.”

you turn to say thank you, but the words don’t seem to come out as you can only focus on how pretty the boy in front of you is

“it seems like parties aren’t your thing either. i’m albedo by the way. i’m not fond of making friends at these kind of things but…” he trails off unsure of how to finish his thoughts

“no, no i get it! you never know what types of people attend these things.” you laugh awkwardly before sticking out a hand for him to shake and introducing yourself, “i’m (y/n). and thanks for the jacket but i would feel terrible if you were cold too.”

you shrug off the jacket and fold it over your arm for him to take but he just smiles and pushes it back your way. “i don’t get too cold actually. i just take it so my friends don’t worry and to offer to pretty people.”

you laugh in disbelief but don’t say anything. you put the coat on again, thankful that it is providing some warmth

you look inside as you hear people start to countdown and steal a glance towards albedo

you would ask him the question but you’ve just met him and you know you’re not bold enough to ask even if he had been flirting with you just a moment ago

luckily you don’t have to do anything. albedo reaches out to find your hand, “may i have the honor of being your new year’s kiss?”

normally you would say no, he’s a stranger after all, but even being at a part was not normal for you, so you nod

he leans down to where you sit and puts his face close to yours waiting until the countdown reaches zero. and when it does, his warm lips meet yours and you can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses you

alhaitham:

you’re in the kitchen when he approaches you. he looks over at something before saying anything and you’re almost tempted to just leave

“hi. i’ll get straight to the point. i made a bet with my annoying roommate that involves kissing you at midnight. i’m getting $500, a night of peace, and a bottle of wine. if you agree, you get half. if not no worries, i’ll find another way to kick him out.”

you almost want to laugh at the comical situation you’re in. there’s no way this is real, a good looking guy offering to pay to kiss you? “is he that bad? and i don’t know you, what makes you think i would agree?”

he raises his eyebrows and smirks, “i’m alhaitham. i attend the sumeru academia and am double majoring in ancient history and linguistics. i like to read and i work at the library on campus. that should be sufficient, no?”

he ends his little summary of himself and looks back once again and this time you follow his gaze. he’s looking at the tv to see how much time is left in the countdown.

you only shake your head at him, with a slight smile. what harm was there in letting an attractive guy kiss you and then pay you for it?

“i expect my pay by the end of the week.” you tell him and his eyes seem to light up if only slightly at your agreement

when the countdown reaches zero he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours. his lips are warm and pull away quicker than you would like.

you can definitely hear a mortified “NO” over the shouts of everyone else and alhaitham only laughs instead of searching for the voice

he takes out his phone and hands it to you so you can give him your number and you do the same. “$250 and a date, yeah?”

you tilt your head in confusion, a date? he said nothing about that earlier

he smirks once again and explains, “i did say half of my earnings and half a bottle of wine shouldn’t be enjoyed alone.”

aether:

he’s knelt on the floor when you almost step on him, either knocked down or looking for something, but you try not to question it

“oh my archons, i’m so sorry! i didn’t notice you, um is there anything i can help you with.” you extend a hand out for him to grab and help pull him up and he takes it

“sorry, i’m looking for my sister. i didn’t notice where she went and was just a bit worried about her.” he reaches his hand back to scratch at the back of his head.

he introduces himself and then describes what she looks like and as you turn to help him look he grabs your wrist and turns you back around

“i’m sorry, that was a lie. she’s standing with the rest of my friends who told me i need to come over here and talk to you. they’re sick of listening to me talk about how pretty you are.” he sighs and is flushed red at the confession and moves his gaze to the floor

your eyes widen and you don’t even know what to say. “seriously? good thing i think you’re pretty cute too.” you smile and he picks up his head

he looks anywhere but you and is still flushed. “would you mind if i kissed you at midnight then?”

you just shake your head at the shy boy, but you still agree. when the countdown reaches zero his kisses you and you can hear his friends chant his name and cheering him on

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munson-blurbs · 4 months

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Can I request something with Eddie x reader in a long term relationship. They didn’t meet until their mid to late 20s. maybe they are out to dinner one time with his old highschool buddies and she hears them joke about how eddie always wanted to fuck a cheer leader. she gets the bright idea to buy a cheer leader out fit with a tiny skirt and pom poms and wears it for him one day

Oh, now this is what I'm talking about. Written with the gorgeous queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v, Reader wears a cheerleading uniform, mention of Eddie's crush on Chrissy

WC: 1.8k

Divider credit to @saradika

It’s not the first time you’ve met any of the guys from your boyfriend’s old Hellfire gang. It is the first time that you’ve been around them as a group, though. They’re much louder in a pack—not necessarily trying to shout, just be heard over the guy who is telling a story next to them.

The guys are funny though and you’re enjoying getting a glimpse of what High School Eddie was like from those who got to experience it first hand. It wasn’t terribly long ago that they were all in high school together; you’re all only in your twenties. But Eddie seems to groan every time there’s a reminder that the youngest guys in the group can legally drink now.

“So tell me more about this hellion during his younger years,” you say with a laugh, draping an arm over his denim-clad shoulders. “Because he claims to have been a total badass, but he’s such a teddy bear.” To emphasize your point, you smack a wet kiss to his cheek.

Eddie blushes but doesn’t wipe it off; instead, he tilts your chin till you’re facing him and kisses you until the group throws wadded-up paper napkins at you both.

“This guy was definitely not a teddy bear,” Lucas says. “I asked him to postpone one Hellfire meeting so I could play in the championship basketball game, and he put me on probation!”

You look at Eddie, slack-jawed. “Eds!” you chastise him teasingly.

“It was the last campaign of the year!” Eddie rebuts. “Actions have consequences, Sinclair.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink, using his free hand to flip off his friend.

Dustin cackles at the exchange. “Yeah, he was pretty much an asshole to everyone.” His voice is mischievous as he waggles his eyebrows and adds, “except Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Ooh,” you mimic Dustin’s playful tone. “And who is Chrissy Cunningham?”

“Head cheerleader, cute and blonde, super sweet to, like, everybody,” Mike pipes up.

Eddie gets flustered, not because Chrissy was brought up, but he thinks hearing about his crush on her might upset or annoy you. He sputters over his words, which just riles him up even more.

“I don’t think we need to, uh, talk about that,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

“Why? What happened?” you ask with a frown. It was no secret between you and Eddie that neither of you were popular in high school and had crushes that went unrequited. But Eddie never told you about anything particularly bad happening between him and a cheerleader.

“What?” Eddie asks before realizing what you mean. “Oh, no! Nothing happened. We spoke maybe a handful of times ever. I just didn’t think this would be something you would want to hear about…”

Eddie brow pinches in worry but you just laugh and wave a dismissive hand.

“Eddie, come on. Who wouldn’t have a crush on the sweet, pretty cheerleader? I mean, I had a thing for my school’s star basketball player back in the day. You know that.”

Lucas laughs. “You definitely would’ve hated the star basketball player at our school.”

“Kid was a total douche,” Jeff adds. “Made these obnoxious, over-the-top speeches that had everybody rolling their eyes.”

“So, like Eddie, but athletic,” Gareth chimes in, putting his hands up in surrender when Eddie shoots him a look and then breaks into a grin.

The waiter brings out a chocolate cake, loudly singing Happy Birthday to Eddie, which promptly puts a stop to their bickering and taunting. The guys lock in on the dessert, serving Eddie the first slice before turning into barbarians over the second.

You finally manage to snag a slice among the chaos, but your mind is elsewhere. If Eddie was as into cheerleaders like his friends claim, you might be able to finagle one last birthday surprise.

A week passes from the dinner-turned-impromptu-Hellfire-meeting. Eddie saunters through the door, tossing his keys on the counter.

“Babe? You home?” His hair is kept in a low bun; it’s easier to work on cars with it out of his face.

“In the bedroom!” you call back from behind a half-closed door.

Eddie kicks his boots off in the general direction of the welcome mat. “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asks as he walks down the hallway towards your room. “Mine was pretty good. I just—holy shit.” He comes to a halt in the doorway, jaw dropping open as he stares at you.

You lounge on the bed waiting for him, a green and white cheerleading uniform on. There wasn’t one with some yellow on it as well like Hawkins High’s had when you’d gone looking, but you didn’t think your boyfriend would mind.

He stands frozen and it makes you let out a small giggle before trying to regain the seductive air you’d been going for.

“Wh…What’s all this?” he manages, caught completely off-guard by your outfit of choice.

“Just your own personal cheerleader,” you say nonchalantly, crooking your finger and beckoning him over. “Wanna see my pom-poms?”

His grin nearly splits his face in two. “Yeah—wait, do you mean, like, actual ones, or…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Ah, fuck it.” He grabs you and pulls you onto his lap.

“So, do I get to see a cheer?” he asks with a smirk. “A little, ‘two-four-six-eight, who do we appreciate?’”

You kiss his neck and murmur, “kinda figured my mouth would be busy somewhere else.” Your lips down the pale expanse of bis torso and you unbuckle his belt.

Eddie groans and leans back against the headboard, eagerly watching you. He lifts his hips enough so you can slide his pants and boxers all the way off and toss them aside.

You make sure to keep your gaze locked on his as you start to stroke him, using his pre-cum to lubricate your palm. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

He inhales sharply, trying to remain focused. “Need you to suck me off.”

You get on your knees in front of him so he can see down your uniform top, and he twitches against your lips. Flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft, you lick up to the head and wrap your lips around the tip before slowly taking him into your warm, wet mouth.

“Fuuuuuck,” Eddie breathes out, throwing his head back and exposing his Adam’s apple. “Thassit, just like that.”

The tang of pre-cum is salty on your tongue, and you lap it up gratefully. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as you pull him towards you, your nose grazing his pubic hair.

“So good, goddamn, honey,” he mumbles, more gibberish than logic, “take me so well. Givin’ me the best fuckin’ head of my life.”

You’re more than happy to continue this, cheeks hollowed and tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, eagerly anticipating his cum down your throat.

Eddie has other plans.

He begrudgingly steps back, his throbbing cock thwacking against his stomach. If he pulls out of a blowjob, it usually means—

“Bend over, princess.”

You do as he says, palms pressed into the mattress. He quickly flips up your skirt, exposing your bare ass.

Eddie laughs triumphantly. “Oh, fuck yes.” He taps the head of his length against it before pushing down on your back, giving him a better view of your pussy. “Mine,” he growls in your ear.

The moan that tumbles out of your lips from his words only increases tenfold when he pushes inside of you. It makes Eddie smirk in satisfaction as his hands grip your hips beneath the pleats of the skirt. His eyes slip closed as he loses himself in the feeling of you around his cock.

You whine as Eddie bottoms out, fingers grasping at the blanket below you. “God, Eddie, yes.”

Eddie’s thrusts gain momentum and he pulls your hips back against him for every one, never missing a beat. “Shit, you’re so fucking good for me. Your pussy’s so goddamn tight, fuck.”

“Mhm, uh-huh.” The drag of his cock against your walls leaves you speechless, only able to whine, no coherent thoughts in your head.

“My cheerleader feels good, huh? Aw, baby,” he coos, “so good you can’t even talk, yeah?”

Even if you had the capability to answer, you wouldn’t have time before Eddie pulls out of you for the second time today and flips you onto your back. Your legs fall open for him immediately in this new position and he wastes no time pushing back into you.

He leans over your body, slipping his hands up the top half of your uniform. “Most beautiful cheerleader I ever fuckin’ saw,” he purrs as his hands grope your chest.

Your legs wrap around his body, only pulling him deeper inside of you. “So good,” you slur, eyes half-lidded. You feel your orgasm crash over you, waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

Eddie’s hands slip out of your top and run down your arms until he laces his fingers with yours. He lifts your hands over your head, keeping a tight grip on you as his hips pick up the pace. Now that you came, he can take what he needs.

“So tight,” he mumbles, breathing heavily. You can tell that he’s close. “Gonna cum all over this pretty little uniform of yours, ‘kay?”

You can only nod, and he leans in and kisses you one last time before pulling out and painting you in his release. Sticky warmth coats the exposed strip of flesh between the top and skirt, some of it staining the uniform’s fabric. He moans out your name as he jerks the last of his spend out of his cock.

“Holy shit,” he exhales, drinking in the sight of you in your cheerleader outfit and covered in his cum. His sexy cheerleader wearing his cum. The thought has him almost up for another round already.

He leans over to the nightstand and reaches for a tissue to clean you up, but you wave him off. Your hand catches his wrist and you softly run your fingertips up to his elbow.

“Leave it,” you tell him with a smirk. “I want it to stain.” You’ll wake up in the morning to it dried on the uniform, a reminder of tonight.

“Goddamn, baby.” Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle and flops down next to you, completely exhausted. “I was not expecting this, but I’m certainly not complaining.”

“Well,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice. You push up onto one elbow, and gaze at him knowingly. His hair is a mess, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. He looks wrecked, and it’s a beautiful sight. “You’d better drink some Gatorade, babe. Because this is only halftime.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x reader #smut

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bloompompom · 5 months

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A Little Joy

✽ summary: your pregnancy comes as a surprise, but the even bigger surprise comes when you tell your husband on christmas, twelve days later. ✽ content: ~6.4k word count. husband!eren jaeger x fem!reader. modern au, established relationship, reader celebrates christmas, mentions of jean x pieck, light angst, some fertility struggles, pregnancy, morning sickness/emetophobia warning, super soft domestic fluff, smut with big feelings, showering together, slight overstimulation, alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content. reader discretion advised. 18+

You found out you were pregnant on a Friday afternoon. You were home alone after finally drumming up the courage to drive to the convenience store. You grabbed a bottle of ginger ale, some crackers, then paced down the personal care aisle at least four times, as any normal, rational person would.

You weren’t exactly trying to get pregnant, but you certainly weren’t preventing it either. Or if you were, you and Eren were doing a shit job at it, if it wasn’t obvious enough already. It was an unspoken agreement between you—‘if it happens, it happens.’ And if it didn’t happen, well, it didn’t matter because you weren’t really trying; no reason to get your hopes up.

When you woke up before sunrise on Thursday morning, it wasn’t because you felt particularly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You were whatever the opposite was—bleary-eyed and droopy-tailed, like one of those dogs in those terribly sad commercials. You lay in bed on your back, hands folded over your stomach, right under your ribs, and told yourself that you didn’t have to vomit. You don’t have to throw up, you definitely don’t have to—

Then you launched out of bed, skittered to the bathroom, and did exactly that. You flushed the toilet, brushed your teeth, and wrote it off as nothing more than a fluke.

When Friday morning rolled around and the process repeated itself, it was no longer a mere fluke. Only then did the thought cross your mind, right as you finished dry heaving into the toilet bowl: it’s happened. Finally.

You stayed quiet about it, slipping back into bed like you had never left. Not getting your hopes up, remember?

You chugged the ginger ale on the drive home, which didn’t help your nausea but ensured you had to pee. You tore open the cardboard box, skimmed over the instructions—you knew the drill, you’ve had scares before—and you followed every step. When the first test came back positive, you had more water, waited it out, then took another. Again, two pink lines, bold pink lines stared back at you. Then you grabbed the second box you purchased, a digital test, and prepared to take that one, too. The conclusion was the same; the third time was the charm for you to finally believe you were pregnant.

You did some quick mental math. If it was Friday, then Christmas Day was twelve days away. Eleven sleeps ‘til Christmas, you thought, like a kid giddily awaiting Santa’s arrival. Could you hold out until Christmas morning? Could you keep quite possibly the biggest secret of all time from your husband for twelve whole days?

It’d be the best present, wouldn’t it? Better than anything money could buy—better than anything you had already bought and wrapped for him. Yes, it was true you weren’t trying to get pregnant, but maybe you had been asking yourself, ‘Is this the month my period would come late?’ only for it to arrive perfectly on time. Again. Maybe you were gushing over cute babies more often and staring at little families at the grocery store for too long—or too longingly. You’d stopped worrying about birth control around a year ago, and he’d stopped bothering to pull out not long after that. So maybe there was a part of you—of both of you, because you could see it on Eren’s face, too—that wondered when, if ever, it would be your turn.

That was why you ultimately decided to keep it a secret. You had to. You wanted to gift him the reason to lose that wistful face he got whenever you’d point out another teensy pair of stupidly adorable baby shoes. The face you would catch every now and again, like that time you helped clean out his parents’ attic.

It was warm at first, nothing but smiles and feel-good memories as the two of you rifled through box after box, deciding what you should take home and what should get donated. Old family photos, forgotten action figures. All the picture books his five-year-old self cherished.

Eren took a few of his favorites home with him, tucked under his arm as you said goodbye to his mother. She was quick to point them out, smiling as she made sure he had Corduroy with him, leaning into you to explain that it used to be his favorite. He said he couldn’t find it, that book you didn’t even know he was searching for.

No, it wasn’t the missing book that had him bothered. You had almost made it out of the house with your fuzzy feelings still alive and intact, his hand almost on the doorknob when she made the comment every parent seemed to love:

‘Does this mean I can expect my first grandchild soon?’

