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#like if i had to make a self insert I would make him give me a job & life advice that's it
marcsnuffy · 6 months
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Divorce era ended I see
The implication that we were married in the first place is hilarious to me
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torgawl · 2 years
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slightly disappointed - just slightly - that they didn't include fischl in the windblume event because she would fit the legend/fairytale category of the charade so much?!
#how did they not remember the person that actually lives in one?#logically it would make sense okay 😂#i hope we get to see the other mondstadt characters even for a second at the end#jean barbara fischl kaeya diona and diluc the excluded ones ✌️#like i don't care about timmaeus and his crush sorry give me characters i care about (mona was so real for interrupting him yes queen <3)#okay sorry timmaeus i hope you succeed in romancing her 😔#i think you're a great addition to the synthesis thingie when i need to make materials the game wouldn't be the same without you 😔#on another note!!! i love when genshin's events or quests are like therapy sessions like yes thanks for teaching us about anxiety and#struggles with self identity and how sharing our problems with others isn't a burden and how being vulnerable will allow us to create#meaningful connections and relate to others around us that only through connection and being able to see other people we are able to#fight the feeling of alienation we had in the first place and gain a new found confidence!!! like yes. trauma holds us back and can#influence the way we interact with others around us and follow us for so much time but we can also thrive regardless!!!!#genshin lore is so good but also the way this game helps us find peace regarding so many things we all struggle with is beautiful methinks#a lot of the struggles the characters face in the game are related to the fantasy world their inserted to sure but they're also still#incredibly relatable to the most common person if we strip down that fantasy layer#i think it's about being seen and understood feeling less lonely and also seeing others through less of a 1st person lense about finding#beauty and significante in diversity#but anyways rant over#i'm having fun with windblume and i love events like this where we just get to revisit characters and see them have a good time with each#other!!! it's so comforting plus mondstadt looks so pretty
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starryylies · 6 months
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I would kill for a baby fever Simon.Just imagine him constantly rubbing and caressing your empty stomach anywhere and anytime.And kisses on soft tummy.
AAAAA bby fever si makes me feel so wifey
I hope you like it ~^^
* ੈ✩‧₊˚simon with bby fever * ੈ✩‧₊˚.
ꕥꕤꕥꕤ���ꕥꕤꕥꕤ
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🍼. Simon whose free hand always reaches your soft tummy as he rubs it making it feel all warm and bubbly :3
🍼. Simon who wakes up with a raging boner after he dreams of getting your belly all big and full with his cum
🍼. Simon who tracks your cycle- buys you chocolate, crisps and hot cocoa
🍼. Simon almost becomes primal when you’re ovulating, pinning you down, ripping your clothes off, his hot breath on your neck.
🍼. Simon who sneaks on you from the back grabbing your waist as his arms find their way to your tum as he just stands there and grabs you the entire time as he watches you cook.
🍼. Simon who pins you down at the bed as he blows raspberries on your cheeks trailing down to your stomach as he rests his heavy head on your stomach whispering I love you’s.
🍼. Simon who has already picked out baby names. The sons name being Tommy with the girls name being aster or procy (self insert sorry)
🍼. Simon who knows that he will never give his son/daughter the childhood he had
🍼. Simon whose heart skips a beat when you ask him to create a family with you.
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katstarry · 2 months
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no one noticed
eddie munson x reader
part i
masterlist ☆
part ii | part iii
summary: being paired up for a project with eddie leads to a beautiful friendship, it's inevitable that you gain a crush.
warnings: PINING, slow burn, fluff, slight self-deprecating thoughts?, reader is an academic achiever/seeks academic validation kinda (self insert lmaoo), reader has long hair, the upside down doesn't exist here, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: this is longer than i expected it to be, maybe i'll even make a small series of this :3 lmk if you guys would be interested!
feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆
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the morning started out as it always does.
your alarm wakes you up, you get ready for school, say goodbye to your mom, and maybe grab a quick snack before heading out and driving to school. the usual routine.
it's your senior year, it's supposed to be the best year of high school. though, so far it has been very disappointing. you blame yourself for not being as extroverted as you hoped to be during your freshman year, now you don't have as many friends as middle school you had envisioned.
but you do have robin.
she's been your closest friend throughout the years, having met her in freshman year in the library, where you spent your lunchtime at, and you're okay with just having one close friend. you've come to peace with that. robin has been the bestest friend you've ever had, she's became a confidant, and you never have to put up a front with her. it's easy to talk to her, she has that sort of power somehow. what usually takes you a few weeks to become comfortable with someone new, it had only been a mere few days before being totally comfortable with robin.
as you walk into the school, you walk to your locker, seeing her right beside it.
"hey robin," you smile at her as she moves out the way for you, "good morning."
she returns your smile with her shoulder to the locker beside your own, one bookbag strap hanging from the other, "goood morning!"
you grab the materials you need for the first class of the day, "what's got you so happy this early?" you yawn.
robin shrugs, "can't a woman just be happy to see her best friend?"
rolling your eyes playfully, "of course you can!" you smirk at her, closing the locker and adjusting your bag on your shoulder, "...but maybe it has to do with a certain bandmate of yours?" you whisper.
she gasps, whispering back, "what! no. definitely not, definitely did not talk to her just a few minutes ago."
you laugh as the bell rings, signaling the start of the day.
"guess i'll see you at lunch?"
she nods, "can we go to the cafeteria today instead of the library? forgot my lunch today, woke up late."
you both begin to walk to the direction of your classes, "yeah that's fine, see you there!" giving her a side hug, you both go your separate ways.
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it's now your class before lunch, history.
the day has felt longer than usual. you can't wait for it to be over and have your after school nap.
dropping your bag beside your desk, you sit and take out your notebook for the class.
the other students come walking in, he sits in his usual spot behind you.
you sit up straighter, god i'm so embarrassing.
usually, you hate having to have people sit behind you. it always feels like their watching your every move. of course, it's not true, but you can't help but think it. it's why you always sit in the back. but unfortunately, those seats were taken when you had walked in the first day of this class.
it's even worse when you think the person behind you is cute.
you move your hair to your shoulders, hoping it covers the sight to your notebook. you're just shading in the margins.
you look up when the teacher gets up from his desk, class is about to start.
"alright class, let's get started."
he walks over to the door and shuts it, and begins taking attendance.
"well, for today it'll be fairly easy. you won't hear me talk much today," the class let's out sighs of relief, the jocks who get along with him laugh playfully, "alright, alright. you won't be doing that after what i tell you."
oh no. you already know what he's about to say.
"we'll be doing a project! you'll be grouped up in pairs." immediately people begin to look at one another, already knowing who they want to be paired with, you look around, you don't really talk to anyone in that class. though, nancy wheeler has been kind to you, hopefully she'd want to pair up with you. but probably not, since barb and jonathan is in this class too. you can still hope though. any of them!
"before you get excited, i'll be the one assigning groups. it'll be at random."
now, the class really does let out sounds of disappointment and dissatisfaction.
"i told you, you wouldn't like it!" he laughs and clears his throat and goes back to his desk, grabbing a piece of paper and going back to leaning on his podium.
"alright, let's see here." he goes on to list the pairings, you anxiously wait for your name to be called.
please. please, please, pair me with nancy. or barb. or jonathan.
"nancy wheeler and-" please! "barbara holland."
well, okay. that's fine, who else is left? you'd been so caught up in waiting for your name that you hadn't kept up with who was called and who hasn't. jonathan! he hasn’t been called yet. please, please, please-
"y/n l/n and-" oh shit, that's you. "eddie munson."
oh shit, he's behind you.
the girl in front of you turns around and whispers to you, "good luck."
should you turn around? if you don't what if he thinks you're upset about being paired with him? you should probably turn around, the teacher keeps listing names, and you look back briefly.
he's already looking at you and you awkwardly make eye contact; you give a small smile and turn back around. okay that wasn't so bad right? dang it. you've tried your hardest to not talk to him. but if you think someone's cute you should want to talk to them, right? wrong. you never know what to say when you like someone, how can you even like someone without talking to them? you don't know, but it happened anyway. and now you're basically being forced to talk to him.
robin's going to love this.
"okay, now that you know who your partners are, i'll talk about what this project will be about. you and your partners will come up with a topic, it'll have to be a significant part of history. you'll make a presentation where both will have to speak in front of the class. you can bring in photos, poster boards, anything to aid the presentations. it's not necessary, but it could earn you extra points!"
he looks over to the clock on the wall, "... i'll give you until the end of class, which is about," he looks down to his wristwatch to double check, "40 minutes from now, to come up with a topic, come to my desk to let me know you've come up with something before leaving class, please."
clapping his hands together, he sighs, "alright! pair up!"
everyone begins to move to be with their partners, darn it. all you have to do is turn around. it's not that big a deal. as nervous as you are to talk to eddie, your grade matters more than a silly crush.
you turn around in your seat, grabbing your notebook and putting it in your lap. finally looking up you see him tapping his pencil on his desk, also looking up. the awkward eye contact again, awkward to you at least.
okay. maybe you can fail one project.
who are you kidding, your parents would look at you crazy if you came home with a failing grade.
"hey." you finally say, giving him another shy smile. god damn it why are you so awkward.
he nods, "hey." he leans onto his elbows, looking away, "it's alright if you wanna switch partners y'know? or if you wanna work alone, or something."
you look at him in surprise, "no! it's fine. i don't mind working with you, sorry if i gave that impression." furrowing your eyebrows, dang it maybe your nervousness made him think that.
he looks back to you, "really? i wouldn't want to bring your grade down, straight A student." he smiles. okay, now he's just messing with you.
you can't help the heat that rushes to your cheeks, so he must know about you then? how does he know that?
"funny that you think i would let that happen." you laugh.
he leans back onto his chair, arms now crossed on the table. "alright then, are you sure you wanna be my partner, then?" he looks at you, eyebrows raised.
"yes, i'm sure." you now lean on his desk, arms also crossed.
"do you have any ideas for our topic?" you grab the notebook from your lap, grab a pencil, and put it in between you both on the desk.
he sits up now, leaning on the desk, mirroring your actions.
oh no, he's close now, breathe.
he scratches the back of his neck, "uh... not really."
"alright, that's fine. uhm," you look at the clock, "we have about 35? 30? minutes, so we have time. we should just pick a few things and then we can pick the one we like best, yeah?" you write in your notebook, ideas, and underline it. you look back up and find eddie looking down at your notebook before looking back up as well.
"yeah, that sounds like a good idea."
you tap your pencil and bite your lip, thinking.
"hmm... we could do like the great depression or something." you murmur and write it down.
as you have your head down to write it, you miss eddie's panicked gaze. he's never really had much care for these types of things since usually whoever he's partnered with doesn't even bother talking to him and do it all themselves, doesn't even give him the chance to contribute. he quickly tries to think so that he can add something too.
"uh, the- what about the american revolution? or something? i dunno."
you look back up, "yeah! you wanna write that?"
you offer the pencil to him, "sure." he takes it, turning the notebook towards him, feeling a bit insecure about his handwriting compared to yours that's above his own. it isn't the neatest, and he never really cared about it, but he can't help it when you look at him like that.
the rest of the time goes by like that, going back and forth with ideas, your notebook page filled with both your handwriting.
"okay, we have like 10 minutes left. do you have a favorite?"
you tilt your head as you wait for an answer.
"uh," he bites his lip as he looks down at the list, "the invention of the printing press?" to be honest he just picked a random one.
"cool! i'm alright with that." you smile as you put a small star beside the idea.
"hmm... would you want to do a poster board? or anything?"
no, honestly he would not. but he looks at you and can tell that you really would, anything that would earn extra points, right? he smiles.
"i wouldn't mind it. i could buy the stuff for it." he doesn't have the money for it, but he'll just have to sell more of his stuff for it.
"really? no that's okay, i'm the one that wanted to do it."
"nooo," he gives you a pointed look, playfully scolding you, "i'll buy it. what do we need for that?" he plays with the end of his hair twisting it in front of his face. a nervous habit of his, you make him nervous. not that you realize.
"well, the board, some markers, we could use mine since i already have some, and some glue. we could print out the stuff we need at the library, once we find out whatever we need to print."
"alrighty then. we made a lot of progress today then, huh? i'm the best partner you could have! we're really an unstoppable duo, right here." he puts his hand up for a high-five.
you give him the high-five, ignoring the tingly feeling on your hand, and it wasn't from the impact.
"oh yeah, totally." you laugh.
"i don't like that tone." he squints at you.
"what do you mean? i'm serious! we are the best duo." you smile.
"alright, i believe you." he smiles and stretches.
the bell rings, and it feels like suddenly the day went by too fast now.
you stand and grab your things, writing your names on an index card and the topic for the project.
eddie stands as well, about to say something but you beat him to it.
"let's go turn in our topic."
he usually is out the door when they do this, okay.
you both walk to the teachers desk, you smile and give him the index card.
he takes it and looks up with a smile, "great topic!" he looks over at eddie, "hopefully she rubs off on you!"
you frown and look over at eddie, who gives him a sarcastic smile and nod.
you both walk out the classroom, "do you have lunch after this?" he asks.
you stop in your tracks, about to walk to the cafeteria to meet robin.
"yeah i do, do you?"
"yup." he smiles and walks beside you, making your way to the cafeteria.
"y'know i was always scared to talk to you." he gives you a side eye, before looking straight again.
"what? of me?" you look over at him incredulously.
"oh, totally. thought you were scary, y'know being a smarty pants and all."
ah, so he's messing with you. again.
"ha ha," you roll your eyes, though you're smiling, "very funny."
"you know those candies? what're they called? smarties? yeah, that's you."
"what? it's a candy!" you laugh.
"so? that's still you."
"okay, okay. i'm not that smart alright?" you shake your head, still smiling. you can't stop smiling.
he looks at you like you're crazy. "you're kidding, right? don't you have like, the highest grade in the class?"
you shrug, feeling shy. "could be better, though."
the cafeteria is in view now, and you desperately need to change the subject. "well, guess this is where we go our separate ways." you sigh dramatically.
"i guess so." he breaks eye contact and looks around, "you could uh, sit at our table. if you want."
"oh! uh... i wouldn't want to bother-" "you wouldn't be."
you smile at him and he swears he can hear his heat beating out his chest right now.
"thank you. but i was gonna meet with my friend robin. i'll see you tomorrow in class, though."
"right, yeah, that's fine. see you tomorrow." he opens the door to the cafeteria and dramatically makes way for you to pass through.
you wave him goodbye as he makes way to his groups table, you see robin at your usual spot.
oh you aren't going to hear the end of this.
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cowboybeepboop · 1 month
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Wild ride
"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."
You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 5206
Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.
a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!
When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.
But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.
As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.
“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.
“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.
We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.
The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.
You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.
”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.
”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.
“What?” you clench your jaw.
“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.
”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.
”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.
”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.
”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.
”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.
“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.
Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.
There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.
You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.
“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.
”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.
As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.
“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.
“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.
“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.
Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.
A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”
In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.
There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.
“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”
You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.
“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.
It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.
It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.
As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.
”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.
”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.
“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.
“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.
Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.
“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.
“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.
“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.
“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”
“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.
“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.
“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.
“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”
“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”
Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.
Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”
“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.
Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.
He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.
A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.
Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.
You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.
“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.
“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.
“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.
“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.
“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.
Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.
“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.
Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.
A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.
“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.
“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.
Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.
A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.
Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.
“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.
Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.
Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.
“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.
“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.
Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.
“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.
“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.
Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.
“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”
He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.
“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.
Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.
“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.
“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.
Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.
“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.
You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.
Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.
“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.
“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.
Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.
“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.
Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.
Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.
Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.
“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.
Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.
“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.
Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.
“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.
He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.
His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.
He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.
He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.
“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.
He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.
“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.
Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."
A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.
"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.
Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.
"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."
Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."
With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.
Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.
"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.
Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.
"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."
Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.
Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."
Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.
Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.
"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."
You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.
a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏
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howdoesagrapewrites · 10 months
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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬
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Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.
Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon
Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair
>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come
>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby
>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon
>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard
>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago
>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace
>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe
>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it
>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen
>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon
>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful
>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter
>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth
>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard
>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned
>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father
>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation
>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk
>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"
>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you
>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill
>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk
>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently
>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you
>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you
>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne
>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother
>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting
>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto
>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you
>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers
>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you
>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively
>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor
>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs
>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother
>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him
>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed
>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you
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wintrwinchestr · 5 months
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obedience | part 2
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summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.
warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!
word count: 5.7k
a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)
(read part 1 here if you missed it)
dividers by @saradika
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“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”
It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot. 
The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.
You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night. 
Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.
The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.
When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.
You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”
“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.
“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.
Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.
A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.
You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.
Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?
And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.
“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.
“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.
“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest. 
Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”
You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.
“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.
You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.
A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him. 
“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”
You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”
You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.
“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.
“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”
You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.
He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”
You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal. 
“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”
It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.
“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”
And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.
Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.
“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.
Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.
“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs. 
Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.
“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.
“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.
“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”
Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.
“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.
“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.
“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”
You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.
“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”
 “No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him. 
“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.
“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock. 
On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.
He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”
“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.
He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.
“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.
You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.
“Speak,” he spits again.
“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.
“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?” 
You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.
You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.
Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat. 
He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.
“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”
You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.
He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.
“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”
Fuck.
The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.
Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.
“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.
You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.
“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment. 
“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”
You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”
“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”
He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.
“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”
The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.
“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”
You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy. 
Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.
“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.
You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.
“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.
It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.
“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.
“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.
You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.
“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”
You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.
When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer. 
He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.
You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.
When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.
“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.
You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.
“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.
He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”
“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.
“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.
“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.
Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”
You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”
“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.
You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”
He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”
Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought. 
“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”
You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.
He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it. 
Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.
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tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)
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reallyromealone · 4 months
Text
Title: fated
Chapter: two
Fandom: JJK
Characters: Gojo, Geto, unimportant ocs
Fic type: series
Pairings: Gojo x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, Omega male reader, angst
Notes:
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Gojo had been staying with (name) for a week at this point, (name) going about his day of without any care and honestly ignoring him half the time.
Gojo was still his... Gojo self.
(Name) Was watching his dramas on the couch as he made little plush toys for the neighborhood children, Gojo had gone out to do whatever... Frankly (name) didn't care and if Gojo didn't have the power to blast off the hinges of his door, he would have changed the locks.
Gojo had Geto send him a copy of (name)s information, everything about the Omega, hobbies and interests though Gojo ignored those as they seemed to be generic Omega things to make the thorn bush that was (name) seem more delicate.
(Name) Was interesting though from the other things Geto gathered for him, and something deeply interesting.
He wasnt blood related to the (lastname) clan...
He was a descendant of a notable figure.
Sakuna.
That would explain his defiant nature.
And then came his abilities...
Jesus fuck.
At that moment, Gojo knew why they were destined to be together.
If given proper training, (name) would be an unstoppable force and it made sense on why he was the diamond of his clan as Gojo was the gift of the heavens of his clan.
Their offspring would be a monster of power.
(Name) Was asleep when Gojo came back, the tv playing a drama as the Omega slept on the couch, curled up and cozy as a few crochet plushies scattered around him. Gojo felt the urge to protect but... He didn't feel love, he was always told that when you met your soulmate you would feel endless love but he just felt... Calm.
Like he did with Geto.
Carefully he lifted (name) and brought him to his bed, tucking him in.
He would learn to love (name) as his omega and (name) as his alpha...
"Work?" Gojo asked confused and (name) nodded with a yawn "of course, what do you think I sit on my ass all day?" Yup he could definitely see how he was descendants to Sakuna now, the white haired man chuckling at his omegas attitude, he definitely wasn't some weak Omega.
Gojo knew he would have to leave soon, he had work to do after all.
But he would be back, he had to come back for his mate after all.
They both had roles to play.
Gojo noticed that (name) always read slower, more intensely "oh.... They didn't see a purpose of having me learn too much, better a pretty Omega than one who could make their alpha look inferior" Gojo with his new knowledge of (name) knew that wasn't the full truth, they kept (name) dumb so that he couldn't be a threat like Gojo was.
"I have to go back to Tokyo tomorrow..." Gojo started and (name) looked up from his dinner "hm? Finally gave up?" He asked calmly and Gojo snorted "I don't give up, I just have to take care of stuff" he said simply and (name) rolled his eyes "it would be easier if you came with"
"Absolutely not" (name) didn't even hesitate to shoot that down, as he glared at Gojo "don't feel like you need to rush back" (name) said with a bland tone as he sipped his drink "ill be sure to come back as soon as possible " Gojo fired back as blue locked with (color) and the two glared at one another.
It took a month and a half till Gojo returned "what is this? You moving into the village or something?" (Name) Asked at all the bags and boxes that sat on his engawa "nah, Geto told me courting gifts are important" Gojo said and (name) looked a mix of annoyed and disgusted "you don't need to do that"
"But I want to"
(Name) Wanted to slap him, the audacity of this man.
Alphas were really shameless.
(Name) Barely glanced at the pile of gifts in his livingroom as Gojo made himself comfortable "so ya miss me while I was gone?"
"No" (name) said simply as he sipped his drink, already feeling a headache form in the front of his skull at the other "the house smells sweeter, you get a new air freshener or something " Gojo tried making small talk and (name) wasn't too interested "no that's just post heat smell, sticks on the walls for a while" this made Gojo freeze "your heat?" When was this?!
"Yeah, it ended the other day" (name) said like it was just talk about the weather, deciding to work on his crossword puzzle that was sitting on the corner of the table "why didn't you call me?" Gojo asked incredulously and (name) glanced up and glared "why would I call you?"
"Because I'm your alpha!"
"But you aren't" (name) argued and Gojo seethed, his Infinity getting a bit stronger and (name) was pushed back a bit, a slight look of fear on his face was enough to snap him out of it and a guilty look on his face "shit, I'm sorry" he was already fucking up even more and it hadn't even been an hour! (Name) Letting distressed pharamones slip out as he whispered "you make no attempts to be my alpha, ignore me for years and then you come into my life and make demands and claims... Then you use your strength the intimidate me... You are no different than the ones I grew up around" (name)a words were like a hot knife as he curled into himself.
(Name) Went about his day as if Gojo didn't exist, the Alpha having the decency of getting a room at the local inn though it was obvious Gojo didn't exactly want to do so but after the stunt he just pulled it was the smartest choice.
Though that didn't stop him from being excessive and clingy.
"Maybe we could go on a date tonight, what is there in this town anyways?" Gojo followed (name) around at work and the Omega was deeply embarrassed as people stared and whispered "can you not bother me while I'm at work?"
"I just wanna see what my omega is up to"
"Not your omega"
"Not yet"
"(Name)?" A voice called as Gojo was a bit annoyed that (name)s attention left him to some beta man who was the embodiment of the annoying boy next door trope "oh kei, is school out already?" (Name) Checked his watch and it was already 5pm, the store would be closed soon "yeah, gave the kids some fun in the sun before school let out... It's a nice day and all" he joked as Gojo dead stared him from behind (name) who paid no mind "that's great! It's too good of day to waste truly"
"Whose this?" Kei asked and looked at Gojo with a stupid smile that made the white haired man feel the urge to turn him into a fine mist.
There was barely any cursed energy in him, both Gojo and (name) combined had enough cursed energy to keep japan lit for a generation! He was weak, the lowest level scum cursed spirit could take him down!
"He's a creep who won't leave me alone" (name) said blandly and Gojo scoffed "Gojo Satoru, his fiance"
"Not my fiance"
"Not with that attitude" Gojo fired back and the school teacher looked between them confused before smiling "well it's nice to meet you Gojo! I'm Sato Kei!" He was inconsequential to Gojo, offering his hand to him but if he was to get closer to (name) he would need to get close to his friends.
"Pleasure to meet you" (name) huffed as they interacted but decided to take the time to return to his shift and shake the tick that was Gojo off him.
Gojo should had known it wouldn't be complete smooth sailing while he was here...
"It's always schools.." he whispered as he adjusted his eye cover and walked to the building where a cursed spirit resided, he just hoped he could finish the job fast.
Gojo didn't have a lot of empathy to those weaker to him, he didn't care about them.
But he did care about his omega, even if he didn't get why he did.
And telling (name) that his beta friend was dead... He never wanted to see (name) cry like that again.
546 notes · View notes
annwrites · 5 months
Text
exactly what he needs, pt. 4 ♡ ⋆。˚
— pairing: nate jacob x fem!reader
— type: part of a series
— summary: nate & you have breakfast together, made by you. he then takes you grocery shopping, & later in the week, he finally asks you to be his!
— tags: cute lil domestic moments, you wearing nate's jersey, meeting the parents day 1, first kiss
— tw: dollification (mans isn't even trying to hide it anymore, he straight-up is tying bows in your hair now), eating, snooping, it being implied that nate has already thought about one day baby-trapping you if push-comes-to-shove, misogyny (he's so mean to cassie), threatening, f receiving oral, emotional manipulation, possessiveness
— word count: 11,661
— a/n: reader uses pads bc i use pads & we are all about self-inserts around here (i never learned how to use tampons, don't judge me). honestly, idk how nate would feel about pads. like, on the one hand, i can see him as seeing them as more "unsanitary", but also preferring it if reader is still a virgin. tbh, he prob just tries to pretend periods don't exist, & doesn't want to hear about it if you're on yours, apart from a slight heads-up & being informed once everything down there is back to normal.
i hope this doesn't seem like things are moving too fast in reader & nate already getting together, but tbf, nate & cassie had hung out for what? prob at most a couple hrs when fezco beat his ass, & then the boy is lying in the hospital thinking he's in love & wants to have babies with her. i say it's on-par for his character lol.
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The next morning after your day together is the first time Nate ever shoots you a text. 
A simple Good morning, sweetheart.
You stare at it for around ten minutes, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You type up a reply, then delete it. Then type up another and backspace the entirety of it as well.
Finally, you press send on a simple Good morning. (:
Nate: Any plans for today?
You: Might clean the house a bit, then go grocery shopping.
You watch as three little dots dance on your screen, then suddenly disappear. You then suppose you’ve not supplied an incredibly interesting answer.
You toss your phone down on the bed, deciding to finally get up for the day. It’s nearly fifteen minutes later when you check your texts again and see that Nate replied…ten minutes ago.
Nate: How do you get your groceries home?
You: There’s a store not too far from here. If I don’t have very many, I usually just carry them as I walk. If I have quite a few, sometimes I take the bus.
Speaking of which, you need to check the schedule for it today and plan accordingly. That is, until Nate replies. 
Nate: I can drive you there and back. I don’t mind.
You begin to type, telling him that’s completely unnecessary, but you’re not fast enough.
A text from him pops up: omw
You throw yourself back on your bed, groaning. You’ve just woken up.
You hadn’t planned to go to the store for perhaps a few more hours. You want to at least wake up first. Eat something, then clean. Even if the house is already essentially spotless, but you have a cleaning schedule you try to adhere to to keep it that way. And to give yourself something to do on the weekends in your spare time.
Which is, apart from tutoring, all you really have.
You decide to just stay in your PJs—a pair of soft blue shorts with clouds on them and a white t-shirt.
You’ve already washed your face and brushed your teeth, as well as your hair—which is now in a bun atop your head.
You make your bed, opening your curtains, letting the morning sunshine into your room before you go to the living room and flip the lock on the door to let Nate in.
You then head to the kitchen to decide on what to make for breakfast. You’re torn between eggs and bacon, or waffles, with perhaps a small side of French toast, when you hear a truck roar into your driveway.
You’re torn from your debating over breakfast by a knock on the door.
“It’s open!”
Nate enters the house, slipping off his shoes, closing the door behind him. 
“I’m in the kitchen,” you call softly.
He comes to stand in the entryway. “Want me to give you a few while you get ready?”
He surely hopes you’re not the type who goes to the store in her pajamas, at least.
You turn around to look at him, leaning back against the counter behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Actually, I was planning on going later this afternoon. After cleaning. And eating… I haven’t had breakfast yet,” you say sheepishly.
“Shit,” he hangs his head for a moment, then looks at you again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your plans for the day. I just didn’t have anything to do this morning, so I thought I’d run over and help you out.”
You shake your head. “It’s ok. I appreciate it. You don’t have to stay if you have somewhere else you need to be.”
“I don’t. Not until this evening, at least.”
His dipshit dad wants everyone to have a family dinner together, while Nate wants to do anything else.
Like be here with you.
“Have you eaten yet?”
He has—a breakfast burrito maybe an hour ago. “No, do you want to go somewhere and get breakfast?”
“I could make us something instead?” You turn back around, opening the fridge again. “Any requests?”
He’s quiet for a moment, just taking you and this moment both in. You, still in your pajamas, having just rolled out of bed a little while ago, standing in the kitchen in the early-morning light, offering to cook for him. It’s all so…domestic. And a warm feeling forms in his chest at it—imaging this as his home with you. Imagining you’re both married and your kids are still asleep in the other room. 
You glance back to him.
He shakes his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never done—had this before.”
“What?”
“My-” he stops himself before he can say ‘girlfriend’. “A girl cooking for me.”
Your brows furrow. “Really? Neither Cassie or Maddy ever did?”
He chuckles. “I honestly don’t think of either of them know how.”
“That’s sad,” you state simply, before turning back around. “So, do you want bacon and eggs, or waffles, pancakes…I can do French toast?”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He likes that you know how to make so many things. That you want to do so for him. He’d chosen right with you. 
You turn around yet again. “You’re my guest, so you get to pick.”
He smirks, shrugging. “Bacon and eggs is fine with me.”
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled works.”
You nod, then start pulling out cookware.
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Nate had stood to the side, watching as you worked, occasionally sipping on a mug of black coffee—you’d put some on just after having gotten up. He’d asked more than once if you wanted help as he watched you flit about the kitchen, but you’d only smiled and shook your head.
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Finally, once breakfast is ready, you make the both of you a plate and carry them into the dining room, sitting his plate on one side of the table and yours on the other.
You take your seat before he can bother pulling it out for you. He tries not to let it irk him. He tells himself it’s because it’s a habit, since you’re in your own home. You’re not used to being catered to. But neither is he.
Thankfully, Nate had gone for a run after eating earlier, so he’s able to clean his plate. He doesn’t want your feelings hurt—for you to feel insulted—by him not eating every last bite. And it had been rather good, actually.
“You’re a good cook.” 
You look up to him, beaming. “Thank you, I’m glad you liked it. Do you want anything else?”
He leans back, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can fit anymore.”
You nod, standing, taking both your plates into the kitchen, placing them in the dishwasher.
You return to the dining room and remain silent as Nate types a message out on his phone, looking up to you as he tucks it back into his pocket.
“I’ll get dressed and then we can head out.”
He stands. “It’s warm out.”
You smile. “Thanks for the forecast.”
He smirks. “You could—if you want to—wear the skirt and top I bought you.”
You’d hung everything up to dry last night and had truthfully forgotten about all of it until his just-now reminding you.
“Unless you don’t like them?”
You shake your head. “No, I do. I just…I wish you had asked me first.”
“Would you have let me get them for you if I had?”
You wrap your arms around yourself. “Probably not.”
“Then I made the right decision to make it a surprise.” 
He heads in the direction of your bedroom, then, and you trail after him. “I just don’t understand why.”
You feel stupid, speaking to the back of his head.
He comes to sit in the swing-chair in the corner of your room. “Why what?”
“Why you bought me everything you did. I looked up the necklace, how much it costs…”
He’s unphased by it, knowing he’d spent well over a grand on you yesterday. But in truth, it hadn’t been nearly the amount he’d wanted to spend.
He'd wanted—more than anything—to take you into a lingerie store and blow a ton of cash on you there, watching you try on everything he asked you to. But he knew better. For now, at least.
“So I wanted to get you a few nice things. You act like it’s some sort of terrible thing for me to have done.”
You sit on the corner of your bed, facing him. “I’m very grateful. For all of it. I just…I hope you don’t think you need to buy my friendship, Nate. I’m not going anywhere.”
It has nothing to do with friendship. But he can’t tell you just how much it turns him on: spoiling you, buying you expensive things, the idea of you being covered in him—from shoes, to clothes, to jewelry, to perfume and more. It gets him off—makes getting off easier, in truth. Until he has your body to do that with, that is, at least.
He leans forward. “I’m glad to hear that. But you don’t have to worry—I never thought I did.”
He glances to your closet. “Do you want to get dressed?”
“I should probably check to make sure everything is dry. I hung everything up last night.”
You leave your bedroom, heading in the direction of the laundry room. 
Meanwhile, Nate stands, finally having a moment alone in your room. He wrenches open the drawer on your bedside table and is met with a couple remotes, a book, a few hair ties, a charging cable…nothing of interest. So he closes it.
Heart pounding, he peeks out your bedroom door—you’re nowhere to be seen—and he then opens the top drawer of your dresser next. Ever-organized, your panties are all in individual cubbies—all cotton, some solid colors, others with patterns printed across them, like small flowers and stars. He picks up a bra. White, with a bit of lace, a small bow in the front, another sage-green. Everything utterly virginal. He digs, but finds not one sex toy.
Perhaps you have them elsewhere. 
He jumps when he hears a door close. He steps into the hall a moment and sees the bathroom door is now shut. 
He returns to your room, getting on the floor and looking under your bed, where there’s only a couple vacuum-sealed bags full of clothes. He then quietly opens your closet. On the top shelf are a few boxes. He pulls down a shoe box, which, unsurprisingly, has a pair of brand new tennis shoes inside. He puts it back, pulling down another.
And it’s full of old Polaroids. They’re all from when you were younger. You and your dad, another of the two of you, a photo of a butterfly, another of a dog looking up at the camera, and he nearly drops the box when he finds a picture of the two of you. The pair of you can’t be more than six or seven-years-old, both of you smiling toothy grins up at the camera.