‘We’ll see.’ ‘Who knows?’ ‘Not yet.’ You couldn’t remember what Eren told her, but what you did remember was the look on his face. On that car ride home, you still didn’t talk about it. You didn’t talk about it because you weren’t trying to get pregnant. And if you weren’t trying, then you had no hope to lose in the first place.

Now, you could only imagine the new look on his face—probably an ear-to-ear smile in excitement for your future, your family, and for the longest nine months of your lives as you waited to meet your little one.

He would be so surprised, too. He would never expect you to be able to keep a secret with your big mouth, as he liked to say. It was perfect.

The only thing left to do now was figure out how to present it to him, because twelve-day-old pee sticks sitting lonely in a box would be a pretty sorry sight.

Christmas was ten days away when you realized this was harder than you thought it would be. Not only the secret keeping but finding a creative way to surprise Eren. You had scrolled through countless forums, scoured through every cheesy dad-to-be gift that existed, but nothing felt right.

You had never considered how you would give the announcement before, and never did you think to make a big show of it. You always thought it would be as simple as outrightly saying the words—or even less than that, just running out of the bathroom with the positive test in hand. And you certainly never imagined you would keep it to yourself for longer than a few hours, let alone twelve days.

You decided to call your best friend for ideas. You debated if it was fair to tell her before the father of your child, but you wouldn’t do it without good reason, and this was as good a reason as ever. And technically speaking, you had known her longer, since high school. You were sure that buried somewhere in your friendship pacts was a promise to tell each other first. That was your justification.

You tried to sneak beneath her best friend radar with a coy, “If you were going to reveal a huge secret to Jean on Christmas, how would you go about it?” But who were you kidding? She immediately saw through you.

“Oh my god. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

You fell to your bed with a flop. Not in defeat but in that dreamy, cloud-nine way. Finally, someone knew. You could hear your smile spilling into your voice even as you warned her, “Please don’t tell Jean.”

Jean was her husband. More than that, he was one of Eren’s good friends. The two of you actually met each other through the happy couple, way back when. Best friends dating (and now married to) best friends. It went without saying that if Jean found out, then you might as well have told Eren yourself.

“I won’t, I won’t,” she assured. But she didn’t offer any more than her word because she, too, was clueless on pregnancy announcements.

Eight days until Christmas. You didn’t want to jinx it, but so far, your only symptom had been waves of nausea. You supposed you felt a bit sleepier than normal, only if you really thought about it.

You believed you had done a good job at pretending nothing was off, but your husband must know you better than that. Either that, or you were just that horrible of an actor.

That morning, you met Eren in the kitchen, greeting him with a big yawn—yeah, definitely more tired than usual. Pot in hand, he offered you some coffee, but the fresh-brewed scent you once loved now made your stomach churn.

You swallowed hard, said a short, “No, thank you,” and opted for toast, just toast, instead.

He gave you this skeptical look. Something must be wrong if you weren’t in the mood for coffee. You were half-tempted to drink it anyway, but then he approached you, slipping his hand around the nape of your neck. He drew you into him, placing a prolonged peck on your forehead like he always did when you were sick—his preferred way to check your temperature. You imagined he’d do the same with your child, too.

You didn’t feel feverish to him. He tossed you one of his usual quips—“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”—but after you stammered something about dinner not sitting well, he brushed it off just as thoughtlessly as you had at first.

Crisis averted, for now.

Three days out, and you had started to think you might burst. The excitement that stirred in you had only intensified, your nausea now a fifty-fifty split of morning sickness and anticipation. It was to an embarrassing degree, too, like a child let in on a secret, walking around with puffed cheeks as if they’d erupt at any moment.

Not really, but that was what it felt like, only because you had finally thought up the perfect way to tell him.

Since that afternoon spent cleaning the attic was fresh on your mind, you thought to find those childhood books of his. You went searching in a few closets but discovered them sitting lonely in the corner of your spare room—storage room. It was a glorified closet by now, its only purpose was to hide forgotten items and eye sores. Everything, the books included, had collected dust. You’d have to get to cleaning and organizing it in the coming months.

You picked up one of the books, blew the dust off, smearing away the rest with your hand, and flipped through the pages. It was a walk down memory lane as you poked through a couple more books, the ones you remembered from your childhood. Then you thought of Eren—little Eren. Of footie pajamas and cheeks smushed in his hands, leaned into his mother with interest. Not exactly curled up in bed; it was more likely he was rolling around like the fussy thing he supposedly was.

You thought of him, years from now, sat on the edge of the bed—you could already imagine where you’d have it. Your toddler curled up beneath the blankets as Eren read to them. Or, if they would turn out anything like him, they’d be crawling atop him as he could only try to read. You couldn’t wait to learn which they’d be, who they’d be, and all the little joys of parenthood. It’ll look good on him.

That was when it came to you, your light bulb moment. The missing book: Corduroy. It was something special enough, specific enough, that only he’d know the meaning, because he was a sap like that. That was how you’d tell him. Why hadn’t you thought of it sooner?

Considering it was a long-time beloved book, it would be as easy as waltzing to the children’s section of any old bookstore. It would probably be front and center, too.

So that was what you did, and it only took thirty minutes roundtrip. You wrapped it with what leftover paper you could spare, stuck a pretty gold bow on top, and placed it underneath the Christmas tree with the other gifts you’d bought him, now paling in comparison.

Eren was packing the last of the gifts into the car when you snatched one, the important one, from what remained of the pile. You thought you were sly enough, that you had waited until his back was turned, but he caught you as you went to hoard it away.

He stopped, arms full of tinselly boxes, stacked high enough that he kept them steady with his chin rested atop, and curiously asked, “Not bringing that one?”

Over the years, it became a tradition to spend the day at his parents’ house, and somewhere between your late breakfast and four o’clock dinner, you’d open presents together, save the few and not-so-far-between indecent ones his extended family didn’t need to see. Which would explain the knowing eyes he was giving you now; why he didn’t question your quick, ‘It’s for later,’ before you left to hide it in your bedroom closet.

The morning was dipped in molasses. Every hour dribbled on by, every minute tacky and stuck to the next, until you were wading around in the liminal afternoon hours. You weren’t alone in the feeling, though. For as much as you suppressed your restlessness—laughing on cue though your mind might as well have been on another planet, declining a mimosa for the third time and still sounding just as polite as the first—Eren wore his plainly; sat on the edge of his seat but not in the I can’t wait to get the hell away from my family sort of way you would expect.

The impatience was there, yes, but not in the dreadful sense of the word; it was more sanguine than that. An anticipation to return home and settle in for the night, or for the gift awaiting him.

Or, more simply put, an impatience for you. Just you. Perceptible in his touch alone, beneath his touch, when he’d sneak up from behind and pull you into a hug. His hold was desirous—not sensual and needy but innocent, like some innate urge to keep you close. Every kiss pressed into your temple was tinged with benevolence. His palms, weighty with warm devotion, melted you as they curved over your hips and around your stomach.

You could blame it on the holiday spirit, how it tended to coax out such gooey, lovesome feelings. Mix that with the glass of wine he had and it would make perfect sense as to why your love language is physical touch husband was lovey dovey with you. But he had that glass well over an hour ago, and you couldn’t help but wonder if somewhere deep inside, like in his subconscious or id or whatever it was, he knew. Whether he was aware of it or not, some part of him had to know. It radiated from his hands, secure and protective as they always found their way back to you, resting on your thigh beneath the dining table or against the dip in your back as he slid past you in the kitchen. He couldn’t get enough—couldn’t have you close enough.

You assumed that to be the reason you left shortly after dinner, ‘regretfully’ having to skip out on board games tonight, as Eren put it, his hand snuggly at your back with his thumb making small circles you felt through your sweater.

It was dark when you stepped outside, enough that you would have thought it was midnight if you didn’t know better. It had started snowing, with chunky flakes that pitter-pattered against the ground instead of swirling through the air. It stuck, though, and by the time you arrived home, there was a powdered sugar coating across the lawn, shimmering in the streetlight.

You rambled on about your forgotten leftovers as you slipped from your boots. Eren’s hands came to your shoulders, helping you out of your coat sleeves. He hung it in the closet, listening to you recall the pan you had left behind, too. And while you ruffled his hair, picking the fat snowflakes off the top of his head, he assured you he’d grab the pan the next time he visited.

He held you in his arms, your rightful spot for the day, and felt you shiver between his hands.

“Cold?” Eren asked.

You nodded but immediately wished you could retract it. A grin spanned his face as he took it as the go-ahead to slip his hands beneath your sweater, his fingers like icicles against your back. You only responded with a sharp yelp, snatching his wrists and breaking free from his grasp.

After he stopped laughing, Eren made it up to you by running a hot shower, one you could share together. With your clothes reduced to a puddle on the bathroom tile, your December-frozen skin tingled beneath the stream of water. Your neck curled at the sensation, how it traveled to your toes the same way the steaming water trickled down the curve in your back. You rolled your shoulders and unwound from the day, watching as it washed down the drain.

All day, you only focused on what was to come, your mind racing and reeling until the moment you could be alone together—this moment. About as private as it gets. As ephemeral as it would take for the water to run cold. Short-lived and spurred by a collective sigh.

You always enjoyed showering together. Not shower sex, just showering. Not its most benign definition, but more innocent than the innuendo it carried. Though you would argue it was just as intimate, perhaps more. For what was more visceral than confessing you couldn’t stand to be apart, even for the minutes the mundane task would take, so why not do it together?

After all, it was easier that way, wasn’t it? More efficient? Not so much. But you didn’t crave efficiency, you craved him, his embrace, the feeling of skin on slippery skin.

The same hands that smeared away droplets from your face traversed down the expanse of Eren’s back, every divot and every groove of it. You slid them around his torso, his arms raised as he lathered shampoo into his hair. You flattened your palms to his chest, held him close enough that your cheek was smushed against his back.

Your eyes crinkled shut before soap dared to drip into your eye. You spat the acrid taste of it from your mouth, only for a chorus of laughter to follow, his inciting your own. Your dilemma worsened. Enough for him to help you rinse off—for you to be sure he tasted it on your tongue as you swapped kisses back and forth, stolen between splatters.

You’d been clean for some time now, the water was lukewarm, but you remained, content with his hands rubbing your shoulders, his lips intermittently seeking yours, as dutiful as they were doting, leaving you moaning ever so frailly into his mouth; little whiffs of respite as he kneaded out the tight muscles. Your head tipped to the side with this sleepy bend just for him to catch your chin and bring you back to him, your head foggier than the humid bathroom.

You were only towel-dried when Eren reminded you of the gift, probably thinking you’d forgotten about it.

Of course, you hadn’t.

You found him in the bedroom, him wearing only a pair of plaid pajama pants, his chest slightly sheened from the shower, and you in just a fluffy towel, pinned beneath your arm. You asked him to wait while you put on a set of pajamas and fetched the gift. But before that, you lit the candle at your bedside, just to really set the mood.

“No peeking!” you called out before disappearing into the closet.

You were giddy to know that, like you, this had been on his mind all day—for different reasons, but that only made the surprise better.

You returned to find him sitting on your bed with his eyes on you, undeniably stealing a peek.

“I said no peeking!” You hid the present behind your back.

“It’s wrapped!” He didn’t take your scold seriously until you pulled a face. Then he closed his eyes. “I already saw it earlier, remember?”

You ignored it, pleasedly telling him, “Hold out your hands.”

He did, and you set the gift into them, prompting him to take a look.

Eren inspected it briefly, then ripped the gilded paper at the corner. The cover poked through, not enough for him to recognize it but enough to fit a finger beneath and widen the tear.

Once the paper was crumpled on the floor, he chuckled lightly. He angled it around in his hand, looking over the cover that was glossier, newer, than the one he remembered.

It was a sweet gift. He appreciated the thought that went into it. How you learned it was missing and clung onto that tiny detail for months for this moment—a trait he loved about you.

“It’s perfect,” he started to say. “It’ll complete the collection for—”

Like it was recorded in slow motion, you watched very second the realization took him by the shoulders and shook him. There was a drop in his expression as he cautiously asked, “Wait. Does this mean…”

Where he left off, you picked up, nodding eagerly as you said, “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

You didn’t know what happened first, whether you had ended your sentence or if your squeal had cut it short as Eren scooped you into his arms. Your feet left the ground as he spun you around in the biggest bear hug you could imagine, this effervescent feeling bubbling from your stomach and escaping you in a fit of giggles.

He plopped back onto the bed and took you down with him, the mattress bobbing beneath your shared weight. You were still in his arms, legs draped over his lap, as he scattered kisses across your face, wherever he could. Even missing a few, with some at your neck and ear.

You took his face between your hands and kissed him straight on the lips, quick. His smile smushed his cheeks in your hands as he asked, “This is for real?” You nodded again, kissed him again. “This is happening?”

“We’re gonna be parents,” you affirmed, letting the reality of it finally sink in.

You traded kisses. Ones that had your fingers knotting in his shirt and his hand venturing to back of your head, keeping each kiss longer than the last until you were making out. You didn’t know when that happened. Somewhere along the way, between roaming hands and sweeping tongues, your touches turned fervorous. You were both so happy and kissing and oblivious to everything but how deeply you needed each other, like it might actually ache if you were to separate.

And while he couldn’t go another second without having you, evident in the way his lips sought out your weak spot on your neck, he laid you on the bed more thoughtfully than he ever had before. The old mattress didn’t trill beneath you; you weren’t splayed against the bed, toppled over, and taken right then but coddled and caressed. You found it endearing, how careful he was, as if right before his eyes, you had suddenly become something that he could easily break. So endearing that you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle as your head sank back into the pillows.

Eren propped himself above you, face-to-face, both of you smiley. You were enveloped by him wholly, with his palms planted at either of your sides. You tucked his hair behind his ears to get a better look at his face, still a bit giggly.

“You know how this works, right?” you chaffed, not above some good-natured teasing. “I’m already pregnant.”

He shushed you, closing the gap between you until his grin was pressed against your own. Until you not only heard his laughter but felt it reverberate against yours and tasted their unity on your tongue.

His lips veered to the corner of your mouth. He kissed you there, trailing more down the side of your face. His nose nestled behind your ear, tickling you as he kissed beneath your jawbone, right where you felt the thud-thudding of your pulse against his lips.

His hand caressed the length of your body, smoothing down your hip and grasping the fat of it before sneaking beneath your tank top on his way back up. It tore a faint groan from you, from the very back of your throat.

Those light, airy kisses began to linger. Not lips merely pressed to your skin like a stamp but soft slips of his mouth, his tongue, until he reached the notch between your collarbones.

He tugged the neckline of your top down, exposing your tits and taking the peak of one into his mouth, all in a single, easy motion. He didn’t neglect the other; his hand was gentle as he massaged and explored the swell of your breast, pinching your nipple between his middle and index fingers and rolling until it was perked for him. His tongue, stroking and flicking and licking, had your other in the same state.

It left you breathless, your mouth dumbly agape, parted by gasps. Your vision had gone glossy to everything but Eren, your senses dulled to anything that wasn’t his mouth ravening your tits, his tongue licking the valley separating them, his lips pursed and sucking your nipples until they glistened with his spit.

You perched high on your elbows. Your tanktop pooled at your midriff, its loose straps dangling around your biceps, pathetic and practically begging Eren to strip you of it. And when he did, it looked just as useless on the other side of the bed as it did on you.

You slumped back into the mattress only for your hips to go next, elevated and encouraging his fingers, hooked around both your silken sleep shorts and underwear, to take them off, too. You delighted in it, how your bare body melded with the blanket. You brushed a hand along it, felt your skin glide against it. It was downy and fluffy and tickling you, everywhere.

He wrestled out of the pajamas he’d just put on and sat back on his calves. The sinewy muscles of his chest went taut, his arms raised as he fingered through his hair. He collected it in his fist, then tied it off at the back of his head, getting it out of his way. It was messy; he was unfocused, more attuned to you, his wife, happy and giggly and naked below him. His eyes trailed from the crown of your head to between the legs he split and wedged himself between.

“Beautiful,” he said, not with a lilt but spoken like fact—not to you or him, but like he wanted the cosmos to know it. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

He snaked a hand under your back, lifting you as he leaned in to meet you halfway. You felt him stiffly pressed against your leg first, then his mouth at your chest. He peppered your sternum with kisses. Between them, he told you, “You’re gonna be the hottest mom.”

He laughed first, anticipating your reaction—more once it actually happened, the cute gasp you gave with his name on your inhale. His breath tickled over your delicate skin, and you playfully tried to pry yourself from him. He only held you closer, pulling more giggles from you as he kissed and kissed his way down until his lighthearted lips were laden with hunger, his tongue laving down to your navel in reverence. Then lower on your stomach. He left a few extra kisses there.

Before Eren went any lower, he freed himself from his boxers.

His hands took hold of your inner thighs, sculpted the plush of them around his fingers. He pushed back on them and settled in the space he made between. He brought his thumb to you, pressed it against your clit, and that was all it took. No flicking, no rubbing, it was that alone that had your lower back tightening, the arch of it lifting from the bed.