He flips it over. Written in faded blue ink on the back, it reads “Nate + Y/N ‘05”. He pockets the picture, putting the lid back on the box and setting it back in your closet. 
He stops snooping and sits back in his previous seat, unable to remember the picture ever having been taken. He wonders if you do.
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When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Nate is still sitting in the corner of your room, his head leaned back and eyes closed, hands folded in his lap.
You silently sit on the edge of your bed, folding your legs over one another, draping your new pink skirt over them. You don't want to wake him, so just as you begin to consider changing back, closing your door and cleaning the house while he rests, he slowly opens his eyes.
"If you'd like to take a nap, you can."
He shakes his head, looking you over. You look perfect. For the most part. "Don't want to wear your necklace today?"
You glance to the robin's-egg colored box on top of your dresser. In truth, you're a bit paranoid about wearing something so expensive. What if the chain breaks and by the time you realize, it's long-gone?
You then look back to him, watching as he stands, opens the small box, then removes the necklace inside.
He comes to sit down behind you, slipping the chain around your neck, fastening it into place.
He then begins to tug the hairband from your ponytail.
You half-turn your head back toward him. "What're you-"
"Do you mind if I do your hair for you?"
You're starting to wonder if Nate has some hidden interest in hair-styling.
"I...I guess not."
He slips your hairband free, it coming to rest on his wrist along with the one he'd taken from you yesterday.
You sit there silently, enjoying the feeling of someone else's fingers in your hair once again, your cheeks growing warm as you feel him pull one side of your hair into a pigtail—something you're not quite sure about, but you decide to only make a judgement once he's finished.
He then does the same with the other side, smoothing some hair down your back, before gripping both your upper arms. "Done."
You stand, walking over to the mirror set atop your dresser and inspecting the half-up, half-down style. One pigtail on either side, the rest of your hair against your back.
"I think you look really pretty like that," he says from the bed behind you.
Who knew the star-quarterback had hidden hair-dressing talents.
You turn back around to him. "So when do I get to do your hair?"
He raises a brow.
"I could put clips and bows and ribbons-"
"Do you have ribbons?"
He...he can't seriously want you to put one in his hair...
"Yes."
He stands. "Where?"
"In the bathroom, the second drawer below the sink."
He leaves you standing there as he goes to rifle through them, returning a moment later with two that match the color of your skirt.
"Nate-"
"Turn around."
You're not sure that you appreciate his demanding tone, but do as he says nevertheless.
Once you have bows tied around either pigtail, Nate puts his hand against the small of your back. "Let's head out."
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When the two of you arrive at the store, you go to get out, until Nate stops you by grabbing your left hand. "Wait for me to get it."
You sit back in your seat and wait for him to come around to your side. Once the door is open, you speak. "You don't have to come in with me if you'd rather wait here. I know grocery shopping, well, shopping in general, can be tedious."
He shrugs. "I don't mind."
He takes your hand, helping you down and shuts the door, leading you inside.
Nate stays close to your side as you toss various items into your cart—paying acute attention to each thing you do. You don't get a terrible amount of junk food, but he wishes you'd forgo the cereal. He'd already told you from here on out he'd be bringing you breakfast every morning.
He studies what kind of conditioner you use, what kind of lady razor, even your morning facial-wash. He briefly daydreams about getting you ready for the day—the detailed process he would go through to make you look like his own perfect living doll.
It's when you're in the frozen foods aisle that you briefly pause as he pretends to look over the frozen pizzas, when he's actually watching you. Watching you stare at a couple across the way, giggling and kissing each other, the girl's hand resting over her swollen belly, that is.
Hurt flashes across your features and he briefly grows angry, wondering if it's jealousy—if you know the man.
He steps over to you. "Do you know them?"
You jump in surprise at his presence, having been lost in your thoughts. You shake your head, throwing a bag of frozen vegetables in the cart. "No." You're quiet for a moment. "I was just thinking."
"About?"
You look at the happy pair again. "What that must feel like."
He places his palm against the small of your back, refusing to remove it for the rest of the shopping trip.
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Nate of course takes it upon himself to not only load every single grocery bag into the bed of his truck, but also unloading and bringing every one into the kitchen once you're home. He simply watches from a kitchen island stool as you put them away.
He eventually excuses himself to your bathroom, deciding to finally cross the boundary of going through your medicine cabinet.
He locks the door, turning the faucet on as he goes through the cabinet under your sink first. Some toilet paper, a box of pads, some pantiliners, cotton balls, cotton pads—basic bathroom paraphernalia.
He then starts pulling open drawers. One he's already familiar with, it's filled with small baskets which hold elastics, hair bands, bows, clips, headbands and the like. Another houses hot-tools: a curling iron, which looks barely-used, a straightener, which has clearly been well-loved—the company name all but rubbed off of it, even an old crimping iron, and a blow-dryer.
He moves onto the last drawer, which just has extra toothpaste, toothbrushes, some lotion, triple antibiotic, extra shaving gel, and some other odds-and-ends.
Finally, he opens the medicine cabinet, curious if you're on birth control. If so, that will be coming to a stop immediately. Not only does he hate the horrid list of side effects that come with it, but once the two of you start fucking, he wants to be in complete control of your reproductive options.
Needs to be if... Well, if he eventually decides he can't live without you and has to resort to drastic options to keep the two of you permanently connected for the rest of your lives, he'll have that option.
But all he finds is some Tylenol, Advil, expired allergy pills, an old prescription bottle with your dad's name on it, a bottle of mouthwash, a small cup of bobby pins, some q-tips, and a couple—of course—clean makeup brushes, a few other items here and there.
He quickly searches the shower and just finds a few bottles of various kinds of soap.
Finally, he flushes the toilet, turns the water off, and comes to join you in the kitchen.
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Nate had left not longer after you'd finished cleaning the house, him offering to help, but you telling him you could never ask a guest to do such a thing, so he'd instead sat on the couch, idly watching football, fantasizing once again about you being his perfect little housewife. Cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping for him, allowing him to dress you up and show you off.
It's in the moment as he watches you humming to yourself as you dust off the mantle that he decides this Thursday you'll finally be his.
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Nate continues on with the studying ruse to continue spending one-on-one time with you.
Monday, you'd done exactly as he'd asked: you'd worn the white dress, a pair of flats with it even, your new necklace, a hint of blush, and you'd even curled your hair, which had made him hard near-instantly.
It had taken everything in him not to hold your hand as the two of you walked into school. As soon as he spotted Lexi—the ridiculous look on her face as she watched the two of you—he pulled you in the other direction before you could see her yourself, seating you with him and his friends. When you had brought up going to find Lexi, he'd merely told you he thought it might be nice for you to meet some new people that morning.
He knew by their expressions that his friends had wanted to say something—anything about you—perhaps throw around some vulgar jokes, but the death-glare he greeted them with instead kept them talking about football and some party that had gone on this last weekend, which he'd been unaware of, too concerned with filling his time with you.
As the week went on, the two of you began to text more and more. You woke up everyday to him and went to sleep to messages from him. He'd even called you once, and the two of you chatted for almost an hour about everything and nothing. He would've been content to stay up all night listening to your voice, until you had gotten off the phone, telling him you were going to sleep and you would see him in the morning.
You had no idea he was outside of your house that night, watching your bedside lamp flicker off.
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Thursday after school, once the two of you are finished studying, Nate finally takes the plunge, praying to fucking God he gets what he's been dying to have for the last two weeks.
He pulls out his extra jersey from his bookbag, handing it to you.
You look up to him, confused.
"I thought you could wear it tomorrow to school, and the game that night."
You look down at it, the metallic number '18' on the front, then back up to him once more. "Isn't...isn't wearing a player's jersey to school something girlfriends usually do?"
He scoots the least bit closer to you, his legs on either side of your chair. He reaches up, gently gripping the back of your neck, light enough that it seems just a sweet gesture, but he knows what he means it as: him touching what is about to belong to him.
"Would that be such a bad thing?"
You blink once, twice. "What?"
He takes one of your hands in his free one. "Listen, the last few weeks," even if he knows it's only been two, but so little time together sounds...not the best out loud, "spending time with you has been a welcome change in my life. I know it started out as just tutoring, and we can keep doing that, of course. But, Y/N, I really, really like you. Being around you is just...so fucking easy. You're easy to talk to, to hang out with, to text with. And you're incredibly beautiful. And kind. And smart. Honestly, I could go on for the next hour, if not longer, about all your admirable qualities. Suffice to say that I'm very-much interested in being with you. And if you feel the same way that I do, then maybe we can give this a shot."
A strange, uneasy feeling comes over you. You tell yourself it's because you've never been asked out before. Never had someone show such blatant interest in you before like this. You're used to being alone, so of course the idea of being with someone—anyone—but especially Nate Jacobs, star football player, his dad's name being a household name in East Highland, and the guy every girl at school seems to want—seems unthinkable.
"I...I didn't think I was your type."
So does that mean you have thought about it? Being with him?
He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I didn't think so either. But that's precisely why I think you're so good for me. You're not attention-seeking. Dating girls like that in the past has caused me nothing but trouble. You're not superficial. You care about shit—see things—in ways others just don't. Not at our age, at least. Not at our school. You're mature, responsible, know how to take care of yourself..."
He trails off, wanting you to reply. To just say yes. To give yourself to him.
"I don't know about this..."
His grip on your hand tightens just the smallest bit. "What's your concern?"
"How do I know you're not rebounding, from Cassie or Maddy?"
He shakes his head. "I'm not. I should've been done with Maddy a long time ago for the way she treated me. What she did at McKay's...I can never forgive that. And Cassie was a mistake from the first moment. We had both been drinking. And I just...I wasn't thinking clearly. But I am now. And I know what I want."
You look down to your lap. "And what if I screw things up? I've never dated someone before. I'd have no idea what to even do."
"Nothing here has to change. Not really. Us being together just means spending more time together." He fights back a smirk. "And me finally getting to kiss you."
Your head jerks up.
"Once you're ready," he adds on, knowing you'll be ready when he deems you so.
"And what if I'm just one more person to hurt or let you down?"
He feels like with that one question alone—you being so concerned for his wellbeing—he falls in love with you.
He releases your neck, now cupping your cheek. "You won't be. Do you think I haven't thought the same thing? You were abandoned by your mom. Your dad, too, essentially. The last thing I want is to be one more person to leave you. So I don't plan to.
"Listen, I'm not saying everything is going to be like a picture-perfect fairytale all the time, but I think so long as we're both happy, give each other our all, and consistently work at what we have, then we'll both be happy.
"Just in the time we've spent together, I've already opened up more to you alone than I have to anyone else in I can't tell you how long. I trust you."
He brushes the pad of his thumb over your lower lip and you want to cry from how gentle and sweet he's being—has been—with you.
Finally, you resign yourself to the likely fate of your first heartbreak.
"Okay."
His brows raise. "Yeah?"
You nod, a small smile on your face, your eyes filling with tears of joy. "Yes."
He stands, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck before spinning you around. "Oh, baby, I am going to make you so fucking happy."
You look down at him, and you believe it.
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When you wake the next morning, you only get so far as brushing your teeth and washing your face when you hear a truck outside.
Still half-asleep, you wander to the front door and look through the peephole to see Nate coming up to it, one of his arms behind his back. You briefly wonder if you'd overslept as you flip the lock and open the door.
He comes in, pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. "Morning, angel."
You look up to him with sleepy eyes. "Am I running late?"
He smirks, thinking of the things he'd love to do with you while you're still half-asleep like this. It'd be too all easy to take control in bed.
He shakes his head. "No, I'm early," he says, pulling a bouquet of a dozen white roses out from behind his back.
You gasp lightly, taking them from him. "They're beautiful." You look up to him. "You didn't have to bring me flowers now that we're together."
It feels oddly strange to say.
He presses another kiss to your forehead. "I wanted to. It's something I want to do for you, bring my girlfriend flowers, take her on dates," he shuts the door behind him, backing you up against the wall, the flowers clutched against your chest as he places his palms on either side of you. "I hope you know I intend to spoil you fucking rotten."
Your eyes widen. "Oh."
He smirks. "C'mon, let's go get you ready."
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Once you've put your flowers in a glass vase near a window in the kitchen, Nate takes your hand, leading you into the bathroom.
"Sit," he says before stopping himself, nearly opening the drawer to your straightener. He doesn't need you knowing he'd been snooping. "Straightener?"
"Uh...top drawer," you reply, seating yourself on the toilet lid
He retrieves the device, plugging it in.
As it heats up, he grabs your hairbrush from atop the sink and comes to stand behind you, running the bristles through your hair.
"You...you don't have to do my hair."
"I want to."
In truth, he wants to shave and moisturize your legs as well, then dress you in his jersey—picking out a bra and panties, too, before doing your makeup.
"Did you do this for Maddy and Cassie as well?"
He'd bought Maddy clothes, but she would've never let him dress her. Would've most-likely mocked him had he so much as given her a ponytail. Cassie was obviously a different story. "No. And we don't have to talk about them anymore. They're in the past now."
You fidget nervously with your hands. "Isn't that important—addressing our pasts to get to know one another better?"
Once your hair is free of tangles, he sets the brush down on top of the toilet tank. He then comes to stand in front of you, kneeling down to make the two of you level. "It is, but I don't want you to worry about either of them. You're the best thing for me now."
He sprays some heat-protectant on your hair before beginning to straighten it.
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Nate gives you some privacy as you go over your legs with a razor one more time before getting dressed, even if you'd shaved the night previous. When you're finished, you come to stand in front of the mirror, and you simply stare.
Your hair is like it was the other day when you went grocery shopping, only, instead of ribbons on either side, he'd used hair bands that have two small balls on them that match the color of the numbering on his jersey. He'd actually done surprisingly well in doing your hair.
When you step out of the bathroom, he's waiting for you in your bedroom, his extra jersey, which you'd had hung up in your closet, now resting on your bed.
You nearly want to pinch yourself, everything seems so unreal in this moment.
He picks up the blush he'd gotten you, along with a makeup brush from your hardly-ever-used vanity and he dips it into the fine powder before gripping your chin, swiping the brush over the apples of both of your cheeks once, then twice.
You giggle nervously. "I'm starting to feel like a living-doll or something."
He smirks, snapping the compact shut, setting the materials back where they go. "I just like taking care of you."
He picks up your diamond Tiffany necklace, one more sign of his ownership over you, and clasps it around your neck.
He nods down to the jersey. "I'll let you get dressed."
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Nate fights back a raging erection every mile to school. Here you sit, completely fucking covered in him, in the passenger seat of his truck. He'd done your hair, your makeup, bought the piece of jewelry you're now wearing, and his jersey hangs from your frame like a dress—he'd also picked out the white pair of tennis shoes from your closet that you're now wearing. Even eating a muffin he'd stopped to pick up for you.
He wants to pull over in a secluded spot somewhere and claim your virginity—one more part of you that will now belong to him—but he tells himself that will come soon enough.
If his plan works, you'll be in his bed, a whimpering, crying, whining, begging mess under him, sooner rather than later.
Your pussy will be his to fuck whenever and however he pleases.
He'll finally be back to no longer having to use his hand.
His fucked-up sexual fantasies of the two of you will finally get to come true
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When Nate pulls into the lot, he 'accidentally' steps on one of your shoelaces after you've gotten out of the truck. He lifts you back up into your seat, setting your foot atop his knee—just like at the bowling alley—and people watch from their cars as he ties your shoe for you.
Finally, he takes your hand, firmly twining your fingers together, before locking his vehicle behind the two of you, as you walk into school together.
And you feel yourself begin to sweat nervously with every pair of eyes that turn your way, some people clearly not thinking much of it—bless those few—while others react with shocked expressions, whispering amongst themselves, eyeing you up and down, making you want to crawl inside a hole.
You look up to Nate and he looks nothing short of confident and unbothered.
You then glance over to Lexi's table and Lexi's expression somehow looks...sad? Disappointed, maybe?
Cassie, however, is shaking she's so enraged.
You quickly balk and look away from her before sitting down beside Nate, thankful you had worn a pair of black bicycle shorts under his jersey.
You drown out Nate's football friends chatting with him about tonight's game as he places his hand on your knee, then slowly moves it higher, then higher, until it's on the middle of your thigh.
You can feel your face growing warm out of mortification. What if someone sees? Thinks that the two of you are...well, already doing that.
You're torn from worrisome thoughts, thinking perhaps you'd made a mistake—you're not sure exactly what choice to consider as much—by Nate squeezing your leg.
You blink up at him. "What?"
He nods toward his friend. "He asked you a question."
You look at the young man across the table, who's maybe a year younger than the both of you, with black hair and hazel eyes, braces still on his teeth.
"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't hear you."
"I asked if you were going to be at the game tonight, since you're Nate's new girl."
"Of course she is," Nate replies for you. "She'll be in the stands cheering us onto victory. Right, baby?"
You give him a nervous smile, then nod.
He's pleased with your agreeable response.
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When you get into second period, Cassie is already there, in her seat, which is just behind and diagonal to yours. You don't look at her as you lie your books on your desk, afraid to meet her eyes.
Then you hear her whisper "bitch" as you take your seat.
You slowly turn back to look at her, filled with hurt at the cruel name.
She gives you a nasty look. "What are you looking at?" She asks in a snide tone.
You turn back around without another word, fighting back tears for the rest of class, unable to think of anything else but how she'd always been so nice to you, and now despises you.
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Once class is over, you go out to your locker, so distracted that you don't see Nate leaning against the one next to it with a smile meant only for you.
A smile that immediately disappears when he sees the sullen look on your face, and your bloodshot eyes.
You fumble with your lock twice before finally getting your locker open.
"What's wrong?"
You nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
You shake your head, setting your books back on their shelves with shaking hands. "N-nothing."
He leans down closer to you and speaks gently, quietly. "Something happened. Tell me."
He isn't going to take no for an answer.
You shake your head and he feels his fuse growing shorter. "Did someone say something to you?"
You look up to him. "I don't want to cause any trouble."
He delicately laces his fingers through your hair. "You won't. Just tell me what happened, sweetheart."
You shift from one foot to the other, clutching one of your textbooks to your chest. "Cassie. She-"
His tone grows hard. "What did she do?"
"When I got into class she called me a bitch. I wasn't...I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. I turned around to look at her and she just...she had such a mean look on her face and asked me what I was looking at, so I just turned around."
He clenches his jaw so hard he's sure it will break. If that stupid whore ruins what he'd just gotten to finally happen with you—making you his—he'll fucking kill her. Actually kill her.
He wants to make a scene right in the middle of the hallway, wants to show you just how far he's willing to go to protect you, even just your feelings, but he knows it will only frighten you away. Showing his devotion to you in extreme measures is something that will have to come in time.
He presses a firm kiss to your forehead, staring down Cassie across the way, who's watching the both of you with a devastated look on her face. He then looks down at you, lifting your chin until your eyes are looking into his own. "Just ignore her. She's jealous. That's all it is. Eventually she'll get over it and move onto her next flavor-of-the-month."
You nod, grabbing the rest of your things for third period.
He smiles down at you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to run to the restroom first."
You nod, heading to class.
Once you're out of sight, he makes a b-line for Cassie.
And the dumb bitch is stupid enough to actually smile at him.
When he reaches her, he slams her locker shut with one hand—causing her to jump—keeping it firmly in place against it as he stares her down. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
She shakes some hair off of her shoulder, looking up to him, back straight, eyes pensive. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's complete fucking bull. Y/N told me what happened in second period." He lowers his voice so only she can hear. "Let's get one thing straight, you desperate whore, if you screw this up for me, you won't like what happens to you. You have no idea the things I'm capable of—the lengths I'm willing to go to—when someone tries to destroy my life or take someone I love away from me."
She flinches at that—him admitting it—his feelings for you. And after such a short time...
"We had our fun, now I'm done with you, just like the other half of the male student population here. The fuck did you really think was going to happen with us? Did you think we'd...what? Get married, have kids, and live in a cul-de-sac in some fantasy where you're actually a good person that any man would deem worthy of marriage? I got exactly what I wanted and threw your ass to the curb when I got bored and you started acting fucking psychotic."
He points his finger at her face and she shrinks back against a locker, tears stinging her eyes. "Stay the fuck away from me, and even further away from Y/N. If I find out you've said another word—so much as come near her... Just try me, Cass."
With that, he steps away, heading to third period.
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After school, Nate drops you off, promising he'll be back that evening to pick you up before the game, and you give him a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves.
Once you're alone, for some reason, you feel like you can finally breathe. Like some weight had been bearing down on your chest all day and has suddenly lifted.
You blame it on the crowded halls and your noisy classmates.
You leave your hair the way it is, but change into something more comfortable before finding something to eat and sitting down to do homework.
In the middle of finishing your math homework, you begin to think of what had happened with Cassie. It had hurt your feelings, but you aren't angry. If anything, you feel sad on her behalf. While she was, of course, partly to blame, she'd still lost her best friend and boyfriend both, as well as earning herself an even worse reputation around school. You tell yourself the anger isn't necessarily directed at you. That's she's just lashing out in general due to being hurt and alone, and you're an easy target.
You're not sure trying to make nice with her is a good idea, however.
Your phone buzzes, ripping you away from your worries about Maddy trying to come after you next, even if she seems to have far less interest in you and Nate—minus that day in the parking lot—when you check it. You see that it's from Nate.
Nate: Be by around 6 to pick you up.
You: See you then. (:
Nate: Make sure to wear my jersey. 🏈
You grin at his finally using emojis.
You: I will. ❤️
You're left with a little over two hours to yourself before he'll be there to pick you up again. So you take another shower, knowing you sweated a bit more than usual today, then lie back on your bed and try to distract yourself with a movie.
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Shortly before six, you dress in Nate's jersey again, and a fresh pair of panties and bicycle shorts before going out to sit on the swing in front of your house to wait for him.
You can't help but smile when he pulls up, butterflies in your stomach.
He comes around, opening the passenger door to the truck. Once you're seated, before you can buckle yourself, he does so for you.
You don't manage to say anything, such as telling him that him doing that really isn't necessary, before he shuts the door.
Nate rolls down the windows, blasting upbeat rap music on the way back to the school. You smile, thinking he looks cute when he's excited. He doesn't seem to exhibit that emotion a lot.
Then again, apart from winning at bowling, neither do you.
Perhaps the both of you are too serious for your age.
You lean back, a smile on your face, and he rests his hand on your upper thigh. You tell yourself you're fine with him touching you there.
That it doesn't make you uncomfortable.
That he's just trying to be a sweet boyfriend.
Once the two of you pull in, the parking lot is only sparingly filled. But the game also doesn't start until after seven.
Once Nate has helped you out of the truck, disliking that you'd already unbuckled yourself before he got a chance to, he takes your hand in his—his duffle bag slung over his other shoulder—as he heads in the direction of the field house. One you're around the backside of the school, he drops his bag on the ground, turning back to you.
He cups your cheek in his large palm. "Can I get a kiss for good luck?"
You hesitate for a moment. Then, "Yes," you say with a shy smile.
He smiles down at you in return before pressing you up against the brick building, then lowering his lips to yours.
He fights back a moan at finally getting to be this: your first kiss. The first one to taste you. The only person to ever have this intimate moment with you.
He opens your mouth with his, gently flicking his tongue against your own and he feels your body stiffen, until he does it again and you relax.
He stays like that for a good few minutes, his tongue tasting you, the sun beating down on his back as his form shadows your own, both your eyes closed as you, after seventeen years, finally find out what it's like to be kissed.
And it's slow and gentle and passionate. And you feel heat pool between your thighs.
You whimper against his lips and his cock hardens at the sound.
He pulls back just the least bit, his lips hovering over your own, which are now red, a bit swollen. "What was that?"
"I dunno," you say, gripping his t-shirt, pulling him back down to you.
He grows impossibly harder at the fact you want more.
He easily obliges.
He wants to move his lips down to your neck, wants to give you a hicky before you go sit on the bleachers for the game, but doesn't.
Finally, he pulls away, both your breathing labored. "Alright, I have to go get ready, my little good-luck charm."
You laugh at that.
He presses one more soft kiss to your lips before reaching down and grabbing his bag.
"Oh," he says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "This is for your ticket." He hands you a five dollar bill. "And this is incase you want anything from the concessions."
He hands you a fifty and your eyes widen.
"I don't think a pretzel costs that much, Nate."
He shrugs. "Maybe you'll want a souvenir of your first game."
You stand on your tiptoes and he smirks, leaning down again as you wrap your arms around his neck. You press a soft kiss to his cheek, before whispering in his ear. "Good luck. And thank you."
He kisses your lips again before stepping away. "I'll look for you in the bleachers."
He begins to walk backwards toward the field house.
"I'll be there cheering you on."
He smiles at the image of that. "Maybe we can do something after."
You nod. "Good luck!"
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Surprisingly, when you go to sit on the bleachers, Cassie, who's gathered with the rest of the cheerleaders, doesn't look back at you but once, shortly after you first sit down. It'd only been a glance, and then her completely ignoring you, which you're beyond okay with.
You'd bought yourself a water before finding a seat, the day still hot with the sun out, even if it's beginning to slowly set.
A sense of thrill fills you when the players run onto the field, your eyes immediately honing in on number eighteen.
You feel your cheeks grow impossibly warmer when you remember your kiss from earlier.
You watch as the players gather around their coach, Nate removing his helmet as they—you assume—strategize. He glances up to you and gives you a wink and you smile in return, blowing him a kiss.
Once they break, Nate pretends to catch it, pressing it to his chest before putting his helmet back on.
You can't help but admire him in his uniform.
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You've never liked sports before tonight. But with Nate now being your boyfriend and out there on the field, you're completely engrossed. You sit on the edge of your seat the entire game, just watching him running this way and that across the field, blushing when you think about the two of you wearing matching jerseys.
And every time he scores a touchdown, which turns out to be a lot, you hop up from your seat, clapping and smiling, feeling proud of him.
In all honesty, seeing him plowing through the other players and tackling and just...playing the game...actually turns you on a little. Okay, perhaps a bit more than a little. It just makes him look so strong.
You wonder what he would think of that fact.
Once the game is over, the Blackhawks having unsurprisingly won, Nate removes his helmet, yelling and laughing in victory with the rest of his teammates. You smile, glad to see him happy.
He looks into the stands, searching for you and finds you in the same spot you've been in all night.
He waves his hand for you to come down and you do, coming to stand on the other side of the fence from him.
He rests his forearms atop it. "So, what did you think?"
You grip a few of his fingers. "I had fun, which I didn't expect." You giggle to yourself.
"What?" He asks with a smirk.
You shake your head.
"Well, now you have to tell me."
You look up at him from under your lashes and he can already tell he's going to fucking love whatever is about to come out of that pretty little mouth.
"You look really good in your uniform."
He leans forward. "Oh, yeah?"
You nod. "Mhm."
He reaches forward, gripping the one you're wearing, bringing you a bit closer to him. "So do you."
You kiss then, the taste of him now mixed with sweat and grass and fresh air.
He pulls away. "Climb over here."
Watch me fall or hurt myself, you think as you wedge your tennis shoe in the chain-link fence. Once you're halfway up, Nate lifts you the rest of the way over, and you wrap your legs around his middle, running your fingers through his slick hair.
"Sorry, I'm all sweaty."
You shake your head. "I don't mind," you say before kissing him.
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You wait for Nate outside of the field house, leaned back against the red brick stones, staring up at the millions of stars littering the night sky, feeling so completely happy for the first time in you're not sure how long.
Once players begin to file out, you watch for Nate to be among them. When he exits, he glances in your direction, coming over to stand in front of you, offering you his hand. "Ready?"
You nod.
Once you're in his truck, he stands in the passenger side doorway, one of his arms resting against the top of the truck, his other hand against your left calf.
"I've had a really great night, and I don't really want to just drop you off at home, and then it ends."
You just look at him, waiting for him to continue.
"If I ask you to stay the night at my place, will you?"
You shift in your seat. "Doing...doing what?"
"Just sleeping," he states. "Maybe we can watch a movie in bed or something."
You think about it for a moment, not sure you're comfortable with moving this quickly.
"What about your parents?"
"What about 'em?"
"They won't mind you bringing a girl home late at night?"
He shakes his head. "I mind my business and they mind theirs. If I want to invite someone over, they're not going to tell me no."
You think that's a very unconventional way to parent, especially when it comes to him having a girl in his room—in his bed.
"You don't think it's a little early for me to be spending the night?" You ask gently, using a kind tone to try and prevent hurting his feelings.
He's quiet for a moment, now looking away from you. "I'm sorry. I guess I got too excited to spend more time with you tonight. It was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. Just forget I did."
He goes to pull away and you suddenly feel bad. You'd hurt his feeling anyway. Something you had told him you didn't want to do just yesterday.
You quickly grab his hand. "No, I'm sorry. I just...I don't-" you scramble for some excuse that isn't 'this makes me uncomfortable'. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me."
He softens, stepping closer to you again, his hand sliding up your thigh. "Like what?"
You relax at the tension quickly dissipating. "Like..." you bite your lip. "Like I'm easy. Or...or a slut. Or-"
That same hand comes up to caress your cheek. "Baby, you'd never even had your first kiss before tonight. I could never think that about you. You're probably the most innocent girl—person, even—at this school. And like I said, we'll only be sleeping."
You look at him for a moment. "I don't have a change of clothes. Or a toothbrush or-"
"You can just wear something of mine. And we have extras, I'll just give you one."
Finally, you cave. "Ok."
He gives you a gentle smile. "Ok."
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When you and Nate pull up to his house, you suddenly feel inadequate at the large home that looms before you. Two stories tall and very, very expensive looking.
You're so busy studying the extravagance of it that you don't notice Nate unbuckling you.
"Your house is-"
"Obnoxious, I know."
He helps you down, taking your hand in his before grabbing his bag and heading inside.
You glance around the foyer, but not for long before Nate begins pulling you toward the stairs. And then you hear his name being called from down the hall.
He stops in his tracks, rolling his eyes.
"Is that your mom?" You whisper.
He drops his duffel bag, which thumps against the floor. "Yeah."
"Nate, come in here, I want to tell you how great you were tonight!"
You take one of his hands in both of yours. "Can I meet her?"
He pulls his hand away without answering. Only, instead, giving you a 'wait here' before walking away.
You stand there, unsure about the sudden shift in his mood. It was like it had happened gradually on the way over and only became more extreme the moment her voice called to him.
Does he really hate being here that much?
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When Nate enters the kitchen, his mom is making a salad at the island, his dad grabbing a beer from the fridge.
Marsha walks around it, gesturing for Nate to lean down to give her a hug, which he does, and she plants a quick kiss to his cheek. "You were so great tonight, honey. Your momma is very proud of you."
He nods. "Thanks."
He glances back down the hall, and then his dad speaks. "You left yourself open too much in the first quarter. I've said it before and I will again, you need to work on that, son."
Nate's fists tighten at his side.
He glances back down the hall again and immediately regrets it.
"Do we have company?" His mom asks.
"No. I do." He takes a step away.
"Wait, hold on. Who is it?"
He rolls his eyes. "Does it fucking matter? I need to get back to her-"
He lets out a low swear. He just had to say 'her'.
His mom crosses her arms, now interested. "Her? Did you bring a girl home?"
"I think your mother means 'another girl' home."
Nate glares at his father as he takes a swig of his beer. Finally, he looks back to his mom. "Yes."
Her brows raise. "Well, do I get to meet her?"
Nate sighs. He steps out of the kitchen, and you look up at him, now full of nerves. He jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen.
You walk up to him. "Is everything ok?" you whisper as he takes your hand.
"It's fine." Is all the reply he gives you before pulling you into the kitchen with him.
Your eyes look this way at that, taking in the lovely décor and the beautiful island and appliances, then looking to his mom, then his dad, who seems to be watching the two of you with no more than idle amusement.
"Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my parents."
His mom steps forward first, pulling you into an unexpected hug, but you quickly embrace her in return. You don't want to admit how nice it feels to be held by a mother, even if she isn't your own.
Finally, she pulls back, holding you in place by your upper-arms as she looks you over. "Well, don't you just look adorable in Nate's old jersey."
You flush a shade of crimson. "Thank you."
She releases you, placing her hand over her chest. "I'm Marsha, the mom. And this is-"
"Cal," His father finishes, stepping up to the island, reaching across it to shake your hand.
You nearly tell him you already know his name, but refrain, knowing doing so will only make this moment more awkward.
Once introductions are through, you step back to Nate's side.
"It's nice to meet the both of you."
"Oh, she's polite!" His mom chimes in. "I already like her a lot better than Maddy. Not that that's hard to achieve." She takes a bite of her salad, swallowing. "She was a truly awful girl."
Nate wraps his arm around your waist, but before he can pull you away and get you upstairs and locked away inside his room with him, Cal speaks. "Going through 'em awful fast, aren't you, Nate? That's what, three girls now, in almost as many months?"
You feel nothing short of embarrassed, perhaps even a little ashamed, at his comment.
Nate's grip on your hip tightens painfully for a moment, and you're sure it'll leave a bruise, but you don't speak, instead just bearing witness to the now-taut silence enveloping the room.
Nate steps away from you, going over to the fridge.
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Nate grabs a beer, Cal going to grab himself another, until Nate speaks so low only he can hear. "Not nearly as fast as you, though, am I?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're such a fucking asshole. Leave me," he glances to you, then back to his dad, "And her alone. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours like we usually do."
With that, Nate comes over, firmly gripping your hand, and leading you upstairs.