He hummed a short laugh, satisfied with his work. He was closer to you now. So close that you felt his lips graze your entrance, his hot breath surging through your body as if it could quell every one of your chills, as if he wasn’t the cause of them.

Your hand flung to the pillow, twisting the pillowcase between your fingers in frissons of anticipation, gripping harder when you felt the smooth lick he gave the crease where your leg met your body. He kissed you there, too. He kissed you everywhere he could manage, again and again, except for the spot you wanted—needed him most.

All the while, you could only stare down at him, big-eyed, with kiss-swollen lips sucked between your teeth. You tried to stay still for him, but your hips were unruly. They helplessly wiggled, enjoying his attention but desperate for more of it.

His mouth finally closed over your heat, making your knees buckle and collapse to the bed. Your inhale was sibilant, shaky but the sweetest sound, like a choppy thank you until your voice cut out.

Eren had you languidly, with his face lying comfortably against your thigh. He licked you like he found just as much indulgence in it as you. He lazily spread you with two fingers, even taking a full second to admire you, pretty and puffy and pleading with him—only a second though. That was all he could last before his mouth practically watered for you, raring to taste you again.

Exposed, like this, every swipe of his tongue was like he was licking electricity up your spine, every bolt stronger than the last. Your body flexed as you teetered the line between too much and don’t you dare stop. Somewhere between shying away in reflex and hoping he’d yank you back down to his mouth.

And he would. With arms locked around your thighs, he lifted his head and angled it perfectly, granting him the opportunity to dart his tongue inside you, fucking you with it when he wasn’t encircling your clit.

There was a ravenous side to his tenderness; adoration hidden behind the hunger. The two contrasted only to come together, meeting in the center and knotting themselves tight, tighter. Until it—until you—snapped. You came with a stretch of your back, with white-hot stars flashing behind your eyelids.

Eren’s thumb drew little circles against your thigh soothingly, yet his mouth didn’t leave you, his tongue still slotted inside your heat. He groaned, besotted by the taste of you coming on his tongue, how he could feel every flutter of your pussy on your comedown. He greedily wanted more of you, all of you, and all to himself.

You didn’t know how long you’d been there, just like that. It was easy to lose your sense of time, if you even had it in the first place, what with the way the bedroom hadn’t stopped swimming around you. The bedroom curtains were drawn over the windows, thick enough to keep out the streetlights. The only source of light came from the quick flicker of the candle, its glow rippling across the wall.

Your legs hung limply over his shoulders now. One of your hands had buried itself in his hair while he held the other, your fingers intertwined. His tongue swirled around your clit, as ardent now as it was for your first orgasm.

Eren knew your body by now. He knew it well enough to understand what a squeeze of your hand meant, how you’d pet through his hair reassuringly—a silent ‘keep doing that’ when you didn’t have the breath to speak it aloud. And he’d keep doing that until he knew you had finished.

He’d brought you to three moony orgasms—the drawn-out kind, like you had wandered into a dream—and he was actively working on your fourth.

It was comparable to the slow build of a roller coaster: that foreboding tick tick tick pace, the gentle pressure of his flattened tongue, licking you with broad stripes until you were at your peak. You’d hang there for a second, abloom and upcaught in the delicious current that was just shy of becoming entirely undone. You’d careen the tippy top and wonder when you’d finally plummet.

You would only come once he decided, and after deciding you had been patiently buzzing long enough, he started to lick you faster.

You could barely tell him you were coming because it ripped through you then, sparking low in your pelvis. Your tiny chants of ‘fuck’ melted into one long, sheet-gripping moan as the feeling shot higher, like it was caught in your throat.

Right then, as you were blissfully crashing for him, Eren pushed himself to his hands and took his rightful place on top of you. He replaced his tongue with his cock, pushing inside you to the hilt with an effortless thrust.

Your bodies came together and stayed just like that as the feeling racked through you, both of you, like you shared an electrical current. It lasted a century but only existed for a wink, a whole-body tremble as you suddenly, finally, felt full. Every throb of your orgasm was a tantalizing threat, forcing him to hesitate lest he risked finishing before he’d even started. You wore his expression, and his yours: a subtle drop of the jaw in relief, the very corners of the mouth curled in ecstasy.

Then he began to steadily move his hips, firmly but not fiercely fucking you through your orgasm.

You were sensitive. Every fiber of you was frayed at the edge and rekindled. The luxurious flame erupted higher in your stomach, burning from the crests of your cheeks to your toes, then back up again. The snapping of his hips was punctuated by you bouncing against him, another gasping moan tumbling past your lips. You smothered them, with arms tossed around his neck and your lips devouring his. They became nothing but wet whimpering sounds for him to swallow.

Against your mouth, he mumbled, “You make the prettiest sounds when you come,” and you tasted every syllable.

You felt everything. You flipped through emotions like one flipped through a book or shuffled a deck of cards, one right after the other.

You felt fizzy, the same lightness that comes with a huff of helium, like you could drift away. You felt his leg against yours, how it made every hair on your body stand on end.

You felt safe, bound and anchored by his weight pinning you into the mattress; your nose bumping against his, your fingers tangled in his hair.

You had plunged into one another. Found the deepest parts of each other and weaved yourselves into one, belonging together irrevocably. You felt wanted, and you found yourself wanting. You wanted him so close that it’d be impossible to discern where you ended and he began, as if you weren’t already fit together perfectly with him inside you.

The wanting was mutual. Right now, Eren wanted to offer you everything, to give with a generosity he couldn’t explain. His mind, his body, his heart—even deeper, his soul, if souls even existed; he wasn’t here to argue that. Every gentle caress and every harsh kiss was like the push and pull of the tides, to and fro until they crashed down in a rapturous wave. And like the moon, he could look down and know he was the one to coax it out of you.

That was all he wanted right then. That, and his wanting for your future just past the horizon, spent together with a family of your own.

Flushed from fucking, with sweat rolling down between his shoulders, he cradled the back of your head, tilting it to nip at the lobe of your ear.

“You. This.” His cadence was tense and brilliant, calm while you were in a tempestuous storm. “This is everything I’ve always wanted.”

The words swathed you like a wool blanket, squeezing your chest until you thought it might explode. You were already too full for such feelings—your heart brimmed with them, your own proclamations thick in your throat, his cock still buried inside you.

The world was dreamlike as Eren tipped your chin again to look at him. His pupils were blown, irises darkened sans a thin ring of green. You didn’t speak but what you told him was loud.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It emanated from your eyes; words unspoken were signed and sealed with kisses along his shoulders and up the column of his throat.

He came then with a shudder, with a gruff groan that was warm on the ears and his hips slammed into yours one last time.

He collapsed to his forearms with his heart thumping hard and his chest heaving against yours. You noticed the faint quiver in his biceps, counted his breaths. After the fourth he pulled out of you, his fifth breath sharp through his nose. You felt the wet heat of his cock against your stomach, felt the aftermath—the lewd combination of the two of you—drip from you. He rolled to your side, and you laid there, sticky sheets and all, like lovers do, not parting immediately but bathing in the afterglow.

You were still basking in it, practically sweltering now, when Eren opened his arms for you, ticking his head for you to come his way with a murmur of, “Come here, love.” An invitation you wouldn’t dare deny.

Cloaked beneath his arm, you felt his hand take your chin. He guided your faces together and kissed your forehead.

Just to have you there with him, his cheek rested upon your head, your breath warming his chest; to have you to fall asleep next to, every night, your body puzzle-pieced with his—all of that was enough for him.

And as Eren slipped his arm around your waist, just before he drifted to sleep with his hand over your belly, he couldn’t help but smile. You were so clueless as to how much you meant to him, how much you’d given him. The greatest of all was yet to come, and they would be with you this time next year.

thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #dividers by @/saradika

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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months

Note

Reader comes back from a mission with Natasha really sick. Bucky steps up and takes care of the reader. They don’t want to get Bucky sick, but he’s literally not worried about it because, ya know, super soldier. So he’s able to take care of them and stay with them and cuddle.

Bucky was sat on the couch with a book, trying to pass the time until you got home. You had been gone for 4 days on a mission with Natasha and while it was pretty low stakes, he was still holding his breath until you got home. He missed you terribly, especially since he didn’t have any missions or any real work to do while you were gone. He just tried to fill each day as best as he could until his doll returned home safe and sound.

He smiled when he heard his phone ring, expecting it to be you for your daily phone call that you made whenever you got a minute. But it wasn’t you. It was Natasha.

“Nat?” He asked, answering. “Is everything okay?”

He heard the redhead sigh on the other end. “Yeah, we’re okay. We’re gonna be home in an hour or so, but just wanted to give you a heads up, Y/N is pretty sick.” He went on alert. Whenever you were sick, even if it was just a small cold, Bucky went into full nurse mode, waiting on you hand and foot. He hated seeing you in any sort of pain or discomfort even if it was just an inevitable part of being a human. “Is she okay?”

“Um,” she hesitated. In the background, Bucky could hear you groaning. “She will be. I may need some help when we get here, though.”

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

Bucky spent the next hour preparing things for you. He made a big pot of soup, put on the tea kettle, changed the sheets on the bed so that they were fresh and clean for you. He laid out clothes and gathered every type of medicine he could find. When he heard the roar of the jet, he headed up to the roof ready to do whatever he had to help you.

Natasha stepped off the jet, greeting him with a smile. “She’s still in there,” she explained. “I don’t know if she can walk on her own.”

Bucky nodded and headed into the jet. You were curled up with your eyes closed. Your face was flushed and you were shivering. Bucky approached you like you were a small, scared animal. “Baby?” he whispered, sitting down next to you and stroking your hair.

“Hmmm,” you mumbled. He could tell you had a fever and you were definitely out of it.

“Can I take you inside? Get you to bed?”

You opened your eyes. “N-no,” you said through chattering teeth. “D-don’t wanna get you s-sick.”

Bucky smiled gently. “Honey, I can’t get sick, remember?” Usually whenever you were sick, you didn’t worry about passing it on to Bucky. You knew his supersoldier immune system prevented him from catching anything you had. The fact that you didn’t remember that right now told Bucky just how out of it you were.

“Oh.”

“Come here, baby,” Bucky said, scooping you into his arms as gently as possible. You were like dead weight, barely able to keep your head up. “Thanks, Nat,” he said once he’d gotten you off the jet. “I got it from here.”

He set you down on the bed, trying to keep you from falling asleep. He knew you needed to rest but you were still in your uniform, covered in dirt and grime from the mission. “What hurts, darlin’?”

You groaned, letting your head fall on his shoulder. “Everything. Head, throat, stomach. My whole body aches. Feel dizzy.”

“Can I run a bath for you? You’ll feel a little better if you’re clean.” Your only response was another groan and Bucky laughed. “Alright, stay here. I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You fell asleep in the span of time between Bucky running the bath and coming to get you. He hated to wake you up but he had to get you clean of the mission that was clinging to your skin. He shook your shoulder gently, once again scooping you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the toilet and helped you get undressed before doing so himself. He had to remember to thank Stark for the giant bathtub.

He got you into the bath and wrapped his arms around you so that your back was leaning against his chest. Lovingly, he ran his hands up and down your arms. “Baby how long have you been feeling sick for?”

“I dunno,” you mumbled. “Couple days?”

His eyes widened. “What? Why didn’t you come home? You know any of us could have stepped in on this one and taken your place.”

“Didn’t wanna be a disappointment,” you murmured. Bucky’s heart broke for you. You were such an overachiever, such a people pleaser. You constantly put the needs and wants of everyone else in front of your own. You never wanted to let anyone down, even if it was at the cost of your own health. “M sorry,” you continued.

“Shhh, it's okay. I just worry about you. You’re gonna kill yourself one day trying to keep everyone happy.”

“Can’t help it,” you said with your eyes closed.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay? Let’s just get you clean and into bed right now.” He spent the next 20 minutes washing your body and hair, taking his time to massage your scalp the way you loved. He spread the conditioner over your ends, letting it sit for a few minutes the way you taught him. By the time he was done, you had fallen asleep.

Bucky picked you up and got you dressed in one of his sweatshirts and your favorite pair of sweatpants. Your eyes fluttered open as he set you down in the bed. “Bucky, no. You’re gonna get sick!” You repeated your concern from earlier, worrying him by just how out of it you truly were.

“No, I’m not, honey,” he said, moving your hair out of your face. “Can you open your mouth for me, sweetie? I’m just gonna take your temperature.”

He looked at the thermometer with concern after it beeped. “You’ve definitely got a bad fever, babe. Your temp is 103.7.” He put his metal hand on the back of your neck, knowing the cold would feel good on your burning skin.

You hummed at the feeling, the vibranium sending waves of relief over your skin. “Wanna sleep.”

Bucky smiled at you. “You can sleep, baby. Can I hold you?”

“No, you’ll get sick!” You repeated for the third time.

“Baby, I won’t get sick. That I can guarantee, okay? Can you do me a favor and remember that I won’t get sick?”

You nodded and curled up against him, resting your head on his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you, stroking your shoulder gently. “I love you, Princess. Get some rest, okay?”

“Love you,” you said into his neck before drifting off into a deep sleep.

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sleepysnk · 1 year

Text

a/n: i was feeling under the weather the past few days and i actually was able to get some inspo for some headcanons! i hope you all enjoy! 🫶🏻 also don’t ever get sick </3 it’s annoying as hell.

characters: manjiro (mikey) sano, ken (draken) ryuguji, baji keisuke, hanma shuji

warnings: fluff, reader is sick, sickness (nothing too bad just a cold), mentions of vomit, mentions of food, use of pet names (baby, my girl, princess, babydoll, doll, babe), very very fluffy content.

TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK.

manjiro (mikey) sano:

- oh boy, expect something a little odd from mikey of all people. he doesn’t really know how to take care of someone when they’re sick.

- you had woken up in the middle of the night shivering your ass off. it took you forever to fall back asleep, but when you woke up the next morning, you felt awful. you kept breaking out in cold sweats and your body just get terribly achy the whole time. you assumed you had caught something from someone at work, because many of your coworkers called out a few days prior because of illness.

- mikey decided to swing by when you didn’t show up at your usual meeting spot earlier in the day. he grew curious on your whereabouts, so he made his way to your place and found you swaddled in blankets and the most comfiest clothes you could find.

- completely dumbfounded. he honestly thought you were planning some kind of sleepover or something.

- “babe, why are you doing that? did you plan something without me?! your own boyfriend!”

- then when he noticed how uncomfortable you looked, he picked up on the fact that you were clearly unwell. there were tissues scattered along your bedside table and your skin looked a bit lighter than it usually would. you also seemed fairly exhausted and it made your boyfriend worried.

- you tried telling him to leave because you didn’t want him to catch whatever you had, but he refused. he told you time and time again that you were his girlfriend and it was his job to take care of you.

- mikey decided to go out and find you whatever you needed (with the help of draken of course). he found whatever he could to possibly make a person feel better. soup, medicine, gatorade for the electrolytes, etc! he also had to buy himself a dorayaki on the way, but otherwise he managed to find some pretty nice things for you to feel at ease.

- he actually makes a nice bowl of soup for you to enjoy. mikey also makes sure to lend you one of his sweaters so you don’t get cold at night. it’s super adorable and he honestly gets so worried 😭. he makes you call him every night before bed so he can make sure you haven’t somehow passed away or something.

- you guys can’t kiss, but he makes sure to give you a nice forehead smooch every time he swings by your place.

- he is so salty he can’t makeout with you :/.

- when you start to feel somewhat better, he comes over and watches movies with you. you find that his presence helps you sleep a little better. he probably rubs your head and let’s you lay on him so you can get a nice rest. it’s so cute and he sometimes whispers nice things in your ear so you can feel more relaxed. he’s such a sweet boy <3.

- he’s a sweetheart, don’t ever lose this man.

draken (ken) ryuguji:

- he’s such a good boyfriend. i can’t help but say this every time i talk about this goddamn man. i think you can expect the best from draken of all people.

- you had gotten home from work and you were honestly exhausted. you thought you needed a nap or something, but that wasn’t the case. you woke up the next morning with the worst headache ever, and your throat felt like it was sandpaper every time you swallowed. draken noticed your change in behavior immediately, and was very concerned by it.

- draken instantly went into protective boyfriend mode. he made sure that you were keeping yourself hydrated and getting lots of rest, because he didn’t want something bad happening to you. you were his baby. he worried for you more than anything else.

- i hc this man knows how to cook a good meal for you. he definitely went to the grocery store and picked up some stuff for you. he’d make a really nice soup that’d make you feel all warm and fuzzy. it’s all you really feel like eating during the time you’re unwell, so expect lots of soups and other things of the sort. other foods taste horrendous and you can hardly stand them.

- he’s like a total caregiver. he checks on you every chance he gets and always makes sure you’re doing okay. draken constantly reminds you to take your medicine and eat and drink properly. even if you hate it, he’s always making sure you’re okay. he could never lose you.

- “hey baby, how’s my girl doing today? you take your medicine? make sure you finish up your soup. i’ll bring you extra water too.”