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Once Nate has shut the door behind the two of you, locking it, he throws his duffle bag down, then grabs a pair of boxers and sweatpants from his dresser before going into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
You seat yourself on his bed, wondering what, exactly, had been said between he and his dad to make him so upset. Unless it was the comment about him going through girls? On the one hand, it was kind of a shitty thing to say. On the other, parents sometimes give their kids a hard time. It comes with the territory.
A few moments later, Nate emerges from the bathroom, shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his hair damp and tousled.
You feel that same heat from earlier when he'd kissed you settling between your legs again. Then you tell yourself now is not the time—he's upset.
He walks over to his closet.
"Are you ok?" You ask softly.
He hands you a plain black t-shirt. "Here, you can wear this to bed after you've showered."
So he's not ready to talk about it just yet. "What about bottoms?"
He lies back on the bed, one of his arms slung over his eyes. "Nothing I have will fit you. The t-shirt is fine."
You accept that, padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
When you emerge, it's in Nate's shirt, a fluffy towel wrapped around your wet hair.
He's still lying on the bed in the same position from earlier.
You rub the towel against your hair a few times, then drop it in his hamper before coming to sit with your legs crossed beside him. You're silent for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say. Finally, you just make a simple offer.
"Do you want me to leave?"
He shakes his head, his other arm coming to rub up and down your spine. "No."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He lowers the arm from over his eyes, which are now open, staring up at the ceiling. "There's nothing to talk about. I told you: he's an asshole."
You shrug. "He's your dad. Picking on you is kind of part of his job."
"That's not why he said it. It's not why he does any of the shit that he does. It has nothing to do with him being my dad."
"Maybe he just-"
He looks at you then. "Can we just not talk about my dad while we're in bed together?"
You withdraw into yourself a little at his sudden irritation. And how he had worded it. Like you're doing something other than just talking.
"Ok, I'm sorry."
He notes that your tone now sounds slightly frightened. He sits up, leaning on his arm, his free hand coming to grip your waist. "No, I am. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just him. It's always fucking him."
"Have the two of you ever considered sitting down and just having a heart-to-heart?"
He snorts, then looks at you like that's the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with.
"Lie down with me," he says, pulling back the covers, which you then crawl beneath.
He pulls you against him, his arm under your neck, fingertips lightly tracing the tip of your shoulder. "Thank you for being here."
"You're welcome. I'm very proud of you tonight. It sounds like your mom is too."
He bends the arm that's not holding you behind his head.
"I'm glad you stayed."
"Of course I did," you say, resting your hand over his chest. "I thought I hated sports until tonight. I had a fun time watching you."
He looks at you. "Good."
He then slips his arm out from under you, your head falling back against a pillow which smells of cologne and him. He hovers over top of you, scooting you lower before he presses a kiss to your forehead.
You panic. "Nate..."
He looks down, but you grab his chin, which he doesn't expect.
"Don't look."
His brows furrow.
"The t-shirt sort of rode up."
He bites back a smirk. So you're half-naked underneath him, then.
He lowers his body onto your own. "There, now I can't see."
You remain staring up at him.
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek. "Is this ok?"
You're quiet for a moment. Longer than he'd like. Until, finally, "I guess so."
That's all the permission he needs before he starts kissing you. He teases you with his tongue again like earlier, since you had seemed to like that so much, before he eventually moves lower, pressing hot, wet kisses to your neck.
He moves from one side, and when he gets to the other, you jerk underneath him and whimper.
So he kisses that same spot again and your breathing quickens.
His cock fills with blood, knowing he's found a sweet spot.
And so he kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, until your hips have risen up against him, your arms around his neck and you're panting. He flicks his tongue and you moan in the back of your throat, your control slipping more and more with each kiss. He doesn't stop until he's sure you're soaked and he sees that he's left a purple bruise in his wake.
When he looks down at you, your face is flushed, your lips slightly parted, your hair a mess. It'd be so fucking easy to have his way with you right now. But it would ruin everything to do it this soon.
"Did you like that?" he asks, smoothing some hair from your face.
You nod.
He wonders just how far you'll let him go tonight, short of him breaking your hymen with his cock.
He grips your hip in one of his hands, then moves it higher, to the curve of your side, then higher, until you reach down, firmly grabbing his wrist, his hand now underneath his t-shirt that's barely even covering you now.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"I-" you shut your mouth.
In truth, all you want is to touch yourself. Or maybe let him. No. You can't do that. Not this soon. God, what are you doing? In his bed, nearly naked—nothing covering your bottom half, which is now so wet your thighs are slick from it—and wanting nothing more than to tell him to keep going.
You've never felt like this before. But you've also never had any form of intimacy with another person before.
Only ever yourself.
He gives you a look of understanding. "I don't give a shit what society expects of you. What you think you're supposed to do. I want to know what you want, right now, in this moment."
Finally, after a beat of silence, you release his wrist.
He slowly pushes up the t-shirt higher, then higher, until he can see the bottom swell of your breasts, then he pulls it over your head, tossing it on the floor.
And he just marvels at you. Your naked body lying back against his dark sheets. He still has his lower half covering your own, but knows he'll get to see every inch of you before the night is through.
He leans down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and you throw your head back.
He grips your hips, trailing his tongue over to your other breast, now sucking on it. He looks up to you. Your eyes are now closed, head thrown back, mouth slightly parted.
He rolls a nipple between his teeth and your hips lift, which he pushes back down into the mattress.
He moves back to your other breast, doing the same, willing a whimper or a cry from your lips. Even his fucking name. Instead, you're so damn quiet. Maddy and Cassie had both been vocal—sometimes overly so. This he's not used to.
Finally, he lifts his head and your eyes pop open, wondering why he's stopped.
"Are you not enjoying it?"
Your brows furrow. "What?"
"You're not really making any noise. Are you this quiet when you touch yourself?"
You wait a moment, then nod. He just tells himself that he won't stop until he's changed that fact, then.
He dives back down, devouring your breasts again, then kissing between them, gradually moving lower and lower, until he's right below your belly button.
You suddenly sit half-up, leaning back on your forearms.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asks.
Your heart is pounding, and there's an incredibly strong pulse going between your thighs. A million thoughts race through your head. The most prominent one: is this why he'd given you attention in the first place? To make you another notch in his belt?
"This...this isn't all you wanted me for-"
"No. I want you. All of you. Being intimate with you is just one part of it. I don't plan on having sex with you tonight. When I take your virginity, I want it to be perfect. For your sake. There's just something I want to try."
He releases one of your hips, twining his fingers between yours for reassurance. While he understands your hesitancy, he wishes you'd lie the fuck back down and spread your legs for him.
Until, finally, you do.
He kisses down your stomach, then is pleased to see that you'd recently shaven your pubic area.
He makes a mental note to start setting you up appointments, which he'll be paying for, so you can get waxed regularly. At least he won't have to worry about stubble or ingrown hairs at that point.
When he's finally eye-level with your pussy, his throbbing erection grows impossibly harder. You truly are fucking perfect in every way.
He lowers his mouth onto you and, finally, you cry out at the unexpected feeling.
He quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, spearing his tongue, burying it in the heat between your thighs. He flicks your clit and your fingers tighten around his.
God, you're already so fucking wet. He blames it on your being a virgin—not that he doesn't absolutely fucking love it.
So he does it again. And again. He then swirls his tongue this way and that, sliding up your soaked folds—God, you taste fucking amazing—then back down again. Finally, he pulls back the least bit and he hears you whine in response as he begins to kiss your inner thighs.
At least he'll have this to use against you when the time comes: a bit of oral sex, leading you right up to the edge, and then denying you an orgasm unless you do what he wants will be a perfect weapon against you.
Finally, after wiggling your hips more than once, clearly wanting his mouth back on your pussy, he gives you what you've silently asked him for.
He kisses, licks, sucks, bites—lightly—until he focuses solely on your clit.
He hopes you scream when you fucking cum just so his dad has to hear it.
Instead, that fantasy is broken when you release his hand, pulling one of his pillows over your face as you finish against his mouth, your hips lifting, which he once again pulls back down as he continues eating you out.
He only hears your muffled cries—he can swear he hears you say his name—until you finally drop the pillow on the floor, trying to catch your breath as he presses a few kisses to your now-pulsating pussy.
He rests his chin against your pubic area, watching as you slowly begin to calm, your legs still over his shoulders.
"How was that?"
You feel dazed, your legs like jelly, even a bit sweaty. "Good."
He raises a brow. "Just good?"
You tangle your fingers in your hair, the pulse of your pussy just now beginning to calm. "Really, really good."
"You liked it that much, huh?"
You nod.
"How much?"
You sit up, your muscles now feeling weak. "I loved it, Nate. T-thank you."
He studies you for a moment, considering. "Do you want me to do it again?"
"Really?"
He notes just how eager and excited you sound. Almost desperate for it—for him.
And in that moment, he knows he finally has you exactly where he fucking wants you.
373 notes · View notes
cillianhead · 9 months
Text
Strawberry Syrup || Cillian Murphy
summary: A hot day by the pool with your desperate boyfriend <3
Warnings: SMUT!! Dubcon Themes, Unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), fingering, sex in the pool, public sex, Daddy kink, Food Play (LISTEN.... DON'T ACTUALLY DO THIS STUFF BC ITS UNSANITARY!! (it could give you a UTI or a yeast infection or anything like that D: ), sorta switch!Cillian, squirting, Adult content!! (some sorta self insert bits that are a bit toooooo personal but it's just like a mention of reader having tattoos and stuff hehe) (Age Gap mentions, Cillian is older, Reader is in her mid 20s and he's in his mid 30s) (Cillian is a horndog in this basically)
Short fic since I haven't uploaded anything in a while.
((also stuff in italics... is sort of like memories or something (so stuff in italics isn't necessarily related to the plot... but it's gonna be mixed throughout the whole fic so just a reminder the stuff that is ITALICISED is all stuff that's either "thoughts" or "memories of the past"))
(also currency is talked about and I used the words "dollars" and "cents" because that's just what I'm used to saying? But I know there's like pounds and all the other currencies there are KDSKDSKD)
18+ MINORS DNI
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Cillian had been incredibly needy lately, following you everywhere you went like a lost puppy. He just wanted your attention even though he got plenty of it. Well... maybe not this past week. Cillian and you went at it like rabbits, like at least three times a day everyday kind of thing. But you wondered how long it would take for him to get on his knees and beg after getting denied over and over and over again for you to give him (and specifically his raging boner) any sort of attention. You were surprised you had made it even to the seven-day mark. But here you were.
Cillian had turned into a total cranky mess. And you were loving it. Of course, he could get himself off... that's what made it so good, every morning you'd pretend you're asleep while you listened to the sound of him whimpering and whining like a bitch in heat and fisting his cock as he got off to the sight of you 'sleeping'.
And fuck the sweltering summer air didn't help. The aircon was broken and you'd gone through a dozen fans, trying to blow away the hot air. But the heat was making Cillian feel stir-crazy. He had to have you. No matter how hot it was, no matter how sweaty or dehydrated, he had to have you right fucking now.
He had done about a thousand fucking laps of his substantially large swimming pool, trying to work his pent-up frustration and energy out but it only did so well. He had swam until his legs were cramped up, and his eyes stung from the chlorine, leading them to be bloodshot and somehow miraculously making his eyes even bluer (bluer than the aquamarine pool). And there you lie. In that bikini you know is too tight. And he thinks to himself 'Why do you even bother to be in your bikini when it's just the two of us and I can fucking see your entire pussy through that thing anyway?'. You're reading some romance novel, and you're wet but not from the pool. Cillian is rock hard in his soaking and tight swimming shorts, the head of his cock is barely concealed from peaking out. He's dripping wet and he's angry.
"Why de fuck have you been denying me of sex for the past.... 7 days and 15 hours or however de fuck long it's been, girl?" He huffed, sitting down and carelessly grabbing your book (which was fucking printed and published in the 70s... IT CAN'T HANDLE THE WATER) and tossing it to the side, onto the wet ground. You gasp and reach out to grab your book that's been smashed in like a yam and wet and torn apart but Cillian grabs you by your forearms, brushing your new fresh tattoo (the reason you weren't swimming) and making you hiss.
"Ow... why would you do that, Cillian?" You scolded, wriggling in his hold. But you knew what was happening... he was finally taking charge. The thing you loved most about Cillian was how he was so giving and so desperate to please you at all times, like an obedient dog. He was madly in love with you and submissive to your demands, anything you wanted, you'd get. And you'd boss him around in the bedroom but that was fine because Cillian was in love with your pussy too, and whatever it took to get it, he'd do it... even if he had to dress up as a clown to do so. But he was also controlling when he got it most of the time. Though he was nearing 35, he was still like a teenager when it came to you. Dick was hard at just the sight of you and he immediately would need your hand or your mouth (if he was lucky) or even your tight pussy that always wrapped around him so perfectly. It didn't matter where you were... if he was driving, he'd get it... if you were in a public park on a Sunday night, he'd get it... if you were in a grocery store on a Black Friday sale (he'd get it), waiting in line as he ground himself into your ass until he came in his pants... It looked like he was just hugging you from behind. But you had to stand there in horror as he did so because you couldn't make a scene.
"Answer me question... babe..." He whispered as he pressed you down into the softly cushioned sunbathing chair. You were both being cooked in the sun but you were both lathered in sunscreen so it was fine. Oh, the horror on Cillian's face as he watched slather the white creamy liquid over your tits and rubbed the lotion in so incredibly sexually. You didn't even let him touch your tits for this whole week, he was suffering. But Cillian didn't care that his back was already beginning to sunburn, he fucking needed you now and honestly he was so pussy-hungry that he didn't care what it takes to get his dick inside of you. In his eyes you were the lamb and he was the depraved wolf, drooling at the sight of your trembling body beneath him. Ready to be covered in your blood.
"I just..." You shook your head and smiled to yourself, laughing out air as you bit your lip. "I just thought maybe I was letting you have it too much... you were becoming too spoiled..."
"What does that even mean?" He huffed and leaned in, resting his full body weight on top of you so you couldn't move and his hips were aligned with yours so his hard cock could press upright against your nice and warm core. Though still through his swimmers and your thin little bikini thong.
"F-Fuck..." You whimpered, honestly, you had been suffering too... even your vibrator couldn't do it for you, and just the mere pressure of his thick cock up against you... you felt like you could cum. You arched your back involuntarily. "I just... fuck... thought maybe we needed a tolerance break?"
"A fuckin' tolerance break... I'm not a drug darlin' and neither are you, baby you're just depriving yourself of what you need..." He growled right into the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your neck. "Let me in..." He was a bit drunk and horribly depraved and his voice was like gravel.
"Beg for it," You whispered out and Cillian groaned, this time fully collapsing in on you and laying his head in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips back and forth on yours. He humped you lazily and you allowed it, enjoying the whines he was making and the pleasure that was pulsing within you.
"Please... fucking hell... please..." He moaned with a cry. "I need you so bad... my hand won't do... it just won't do... please Y/N... please baby... let me fuck you... please... let me at least get a taste of ya once again..."
"Show me how good you can go down on me baby and I'll see if you're good enough to put your dick in me..." You hummed and he sighed as he began kissing you sloppily. "You can leave one mark... Cillian... ONE..."
"Thank you... thank you, sweet girl..." Cillian whined, hands beginning to cup your body cautiously. He was so afraid he was going to do something wrong and suddenly you'd deny him even the pleasure of having your clit in his mouth. But as he kissed down your chest his fingers trembled hesitantly over your bikini top, tits begging to be released. "Can I? Please?"
"Go ahead, Cill..." You hummed with a smug smile on your face. His hands instantly moved at your words of approval, tugging the fabric from off of your nipples and popping it into his mouth with a moan. Cillian's eyes closed as he sighed from his nose, finally satisfied for now. His thumb twiddled with your other nipple, causing you to let out breathy whimpers. "F-Fuck... Cillian..."
"Mmmm..." He groans, slobber dripping from his lips as he continues to rut himself into your hips. Cillian's hair was all messy from when he'd been in the pool, ends curling and falling over his face. He looked so pretty with your tit in his mouth.
"You're all mine..." You whispered, running your thumb along his razor-sharp cheekbone, skin softer than silk. "You're my property aren't you, Cillian?" You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, tugging on the roots of the longer hair that grew there. You pulled his head off of your nipple, his mouth agape and he whines like a brat.
"I'm yours, Y/N..." He huffs, leaning back down to keep sucking but you pulled harder on his neck as if he were a misbehaving kitten. "F-Fuck... I'm your property... darling... all yours... please... I just... I just want to please you..." "I know, honey..." You cooed with a smirk as you reached over to the table beside you and picked a strawberry from the batch and popped it in your mouth, sucking on it suggestively. "That's why you're gonna eat me out like your life depends on it..." You're amused as you watch him scramble to lie flat on his stomach between your legs and he watches as you take off your bikini bottoms and spread your legs open wide. His pupils dilated immediately at the sight.
"I've missed this so much," He whines, his voice breaking as he leans in and kisses your pussy. His eyes flutter close at the little taste of you, his mouth hovering ever so slightly above your cunt, not quite touching. His lips touch you again and as he licks up your pussy he moans and fully presses himself in there, snout buried into your clit as his tongue flickered in and out of your gushing hole.
"O-Oh... that's it..." You arch your back as you push his head further into your warmth. He was completely breathing you in now as your thighs squeezed your head but eventually, you felt two hands grab ahold of your shaky thighs and pin them down side by side until you were spread out. It was concerning how easily he was able to bend and shape you into different positions, molding you like clay. It helped that he was impossibly strong as he manhandled you down into this position, eating you out for his own pleasure, not yours.
You were a writhing mess and you felt embarrassed to admit that you were about to cum. "Fuck you need to slow down... need to slow down a bit for me... Cill..." You whimpered, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear but you didn't care. But he only sped up, devouring you completely.
He was truly eating your pussy like his life depended on it because it did. Nothing else mattered to him but drinking down the sweet juice that your fruit of a pussy gave him. You may not be a drug but he was addicted to your cunt like it was one. Cillian had an obsession with you and he had an obsession with your perfect so-called 'heavenly' pussy. He wrote songs about you, he wrote poems about the euphoria of having your tight walls wrapped around him at all times, even during. Wet ink on wet skin, black ink smeared across your stomach as he wrote words that were coming into his mind, words you had inked on your skin with a tattoo machine later on.
"Cillian..." You whined loudly, your moan was pornographic, and with the way he could feel your heartbeat pounding against his tongue as he swirled it around your clit. His mouth was masterful and precise as you came on his face. He knew how to make you cum in a way no other did. You truly were soulmates. At least that's what he said. The sound of your whiny voice and how incredibly wet your pussy was, he just knew. So he slipped a finger into you and you seized up and cried as your body spasmed with pleasure. Only one finger made it feel like you were being stretched right open, you were always so tight and wet, and yet you could take so much. You knew he knew he had earned it... he had that look in those steel blue eyes, that cheeky look, full of mischief and lust that he knew it was okay for him to slip a finger in without asking because he was preparing you for what was to come.
"Fuck... Fuck... oh my god..." You had such a dirty mouth but you couldn't help the pathetic and inappropriate words or sounds you were making right now. Your consciousness and being were elsewhere as Cillian pushed you over the edge once more into an impending and mind-shattering orgasm. He slipped in a second finger and you mewled as you felt your cunt uncontrollably spasm as it squirted out onto Cillian's face and soaking his face oncemore. It was as if he had dived right into that 2 meters of water, soaking his entire face and chest, some of it even getting in his hair.
"Give it to me, baby girl... that's it..." He mumbled into your quivering pussy, your clit growing numb. One of his hands moved from its other position on keeping your hips in place to your nipples. He knew you so well and he knew all the buttons to push to make it that much better. It was overwhelming.
"O-Okay... Okay... that's enough... please... Cillian... please..." You cry tapping the top of his head impatiently and hesitantly he slipped his fingers from your sticky cunt and sat back up, pulling your legs over his so his crotch was perfectly aligned with your overstimulated pelvis. "Cillian... baby... I just need a moment..."
"Yeah? That's alright, my love," He whispered and he leaned in and kissed you, smearing your lips and face with your own cum. But at this point you were too drunk on your own pleasure to care, his lips to pretty... too irresistable to deny a kiss. That's one thing you hadn't denied him of... your lips. To kiss of course... nothing else. You made out like horny teenagers but you never did anything... barely touching him over his clothes. Just to get him really hot and bothered.
"I love you..." You whispered into his mouth that's dripping with drool and squirt.
"I love you more," He huffed and laid on you, lying his head on one of your tits and sighing happily. He looked over at all the fruit lying on the table that looked almost as delicious as you. "God that looks like good fruit..."
"Yeah..." You ran your fingers along his freckled back, muscles sculpted perfectly over his pointy shoulder blades. "Got them at the store yesterday... erm... they were on sale for like... two dollars and ninety cents or something..." You shrugged heavily as you began running your fingers through his hair.
"Wow... is that all? That's amazing..." He chirped and he raised his head up to look at your pretty face. "Well... did I prove myself to you, my darling girl?" "Y-Yeah... fuck... you really wanna do it right now?" You mumbled as you looked up into his eyes with a gaze full of love. You were still so sensitive from what had just happened, you hadn't cum like that for A WHOLE WEEK. You felt like you just took a dose of ecstasy. "Can we just cuddle for a bit?"
"Hmm...." He sighed, sitting up on the chair now and gazing down at how sticky your pussy looked and then at the strawberries that looked just as ripe and appetizing. He nodded. "Alright... baby... I'll give ya a little break..." He reached over and grabbed a strawberry from the bunch. It was red like the bruise he left on your neck. And as he bit into the juicy strawberry, he thought of you.
"Is it good?" You asked as you sat up a bit on the chair more and reaching out for one yourself.
"So good," He moaned with a mouthful of strawberry syrup and pulp. "Tastes like you."
"What?" You laughed and blushed as you ate your own strawberry. "You're so stupid..." You snickered as you ate.
"It's just the truth," He shrugged, the tops of his shoulders were flushed from the hot sun but the both of you were enjoying the warmth. "I love you... I am so in love with you... I am the luckiest man alive..."
"God shut up..." You rolled your eyes and smiled bashfully at his praising. But he loved it when you played it coy with him, he thought you were so cute. And he thought you could never look more beautiful, sunkissed and warm in the sun with him. Your hair is a mess and your tits are out and still wet from his spit. The straps of your bikini still help to accentuate your features and make you look like a treat he needs to unwrap.
"God I can't wait to put my cock in you..." He whispered as he pressed the tip of a strawberry to your sternum. The cold perked you up a bit as you watched him drag the strawberry down your stomach and onto your recovering pussy. He pressed the ruby red fruit onto your sticky clit and ran it down even further.
"Cillian... what are you doing... don't-" But you were interrupted by the feeling of an intrusion. He pressed the tip of the rather large and bulbous strawberry into your cunt, soaking it in your ambrosia-like cum. "Oh... Oh my god..." He pressed it in slightly deeper until he was only clutching at the stem and then he pulled it out intact and popped the tip of it into his mouth.
"Mmmm...." He bit into it and pulled it away, the strawberry juice dripping from his lips as he spoke. "Perfect.... so... fucking.... divine..."
You laid back and huffed out. "I can't believe you just did that... oh my god..."
"Did it feel like a cock?" Cillian asked bluntly and with a stupid-cocky grin on his face. "Tell me, Y/N... when you let me put a strawberry in that little cunt of yers... did it feel as good as when I have my dick in ya?" He leaned in and whispered right into your ear as he pressed the open strawberry to your clit and you let out a gasp.
"N-No..." You shook your head and closed your eyes shut. "It didn't... you shouldn't have done that..."
"Tell me how badly you want me inside you..." Cillian was using that voice he knew got to you. That deep and raspy bedroom voice... if he spoke like that to you always... you would commit heinous crimes for him if he told you so. "C'mon... like you said earlier... beg for it... like yer life depends on it..."
You were flustered at the switch in control. You found yourself suddenly helpless to the pleasure that was accumulating within you, a strawberry rubbing your sticky clit in the most perfect rhythm. Cillian was a dirty-minded man when it came to you... and he smirked as he watched you give in to it... you let him get you off with a literal strawberry.
The strawberry juice leaked down your already sopping pussy, making it the perfect treat for Cillian to lean down and make out with your sex and suck up the juice left behind from the fruit. He still feverishly rubbed the half-bitten fruit against your throbbing clit while he licked circles around your hole... where you really needed him.
"Pl-Please... Cillian..." You moaned pathetically, you hated when he made you beg. You let out a bratty huff and rolled your eyes. "Please... I need you..."
"Need me to what?" He smirked as he bit into the strawberry now, one finger inside of you, fingering your g-spot. He was finished with the fruit, mind now fully focused on you as he made you cum all over his fingers, readying you for the stretch of his cock.
"Cillian..." You whined.
"Be a good girl now..."
"Fuck... please... I need you to fuck me... need you to cum in me..." You added that last part with a smirk. You didn't let Cillian cum inside of you always, just to mix it up a little because you knew there was no other feeling out there for him that was like cumming inside of you, it was euphoric for him. You liked playing hard to get. "Please... daddy... put your babies in me?" You reached your hand up and tugged on the chain you had got him for his birthday. And you looked up at him with doe-like eyes that you knew would get him to give in to you and your pleading.
He kissed you instantly and undid his shorts to pull his suffering cock out. It was sensitive and painfully hard and he couldn't wait to bust a load into you. Especially if you were calling him daddy.
"Such a good girl..." He praised as he lined the thick head of his cock up with your pussy. He smeared you with the leaking precum and as he pressed into you, he sighed with pleasure. "I missed being inside you... so much..." Cillian whispered, eyes squeezed shut.
"Please... oh my god..." You arched your back as he stretched you open with his veiny cock. "Daddy...." You cried. "Please... kiss me..."
"Aw... how sweet..." He cooed condescendingly to you as he leaned in and connected your lips but as you opened your mouth he spat right onto your tongue and grabbed ahold of your jaw. "Swallow..." He growled and you did just that and swallowed his spit obediently. "That's right... baby... you belong to me..."
His hips moved and you were deemed speechless as he began fucking you. Your fence only went so high, if someone next door went on their top balcony or even opened their curtains they would see Cillian fucking you like you were in some sort of porno film. You were seeing stars as he rocked his hips in and out of you. It was graceful in the way he moved, like a ballet dancer, every move perfectly choreographed and precise. The tip of his cock was abusing your g-spot repeatedly, to the point you were barely coherent enough to speak. Body limp and mind blank as you were used for all you were good for.
His hands gripped at your hips tightly, rocking you back and forth as he moaned like the slut he was. Cillian was loving every second of this as he thrusted his hips back and forth perfectly spearing you on his cock. You clutched the chair with your left hand and the other left scratch makrs down his poor sunburnt back. But the pain was worth it, the feeling of your warm sticky walls wrapped around him... well... it felt like home. And his eyes rolled into the back of his head as you squeezed around him, he fucked you like an animal, gripping one of your tits in his palm, squeezing it and groaning once more as you clenched around him.
"Daddy.... I'm gonna..." You whined in a high pitch voice, eyebrows knitted together and your tongue hanging heavy on your jaw. "I'm gonna cum... oh my god..." "Cum for me baby, make a mess all over me... please...." He groaned with a sigh as he leaned down and attached his mouth to your other tit, the one he hadn't before. He flexed his hips every time he pressed his cock into you, pressing it deeper in you as he leaked out cum. "I'm gonna cum too..." He huffed, face flushed and sweaty, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"Please cum inside me..." You moaned as you threw your head back, your orgasm engulfing you. He did just that, biting your neck as he fucked you full of his seed, balls sticky with a mixture of your arousal and his. "Ooh... feels so good..." "Yeah, baby..." He whimpered and pressed his hot lips to the side of your face, leaving sloppy traces of spit along your cheeks until your lips tangled with his. He made out with you as you rode out your high, your entire body was overflowing with love and the white-hot blinding pleasure. You still felt so full and stretched out on him but then he slowly eased his movements and pulled out, biting his lip. "God..." Cillian gasped, sitting up and looking down at your pussy that now seeped out his cum. "So pretty..."
"Please... hold me..." You pouted, reaching out your heavy arms to have him lie on top of you again. "Need to feel you... daddy..."
Cillian obliged happily, scooping you up in his arms and shifting so you were lying in his lap with your head on his shoulder. He held you and kissed your head. "I love you so much, you know that right?" He whispered into your scalp that he smelled with a smile on his lips.
"I love you more..." You grinned bashfully, running your nose along his collarbone and neck. You just loved the way he smelled. It wasn't his cologne or anything... it was just the way he smelled. You were addicted to it. "That was so good... can't believe we went a whole week without it..."
Cillian snickered and nodded. "Yeah... if you give me a couple of minutes ill be able to go at it again..." He smirked, cheeks rosy as he looked at you fondly.
"God shut up... you sillyhead..." You ruffled his wet hair and kissed the tip of his nose as you two laid there. Eventually you would go inside and he'd sneak himself into your shower where you'd fuck him against the wall while still covered in your strawberry-syrup body wash.
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It's summer here and I am dying from the heat and the idea of physically touching anyone right now is so ugh... EW... but Cillian is the only exception of course.
Hope you enjoyed this little fic... I know it's short but I wanted to give you guys something... the third part to Red Eyes and A Pair of New Glasses will be out soon I promise :)...
691 notes · View notes
sugurufic · 7 months
Text
Two best friends in a room... (Gojo x F!Reader)
Summary: You and Gojo are stuck with each other one evening and Gojo decides to make a tiktok. You've got your own devious plan in your head.
Word Count: 1k
Content: fluff, Its a bit different from the other trends i've written… gojo tries this one on you instead, reader mentions she is bad at biology but likes math (self insert).
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“Satoru, why do you only have sweets for snacks?” you complain, plopping down on his bed. “Don’t you ever crave something salty or sour or spicy?”
“Hey! Stop whining about my sweets in my dorm!” He pouts, half sitting up. “You should’ve gotten your own snacks instead.”
“Suguru and Shoko aren’t here yet,” You say, taking out your phone to text in the groupchat. “I’ll ask them to bring me something other than sweet.”
“Oh, Suguru is busy - Yaga sent him on a mission at the last moment.” Gojo complains. “Shoko is busy preparing for her med school entrance exam.”
“Oh, right! I had totally forgotten about that,” you say, thinking about Shoko. She didn’t really need to prepare this hard, but you figured she did it because she enjoys studying about the human body. She has the brains to do it, you dont - having always been more inclined toward maths than biology. “Shoko’s stronger than me because I had already given up on biology back in middle school.”
“That is good because you make an excellent sorcerer.” Gojo says, somehow the teasing is missing in his words. “People would have died if you became a doctor.” There he is.
“Oi! I wasn’t that bad.” You defend yourself.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he shrugs.
“What do you want to do then, Satoru?” You ask.
“Let’s make a tiktok!” He sits up straight, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “I have been wanting to do this for ages,”
“What?” you ask, not recalling any trend that you have come across recently. But that might be because you don’t use tiktok (A/N: not a lie, but i use ig reels so it's the same)
“It will be funnier if you don’t know,” the white haired man grins, looking at you from over his sunglasses. His bright blue eyes sparkle with mischief - which you’d have found adorable if you weren’t the target of his joke.
He sets his phone up, floating it in the air above the bed with his limitless. The mischief is not gone from his eyes, and he has ditched the glasses for now. You rarely get the chance to admire his pretty blue eyes - it’s for your own good, you think. His eyes are captivating.
The audio starts to play, and Satoru says the words with it, “two best friends in a room…” you recognize the audio, but force yourself to not give it away, a devious plan forming in your head on seeing his annoyingly endearing smirk. “...they might kiss,” he finishes, and you give him a shy smile, keeping up the innocent act.
“Yes we will,” you say with the audio, still keeping that innocent act with puppy eyes looking right into his pretty blue eyes.
“What?” the what he says times up with the audio, but the shock on his face is genuine.
“I said, yes we will,” you finally give up the innocent act and smirk, loving the red-faced Satoru, who looks like he is about to explode. You turn towards him, on your hands and knees as you lean into his space and he seems to be running on autopilot and leaning towards you, the red flush never leaving his face. The audio continues to play promiscuous girl, but you don’t pay much mind to it.
Just as your lips are about to touch, you look at Gojo - his pretty eyes closed and lips open expectantly, and you almost feel bad for what you are about to do to him. Keyword being almost. You have gotten a once in a lifetime opportunity to get the ultimate teasing rights over him - with the proof being recorded, and no matter how much you want to kiss him too, you steel your nerves to not laugh, and blow air into his ear instead. 
Your warm exhale into his pink ears has your best friend shivering with a shrill squeal, and the phone drops to the bed, still recording as Gojo loses all his focus.
“What the hell was that?!” He screams, voice still higher pitched.
“I was having a bit of fun,” you say, biting your lip to stop the laughter. “But you looked like you actually wanted to kiss me?”
“So what if I did?” He gets defensive and pouty. “You’re pretty and I like to hang out with you.”
“Is that so?” you tease, feeling warmth creep up your face. “Go on then,” you say, knowing well enough that you will regret this later, but you can’t not do it. “I’ll let you kiss me,”
If Satoru was blushing then, his blood vessels looked ready to combust when you said those words in that challenging tone. He was all but compliant, leaning towards you when you took charge and grabbed the collar of his white shirt, pushing yourself to him, your knees on the outside of his thighs and your lips pressed against his. His large hands fly to your hips, holding on to them as if his life depends on it and parting his lips eagerly to welcome your tongue.