- he LOVES to take showers with you. he knows you two shouldn’t be that close, but he also wants you soothe your worries. i feel like he’d be the type to give you massages and help clean your body. he wishes he could kiss you, but he knows that he’ll fall ill. he doesn’t want to burden you with that, so he makes sure to hug you from behind or kiss the top of your head.

- hoodies. hoodies. hoodies. he will give you all of them so you feel warm at night. don’t worry, he’ll also make sure to cuddle you if you have a chill from a fever. he knows how hard it can be to deal with one, so he’ll be by your side for all of it!!

- he so puts the blankets in the dryer so they’re nice and warm for you!

- HE SO WANTS A KISS.

- “no, no kisses.” “aw! come on :(“

- when you start feeling better, he is so relieved to see you back on your feet. you can finally eat regular foods and he’s honestly so glad that you’re back to your usual self. he’d honestly probably cook you something, like a favorite dish. you’d thank this man for everything because he was truly a savior while you were sick in bed.

- however.. he does feel a scratch in his throat later on.

baji keisuke:

- say what you want, but this man is kind of dense. i’m not saying he’s dumb or anything like that all the time, but he can be clueless.

- you woke up the previous night feeling horribly nauseated. your stomach was in knots and you actually ended up catching some kind of stomach bug. you also threw up in the bathroom and it was horrible. you weren’t sure how you had gotten sick, or where you could have gotten the bug, but it was hell. you could hardly fall asleep that night from the stomach pains you felt.

- baji knew something was off the next day when you didn’t come swing by his house like you usually did. he grew really worried so he took a trip and found you in your bed, curled up in a ball looking not so great.

- he honestly thought you were pranking him or something. you had done it before.

- “hey, get up. i know you’re messing around with me right now.”

- after sort of yelling at him, he quickly realized you weren’t joking. he could see how sick you looked and he felt guilty for not believing you. you explained that you hadn’t felt great and you were throwing up your guts the entire night. he wondered if it was because you had eaten at a new restaurant just a few days prior. however, that shouldn’t have been the main focus. he wanted to be a good guy and take care of you because he felt horrible seeing you that way.

- he went to the store and bought you things that could soothe your stomach. his mom had informed him that it’s best to eat soft foods when suffering with a stomach virus, so he bought you some soup and make sure to give you extra water.

- he’s the type to rub your tummy if it feels upset or tight. he knows how bad those stomach aches can be, so he’d make sure to massage you nice and well. also, if you do end up throwing up again, he will hold your hair back and clean up any messes you might make. he’s gonna deal with it all, and he doesn’t care about anything but your well being.

- “baby, drink your water. don’t forget to! i don’t want you feeling worse!”

- total worrywart. he hates to admit it but seeing you in such a state makes him feel so bad 😭. he knows he shouldn’t feel bad, but he just can’t help it. you’re his girlfriend and you mean the world to him. he wouldn’t want something bad to happen to you because he wasn’t there to properly take care of you. that’s why he’s sticking by your side as much as possible.

- he probably would lay with you in bed while you tried to take a nap. he’d be running his fingers along your skin and trying his best to soothe any pain you might have. it’s super cute and he sweet talks you the entire time to make sure you feel relaxed.

- eventually, the bug passes and you feel a lot better within the coming days. poor guy was so fucking worried but you managed to pull through it without any issues. baji probably reminds himself to never let you eat at that restaurant again 😭 and he also makes a note to never go there either.

- better thank him, because you’ll get lots of cuddles and kisses in return ;).

hanma shuji:

- hanma is a very busy man. he has shit to do and things to take care of, like you, but he was completely blindsided when you started to feel sick.

- you were a shivering mess the previous night when you were trying to fall asleep. you just couldn’t get warm and hanma woke up to you shaking like a leaf next to him. he assumed that maybe the heater had turned off or something, but when he awoke the next morning and heard you coughing up a lung, he knew something wasn’t okay with you. it was really worrying for the man.

- “hey, i’m taking you to the doctor, doll. put on something warm.”

- the doctor eventually revealed that you had the flu. your temperature was fairly high and he prescribed some medications for you. hanma was relieved to know that it wasn’t anything too bad, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend and care for you. he hated seeing his princess all sick and exhausted in bed, so he figured he’d help you with it all.

- such. a. fucking. king. he’d take a few days off of work and tell anyone who protests to go fuck themselves.

- hanma would definitely make sure you’re comfortable at home. he buys you plenty of tissues, ibuprofen, etc! he also lets you wear his clothes because he knows you’ll be more comfortable that way. he cooks you some nice food as well, and he even serves you tea for your sore throat. it’s all really sweet, so expect the real princess treatment if you’re not feeling good.

- he also doesn’t care if you get him sick. he’ll cuddle with you, kiss your head, hold you, everything. he’s like a damn furnace and his body heat honestly helps with the chill that comes with a fever.

- “just come here, babydoll. it’s just a little cold or whatever.. could care less about myself.”

- he makes sure you nap often. sleep is honestly some of the best medicine a human being could have, so he lets you fall asleep in his arms a lot. it usually happens after you’ve eaten some soup or watched a movie with him after a really long day. hanma will always make sure you’re well rested and taking care of yourself. it doesn’t matter how far he may be or what the risks might be.

- has probably teased you a few times for being sick 😭. he’d poke fun at you by cleaning up your tissues and making a gross face whenever he sees the snots all over them. you know he’s joking but you can’t help but throw a damn pillow at his head.

- when he does go back to work, he makes sure to call you and check in as many times as he can. he reminds you to take your medicine and that he’ll be home as soon as possible to take care of you. it doesn’t matter how much you reassure him, he will blow up your damn phone to make sure you’re not dead or anything. it’s super cute though. he always knows what to say to make you feel much better.

- once you do get better, he’s very relieved. your fever broke and you were feeling much happier within the coming days. hanma gave you all the kisses and lovings he could possibly give out. it’s super cute.

- he’s such a sweetheart ugh 🥲.

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haddonfieldwhore · 9 months

Text

sweet dreams - mike schmidt

mike schmidt x gn!reader

pt.1 here

warnings: a bit more angst, nightmares, brief mention of blood, i don’t know fnaf lore super well so if anything is inaccurate i apologize!! i’m trying my best

word count: 965

groaning as the alarm on your phone blared for the second time, you rubbed your eyes as you sat up in bed. reaching for the screaming device, you shut off the ringer and looked at the time - 5:45. shit, you thought, jumping up out of bed, nearly slipping as the covers tangled around your feet. mikes car was in the shop for a flat tire and you were going to be late to pick him up from work. sliding on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you threw one of mikes hoodies over your torso and sorted out your hair quickly before grabbing you phone and bag and running out the door. the cold weather prickled at your skin and you pulled the sweater tighter around yourself, the faintest scent of mikes cologne wafting into your nose. it was only about a 10 minute drive to the pizzeria, but still you were cutting it close and didn’t want to leave your boyfriend standing outside. starting your car, you turned the heat up to keep the cold morning air off of your tired body.

as you pulled into the parking lot, you noticed mike already sitting against the building, and you checked the time - 6:01. you were relieved that you hadn’t kept him waiting outside, and pulled up next to him. he jumped slightly as the car stopped in front of him, as if he hadn’t been paying attention or had been too zoned out to see you pull up to the building. standing up and dusting off the seat of his pants, he opened the passenger door and got in.

“hey,” he sighed, giving you a small smile.

“hey mike,” you smiled warmly back, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently, the shirt stubble there tickling your face. “i mean this as someone who loves you, but you look terrible.” he laughed under his breath.

“just tired,” he brushed it off, but you took a closer look at his face. there were dark circles under his eyes, and you noticed a cut above his eyebrow that was still bleeding a little. you grabbed a tissue and gently dabbed at his temple. “what are you- ah,” he hissed and you muttered an apology.

“baby, you’re bleeding. what happened?” mike touched his fingertips lightly to the injury, inspecting the crimson stain left on his hand.

“i must’ve hit my head on something… i’m okay.” he gently held your wrist as you tried to wipe at the blood again. how could he tell you the truth; that an animatronic animal had clawed him while trying to get into his office to stuff him into a costume? “really, i’m fine. you worry too much.” you sighed, not satisfied with his answer, but nevertheless put the car back in drive and finally pulled away from the building. out of the corner of your eye you noticed your boyfriends shoulders relax slightly as you left the parking lot.

“mike you promised me if anything weird happened-“ you pleaded.

“i know i know baby. but it’s only been like 4 days since i started. i’m just … getting used to the sleep schedule still. that’s all,” he assured you, but the uncertainty in his voice wasn’t very convincing.

“you mean the not sleeping schedule? mikey you haven’t slept more than 2 hours without waking up in days.” mike shuddered, trying to cover it up with a cough, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“y…you’ve noticed?” he mumbled.

“of course i’ve noticed.” you sighed. “it’s hard not to when you sleep next to me.” you laughed softly.

“i’m sorry-“ he began to apologize but stopped when you gave him a sympathetic look.

“you don’t have to apologize for having nightmares.” he nodded slightly in response, before looking out the window at the passing surroundings. he leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. you focused your attention back on the road for a second before out of your peripheral vision you noticed mike drift off to sleep, his head falling over towards your side of the car before you caught him with your hand. the gentle impact shook him awake, and he looked around to figure out where he was, a scared look on his face.

“what-“

“mike you’re still in the car with me. we’re almost home,” you gently stroked his hair as he leaned into your touch again.

“sor-“ he began to apologize again. “right.”

arriving at the apartment, you parked the car and got out, walking arm in arm with mike into your flat, sliding your shoes off and dropping your bag on the floor. you locked the door behind you as mike, too tired to walk to the bedroom, flopped onto work out couch in the small living room. you checked the time on your phone - still having a few hours before you had to leave for work. you set an alarm on your phone before walking over to the couch and cuddling up next to mike, who’s arms wrapped around you tightly so you wouldn’t fall.

“don’t you have to go to work?” he mumbled in your ear, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“hmm not for a while. and i think i might take a personal day anyway,” you sighed, nuzzling closer to him and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep. “if you have any nightmares just wake me up okay? anything that’s trying to get you has to go through me first,” you promised, and mike chuckle slightly, sending a vibration through his chest.

“okay, i will,” he mumbled, nearly asleep already as he kissed your neck innocently, although he felt a pang in his heart as he thought to himself

you have no idea what you’re signing up for

#fnaf imagine #fnaf #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #michael afton

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

okay but reader edging eddie until he’s basically in tears begging?? i know you’ll do it perfectly i’m on my knees asking for it

author’s note: EDGING!!! it’s literally my biggest weakness and i know eddie loves that shit, you can’t change my mind. i hope this isn’t too terrible lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), orgasm denial/delay (edging), oral (f receiving), handjobs, desperate and begging eddie, dry humping (sort of), eddie kink shaming himself out of embarrassment (reader is super reassuring), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.2k

“Have you really never—“ Eddie stares at you with a skeptical look, “Shit, am I actually that weird?”

The absurdity of the question makes you laugh, wondering why Eddie felt the need to psychoanalyze his own kinks and preferences all the sudden, both of you bare naked and pressed against one another. If there was any other time to talk about, now was definitely not it. But, Eddie was stuck on it and it wasn’t going to end until he reached his conclusion.

“I haven’t, not to myself,” You explain carefully, finger pointing at your chest, “—I mean, I haven’t to anyone else either, to be clear. But, I know what it is. It’s not weird.”

“You think so?” Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he squeezed at your waist.

“It’s just delaying orgasm.” You laugh softly, the idea creeping up on you suddenly, “Do you—do you want me to try it with you?”

Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing over his shoulders, “I guess it’s not different than when we watch each other anyways—“

“Oh, no,” You interrupt, hoping to clarify, “I meant me edging you.”

“Huh,” Eddie huffs, eyes widening slightly, piercing into you deeply—Eddie was always so remarkably expressive, both in his face and his actions, “uh, yeah—yeah we can do that.”

Eddie’s adamant about taking care of you first, insisting he would take his time and he meant it. He’s soft, but sure in his touches, gentle traces of fingertips along the inside of thighs, over the soft pudge of your belly, using his grip to spread your thighs wide and breath in the smell of your arousal, mouthing at your cunt teasingly, featherlight licks through your folds until it’s nearly unbearable—it’s torture, but you wouldn’t expect anything else, not with the way Eddie cherished you so deeply. He was always afraid he was going to lose you—not that you could ever leave him, but he’s never managed to have any stability in his life outside of his uncle and had to deal with everyone always wanting to run in the opposite direction of wherever he was. He was a disease to the town of Hawkins, a constant stain on their otherwise perfect image, and you couldn’t believe it. Eddie was nothing that everyone said he was—vile, disgusting, rooted in evil.

The only thing Eddie had to offer was love—deep love, for everyone he cared about in his life, and it showed.

When he brings you to a slow orgasm, fingers drifting in his hair to pull at the strands in earnest, you cry out a broken moan as he overstimulates your already sensitive clit, before leaning away to press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, smiling against the skin.

Eddie moves slowly after that, crawling his way up toward his pillow until he can plop himself down on the mattress. You’re in the middle of pulling your underwear back up when he shifts, trying desperately to get comfortable. You smile to yourself, hurrying to finish pulling the garment back on before curling up against his side, his shoulder pressed into your chest and his head leaning heavily against the wall as he propped himself up slightly.

“You seem nervous.” You note, teasing him slightly.

“I just—I usually get kind of,” Eddie tries to find the right words to not sound so embarrassed, but he has to be truthful, “loud, I guess.”

“Eddie, baby,” You laugh softly, “that’s not a secret.”

Still, you can see his worry and try to soothe it.

“Don’t hold back, seriously.” You assure him, “I want this to be good for you—and I’ll stop if it gets too intense or you’re not into it anymore.”

Eddie nods slowly—he knew the playing field was level, there was never any type of power dynamic that needed to be fought between you two, it was equal give and take. A mutual assurance that both of you felt good and enjoyed yourselves as much as possible. Eddie was a better lover than he cared to admit.

“Do you still have that small bottle of lube?” You ask, breaking his stupor as he stared over at you. His face tenses for a moment in thought before he suddenly remembers, swinging his body over yours briefly to rummage in his bedside table until he finds the tiny bottle and tosses it into your hand wordlessly. “It’s just—the friction and all.”

“No, I get it.” Eddie laughs knowingly, having been on the wrong side of too many dry handies from himself in desperation, before he figured out what felt good, rather than just crudely trying to deal with the problem.

You do him the favor of warming it up in your hand briefly, his eyes watching intently as you move, rubbing it briefly with careful fingers before taking his already half-hard cock in your hands. It’s a simple touch, nothing to drive him crazy, but the wetness is slightly jarring and makes him wonder just how long he can hold off.

You’ve learned Eddie inside and out, all the small touches that drive him crazy, the little nuisances in the faces and noises he makes when he feels that pit in his stomach growing, pleasure settling deep in his groin and his balls tightening up as it nears, his face scrunching up in concentration. You save him the torture of being too agonizingly slow, squeezing him with a solid enough pressure that has him groaning out into the silence of the trailer, his upright positing faltering slightly as his head hits the pillow.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs and if that’s any indication, you’re not sure how much longer he has left, “maybe—maybe a little less.”

You loosen your grip slightly, still keeping at the same steady pace as before and Eddie’s face relaxing, a subtle nod of appreciation as he shifts back up slightly, glancing up at you briefly before staring down at his cock, delicate fingers wrapped around the length of him. He should feel slightly offended that you’re so good at this, better than him even, but he can’t focus on any of that right now, your hand speeding up gradually as his hands grip for the sheets, his toned thighs tensing and struggling to keep still as his hips bucked into your hand out of pure instinct, not realizing he was even doing it until he feels that heat grow at the base of him and then you’re letting go of him completely, hand moving to rest gently against his thigh.

“Did I time it right?” You ask softly, squeezing gently where your hand rested.

Eddie nods dumbly, still fighting off the urge to come like this, untouched by you.

“Again?”

“Please?” Eddie begs, shifting to rest his palms behind him until he’s leaning up fully, head thrown back in an effort to not look at you or himself, knowing it would push him over that edge quickly.

His voice is soft when he speaks, pleading—it’s a contrast from his usual showy attitude and crass dirty talk, always finding ways to make you blush until your face runs hot, giving you no other choice but to close your eyes and look away, too overwhelmed by his heated gaze. But, it was his turn now and he was just as bad, only a lot more vocal about it.

Eddie alternates between deep, forceful groans when you squeeze just a little too much, to long, drawn out moans as you pull up his shaft, squeezing at the tip and letting your thumb rub over the slit there, spreading around the mess he’d already made of himself just from almost getting there, the slick of precome overtaking the need for any lube or spit. You keep at that for a few seconds—torturous and dreadful for Eddie, but enjoyable for you as you turn to look at him, his mouth hung open in a choked off gasp, eyes shut tight.

When he finally finds the energy to open his eyes, they immediately lock onto yours, and Eddie’s never looked more wrecked or shameful, eyes pleading for relief but you know he can take—it’s what he wants and he can always hit the brakes whenever he needs to, but you knew that wouldn’t happen.