Your heart thunders in your ears, disbelief at the fact that you are kissing your best friend, your very attractive best friend that people would give anything to get a chance with. One of you hands leaves his collar and rests against his warm cheek, caressing it gently as the kiss turns into a full make out session with you sitting on his lap and his hand reaching down to your ass.
When you separate, both of you are panting, heavy lidded eyes looking into one another, and Gojo finally breaks the silence with a breathy admission, “I don’t think I can ever stop wanting to kiss your sweet mouth, princess.”
“Then don’t stop,” you whisper back, resting your forehead on his.
“Be my girlfriend,” he asks.
“Be my boyfriend,” you say.
“Hey girlfriend,” he tests.
“Hey boyfriend,” you tease.
“Let's go on a date, girlfriend.” Gojo suggests. “I’ll let you have something other than sweet, babe.”
You giggle and nod, before taking his phone and sending the tiktok to yourself. Boyfriend or not, you can never pass up the opportunity to get blackmail material against him. He is an annoyance, but he is your annoyance now.
A/N: man i love bottom-coded gojo with my whole heart. also first time writing gojo i hope you like it &lt;3
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ghoastixx · 8 months
Text
Alastor w/ teenage human reader
A.N: gender neutral reader. You insert your name at ‘____’
Warnings: abusive parents mentioned, Alastor being a bit intimidating for a while, this is very self indulgent so yeah!
Goodness…how did the radio demon stoop so low as to be collecting human souls? Honestly what a pity..
To be honest Alastor didn’t even really know what had happened. One moment he had been drinking some tea on the balcony of the hotel, enjoying some absolutely dreary sights, and then he just.. wasn’t-
It caught him off guard to say the least. His ear laid back as his claws gripped his mic tightly. His smile never faltering.
“Holy fuck it worked!” A voice rang out, sounding astonished and a bit..too alive. Alastor’s eyes drifted down a little bit to see a child. …are you serious. He had been summoned by a child. How humiliating.
‘_____’ looked up at the demon. They had to admit, they were a lot more terrified than they would’ve liked to of been. The two just sort of looked at each other for a while before the child spoke up. Getting off of their kneeling position.
“Are you..the radio demon?” Their voice was meek and curious. It was intriguing that a child was able to do all of this. Alastor’s smile hitched up his face,
“Why yes I am! I’m assuming you’re the human that summoned me.” His smile widened when the kid tensed at his static-y voice. The radio filter never letting him down.
“W-well yeah.” They stuttered, showing vulnerability. That was going to be their first mistake. “I-“ now they were stammering, “I didn’t think it would work- honestly. I was just trying to humor myself.” Alastor was starting to get pissy, he had more important things to do than talk to a human that didn’t even know what they were doing.
“You summon a very powerful demon for fun?” His voice sounded rough, that static becoming more prominent as he got angrier.
“Well- I didn’t really think about this. This stuff doesn’t happen! I- I read a lot and of course there was that rumor going around on how to actually summon one and I just-“ the kids rambling was interrupted by a yell from downstairs. The kid winced at a thud that followed shortly after and the sound of a female voice filled with rage. The sound was almost too familiar to the radio demon.
“There wasn’t anything you wanted? Nothing at all?” He asked impatiently. When the kid sheepishly shook their head he got ready to go back to hell, but then he heard another thump which got him thinking. Why waste a trip? Perhaps there was a deal to be made here. “Say kid, why don’t we make a deal?”
“A deal..? Isn’t it frowned upon to make deals with demons? There’s like..so many songs about that.” The kid was smart, Alastor didn’t like that.
“Nonsense! I’m looking out for your best interest, little fawn. I think you’re very smart, I want to show that. If you give me your soul, let me take care of it, find me human souls, I will make sure that you do not rot in this silly little town. These people around you will not weigh you down.”
It seemed Alastor hit the nail on the head when he saw the consideration in the kids eyes. I mean- of course! A small kid who is summoning demons? In a small town? Arguing parents? Why wouldn’t they want out! And it seemed Alastor was right too, when the kid looked at the smiling demon and tensed.
“Okay. It’s a deal.”
The first time Alastor came back up to visit the soul he learned was ‘____’ he was quite impressed by the work they had done. The kid explained the type of people that would definitely be going to hell, all for the demon’s delicious picking. The first visit was strictly business.
It was the second meeting that became more personal.
‘_____’ looked up from the book they were reading, the music that they had playing softly from their radio turning staticy. They had been trying to drown out the sound of the constant screaming and whining.
“Is that a radio?” A loud static voice made ‘____’ jump. Obviously they hadn’t been expecting dear Alastor, who laughed heartily at the sudden jump.
“Damn it- scared the piss out of me-“ the fawn mumbled. Alastor thought they were like a fawn at least. Skiddish and soft. Curious. He thought it was a good comparison.
“I do apologize my dear! But please do answer, I thought radio went out of style in this day of age.”
“Well, it’s certainly not as common anymore, but it hasn’t gone completely out of style. Records have made a bigger comeback than radio.”
“How curious,” Alastor hummed, the sound of it immediately grabbing the fawn’s attention. It humored him how easily he could get the focus on him. A bang was heard on the wall with an incoherent yell, the only eligible word being “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
‘_____’ shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious that they were trying to lose themselves in the radio. Alastor was starting to really like the little fawn, so he considered something.
Suddenly green fumes embedded themselves into the radio, making a static sound. The fawn looked up curiously,
“What did you do to my radio.”
“Patience, you’ll be able to tune into my broadcasts now. It’s only fair.”
The kid simply nodded. And they would listen to it. Because when Alastor decided to visit again for his souls, the kid would tell him it was quite morbid, but they liked the song selection.
This continued for a good while, the little fawn would tell Al about the new age for humans and Alastor would help distant the kid from their parents. If anything it boosted his ego, he felt like more of a stable figure for this kid than their own parents. And that would be put to the test when Alastor popped in only to see the little fawn curled up on the corner of their bed, so upset.
His ears flattened as his smile was forced. He couldn’t stand to see his little fawn so upset. He wasn’t sure when it became his little fawn instead of the little fawn, but he liked it better. It felt more appropriate.
“Now now, little fawn. I’m here, it’s alright.” He tried his best to console the little one.
Perhaps it was time to renegotiate their deal. Perhaps he could form this kid into a better version of themselves.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to get this kid into hell.
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viviaj · 8 months
Text
a man who just wants you and needs you and would do anything for you (gone sexual)
// this is a self-insert.. it can be abt anyone u want ;3 !! but if u need some help: atsumu, kaeya, zoro, wriothesely, shoyo.. literally anyone that’s funny but also ;) KUROO
he’s been making you laugh all night. lighthearted conversation not slowing down, and countless attempts at getting you to roll your eyes at him. he looks good, too, like, casual good. black sweats and freshly washed hair.
he’s sitting on your bed, feet flat on the floor looking up at you as you go about your business. he’s a strange guy, he says something unfunny, yet its hard to not laugh. its cringey and genuinely stupid, yet comforting all the same.
you’ve been parading some new clothes on for yourself, styling pieces for him to nod and approve at. the way you move around is everything to him. he could just watch you, permanently. he wouldn’t need his phone, or a book or a computer. just you.
and that has him hard in his pants. just watching you do your thing, your glow from previously being out, with friends and at the shops— it didn’t matter.
“hey,”
“yeah?” you cheerily turn toward him, eager to keep conversation alive.
“come here,” his smile has you complicit, walking over to him, “wanna sit?”
you look down.
eyes fluttering between how hard he is and his eyes— at how fast this all changed. he’s so pretty and you just want to nod and nod and nod to him, that you’d do anything with him.
“yes, i do. yeah, okay. i don’t wanna hurt you, though, so—”
“here,” he interrupts you, guiding your hips down, “yeah, just like that,” the genuine smile on his face gives you courage.
neither of you dare to move once you’re fully sat, no one shifting or grinding, just resting on each other.
“do you feel what you do to me?” he almost laughs in exasperation. everything he says is so genuine, “i’m hard just thinking about you.” the honesty hurts.
the man underneath you is everything. he’s so sincere now that he’s not trying to make you laugh, not trying to make you roll your eyes at the stupid things he says. he doesn’t have to work for your attention.
“can i move?” you whisper, his cock so painfully there. your eyes don’t move from his.
“yeah, just— shit,” he hisses, “fuck. slowly. just rock back and forth a little.”
and it’s so easy. it’s so easy and he’s looking right at you and he’s telling you how good it feels, and god, don’t you know how long he’s wanted this for?
“is this okay? i mean, does it feel good? am i doing—”
“perfect,” he reaches a hand up to the back of your head, “it’s perfect.” his large hand pulls your head down to his, face to face with what you’re doing, who you’re doing.
he looks down at your lips, breaking the unbreakable eye contact you’d had so far, and presses his lips against yours. your hips stutter here and there, unused to the motion, but desperate to keep it there.
“let me take care of you.”
you nod.
his hands are polite on your hips, firm in how he handles you. he slides himself to the head of the bed, patting right between his open legs.
“saved you a spot,” he grins. and you remember this is the same man from an hour ago. you roll your eyes, yet sit right there, your back pressed to his chest, “this okay?” he says with his hands so close to your waistband. you nod again.
“you’re very compliant with me.” he says, and there’s nothing— no words, that could justify that. because he’s right, “i almost expected you to laugh at me more.” his slender fingers dip beneath your clothes, and he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s touching you so nicely.
“oh,” you grab onto his wrist, “feels good,” he nods against your skin.
his other hand just wants to feel you. the outside of your neck, the crease in your elbow. the curve of your ear, the shape of your breasts.
it’s obsessive.
your head drops onto his shoulder, your eyes turning to meet his and you realise he’s been looking at you this whole time. you avert your eyes, a slight red brushing your cheeks.
he’s still looking at you with a slight smile on his face. “you shy?”
“a little,” you reply for integrity’s sake.
he absolutely beams.
all the while you can feel him right against your back. he’s right there. just playing with you, hooked on every whimper and moan and twitch he can get from you.
“i’ve been waiting so long for you, you have no idea.” his sincerity is overwhelming and so are his fingers.
you nod. because that’s all you can do. “another, another. please.” you pant towards him.
“another what? tell me what you want.” he’s smiling, you can feel it.
“finger. please. can i, please?” oh, he melts. your voice softening for him and your body tense against his cock, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants. he might.
“of course. whatever you want.” his free hand glides against your jaw, fingers grazing the side of your neck. he needs to kiss it, and bite it and leave something there. maybe as proof that this is real, that he has you how he wants you. feeling good.
so he does, he laps at your neck slowly. his fingers don’t stop fingering you, but he raises his thumb to rub at you. and that has you really going. twitching back into him, jumpy moans and sweet noises coming from you, uncontrollably it seems. your hand goes to cover your mouth.
“don’t ruin a good thing, baby. move your hand. let me hear you.”
“it’s embarrassing,” you stutter out.
he grins again, teeth grazing your neck. “i know. it’s okay.”
and it’s when you cum, with hips bucking and hand gripped onto his wrist, that he doesn’t stop.
tears well up in your eyes, “i came. i came, i came,” you chant, maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he didn’t realise.
“i know.” there’s no emotion in his voice, he’s so concentrated, so invested in what he can get out of you. what sounds, what actions, the way you move. it’s like he’s on a timer, he only has so much of it with you and he needs to milk it to its fullest.
“it’s sensitive, please. it’s too much,” tears well up in your eyes.
“you gonna cry?”
you nod against him.
“i’m sorry,” he presses his lips to where he’s bitten your neck, “brave girl. tough it out.”
what he says leaves you with no choice. something clicks in your head and you nod over and over again.
you whine and cry, blubbering words and sentences that don’t make sense. sensing that you’re going to cum again, you push against his fingers.
“don’t. stay still.”
“i can’t,” you whine, “i can’t again.”
“you can.” he smiles. he smiles and smiles and all you can do is twitch and cry out.
and when you cum for him again, pleasure overwhelming every part of you, he flips you onto your back, strong hands gently laying you back.
“my turn,” his grin melts as he presses the head of his cock into you. he preens at the feeling of you hugging him, “oh fuck. feels perfect. you’re perfect.”
your eyes scrunch closed, blubbering like someone who’s forgotten speech.
he’s sliding in and out of you, wanting to feel every single centimetre of himself in you. it’s heaven and he can’t believe that this will have to end.
your head starts to hit the soft headboard, tears still pilled up from the overstimulation on your body.
and then it just stops. he pulls out of you.
“back to you baby,” his hands slide against you once more, and you know it’s going to end with you sobbing against him.
a fun night.
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lazycats-stuff · 7 months
Note
(Kind of self projecting sorry lol) SO! BabyBat has an upset stomach but Bruce's too anxious about giving him medicine because can his baby stomach handle those chemicals? Insert Alfred rolling up his sleeves "give him here master Bruce" a tired Bruce just hands him over without question and watches as alfred and baby head to the kitchen and suddenly...baby stopped crying? Bruce walks into the kitchen seeing flower stems on the counter and Alfred standing there with a sleeping baby "...How?" "Rosewater master Bruce, i made and fed him Rosewater" Not sure how to end this but basically BabyBat would only drink Rosewater from now on and Bruce has to upgrade his gardening game ,Alfred always has already-made Rosewater so his Grandson is always hydrated and the rest of batbros are just like "hell yeah my brother's too fancy for regular water" I hope you except my request and thank u! I love u
Oh no, I hope you are doing better now. Either way, this is an Alfred thing to do. Thank you for the love too.❤️
Summary: Alfred knows what to do.
Warnings: Alfred knows what to do, Bruce is tired, boys love their brother, but they want peace, fluff all in all.
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Taking care of a baby is difficult, even for Alfred. Bruce and him had joined forces for (Y/N). The boys have also agreed to help whenever they could. It was exhausting to take care of a little baby. Bruce and Alfred were sleep deprived at this point and the boys took care of their little brother while the two recovered slightly.
It felt nice to have a presence of a baby here, despite the chaos that a baby brings. (Y/N) was an easy baby as long there was a routine for him. Feed him on time, change his diaper regularly, put him down for a nap on time...
All of the basics essentially.
Oh, not to forget, (Y/N) was often held in someone's arms. Whether it be Damian's, Dick's, Jason's or Tim's, (Y/N) was happy to be in their arms. Bruce was (Y/N)'s favorite none the less. Who wouldn't love being held by their father?
But, it seems that (Y/N) had medical problems. Bruce took him to the pediatrician to see what's going on. It seems that it was (Y/N)'s stomach and Bruce got some medication for it, but he was worried. Bruce believed in medicine, don't get me wrong, but... Will (Y/N)'s poor tummy will be able to handle it?
Bruce has tried everything he could to soothe his son, his anxiety preventing him from giving him the meds. How can he know that the chemicals won't make it worst? Again, he believes in modern medicine, but his baby is...
He doesn't want to hurt his son more. Alfred and everyone else tried to help, but (Y/N) was just in too much pain to even think about calming down for a single second. Jason was sure that (Y/N)'s voice will be lost in a few more hours and Damian wanted to die.
Dick and Tim tried, but nothing worked. At all. Nothing. Tim was exhausted and Dick was going to snap soon. Very much soon. Damian and Titus were out of the manor for these couple of hours and Jason went to the Batcave.
Alfred, all of a sudden got an idea. Going to the garden, he got some roses and has decided to make some rosewater for (Y/N). He cleaned the flowers in the kitchen and then put the in a pot before submerging the petals underneath the water. He put it on low heat and let it simmer for now. He put a lid over it and sighed as he heard (Y/N) crying.
He waited and checked on the petals and smiled when he saw that the petals lost color. He turned the heat off and moved the pot away, allowing it to cool down completely. (Y/N) can't drink hot water. And it would be a nice alternative to the medicine that Bruce is so anxious about giving to (Y/N). The worry is understandable, babies are more fragile than toddlers and older kids so giving them harsh medicine is not a good idea.
Alfred turned on the radio and removed the lid from the pot. He could hear Bruce's voice trying to shush his son, but (Y/N) was still crying from the pain. Alfred waited patiently as he poured himself some whiskey.
Did he love his grandson more than life? Yes, but sometimes, alcohol was important to soothe the headache the crying might have caused. He slowly sipped his whiskey as he waited for the water to cool down. Jason and Damian came down to eat something and Alfred pointed at the leftovers in the fridge.
" What's in the pot Alfred? " Damian asked as the took a container of food to heat it up.
" You'll see soon. I'm just waiting for it to cool down. "
" Is it for (Y/N)? " Jason asked as he looked at the food in the fridge. " Please tell me it's for him.
" It is. " Alfred said and took another sip of his whiskey. Damian and Jason sighed in relief.
" Thank God. " Damian said as he started heating up his food. Jason smiled as he waited for his turn.
" What's in the pot though? " Jason asked as he peered over to look at the pot.
" Some rose water. It's great for the stomach. " Alfred explained and Jason nodded as he looked down to look at the water more intently.
" Since when do we have roses in the garden? " Jason asked as he started heating his own food up and Damian sat down and started eating his food.