“Tell me when.” You order him softly, squeezing gently at the base of his dick before starting a rough pace, nothing that Eddie’s prepared for as he groans loudly, the weight of him falling into you weakly, using what little concentration he had to pull your face toward him, his lips ghosting over your own, his breath breeching your own lips as he hissed, that initial feeling hitting him quickly.

“Fuck, stop—stop.” Eddie grunts out, pulling your hand away weakly, his dick twitching at the sudden lack of stimulation—his face is flusher than before, breath labored as tries to focus through the lingering ache, letting you lick slowly into his mouth, tongue tracing against his top lip teasingly.

It goes on for another fifteen minutes, slow and languid strokes to keep him teetering on the edge, enough that he can catch his breath and still talk through it, murmuring soft praises toward you despite how well he’s doing himself—he can’t help but compliment you, it’s like a second nature.

“God, so pretty—so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart.” He says, voice strained. You smile with a hint of something, daring him to look away.

“I want you to watch,” You tell him, voice steady, “and no matter how bad you want to come, you’re gonna hold off.”

Eddie nods in understanding, letting you guide his face by the chin until he can look down, fingers wrapping around the length of him carefully, even a simple touch was enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air.

You try not to feel bad about the whole thing, but Eddie thrashing and struggling to hold back beside you is enough to spur you even further into it, working him up the point of him not even making sense, groaning out unintelligible words as you keep up the same rhythm of tugging, waiting for him to give you that sign, and then letting him go completely.

Eddie’s never been so worked up in his entire life, on the verge of tears, mouth falling open in a broken sob.

“Oh fuck,” He curses, “Please, please, please—“

It’s the only thing his futile brain can come up with in the moment, begging and willing to do just about anything if it meant he could finally get some release.

“Are you calling it?” You ask with a soft laugh and despite the obvious welling of tears in his eyes, he laughs too.

Eddie nods furiously, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as his hips bucked up into your fist, “Yes—yes, please, I can’t—“

“Can’t take it?”

“It hurts,” Eddie whines, “Feels so fuckin’ good but I need to come, baby please—“

He can’t even form a full sentence, a mess of broken sobs and pleading words as he looks up at you with wide eyed innocence.

“I just—let me touch you?” Eddie begs, his hand reaching up to push your arm away with not much resistance on your end.

Eddie maneuvers you easily, hands tucked under your thighs as he switches positions, shifting until he’s laying over you and his aching cock pressed up against the soft cotton of your underwear, the only barrier keeping him from slipping inside and ending all his suffering. He doesn’t even think about that, rutting into you with a desperation you’ve never seen before, hands touching whatever he could find until they settle on your face, face pulled taut until he catches your eyes and he’s done for, collapsing and burying himself in the crook of your neck, making a mess of himself and you in the same instance, coming with a deep, drawn out groan. It’s so intense that it aches, even in the aftermath as he catches his breath, feeling like his stomach was in knots.

Eddie releases a long, shaky sigh against your skin, his hand coming down to rub tenderly at the line of your jaw.

“—Good?” You ask hopefully, not sure of his expectations in comparison with his own experiences. Eddie only catches the tail end of your question, until you finally speak again, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.” Eddie assures you, his voice sounding unnaturally raw, “Gotta catch my breath, sorry.”

You give him a moment, rubbing your fingers through the soft ringlets of curls, pushing his bangs away from his forehead where they were stuck from sweat, his eyes shut in exhaustion. Eddie laughs suddenly, giddy despite his evident exhaustion.

“I’m a horrible person for enjoying that so much,” Eddie says, blush filling his face in embarrassment, “aren’t I?”

You shake your head gently, humming a quiet, “Mmm, no.”

Eddie doesn’t know why he feels so ashamed, but it’s never bothered you—his openness with his sexuality and the things he’s enjoyed—and you hate that he still feels constant shame about certain things.

“Besides, you sound so cute when you beg.” You tease, earning a nose scrunching face of disgust from Eddie at the word.

“Cute?” Eddie asks, “Not me, sweetheart. That’s impossible.”

You nod challengingly, leaning up into Eddie’s space as he pulls away slightly, grabbing his discarded shirt to clean up the mess, “Sorry, I meant adorable.”

Eddie doesn’t argue, but allows himself the final word.

“That’s right,” Eddie smiles, leaning over to press a quick kiss against your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “and don’t you forget it.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #1kfic

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eureka-its-zico · 25 days

Note

I’m gonna need one of those short prompts of zoro just thirsting after doc. I wanna see heart eyes and bullying from Nami.

With that being said, something light would be nice. The series has been pretty dark for the last two chapters and it’d be nice to see them act relatively normal again

I took a small break from working on Ch. 10 to write this out. This chapter is a lot more fun and way less serious than the other two, and I feel like this little spin-off I wrote gives good insight into the chapter.

I hope you like it 💕

P.s. I wrote this on my phone and posting it from my phone so if it’s a little wonky, please forgive me.

——————————

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

If Nami called him out one more time he was going to need to hit something. And if aforementioned orange-haired friend asked how long he’d been watching you, Zoro was going to lie.

Just like what he was doing now.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The shit eating grin Nami wore at his response told him all he needed to know.

He was a terrible liar.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Nami quipped.

“I’m sorry is there a reason you’re here? Besides to annoy me.”

“Ouch!”

Zoro didn’t finish watching Nami pretend to cover up a wound or to see her finish the playful pout she’d been sending his way the past couple of weeks. It allowed his gaze to fall back on where you’d been the last half hour tending to the tangerine trees they’d taken with them for Nami. A piece of Nami’s old life - her old home - planted on the ship as a reminder of all she’d overcome and what she’d gained.

It had taken less than a day for you to talk Nami into showing you how much water to give them and how to carefully trim their branches. Zoro warned you not to overdue it. You were still healing - some of your stitches barely keeping the once open wounds an inch from reopening with one wrong move.

You quickly overruled his worries with a soft press of your lips against his. He refused to admit it had left him shellshocked as you walked away; rooted to the spot next to the island in the kitchen with that damn cook smirking at him while his brain tried to remember how to make words.

“Shut up, waiter.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Sanji replied, flabbergasted and yet, still smirking.

“Keep it that way.”

Zoro stormed out of that kitchen and wanted to storm away from Nami too, but this place on the upper terrace of the deck gave him the perfect spot to watch you. To make sure you were being careful and only a short distance away if you weren’t.

“I thought you guys were together.”

God, he really needed Nami to fuck off. Crossing his arms, Zoro leaned his forearms against the railing and hoped it would send the message he was done conversing. Unfortunately for him, Nami moved closer. Her back against the rail and her arms draped behind her. It gave Nami the perfect view of his face.

Zoro knew she wasn’t going to leave him alone until he answered.

“We are.”

“So, care to tell me why you are watching her like you’re still pining for her?”

“I’m not pining,” he grumbled back.

“This is the definition of pining.”

That’s it. He was going to toss Nami overboard.

“I��m not - “

He refused to admit defeat but damn it he couldn’t stop his forehead from pressing down into the wood of the bannister. He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed to anyone listening to give him strength.

You would be super pissed if he did throw Nami overboard.

“Is there a reason you’re still here bugging the shit out of me?”

“If you’re with her Zoro, go be with her. That’s all I’m saying. You shouldn’t have to creep around and be away from her when you clearly want to be next to her.”

Zoro did.

He couldn’t describe it. Fuck, he couldn’t deny it, either. Every atom of his being craved to be next to you. To bury his face in the crook of your neck and breathe you in. Memorize the smell of the sea on your skin and the different herbs you dried and for whatever concoctions you made that day. He loved it when he could smell Rosemary in your hair or the ginger that reminded him of home.

But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. It’d only been a couple of weeks since Luffy and crew had left the Conomi Islands. Only a few weeks when Zoro thought he would never…

“I’m just trying to give her space.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so soft? Now Nami was giving him that look and - fuck.

Zoro refused to glance up at Nami - the look that must be on her face. So, he kept his eyes on the safest place he could find.

You.

“Look, I know this relationship thing is kind of new for you, Zoro. It can be scary, at times.”

“I’m not afraid,” he cut in.

“-but,” she continued ignoring his sudden outburst. “I know for a fact the last thing she wants is space. Doc wants you, Zoro more than she’s going to want to be left alone.”

She clapped her hand against his shoulder, signaling she was departing, and left him brooding against the banner. His eyes no longer watching as you gently cut dying stems from the tangerine trees, but out into the endless blue and wondered if it was possible that Nami was right.

He was never going to hear the end of it if she was.

#bitter-post-millennial #answered #Chaos in Their Bones #roronoa zoro #opla #one piece live action #roronoa zoro x reader

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sweetracha · 1 year

Text

Choose a Flavor

There are two versions of this story based on the experience you want to have. Will you be a good girl or a brat?

Flavor Selected: Good Girl

Sugar Content: Spicy Sweet (SMUT!)

Allergy Warning: Hard Dom Chan, Titles (Master and Daddy), Pet Names (Bunny, Baby, Good Girl, Princess, etc.), Praise, Overstim, Sweet Mean Dom, Dumb is used, Illusions to aftercare.

The room you stood in was silent. Not a single sound rang out. So quiet in fact, you could hear the thoughts blaring through your head. Your heart was drumming an unsteady beat in your ears and your breath danced along. Was this nervous or excited? Both you decided, it was both.

After a few failed relations and some more than disappointing hookups, you decided maybe love and lust wasn’t for you. Having to share your kinks and fantasies over and over again was tiring. No one seemed to understand what you wanted, no what you NEEDED out of a relationship. Giving up was the best option. That was until a friend ranted about her failure of a date.

“He was sweet when I met him! And super attractive don’t get me wrong! But something seemed off. We went back to his place and we were hanging out in his bed watching a movie. I thought maybe something would happen so I wanted to freshen up. I left for the restroom and when I came back I must have picked the wrong door because when I opened it…” Your friend trailed off.

“What did you see?” You asked both out of curiosity and protectiveness. If this man did anything to hurt her you would make sure he would pay.

“Um well” her cheeks went bright red. “Remember that movie we jokingly watched back in college? The one about…you know…sex?”

“Yeah…50 shades of gray? It was a terrible representation of that lifestyle, but go on”

“Well… it was like that”

That's when it hit you. This man had a playroom. A full-on playroom dedicated to BDSM. you could finally have someone in your life to share details with. A friend that would actually understand you. You consoled your friend however, she needed you more right now. She admitted that she didn’t want to break his heart so you told her you'd do it on her behalf, all you needed was his number.

You set up a public meeting with the guy you now knew as Christopher. The two of you were to meet at a little cafe in the middle of town. While your friend described him to you, you weren’t exactly sure what he looked like. So when an incredibly handsome man walked up to your table, you were startled.

“y/n?” he asked and god was his voice intoxicating.

“Yeah–that's me! You must be Christopher” you replied with a much shakier voice than you would have liked. Chris took a seat across from you.

He was fidgeting the whole conversation, worried he actually hurt your friend. You explained to him since you were little girls she had always been scared of the taboo. This eased his tight expressions. However, the more you talked the more he picked up on. Your friend was not into the scene…but you never said anything about yourself.

“Sorry if this is out of the blue Y/N, but how do you know so much about this lifestyle? I mean you know much more than any book or movie would teach you” He said with a soft and caring tone but a cocky smirk on his lips. I

“I um- well I have looked into it” was a terrible lie, and he could tell.

“Honey, it's okay if you are an adorable little sub” He tested the waters, hoping to not scare you off. To be honest the thought of having a sub as gorgeous as you scared him a bit. When he saw the blush crawl up your skin and paint your face, he knew you had to be his.

Here you are now standing in his playroom. It was perfect, everything you could have dreamed of and more. You had seen it once before when you were going over consent contracts. Chris wanted to make sure you felt comfortable in this space. He made love to you in the black silk bed that sat on the middle wall. He was so sweet, soft, and sensual in those moments. You wondered how he could ever be a dom.

Trying to drown out your busy mind you took in the sights. Christopher, or Bang Chan as you learned was his dom persona, had an eye for detail. The room was decorated with leather and silk, reminding you of the silk piece he had you wear tonight. Red lights colored the corners tastefully. Paddles and other impact gear were organized along the walls. Ropes were twisted neatly on the bedframe. A wand and some other toys were charging on the black wood nightstand. Finally, you took in the scent of the room. Sharp whiskey and leather filled your senses, a perfect match to Chan’s cologne. Being so lost in the art of it all, you didn’t hear the door close or footsteps behind you.

“Hello little bunny” Chris welcomed as he slide up behind you, gently wrapping a hand around your throat. “Are you ready to play little one?” you nodded in response.

“Words honey, don’t be a brat now” his grip tightened.

“Yes Master” you meekly replied

“Good girl, here is how tonight is going to go. Every question I ask will be responded to verbally, Every order I give will be followed, and every word I say will be heard. Do this little bunny and Daddy will reward you greatly. If you fail to listen to me, however, you will be punished” His hand around your neck pulled you in close as he leaned into your ear and whispered “Hard”.

Tonight you were left with two choices. Be the good girl your dom wants you to be or have your fun and be a brat. Rewards or punishments were the ultimate questions.

You picked to be a good girl tonight

Chan spun you around so you were facing him, it didn’t matter if he had a shorter stature. Right now he towered over you. Leather-gloved hands came up to fix your pretty white bunny ears on top of your head. Christopher cooed at how innocent you looked in the dark space. He was going to have fun with you. Those same rough leather hands tilted your chin up to stare into his intense eyes.

“What are your safe words bunny?”

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop” You had to admit he stole your breath away. He was terrifying yet comforting at the same time as he hummed in approval.

“What is my name doll?

“Daddy or Master”

“Good bunny, such a good girl for daddy huh sweetie? Let's start now, how does that sound to you”

“Please Daddy” fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

Christopher laid you down on the black silk sheets. He leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. His big lips pillowed onto yours. You were getting lost in the false comfort of it all until he bit your bottom lip harshly and pulled back. The moan that left you was forever engraved in his mind. After his stunt he went back to kissing you but with more passion and fire. His tongue delved into your mouth and easily took dominance. It wasn't long before kisses trailed down your jaw and onto your neck. He explored you until one spot, just under your ear, made you moan louder than any before. He latched on. With intent to mark what was his, Chris sucked and bit that section all while you sang out in pleasure. When he pulled back, he was satisfied with the deepening purple bruise left behind.

His next stop was your breasts. After removing the white silk babydoll gown, he took a second to admire your body.

“Fucking gorgeous bunny” as he would have put it

He kissed, twisted, and sucked each nipple while you whined and wiggled.

“Stay still baby, you were doing so good” The praise was like electricity to your skin. You needed him to see you as his good girl. So as best as you could you stayed still.

Finally, he made his way down to where you needed him most. Your panties were soaked from his previous exploration and from the look on his face, he approved.

“So wet honey, all for me?” He knew the answer but wanted to see that embarrassed blush again from the cafe.

“Yes Daddy, wet for you,” you said so quietly you almost thought he didn’t hear.

“Good girl, that must be so uncomfortable bunny. Let Master help you with that okay? Dumb little bunnies like you need all the help you can get” He cooed before driving right in. He gave you no time to adjust to the new feeling. Pleasure overtook your body and you began to shake. Chan took this as an opportunity to slide in two fingers and scissor you open.

“So sensitive little bunny, whatever am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck me please” you cried out so loud you were sure the neighborhood heard

“Cum first, then daddy will fuck you”

With that he went back in, eating you like a man starved. His fingers picked up the pace, hitting the spot that made you melt over and over again. It was all becoming so much. A familiar knot formed in your stomach and before you could say anything it snapped. You came with a loud moan and shook uncontrollably. No man, woman, or person had ever made you feel like that. Christopher rode out your high with you. Once he knew you were okay he sat on the bed and pulled you into his lap, he just needed to hold you for a second.

“How did that feel little bunny?” he asked while petting down your crazed hair

“So good master” your speech incredibly slurred

“Color baby?”

“Green daddy, so fucking green” you panted, and with that, he tossed you on the bed.

He removed his painfully hard cock from his black dress pants. The tip was bright red and leaking. The size still scared you even if you had taken it before. But you trusted Chan, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you more than you wanted. He placed you in a mating press and slowly entered your soaking entrance. You couldn't help the long drawn-out moans that left you both. Once he was finally seated in you he waited.

“Beg for it princess, beg for your master to fuck you”

“Please master please fuck me” You whined

“Oh come on now, you can do better than that. Yeah? Be a good little bunny and fucking beg” The glint in his eye and the smile on his face was terrifying in the best way possible.

“Please Daddy please fuck your little bunny! Only you can fuck me. God please just use me. I need it Master, you own my pleasure” Before you could go on he rammed into you.

He set a hard and steady pace. It was clear he knew the difference between fast sex and hard sex. Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back into your head. He knew by how you were clenching around him that you were close.

“Cum” is all he said and you exploded into ecstasy. Unlike before however, he didn't stop.

Instead, his gloved hand captured your wrists and pinned them above you. With his strength, there was no freeing yourself. His other hand reached behind you to grab something. You were about the question him until you heard a humming come to life. The black wand was placed onto your overly sensitive clit. You practically screamed.

“Cant! Sensitive” were the only two words you could create.

“What did I say, princess? What master gives you, you take. I know you can handle this because you are just my dumb little bunny who only wants pleasure from her master. So. Fucking. Take. It” Those last few words were punctuated with incredibly hard thrusts.

Soon enough another orgasm rockets through you. This time however you clenched down so hard on Chris that he almost lost it right there. He no longer cared about your pleasure and needed to released. Like an animal, he pounded into you, wand long forgotten on the stained sheets until he snapped. He filled you to the brim with his cum and cursed as he pumped the rest of it into you. He pulled back and watched it leak from your fragile frame. You were the most amazing site to see. To him, you were the 8th wonder of the world.

“So good little bunny, so good” He whispered to you as he began to clean you off.

“Thank you Daddy” your voice croaked

“Shhhhh not now little one, I'm just Christopher right now bun”

“Channie?” you slightly sat up with a sweet questioning expression on your face. He was going to marry you someday.

“Yes princess, Channie is here. Let's get you into a bath baby girl.”

Change Flavor?

#stray kids #skz #Stray kids smut #Skz smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

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torscrawls · 1 year

Text

The Suspicious Wayne Family

Summary:

“Well, several of them have come back from the dead so I just had to check it out for myself!”

Tim felt himself go cold. “…How do you know that?”

“Ghosts take note if someone manages to come back from the dead, you know?” Phantom leaned in and lowered his voice as if sharing an embarrassing secret, “It’s a terrible faux pas.”

Phantom comes to Tim with some concerns about the Wayne family. Tim really isn’t ready to deal with this.

Words: 2 023

Can be read on AO3!

“Augh!” Phantom groaned as he slumped across Tim’s desk in the Watchtower, utterly ignoring the fact that Tim was very much in the middle of work.

Tim, used to several dramatic siblings without any concept of personal space, simply sighed and tried to shove him off the desk. “Can you go be dramatic somewhere else? Some people are actually trying to get some work done.”

Phantom ignored him as he fused himself halfway into the desk, preventing Tim from depositing him onto the floor, much to Tim’s annoyance. Instead, Phantom groaned and splayed his arms wider, completely blocking Tim’s view of the screen. “You wouldn’t believe what just happened!”

Tim heaved a deep sigh as he gave up on work for now, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and asked, “Alright, I’ll bite. What happened?”

Phantom immediately perked up. “Thanks for asking! You see, I was minding my own business—”

“Getting up to your usual shit,” Tim muttered under his breath as he sipped his coffee.

Phantom ignored him as he continued, “—when I ran across this huge house and there was this guy inside, which I know isn’t that strange by itself. But! He was reaaal big, and he had this white strip in his hair, which, I know, is a bit hypocritical for me to comment on, but this guy looked like such a try-hard—but anyway, he just attacked me on sight! With guns! Sure, they were regular guns, not ecto ones, so you know, I was fine, but still! So rude!”

Tim choked on his coffee. A huge and angry guy in a big house with white in his hair? That sounded awfully familiar… Hadn’t Jason mentioned that he would drop by the mansion today? Tim coughed to clear his throat and then managed a weak, “That’s… weird.”

Ah. So that’s what Damian had meant when he called in a disturbance in the air earlier. They hadn’t believed him since the cameras hadn’t picked anything up, but if it had been a ghost… Maybe he owed his little brother an excuse. Not that he would ever admit that to said little brother, but still. And that also meant that Phantom had definitely been in the Wayne mansion.

Tim sucked in a deep breath. “That’s definitely worrying.” Phantom didn’t need to know that he wasn't talking about him getting attacked by a sword. Why the fuck had Phantom been at their house?!

Phantom nodded with a laugh. “Right? We didn't even know each other yet! Usually people don’t attack me with a sword until I’ve at least introduced myself first. Or, well, not always, but I can usually at least figure out why they attack me, you know?”

Tim didn’t know and decided not to comment on that worrying statement, instead focusing on gathering information instead. Familiar territory and all that. “What were you even doing in a random big house in the first place?”

“Not just any house!” Phantom wagged his finger. “They’re the Waynes! Which, okay, I didn’t really know a lot about them but my friend said that they are famous or something. And I believe her! The house was like a mansion!”

“Alright,” Tim allowed, congratulating himself on how unbothered he sounded as he parsed through Phantom’s excited rambling. “Why were you in the Wayne mansion, then?”

“Well, several of them have come back from the dead so I just had to check it out for myself!”

Tim felt himself go cold. “…How do you know that?”

“Ghosts take note if someone manages to come back from the dead, you know?” Phantom leaned in and lowered his voice as if sharing an embarrassing secret, “It’s a terrible faux pas.”

“Right. Of course.”

“Yeah!” Phantom nodded before pausing with a frown. “Wait. How do you know that they have died?”

“Of course I do. I’m a detective in Gotham and they are well-known in the city.”

“Hmmm…” Phantom trailed off, and Tim was tensing up in preparation for an argument, but then the ghost perked up as if remembering something. “And Bruce! Bruce Wayne! I’m pretty sure he trains his kids to be like child soldiers or something. Maybe he even uses them as his minions in secret evil schemes!”

Tim felt himself start to sweat. “Let’s��let’s talk to Batman about this.”

“The Gigabat? Why?”

“He might know the best approach.” Might know any approach, cause Tim certainly didn't.

“Alright. Sure,” Phantom agreed easily and followed as Tim hurried out into the corridor, seemingly blissfully unaware of the panic he had caused.

How on earth had they been noted by ghosts without knowing about it? How had Phantom managed to stumble upon this information? If had managed to find the mansion, what else had he managed to put together…? Had he seen the cave?

Tim pushed upon the door to Bruce’s office and walked in as confidently as he could manage at the moment. “B? Phantom has some… concerns he wants to bring up.”

Bruce had turned away from his screens as they entered the room, no doubt ready to admonish them for disturbing him, but something in Tim’s voice must have tipped him off that something was going on because he turned fully towards them and simply demanded, “What is it?”

Phantom didn’t waste any time before bluntly stating, “I think we should investigate the Wayne family. I think they might be a crime syndicate, possibly even supervillains.”

It wasn’t often that Tim saw Bruce at a loss for words. Tim couldn’t blame him as he himself had to restrain himself not to visibly wince at Phantom’s words.

Phantom on the other hand seemed not to notice as he continued, “I thought you would like to know, what with them being in Gotham and all? Really, I’m surprised you didn’t know about them already.”

“Why would you assume they are supervillains?” Bruce asked and Tim was impressed by how calm he sounded.

“Oh, well, you know… The kids all have obvious combat training, the house is riddled with weapons, and the family seems awfully involved with all the major catastrophes in Gotham as well as all the major villains,” Phantom said casually before pausing as he tapped a finger to his lips in thought and adding as an afterthought, “and, of course, because of the secret lair beneath the mansion.”

Well, that answered Tim’s earlier question whether he had seen the Batcave or not. He was very grateful for Bruce and his frankly terrifying poker face as the older man just said, “That’s quite the list…”

Phantom beamed. “Thank you!”

“And why did you start investigating them?”

“Well, on top of all the gossiping grannies mobbing me in the Zone to talk about the young men using the afterlife like some sort of revolving door, I know a thing or two about evil billionaires with hidden identities and Bruce Wayne just screams secrets, you know?”

Bruce didn’t answer, Tim just stared. Phantom clapped his hands, “So. When are we starting the investigation?”

Bruce shook his head, took a deep breath and said, “We’re not investigating them.”

Phantom looked surprised for a split second before raising a single eyebrow, “Is it because he’s so rich? Oh! Is that why you have so many expensive gadgets?”

“What.”

“I mean, that’s why you want to look the other way, right? Because he pays you?” Phantom turned wide eyes on Tim. “All of you?”

Bruce simply stared as Tim managed a weak, “No?” Even if, technically, he was getting paid by Bruce Wayne.

Phantom leaned in closer to Tim and whispered. “Do you guys need help? I’ve beaten up billionaires before, I can do it again.”

“Thanks? But no thanks. Please don’t beat up Bruce Wayne.”

Phantom gasped, turning back to Bruce with way too much delight in his eyes. “It’s consensual? Wait. Does that mean he's your sugar daddy?!”

“This conversation is over.”

“What?! Why?”

“You can’t come in here with baseless assumptions about civilians and expect me to play along.”

“Alright. Not your sugar daddy, I get it,” Phantom said with a wink towards Tim, “But I thought you guys would want to at least look into it a bit more?”

“They Waynes are not a problem,” Bruce all but growled out.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?” The words said as a challenge but Tim could see no anger or annoyance in Phantom’s expression, hear nothing but glee in his voice. It was as if he didn’t want Bruce to really look into them, as if he was just looking to rile him up.

Something about the whole situation made Tim pause.

It was a bit strange that Phantom came to them with this, wasn't it? He had no reason to think that they were connected to the Waynes by more than the city they lived in. He usually did his own thing, and he had done that by going to the mansion at first, hadn't he? So what had changed? Why had he decided to involve Tim?

The glee, the probing questions, the way he slowly revealed more information… It was almost as if he—

“Wait a second. You know!”

Phantom burst out laughing. “Finally! Ancients, I thought you would see through me in like one second flat!”

Tim punched him in the arm. “You’re such an ass! I can’t believe you!” Phantom just kept on cackling.

Unsurprisingly, Bruce seemed to catch on pretty quickly as he stood up from his chair, looming over Phantom threateningly. Or trying to, as Phantom was still floating a good few feet in the air. “And you figured this out from other ghosts?”

Phantom snorted and wiped at his eyes. “Mostly. Contrary to popular belief, the dead do talk. But I wouldn’t worry too much about it, not many of them ever visit the Human Realm and I can guarantee that they have no idea who you are. They are not up to date when it comes to human affairs.”

Bruce frowned and Tim immediately recognized his patented brooding face. “That’s a security risk I hadn’t considered.”

It must have hurt him to admit it, but Tim couldn’t really take any joy in it; he was right there with him. Tim groaned as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Aren’t they supposed to not tell any secrets?!”

Phantom laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, they very much do.”

“Well, considering a certain someone, I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Tim said with a pointed look at Phantom.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” Phantom exclaimed in mock anger. “Have you guys considered not dying? I mean, man, I thought I had a problem with staying alive.”

Bruce cut them off with a no-nonsense, “You will not tell anyone about this.”

Phantom mimed zipping his lips shut. “Silent as the grave.” Then he pursed them in thought before adding, “On one condition.”

Tim saw the way Bruce tensed and couldn’t help the way he himself also tensed with anticipation. Phantom could ask for anything.

“What?” Bruce asked bitingly.

“I want some of those cookies that were in the oven. They smelled amaaaazing!”

Bruce silently turned back to his monitor, not gracing that with an answer. Tim grabbed a hold of Phantom’s—thankfully currently corporeal—arm and dragged him from the room as he said, “I’m sure Alfred would love to give you some cookies. You can come over for dinner and we can talk.” Tim paused and then continued, “And you can explain what’s going on to Jason and Damian. I’m sure they’re both freaking out.”

“Non-living dinner?” Phantom asked hopefully and the bizarre question almost made Tim stop walking.

“Yeah? Alfred usually cooks it first.”

“Sure, but, you know, does it stay dead?”

“Yes?” Tim asked with equal parts incredulity and dread.

“Alright!” Phantom beamed. “Count me in!”

Tim had a feeling that he had just made a grave mistake.

#dp x dc #dp #danny phantom fic #dp fic #danny phantom fanfic #dp fanfic #phic #there's big gremlin danno energy in this one #and it might be a spiritual (ha!) follow-up to Mad Scientists #just danny getting his revenge #my writing

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therealcocoshady · 8 days

Note

Ok sorry for blowing up your asks, but I have one that might be right up your angsty alley…

Marshall is having a particularly hard time on one of the anniversaries of Proof’s passing…🕊️ He’s super vulnerable with reader and she has to comfort him 😔🥺

DIFFICULT 🕊️

Eminem x Assistant Reader

Synopsis : Em is nowhere to be found as you're waiting for him for an important meeting. Turns out... It's the anniversary of Proof's passing and he needs you.

Tags : Vulnerability - Grief - Angst - Comfort

Author's Note : Thank you for this Ask ! I low-key love that you thought of me when it comes to angsty requests 👀. I got inspired and ended up writing quite a bit but I'm afraid it's all over the place. I hope you like it nonetheless. ❤️

Do you know where he is ? Paul asked, visibly unnerved. He should already be here !

He’s coming, you assured the manager. I reminded him of this meeting on Friday, don’t worry, he’s going to show up.

It’s your job to make sure he shows up on time, Y/N, Paul added sternly. That’s what personal assistants are for.

He’s never late, you said. I’m sure there’s a good reason. Something must have come up…

It was unlike Marshall to show up late to a work meeting, especially when it involved music. In the past year, since you had started working for him, he had never shown up late anywhere. If anything, he was a bit neurotic about punctuality. « Early is on time, on time is late » he always said. And when it came to anything regarding his latest album, he tended to show up extremely early, polishing details up until the last minute. Except that, today, he was almost thirty minutes late and you were facing Paul and Dre on your own, and there was only so much small talk you could make.

Look, if the album’s not ready for me to listen to yet, you guys just have to say so, Dre said.

No, it is, Paul assured him. I mean, you know Marshall, he’s always trying to polish and tweak little things, but we have a version that’s more than ready for you. We wouldn’t have you come from LA otherwise…

I’ll try an call him, you said.

You got up and went to your office. You were starting to be a little freaked out. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but you were starting to feel scared that something terrible had happened. One time, he got into a car crash and was not even that late. Thirty minutes late for Marshall was basically four hours late for anyone else. You got out of the room and tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. Had he lost his phone ? You knew he hated the iPhone you had convinced him to buy - to replace his more than ancient Blackberry - and he used it as little as possible, but him losing anything was unlikely. And he knew about this meeting. You had specifically reminded him of it. He wouldn’t show up late to a meeting with Dre. He had way too much respect for the man. You nervously checked his iCloud calendar, thinking that maybe he was confused about the time. Unlikely but not impossible either. You remembered adding the event « Meeting with Dre - ALBUM VERSION 1 » for this Monday, 9:00 AM a while ago. But it was nowhere to be found. Had it been accidentally deleted ? Had you dropped the ball ? No. Impossible. Not to toot your own horn, but you wouldn’t screw up like that. It was probably a bug. You checked the week’s other events. Deleted too. You knew he had other meetings and studio sessions planned, but they did not appear on the calendar. Weird. Especially since last week’s event were still appearing, and the following week’s too. It looked like someone had cleared this week’s schedule and you knew it wasn’t you. It had to be Marshall, then, since he was the only other person to have access to his calendar. You were worried. He would not clear a whole week’s schedule, especially not when he was nearly done with his album. Something had to have happened. Something awful, by the looks of it. Your mind immediately went to his family. They were the only people he would clear his schedule for. You decided to call Hailie, hoping that nothing awful had happened to her or her sisters.

Hey Y/N, you heard her soft voice say as she picked up the phone. How are you ?

Hey Hailie, you said nervously. Are you alright ?

All good, she said. Why ? Are you ok ? Is there anything wrong ?

Um… I don’t know, you said. I'm trying to reach your Dad. Have you heard of him ?

Not since Thursday, I think. He told me he was spending the weekend with you. What’s wrong ?

He’s just a little late to a meeting, you said as you tried to sound casual. I was worried that something had happened to you, your sisters, Nate…

No, we’re all good, she said reassuringly. Look, I’m in Chicago, but I can try and call him…

Don’t worry about it, you said. Enjoy Chicago.

Thank you ! See you !

Hailie didn’t seem too worried, so there was at least that. However, you were a little bugged off. You absolutely had not spent the weekend with Marshall and, frankly, you were a bit shocked that he had lied to his daughter about it. Not that you never spent the weekend together - in the past six months, it had happened quite a bit - but he was not the type to lie to his daughter. It was odd that he would use you as a lie, especially since your relationship - if you could call it that - was still in the developing stage. As far as Hailie was concerned, you were the closest thing her Dad had to a girlfriend but, in actuality, it was a bit more complicated. It wasn’t necessarily serious or committed, and there most certainly wasn’t any label on it. You were his personal assistant, whom he occasionally fooled around with. The only reason Hailie saw you as his girlfriend was that she had walked in on the two of you making out with very, very few clothes on. Thank God, she was an adult and didn’t really want to know anything about it. No one ever mentioned the incident but she assumed there was something between you and Marshall. And there was. In a way. But he wasn’t really the kind of guy to put a label on it and you knew it. He was extremely guarded and, even though you knew you were one of the people closest to him, you didn’t expect much. He was a really great boss, amazing man and more than satisfactory lover, but you knew him enough to know it would never evolve into anything serious. « I don’t do relationships, you know » he had once told you. And you didn’t mind. You enjoyed things just the way they were. The way you saw it, the sex you sometimes had - usually on work trips or late nights - was a perk to your job, along with the generous salary and health benefits. But regardless of all that, him lying about spending the weekend with you was extremely odd. You tried calling him again, but were sent straight to voicemail. You sheepishly went back to the conference room.

Did you talk to him ? Paul asked.

No news, you said. That’s odd. I’ll go to his place and if he’s not there, I’ll try the hospitals. I’m sorry.

I hope he’s ok, Dre said. Keep us posted ?

Of course.

You made your way to your car and drove to his place. Security knew your car and plates and saw you often enough to let you through the gates. You parked in front of Marshall’s house and immediately noticed that the car he used the most was parked out front. He was home. Thank God, you didn’t have to worry about a car crash. You rang the bell but no one came to open it. Maybe he had slipped in the shower and injured his head ? Or fallen down the stairs ? No. You often joked about him being older but he wasn’t geriatric either. Still, you were worried so you used your spare key and let yourself in.

The house was unusually dark and messy. You checked downstairs, the living room, kitchen, office… It was messy, like someone had rummaged through things, but Marshall was nowhere to be found. You tried every room upstairs, every closet, every bedroom, but he wasn’t there either. You decided to try the only remaining space you hadn’t checked : the basement (you doubted he was in the garage - he liked his cars but not enough to cancel a meeting about music). That’s where you found him : in one of the dimly lit rooms he had converted into a home music studio, laying on the carpet, eyes closed, headphones on his head. You gasped and almost thought he was dead. You immediately rushed to his side and checked his breath. As soon as you approached, he slowly opened his eyes and groaned.

Marshall, are you alright ? You asked. Are you hurt ?

No, he said in a raspy voice before sitting up.

You examined his face : he looked like a zombie, or at least like someone who had forgotten what sleep and food were. And judging by the smell, he had also forgotten about showers. You usually enjoyed his masculine scent but now he was smelling as rank as a teenage boy addicted to video games.

What are you doing here ? He asked.

I came to check you weren’t dead, you said. You missed the meeting with Dre. Paul is furious.

Wait… What day is it ? He asked in confusion.

Monday, you said. April 12th.

Fuck.

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard, and you inspected him closer. His eyes were bloodshot, with huge dark circles. The beard he usually kept well-trimmed was all over the place, so was his short hair, and his breath smelled of energy drink. He had always had a penchant for soda and Redbull, but it usually wasn’t to the point of smelling like a candy factory. Well, if you added the smell of sweat, it was more like someone who ran a marathon in the Redbull factory. Marshall looked at you without saying a word.

Are you alright ? You asked.

Does it look like I’m alright ? He groaned.

Not really, you admitted - not really knowing what to say.

Why are you ask, then ?

If you hadn’t been so worried, you would have snapped at him for behaving like an ass, but it wasn’t him. You sighed and looked at the CDs he’d been listening to : « Searching for Jerry Garcia » and « I Miss the Hip Hop Shop » by Proof. That’s when it hit you : today was April 12th and April 11th was the anniversary of his best friend’s passing. The both of you were sitting on the carpet, not saying a word. He knew that you knew.

Do you… Um… Want to talk about it ? You asked tentatively.

I need a shower, he said.

Yes he did. He definitely did. You got up and waited for him to do the same but he simply groaned as he tried to move. You gave him your hand and helped him up as he let out a moan and held his back. You wondered how long he’d been laying there, listening to music and losing track of time. He seemed to have trouble even standing up. « God, he must be exhausted », you thought.

Need help ? You asked.

Y-Yeah, he said.

Shower ?

Yeah.

Without a word, you helped him to the nearest bathroom where he started undressing without even waiting for you to leave. You could feel your cheeks burn. You’d seen him naked before, sure, but this different than the two of you shedding your clothes in a passionate moment. Now, you had the feeling of seeing something you weren’t supposed to. It felt a bit weird. You watched him step in the shower and went upstairs, to his closet, to pick some clothes for him to wear. You grabbed boxers, some sweatpants, a wife beater and a hoodie and put them in the bathroom, near the sink before opening the windows to let in some light and fresh air, as you tidied up a bit. You’d spent some time in his house before but you had never seen the place this messy.

Thanks for the clothes, Marshall said as he emerged from the bathroom.

Feeling better ? You asked.

Yeah.

When was the last time you showered ? You asked.

I don’t know, he shrugged.

Last time you ate ?

Fri…Sat… I don’t know, he replied.

He seemed gaunt and, even if the shower seemed to have done some good, Marshall seemed like a corpse. He was standing there, staring at you, not extremely responsive. You had never seen him like this and it was definitely a far cry from his usual self. Ever since you had met him for the first time, you had found him to have an impressive presence. Whenever he walked into a room, he naturally drew attention to him and he had such charisma that he seemed bigger than he actually was. But for the first time, he looked weak and lost.

Are you hungry ? You asked.

A bit, he replied.

Sit, you said. I’ll prepare something. What do you want ? Pasta ?

Whatever, he said.

He sat on the couch and you made your way to the kitchen. Being the one responsible for his shopping, you knew the pantry like the back of your hand and knew exactly what was in there. You decided to make some homemade spaghetti, using Mom’s Spaghetti sauce with homemade garlic toasts. His lazy comfort food. When you brought his plate to the living room, he was manspreading, looking at the ceiling.

Thanks, he said as you handed him the food. Chips would have been enough, you know ?

You need to eat a real meal, you simply said.

He nodded and started to eat. You noticed he was avoiding your gaze. He usually didn’t have much trouble maintaining eye contact, except for when he was ashamed, or sad, or tired. In this case, you knew it was probably a mixture of everything. There was no doubt as to his exhaustion and sadness, and you knew he would feel ashamed for missing an important work meeting. You looked at him and left the room to go and call Paul.

So ? He asked. How is he ?

He’s… sick, you lied, knowing full well Marshall wouldn’t want you telling people how you had found him.

Sick ? The managed asked. What does he have ?

The flu, you said. It’s pretty nasty. I cleared up his schedule for the week. He needs rest. He’s really sorry about the meeting.

Alright. I’ll call him later, he said. Dre has to leave today, we’ll have to set up another meeting.

I’ll let him know.

You also texted Hailie to let her know you had managed to get ahold of her Dad. When you got back to Marshall, he was looking at a picture frame of him and Proof. From the looks of it, you guessed it was from 2005-2006. You sat next to him in silence.

The flu ? He asked in a raspy voice.

Couldn’t come up with anything better on the spot, you said. At least, it buys you the rest of the week so you can rest.

No need, he said. I can… I can work.

Bullshit, you sighed.

He stared in your eyes for the first time all day and sighed. His eyes went back to the picture frame and you could see hum swallow dryly.

Went was this taken ? You asked.

March 2006, he said in a breaking voice. It’s the last picture of him I have…

His breath was shaky and you could tell he was on the verge if tears. You placed a hand over his and gently stroked his skin.

It’s ok to cry, you know ? You said softly.

You weren’t too sure why you said that. Of course it was ok to cry. A man in his fifties, especially your boss, did not need your permission to cry. Or so you thought. Because as soon as the words left your lips, the tears started to flow and he started sobbing. You put a hand on his back and tried to soothe him while you saw his face redden and scrunch up, his tears wetting his face. It was painful seeing him like this and you wished there was something you could do. If that were possible, you would gladly take his pain and make it yours.

Fu-fuck, I-I’m sorry, he said after a while.

You have nothing to apologize for, you said gently. It’s ok. He was your best friend. It’s ok to be sad.

I-I fucked up…

It’s just a work meeting, you reminded him. We’ll set up another meeting with Dre, I’ll move a couple of appointments, it’s fine.

No, not… I-I…

He was trying to speak but he wasn’t making much sense. He was stuttering, his voice cracking, changing pitch… You put your arms around him, half-expecting him to push you away but he didn’t. You kept running a hand up and down his back to soothe him a bit and it seemed effective.

Thank you, Y/N, he said.

Were you like this all weekend ? You asked.

Yeah…

Is that why you told Hailie I was spending the weekend with you ?

I… Yeah, he said sheepishly. I didn’t want the kids to see me like this.

I see, you said. So… what ? You listened to his music, looked at pictures and lost track of time ?

I guess, he shrugged. I… I tried to go to his grave yesterday but it was packed.

I guess a lot of people miss him, you said.

No, it was… I saw them and they were wearing… My tee-shirts. My merch. They were my fans. On his grave. And it drove me fucking mad. Because I couldn’t even get out of my car, and I had to see these people pay respect but they were fans. They didn’t know him. And I saw the posts on social media. And people keep on making it about me.

His voice broke again. You had often had conversations with him about fame and how he was dealing with it. Most of the time, he was grateful for it, though he often gave the impression that he didn’t really get why he was famous and how people could look up to him so much. « It’s just me », he often said. Deep down, he only saw himself as a guy trying to make it in hip-hop, trying to be the best emcee. Fame was never really part of his plan, though he was grateful for the success and love of people granted him. But the way he was speaking, it seemed like less of a blessing and more of a curse. He explained to you that he felt guilty for people making Proof’s death about him. Sure, he was his best friend, but he was so much more, and he just wished people would respect his legacy and everything he meant to the hip-hop culture. He also felt guilty when he thought about Proof’s family, who didn’t only have to deal with a tragic loss but also his own fame, and always being asked questions about him.

His wife… She always hated me, you know ? He said. She hated all of us. Proof was never home, always either getting in trouble with us or trying to keep us out of it. Now we don’t speak too much and… I mean, I get it, I was his friend, not hers, but… I don’t know. I was supposed to be an uncle to his kids, you know ? I’m supposed to be there for them, not make things difficult. I’m supposed to be the one sending flowers, not receiving them in their place.

Do you keep in touch ? You asked.

I try, he said. I mean, if the kids need something, they know they can call. Sharonda too. She never would, she’s too proud but… Yeah, I just wish I could do more, you know ?

I know, you said. You shouldn’t feel guilty…

No, I should, he shrugged. When he died, I was a massive asshole about it… I mean, I guess I made it a lot about me. But now it makes me so mad. And sad. And I miss him so much and I just wish I could apologize to him.

For what ? You asked as you stroked his hand.

Everything, he shrugged. For being ungrateful and not seeing everything he did to hold down the fort. Proof… He was strong when I was weak. And I never got to tell him how thankful I am. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be making burgers.

I’m sure he knew how much you loved him, you said softly.

I hope, he said. He was everything to me… Like… We didn’t love each other like that, you know. Like, no homo or whatever. But sometimes I think he was the love of my life. In a platonic way. Like, he was my other half, the one who made me a better person. And now that he’s gone… I’m just me. And it’s hard.

You’re still pretty great, you said. And I know he would be proud of you.

I… I don’t know, he said.

He seemed lost in his thoughts. You realized you had been stroking his back the whole time and stopped. He turned to you with his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t even have to ask for you to resume. It was the first time the two of you had such a prolonged physical contact without it being sexual and you wondered if he noticed, too. He closed his eyes and you looked at him some more. He was clearly exhausted and you weren’t too sure how long he would need to sleep. Probably a long time.

You should go to bed, you said softly.

I guess, he shrugged.

You need rest, you insisted. I’ll do the dishes and go home, ok ? You can call me if you need anything.

Can you stay ? He asked nervously. I… I don’t feel like being… alone.

Sure, you said with a hint of surprise.

Ok.

He got up and headed upstairs. When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

You don’t want to come ?

Upstairs ? You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. To your… room ?

You said I needed to sleep, he pointed out. I’m not sleeping on the damn couch.

You shrugged and followed him. That was new. You had slept over a couple of times, but never in the same bed as him. The only circumstances in which you had seen his bedroom were strictly sexual. But as soon as the deed was done, he wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you. And even when you had slept with him during work trips, you’d been back to your own room after. It was one of the many ways in which he could be guarded and you knew it had nothing to do with you. He just had his quirky, peculiar ways. He got in bed and looked at you intently.

Come, he said.

Ok, you said as you sat next to him.

Remove your socks, he instructed.

I’m not removing my socks, you said. My feet are cold.

You’re not getting in my bed with your dirty socks, he pointed out.

I just put them on this morning, you said. They’re not dirty.

It’s a pet peeve, he said. Just… Socks off, ok ? And get under the covers.

You scoffed. If he was in a good enough state to be oddly specific - as he often was about practically everything in his life - it was a good sign. You took your socks off and sat in bed, under the covers. It felt weird but Marshall didn’t seem to pick on it. He simply laid there and stared at you.

You’re not laying down ? He finally asked.

Um… Sitting is fine, you said.

Can you lie down, please ? He asked.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow but still did as you were told. As soon as you laid down next to him, he closed his eyes. Given how exhausted he looked, you half-expected him to fall asleep right then and there but he didn’t. Instead, he kept on tossing and turning.

What’s up ? You asked. Do you need anything ?

I think it’s the Redbull, he said. I haven’t drank much else in days. It’s keeping me awake.

Oh, you said. Let’s talk, then.

About what ? He asked.

I don’t know, you shrugged. We can talk about anything. What’s up with the cleared schedule on iCloud ? Did you do that ?

Yeah… I don’t know, he said sheepishly. I… I went to the cemetery yesterday and when I couldn’t go and had to go home, I guess I lost it. There were these thoughts in my head and… I’m not sure I can do it anymore. Without Proof it’s… too hard.

Tears were welling in his eyes again. It had been more than fifteen years since Proof’s passing and Marshall had put out quite a few albums in that time, but the wound still seemed fresh. It wasn’t a matter of his technical ability to do it without Proof - of course he could - it was about whether or not he wanted to.

Ok, you said.

Ok ? He asked.

What do you want me to say ? You asked. Do you want me to plead for you to keep going ? I’m not going to. If you want to quit and retire, that’s ok, you’re allowed.

Really ?

I mean… Yeah, you said simply. It’s your decision. If you think you don’t have anything else to bring to the table, that’s fine. You’ve had a good run and a career people can only dream of having. If you decide to put an end to it, that’s fine.

Wait… No, he said. I mean, your job is to talk me out of it. Is that some reverse psychology thing ?

It’s Paul’s job to talk you out of it, you clarified. Me, I’m just a personal assistant. My job is to manage your schedule and make life easier for you. Whether or not you put out music, my job’s fine as long as you need me to do your shopping, come to football games with you and remind you of your dentist’s appointments. Next one is in two months by the way.

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. His face was still puffy and he still didn’t look his best, but hearing him laugh - however lightly - was good. He was a great person and you hated seeing him like this. Of all the people you had ever met, he was the one who had suffered the most, and deserved it the least. He was a good, hardworking, honest and generous man, on top of being one of the most talented people ever. His sadness was breaking your heart. If his career was making him sad, if keeping on going without Proof was too hard, he should be allowed to quit. He had earned it and, in your opinion, he didn’t have anything left to prove to anyone.

So you don’t care whether I end my career or not ? He asked with an amused look.

As a fan, I think it would be tragic, you said. Especially If you don’t put out that last album. It’s your best work so far. But as a person… What I care about is you, Marshall. I’m in the front row, seeing how hard you work every day. If you say that’s too hard, then that’s too hard and I trust you on that. If you think you’ll be happier doing something else, just enjoying life with your family and focusing on your charity, you should do that.

Proof would kick my ass for thinking of quitting, he said pensively.

I think Proof would want you to be happy, you pointed out.

He hummed and looked at you. He brought a hand to your face and stroked your face as a single tear rolled on his cheek. You smiled and wiped the tear, letting your hand cup his face. You stared at each other in silence. It was unusual but, oddly enough, not uncomfortable.

Thank you for staying, Y/N, he simply said before letting out a small yawn.

You should really try and get some sleep, you replied softly.

He nodded and closed his eyes as you heard him take deep breaths. A couple of minutes later, he was asleep. You could hear him snore lightly. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was only 1PM. You figured you’d stay there for a while and let him sleep while you answered a couple of e-mails. After a couple of hours, Marshall was still sleeping soundly. You thought you might as well do some tidying up in the house, but as soon as you tried to move, you felt his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You smiled to yourself as you realized it was the first time you actually cuddled with him - and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. Your back was against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. This and the sensation of his arm around you were incredibly soothing and you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute.

(…)

Marshall groaned as you gently shook his shoulder to try and wake him up. He scrunched up his nose and let out a few obscenities. He looked pissed off as he opened his eyes.

What time is it ? He groaned.

About 7PM, you said.

You better have a good reason to wake me up, he sighed.

I think I do. You have clothes on your bed and ten minutes to get changed, ok ?

I’m not getting dressed, and I’m not going out, he said with an eye roll.

And I’m not giving you a choice, you said with a smile. Get up. Please. You won’t regret it.

You made your way downstairs and prepared a bottle of water and a snack for Marshall as you waited for him. When he arrived, he looked a bit puzzled. He was still clearly tired but he looked a lot better. You made him get in your car and drove to the cemetery. You had called ahead of time and asked if they would do you a favor and keep the place open for a couple more hours. You used the « Marshall Mathers » card, which always worked when it came to getting a table at a fancy restaurant, borrowing a private jet or keeping a store open when Marshall needed to shop for his daughters’ birthday.

What are we doing here ? He asked as you parked out front.

You know what we’re doing here, you said. It’s after hours and you get to pay your respects in peace.

You… You arranged for this ?

I did, you said. They’ll be open until 8:30PM. I’m sorry, I didn’t find a florist open, though.

He looked at you in shock and immediately engulfed you in a hug before whispering a « thank you » in your ear before getting out of the car. An hour later, you were leaning on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette when Marshall came back. He seemed more at peace. You could tell he had cried - as people often do when they’re visiting someone’s grave - but he seemed alright nonetheless. He walked up to you and took you by surprise by kissing you. Contrary to all the kisses you’d shared until now, this one wasn’t greedy, hungry or passionate. It was tender and soft. Intimate and emotional.

A-Are you alright ? You asked.

Yeah, he hummed. Thank you for taking me.

You’re welcome, you said with a smile.

Ready to go ? He asked.

Almost, you said as you pointed to your cigarette - knowing full well the hatred he had of your smoking habit.

The drive home was a bit weird. You had kissed before but this felt different. You had always enjoyed his kisses but this one was, by far, your favorite. You felt a little guilty for enjoying it so much. If you were honest with yourself, it was a little scary, too. The only reason you had managed not to catch feelings for Marshall was because he was usually guarded and there were a lot of boundaries. But after today, after seeing him this open and vulnerable, you weren’t too sure you could go back to having casual sex with him. It would be too dangerous.

Did you know Proof’s family would be there ? He asked as you parked in front of his place.

Were they ? You asked in surprise. No, I didn’t.

The cemetery must have called them, then, he shrugged.

I’m sorry, you said. I insisted that you have your privacy…

It’s fine, he said. I talked to Sharonda. Nasaan was here too.

How did it go ?

Pretty well, he said. I’m seeing them later this week. Over dinner.

That’s great, you replied with a smile. I’m happy for you.

Thank you Y/N, he said emotionally. For everything you always do for me. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to get through life without you. You put up with me, you make life bearable… And… Thank you for today, especially.

You’re welcome, you said with a small smile.

He cupped your face and kissed you again. You leaned into the kiss more than you should. A part of you knew that you should push him away… But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after he had such a hard day. So you kissed him back and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue caressing yours, of his fingers in your hair.

Now, you should go and get some rest, you said softly.

Are you coming ? He asked as he stroked your cheek.

Do you need me ?

Y/N… I always need you.

And just like that… You knew you were screwed. You felt an army of butterflies in your stomach and your brain was nowhere to be found. It had left the chat as soon as you heard Marshall’s soft voice say he needed you. You were unable to think so your emotions took over as you exited the car and got inside the house, his hand in yours.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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backmuscles21 · 2 months

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Watching You

Tsu'tey x Reader

Summary: He loves you, but he doesn't know if you like him back. When he sees you sneaking off, he just wants to ensure your safety. He comes across something that would hurt him way more than it would hurt you.

Warnings - mild sexual content, voyeurism, masturbation, suggestive themes, peeping tom Tsu'tey

You didn’t miss a lot from your human life, there wasn’t anything that was more important than living on Pandora. You found yourself not missing your clothes, electricity or other personal artifacts. You just loved being here and being with the people and seeing everything this gorgeous place had to offer. However, you had to admit, if you had to pick one thing that you missed it would be technology. What you missed the most was your phone and not because you wanted to text old friends or look at photos or Google things. It was only for the music; you didn’t mind the songs here but you missed your different genres and English.

You missed throwing on a Playlist and dancing and singing your heart out regardless of how well you could sing it. You just wanted to throw on a Playlist and dance around the forest, singing the songs was okay but having the real thing is better. You wanted the beat, you wanted the fast-paced songs, and you wanted to dance without having to worry about singing as well.

So, when you went to the lab to visit some of the scientists, you ended up talking with Norm about some experiments they were doing on some of the flora. You ended up going to your old bunk from when you were still linking in, it was only recently that you got permanently put into this body. You looked at some of your old stuff, none of which you really missed. Then you came across your phone, you pressed the power button. Dead, of course, it would be, it’s been over a year since you’ve touched it. You left your room and brought it out to Norm to see if he could charge it for you.

He smiled and said he’d see what he could do, the thought alone of listening to some of your favourite songs again made you smile. You left the lab that day making a mental note to head over tomorrow to see if it was fully charged. You walked back into the village to see Jake with his kids, you waved to them as you continued on. That's when you heard the call of the warriors coming back, they just got back from a successful hunt. You watched as Tsu’tey rode in on his dire horse, he looked gorgeous as always.

He got off his mount and helped the rest of the warriors carry in their spoils. You tried to make it look not super obvious that you were drooling over him. You kept trying to look away, you watched as girls ran up to their mates and hugged them. You wished to do that with Tsu’tey but he would never, not with a sky demon or so you thought. He would never admit it but he grew to like you a lot, he loved your will, your strive and your passion. He liked to watch you as much as you watched him, it just never happened to overlap.

You kept moving to head back to finish your chores for the day, you couldn’t wait to sneak off into the forest tomorrow and dance around.

When you woke up the next day, you couldn’t wait to get to the lab to get that phone. You thought of the songs you’d listen to first and the ones you’d dance to. You raced to the lab to see Norm, he caught sight of you and smiled at you, he knew what you were here for.

“I got it.”

You gave him a big smile, the happiness spread across your face.

“Thank you, Norm.”

“Once a city girl, always a city girl.”

“I am full Na’vi. I don’t miss it. I just miss my music.”

“I’ve heard your music. Your taste is terrible.”

“Oh yeah, 'cause it’s sooo much better than yours.”

“It always will be.”

You started to head out, “you wish.”

“No, you wish your music was as good as mine.”

“Mine's better and it always will be. At least mine won’t put you to sleep.”

“At least mine wouldn’t give me a heart attack.”

You laughed as you opened the airlock, “bye Norm. Thank you.”

“You know it,” Norm said as you closed the door.

You started to walk off into the forest, the device was small in your Na’vi hands. You pulled up your music app and looked through your songs, even seeing the titles made you giddy. You started to look through some of your favourite songs to dance to. You ran off deeper into the forest, you wanted some privacy, and you knew that your English songs wouldn’t be understood. Not to mention the beat and the words would be so foreign to the native Na’vis, that you didn’t want anyone to be angry at you.

You found a good secluded spot and you chose a song, one of your favourites that was fun to dance to and good to get back to dancing. Your dancing could be very reminiscent of both club dancing and professionally choreographed moves. You just did what you felt from the songs, you were having fun, and you moved your legs, arms, body, hips, and waist. You had dropped to the forest floor and did some fun floor work, rolling to your back and getting back up.

You felt the adrenaline coursing, you were having the time of your life dancing around like you used to. After several songs, you felt tired, you were breathing deeply and you decided to head back to your home. This was the first of many trips out to the forest to dance and to the lab to recharge the phone. One thing you didn’t pick up on was the man who watched you every night run off into the forest and the fact that he was getting antsy to find out what you were doing.

It was about a week ago that Tsu’tey caught on to you running off into the forest when you had free time later in the day. He wanted to know what you were doing, what was going on, and if you were okay or not. He decided to follow you, it was in your best interest, at least that’s what he told himself. He has liked you for a while and wanted to start courting you, but for the first time in his life, he was a coward. You were so amazing and so bright and beautiful; he couldn’t face your possible rejection.

He followed you from a distance, still enough to see you but ensuring that you wouldn’t catch sight of him. He watched you set a small black rectangle onto the ground, he watched as you pressed it a few times and then he heard a sound come out. The sound was something he’d never heard before and something he couldn’t understand. He knew you were a sky demon, so he imagined that this was something from your world and that whatever he was hearing was something you enjoyed which was evident by your facial expression.

Then he watched as your body moved, he scanned your whole body and his eyes landed on your hips, they watched your hips intensely. Tsu’tey would never call himself a pervert, but right now he felt just as dirty as one. For what he was doing, he was invading your privacy, but he couldn’t look away, your body was just too enticing. His eyes moved as your hips did, he watched you move from side to side, it was turning him on big time and he had to stop but he couldn’t pull away. He wanted to court you properly, give you a choice, give you a fair chance to accept him and offer yourself to him. He didn’t want to touch himself while he watched you dance around and sing these songs. He knew what you were doing to him, he knew how turned on he was watching your body, and he was resisting his primal urges. However, he couldn’t resist forever, his eyes barely blinked, and he didn’t want to not see you move.

He knew this felt wrong, he knew he was terrible to do this, and he knew the great mother was watching him do this foul act, but he just couldn’t help himself. He slowly took his erect cock out and slowly stroked it, it felt so good to give himself some sort of relief. Your body didn’t stop moving, the sounds would change and you’d dance differently, your dancing was so much sexier than what he’d seen other Na’vi women do. He was happy that he noticed you left and that he decided to follow you.

He kept stroking himself, squeezing lightly, his eyes wouldn’t leave your body. His breaths were low and shallow, he was whimpering slightly, and he was so turned on. He had never done this before or wanted to do this, but you did things to him, terrible things. You made his most primal desires heightened, he wanted more of you, and you made him want to mate with you right here right now.

Luckily, your music covered up his sounds and Tsu’tey was a hunter he was good at staying hidden and quiet. You were moving your body so fast and you were not surveying your area, you’d never had seen him. However, Tsu’tey wasn’t hunting, he wasn’t being smart, he was horny, and he wasn’t careful. You saw someone’s leg, you saw the blue skin of a Na’vi, and you moved around enough to see this person’s face, it was Tsu’tey. Did you have a major crush on him, yes, was him watching you turning you on, yes.

You watched his face a little more, his facial expressions told you a little of what might be happening. You almost didn’t believe what your brain was telling you, the Na’vi didn’t seem like the type, and Tsu’tey didn’t seem like the type. But you were for sure, this man was touching himself while watching you dance, it boosted your ego. Your crush was turned on by you dancing your heart out, your crush liked you back.

You decided to stop, your back was to him, another song started, yet you stood still.

“You enjoying the show big boy.”

You saw his ears perk up at you speaking to him, this was the first thing he understood this whole time. He tucked himself away and stood up, he looked at you, trying to hide his shame.

“Never thought you’d be a peeping tom.”

“I don’t understand.”

You walked closer up to him, your hands resting firmly on his shoulders, “I didn’t think you’d like me back.”

You watched his face drop, the only thought through his head was the fact that you confessed to him, that you liked him.

“I wanted to court you officially. I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know. That’s okay. I like that.”

“You do?”

“I like anything that has to do with you.”

#avatar the way of water #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey #avatar 2009 #avatar

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

Text

You're Safe

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!wife!SWAT!reader

Summary: Being on the same S.W.A.T. team as your husband provides plenty of opportunities to protect one another and share words of affirmation.

Warnings: quick fight scene, nondescript injuries, super fluffy!! kind of a suggestive joke but not really? it's married flirting so it's fine I think

Word Count: 1.2k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

You trust every member of 20-David, but when you feel Deacon’s hand tap your shoulder before a raid, you are especially protected. Knowing that he has your back, he’s right beside you, makes you happy.

“Two, two, two,” Street yells.

Rushing into the house, you and Deacon break off to go right while the rest of your team goes in their assigned direction.

“30-David, right side clear,” Deacon radios.

“22-David, left side clear.”

“20-David, we’re Code 4. Suspect isn’t here,” Hondo alerts.

Deacon turns toward you, reaching out with his left hand as he lowers his weapons. You take his hand, nodding to let him know you’re okay. Though you can’t feel it, you know his wedding ring is under his glove.

“You did great,” Deacon says, leading you back toward the door. “Point is a good position for you.”

“You just like the view when you follow me inside,” you argue playfully.

Deacon shrugs before chuckling.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you reply. “You’re the best officer I’ve ever worked with.”

“She has to say that,” Hondo adds, returning from the kitchen. “It was in the wedding contract.”

“That’s called a pre-nup,” Street jokes.

“Look at them, they wouldn’t get a pre-nup, playboy,” Luca replies.

“Guys!” you call, shaking your head. “We have a suspect to find. Remember?”

“You started it,” Street grumbles.

“Mrs. Kay is right,” Hondo says. He tilts his head to the side, clearly in thought, before he asks, “Should we give one of you a nickname, since you’re both Kays?”

“Deacon already has one.” You raise your hands in confusion, looking between your husband and team leader.

“But, your nametags say Kay,” Hondo continues. “What about ‘Kay’ and ‘Prettier Kay'?”

“Sure,” you answer quickly. “Now, can we go?”

“I agree. I mean, I love to talk about how amazing she is, but we need to find this guy,” Deacon reminds everyone.

“Yep. C’mon, Prettier Kay,” you say over your shoulder as you walk toward the door.

“Oh, I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Hondo complains.

“Let’s go!” you yell.

✯✯✯✯✯

Sitting beside Deacon in Black Betty, you lean against his shoulder. Being physically affectionate isn’t always something you want or need, so you and Deacon show your affection with your words more often, complimenting and trusting one another and reminding your better half that you have his back while knowing he has yours.

Watching your spouse risk their life is never easy; you and Deacon are good at your jobs, and working side-by-side eliminates the fear of not knowing, the majority of the time, at least.

“You’ve got this,” you tell Deacon. “I’m with you.”

“I’ve got it because you’re with me. And I’m with you, too,” Deacon replies.

“Anything I can do better?”

Deacon rolls his eyes as he smiles. “Yeah, don’t ever doubt yourself.”

“I was hoping you’d say, ‘tell your husband you love him every thirty seconds’ or something like that.”

“If it wasn’t a tactical no-no, he wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I guess I’ll have to stick to telling him before and after and show him in between.”

“Who needs to worry about motion sickness when you have to listen to this?” Tan asks.

“One day, Tan, you’ll know what it’s like to be in love, and then we will pay you back for every single one of these comments,” Deacon responds.

“You too, Street,” you add before he can jump in.

“We’re here!” Luca announces, parking a few blocks from the residence on the no-knock warrant.

“Luca, you’re with me, we’re breaching the one side,” Hondo explains. “Tan, Street, you’re three side. Deacon and Kay, take the four side. We clear and meet in the middle. Stay liquid!”

You nod, pulling your helmet down over your face before following Deacon to the western side of the house, waiting at his side as he sets an explosive on the door.

“20-David, breach!” Hondo radios.

The door blows open, and you tap Deacon’s shoulder before following him into the kitchen. You cover him while he clears the kitchen and pantry before he covers the hallway as you check the bedrooms. When you open the last door, the suspect lunges toward you, knocking you back into the hallway and against the wall. You keep him at arm’s length, twisting as you push him.

“LAPD S.W.A.T., on your knees!” Deacon yells.

“Don’t think he’s gonna do that,” you grunt, raising a foot before you push off the wall, slamming him into the door he exited.

When the door falls from its hinges, you collapse onto the suspect, pinning him between your body and the door. Moving your knee to hold his legs down, Deacon moves beside you, aiming his weapon as he demands for the suspect to remain still.

“You body slammed me!” the suspect groans.

“Yeah, well, he told you to stop,” you reply breathlessly.

“Prettier Kay,” Hondo says as he approaches. “Well done.”

“I want a lawyer!” the suspect yells.

“Oh, you’ll get one,” Hondo guarantees, hauling the suspect to his feet after you move to the side.

Kneeling on the bedroom floor, you remove your helmet and take a few deep breaths. Deacon ensures the rest of the team has the suspect under control before he joins you.

“That was amazing, Prettier Kay,” he compliments, brushing his knuckles over your cheekbone.

“Thank you,” you reply. “You make everything better. Especially when you keep someone from attacking me again.”

“I appreciate that, but you impress me daily.”

“Keep talking,” you request, catching your breath. “You’re safe.”

“I love you,” Deacon says. “And I want to be a safe spot for you until… for forever.”

“I said talk to me, not make me cry, Deacon. Help me up?”

Deacon chuckles as he pulls you up, wrapping an arm around your waist to lead you to Black Betty.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“Just knocked the breath out of me. Kinda like you do every time you smile, just with a whole lot more force.”

“You should still get checked out.”

“That’s part of your job, Prettier Kay.”

Hondo, however, forces you to allow a medic to examine you before you can return to HQ. Deacon stays by your side, complimenting your fighting after each question you answer.

✯✯✯✯✯

After you change, allowing Deacon to press an ice pack to your back for a few minutes, you return to the S.W.A.T. common area.

“Hondo, can we go home?” you ask.

He glances at his watch before nodding. “Are you that ready to get away from us?”

“Yes,” you answer honestly.

“I think we deserve some free time after that incredible takedown,” Deacon adds.

“Get out of here. As long as I don’t have to hear this, I don’t care where you go,” Hondo teases. “Good job,” he calls after you, “glad you’re okay.”

“I’m okay because of you, Deacon. Thank you,” you tell him.

“I love to do it. I love you.”

Wrapping your arms over Deacon’s shoulder, you kiss him until you’re breathless because of him.

“Do it all again tomorrow?” he asks, gently rubbing your back.

“Every single part of it. Especially this part, though.”

Deacon turns away to grab your bag so you can go home, and you add, “I love you, and I’m glad I get to spend this much time by your side.”

“I enjoy it more than you do, this is my favorite place to be,” Deacon promises. “I love you, more than I could ever say.”

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay fluff #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader

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