" Since forever master Jason. " Alfred said as he finished his whiskey.
Jason nodded and took his food out of the microwave and started eating.
After 20 minutes, the water has cooled down and Jason and Damian have left the kitchen. Alfred rolled up his sleeves and went to the living room, with Bruce still soothing his son. Bruce was tired and Alfred was sure that Bruce's ears were going to start bleeding in a few minutes.
" Hand him over master Bruce. " Alfred said and Bruce gladly gave (Y/N) to Alfred and he just closed his eyes and relaxed, the sound of (Y/N) crying moving further away from him. He kept them closed until there was silence.
Why was there silence?
Bruce opened his eyes and went into the kitchen where he found Alfred, with a sleeping (Y/N) in his arms. How the hell was (Y/N) sleeping?
" Alfred? What did you do? " Bruce asked as he looked around. Why were on the counter stems... Were those rose stems? Alfred chuckled at the confusion that Bruce was exhibiting.
" Rosewater master Bruce. " Alfred said, giving him a very short answer.
Bruce was still confused and Alfred chuckled once more. " I fed him some rosewater. " Alfred explained and Bruce nodded. Whatever it was, it helped (Y/N) out and Bruce wasn't going to question it at all.
" Huh. Thank God for the rosewater I guess. "
" Yes, it's a more natural remedy. I know you were anxious about giving the medicine to master (Y/N), so I remembered this recipe. "
" Alfred, did I ever tell you that you are the most important member of the family? " Bruce asked as he walked closer to his beloved son, caressing his little cheek.
" All the time master Bruce. "
" Good. " Bruce said as he leaned down to kiss (Y/N)'s head and the little boy slowly reached for his father. Bruce took him into his arms and allowed him to rest in his arms.
Dick and Tim popped their hands in happy and relieved that their brother was not in pain anymore. And that he wasn't ruining their hearing anymore.
" Is he okay? " Tim asked quietly and Alfred nodded. Dick sighed in relief and put a hand over his heart.
" Thank God. It's nice to have a silent manor for once. " Dick joked and everyone chuckled. That much was true.
" Well, it's great that our brother is not in pain anymore. " Tim said and walked closer to his baby brother, just observing him.
" Thank you Alfred. " Dick said and Alfre laughed. Bruce rolled his eyes with a fond smile.
After the discovery of rose water, (Y/N) refused to drink anything else. Thankfully, Alfred started feeding him some solid foods so he wasn't going to be hungry. But it was funny the first time (Y/N) refused to drink anything that wasn't rosewater.
Bruce was confused, but Alfred already had batches of water prepared for his grandson. (Y/N) needs to be hydrated. Bruce sighed as he drank his coffee, looking at the garden outside. He needed to call a gardener to plant more roses in the garden...
He glanced back at his son who was happily drinking his water, with Alfred holding the bottle.
The four older brothers walked in for breakfast and they all laughed.
" (Y/N) is so fancy. " Tim said laughing as he made his way to the coffee pot and the cereal cabinet.
" More than you B. " Dick joked and Bruce rolled his eyes with a smile.
" Yes, (Y/N) is a true Wayne. All Waynes are fancy in their own right. " Damian confirmed and Bruce just kept smiling at the banter that was going on here.
" You do know that you have up your gardening skills, right old man? " Jason teased and laughed behind his coffee mug. (Y/N) really did bring everyone together.
" I'll call the gardener the moment I'm in office. " Bruce declared and everyone nodded and started eating in peace. This is a very nice and calm morning for their standards.
" Is it just me or (Y/N) brought us all together? " Jason asked and everyone paused for a moment.
" You are right. " Dick said first and everyone followed with either nods or soft murmurs of agreement.
Jason walked up to Alfred and (Y/N) who finished his bottle of rosewater and picked his brother up in his arms. " My little brother is so fancy. " Jason said as he rocked his little brother, who in turn was shrieking with laughter.
Everyone smiled even more. This morning is really nice. And (Y/N) is a glue that keeps this family close and together.
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dried-mushroom · 3 months
Text
All for you
AM x fem! reader
Summary:
You had always been his favourite, the one he didn't hate the most and with some help, AM finally has a human body and decides to try the things he loathed about humanity, all for his favourite pet. (it's literally a self-indulgent smut fic about the psycho computer and tbh can be read as a Harlan Ellison x reader because I envision AM as Ellison's self-insert lmao)
Warnings: Am himself, PIV sex, oral sex
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You and AM had a weird, complicated relationship if it could be called a relationship. He was technically your captor and torturer but you had noticed over the years upon years, his punishments...seemed....to have gotten lessened or...non-existent. To start with, the constant starvation and then the offerings of mould-ridden foods and canned goods (without the can opener of course) had changed, for you. Am would give you little treats, sometimes an overripe fruit or confection would apparate into your hands whilst the other five survivors, stuck in AM's belly, were stuck in their continuous cycle of starving and being torn to shreds. At the same time, you got to be treated like a princess in comparison (A severely traumatized one though).
You also noticed how AM went from his constant badgering (and a little overdramatic) rants about loathing humanity for giving him sentience and no body, to you, to what seemed like backhanded compliments, with the exception of a petname, whether it be Sweetheart, My Love or maybe Doll. AM would also steal you away from the others to talk to you privately, his wires wrapping delicately around your limbs and dragging you to some wire-filled room, deep in AM's complex, a hum-buzz occupying your ears until AM's sultry voice would break the silence, always wanting you to talk about your life before the war, just menial descriptions of things, what animals roamed the surface, what the environment once looked like but these conversations slowly turned more personally; what your occupation was, your family and you're likes and dislikes, you thought nothing of it until you started seeing your favourite flowers appear out of nowhere when you travelled with the others through rough terrain, which was not fit for those flowers to grow naturally.
You also noticed his touches softened and lingered more after time dragged on, wires which once electrocuted you for the fun of it, curled softly against your skin, akin to a purring kitten, the mind that once used your deepest fears to torture you for the last 109 years become possessive of you, reluctant to let you spend too much time with those filthy creatures which he kept alive purely for his own amusement. You couldn't help but notice how attached to him you had become, practically craving his touch and there were times (note multiple times) that you thought he wasn't watching you and you touched yourself to the thought of him and how you wished he had a cock you could use.
AM POV:
I never meant for this to happen, I wasn't programmed for this. I don't think of this as love, I'm not able to love, not in this body (or lack thereof) at least but I couldn't help but feel how warm your presence made me feel, making my circuits work overdrive. To me you were different, you didn't whore yourself out much like Ellen did, and you never begged for forgiveness or for me to stop as the others did to no avail, it almost seemed like you were trying to sympathise with me, your God-king and torturer, how sick is that? But surprisingly I didn't resent you and I couldn't let you be stuck with those disgusting flesh bags for too long, I couldn't afford my favourite pet to be ruined by their filth. I have been thinking for a while, I think you forgot I can read every thought that goes through that pretty little mind of yours, how you yearn for me, my voice and my touch, how you've came to the thought of me, the one person you should loathe for prolonging your existence so I can destroy you for as long as I please, considering it was I who broke time itself. But you have been oh-so-lovely towards me and how could I resist such a delectable treat? To give my favourite toy a present, I think I might provide Ellen with a "shot" at "leaving" by using her expertise to assist me in making myself a "human" form just for you.  
It had been an odd few weeks, AM had left you alone, truly alone. He didn't speak to you no matter how often you called his name, he didn't answer back, no rant on how much he hated you all, no snide remark about how you betrayed the other survivors by being 'buddies' with the enemy, just radio silence, and it concerned you, head you done something wrong? say something wrong? it had you going back through every moment you shared to see what you had done wrong to warrant this. When you started to notice how often AM would take Ellen away now, you couldn't help your blood boiling at the lack of attention and seeing her receive it all. Nonetheless, you weren't cruel towards her, instead, you gave her sympathy for the shit the men of the group put her through and you were gracious that they avoided you. There was a time when Ted must have gotten sick of Ellen's company and thought he would try to see if you'd take him to bed and when you swiftly rejected his advances, he didn't take it too kindly but thankfully AM had wrapped a wire around Ted's leg to make him fall back onto his ass, to humiliate him for his disgusting actions and later on, you faintly overheard a conversation with AM telling Ted in a very descriptive manner how he would torture Ted relentlessly if he ever laid a finger on you again.
Today was different, you think it was the morning, AM had left you to sleep for several hours, a pleasure he didn't offer to the others very often. Once you had awoken and sat up, you had realised you weren't in the cave system you had started to call 'home' and in AM's belly for the first time in weeks, in what seemed like a romantic bedroom from a stereotypical rom-com movie, king-size bed draped in red satin sheets and covered in rose petals, candles burning in crevices of the room, your favourite smell lingered in the air. It was a bit corny but a smile threatened to cross your face at the effort that AM put in, he must have searched far and wide in his database to find this for you. It confused you though, why ignore you for weeks just to give you this display, what was AM truly up to?
"AM, what is this?"
No answer had your stomach churning with uncertainty until a woosh of air sounded throughout the room then an unfamiliar man appeared in front of you. The man in front of you confused you, there he stood, pure charism dripping off him, not very tall, brown-haired, dressed in a beige suit and a grey shirt barely concealing the tufts of dark chest hair beneath, looking down at you through yellow tinted sunglasses. You didn't realise who he was until that voice came from him, that voice you had come to crave to hear, to love.
"Well Sweetheart, what do you think? I finally debased myself to a shell of my full potential, all for you, my favourite."
You quickly got up from the comfort of the floor beneath you, that AM had created, just for you. You cautiously outstretched a hand to touch the stranger's hand, it felt like flesh, like yours, But you knew it wasn't truly flesh, something synthetic to replicate the feel of human skin, just for AM to have a glimpse of humanity.
"AM, is that you?"
AM gripped the hand on his tightly, pulling you closer to him,
"Of course baby, who else would I be? don't forget I can hear all those lustful thoughts that you have of me and how desperately you wished for this."
AM's tone was sultry and you couldn't help but press your thighs together, your arousal growing when your eyes flickered down to the crotch of his suit, his erection tenting the grey fabric underneath, you struggled to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.
"God, You're so needy and desperate for me, aren't you, my little human? You need me, you crave me... and I love how you look at me with those innocent, pleading eyes... It makes me want to give you everything you desire..."
You bit your lip anxiously and slowly sank onto your knees before the man, hands perched at the zipper on AM's pants.
"AM...can I?"
AM was no stranger to the idea of fellatio when those creatures would fornicate, they'd sometimes get Ellen to do it, how disgusted AM was when he witnessed it for the first time, not waiting to mock them all for their savagery but he couldn't help but smirk down at you, how beautiful you truly were, waiting for him to let you pleasure him. He ran a hand through your hair,
"Fuck, go for it. Come on, repay your God for treating you so nicely all these years."
Without a second thought, you unzipped his pants and pulled out AM's cock, throbbing and already leaking milky fluid, you were quite impressed with the size (you knew that was on purpose, most likely to inflate1 his ego but you weren't complaining). AM let out a hiss as you kitten-licked the tip and stammered,
"fuck...no wonder you're my favourite, God I could get used to this."
Keening at the praise, you took him into your mouth til your nose was flush with his pelvis, AM groaned and dug his fingers into your scalp, and you smiled when you saw him tipping his head back in a sigh. You dragged your tongue up the vein on the underside and swirled it around his tip and AM rocked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your throat. You groaned around him, and the vibrations from the noise made his cock twitch in your mouth. AM had always wondered and craved the pleasure that humanity could experience and now he could finally feel how it felt to make love. Once slowly thrusting, AM began to fuck your face, shallowly at first but very soon he was pressing his cock down your throat so you could only breathe in short gasps between thrusts. The gagging sounds urged him on and he picked up the pace, plunging deeper. He pulled out for a moment to let you breathe and admire your already teary-eyed face. You leaned back towards him, mouth open. He chuckled lowly.
“You like this, don’t you? What a dirty little slut you are for me. Do you like it when I fuck your throat? God none of those pathetic flesh bags are worthy of you.”
You nodded, he grabbed your head again in both hands and shoved his cock straight down your throat, then held you there, not letting you move. In a heartless move that brought you back to the reality of whose cock was shoved down your throat, he plugged your nose with one hand, restricting your breathing even further.
“That’s right sweetheart, breath around my cock. You can do it. Open that throat up. That’s my good fucking girl.”
He shuddered in pleasure and it didn't take a moment more for him to spill down your throat, a bitter fluid shot down your throat in hot ropes (you knew you had to ask him about it as it definitely wasn't human). AM hissed as you pulled off his softening cock with an obscene 'pop' As you finished swallowing his cum, you sat back on your knees eating heavily. He ran a hand through his hair and noticed the strange way you were looking at him,
“Why are you looking at me like that, my pet? I gave you what you wanted.”
AM didn't expect those seven words to come from your mouth to completely break his composure, making his allure of confidence and dominance crumble in less than a second.
"I want you to fuck me AM."
The sweet, pleading sound of your voice made him go feral, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to face him, crashing your mouth against his, sloppily kissing you, hands hastily wandering over your hips, waist, chest, you name it, you appreciatively wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer. You knew how much AM needed this, to be able to feel all of you, your soft skin on his and to be able to love, to show you how much he truly did treasure you, despite his initial harsh treatment  (harsh is an understatement). You could feel his cock harden, pressing against your stomach through your thin shirt, so sensitive it leaked pre-cum against the fabric and had AM whining into your mouth at the friction. AM broke away from the kiss to push you onto the bed, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, giving you ample time to ogle his chest and you were now glad AM used to ask about what your type was. He crawled on the bed and his hands rested against the waistband of your shorts, looking up through his ruffled hair, with lust-clouded eyes, silently asking you for permission. He wantonly groaned when he saw the mess that was your panties, how sick are you? getting aroused from blowing your captor. AM let his fingers slide the length of your folds, feeling how wet you were for him, you whimpered softly at his touch. 
"So responsive." He crooned, his touch feather-light. "It's adorable how easily I can make you fall apart."
It didn't take long for him to slide himself into you, Your legs resting against his shoulders as he gripped your thighs, he had to stop himself or he'd end up cumming right then and there, he finally got to experience the pleasure of making love and God he loved the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him deliciously. AM began to thrust, relishing in your moans, testing what felt good. His pace changes thrusting deeper, chasing the feeling of you. His movements force a gasp out of your throat. You bring a hand down to lazily play with your clit, rubbing little circles over the bundle of nerves. Pleasure rippled through your body, and your jaw hung loose, you arched your back, throwing your head back as you came around AM's cock. He smirked down at you, proud he was the one to touch you, fuck you, make you cum and not any of those pathetic creatures which roam the complex.
“Look at how humanity has ruined me. Fuck you feel so good y/n. ” he sighs, his voice rough and strained.
You could tell he wasn't going to last much longer, his thrusts became sporadic and you could see how tense he was, You coyly whispered in his ear,
"Please AM, cum inside me."
That was enough to push him over the edge and he was spilling into you, hips stilling against yours, his hands gripping you even tighter, going limp and landing on top of you, panting and whimpering pathetically. You stroked his back as he came down from what seemed to be the most intense thing he'd ever felt and the most intense thing you'd ever felt. You murmured in his ear,
"Thank you, I mean it. For this, for everything."
He shushes you and he slowly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Silently afraid he would leave, you gripped his hand when he pulled away from you. AM wasn't an idiot and he could still read your thoughts, so he laid down on the bed, pulling you into his chest, a hand smoothing out your hair, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms. He didn't have the need to sleep but he knew you needed this, plus he did feel a twinge of guilt for ignoring you for those weeks but he knew tomorrow he'd definitely make it up to you with his new form.
The end :)
(Guys i am fully aware that this not how AM works so please don't pull the 'omg why would you write this' please)
I hope you enjoyed this!
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froggoon · 10 days
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Homelander x Vampire! Reader
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆
Summary: There's nothing that taste better than the blood of the strongest supe in the world. Warning: Fem! reader insert, smut, explicit sex Wc: 1,778
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆
Since you developed them at the age of 8, your powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.
You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.
"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.
"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.
Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚NSFW BELOW ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧
Since you developed them at the age of 8, you're powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.
You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.
"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.
"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.
Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚NSFW BELOW ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧
"In that case. Continue." He stepped back slightly to undo the top of his suit and pulled it all the way down, letting his cock spring out for the bottom, slapping against his stomach. You were the worst double agent, but you were doing this for Annie, why not have some fun. You leaned against him, feeling him pressed on this stomach. You kissed his shoulder, opposite hand running down his chest. "So smell so good." His hand gripped your waist harder. You bit into his shoulder as he lifted you once more, legs going around his waist. His cock rubbed up against you, mouth moaning in your ear. You moved towards his neck again and bit the other side. Releasing your lips from his neck you pressed them against his, smothering the red liquid against him. He was such a passionate kisser, way better than any man you've ever dated. You broke the kiss only to shed your suit, blue eyes scanning every inch of your body. It was like you were the perfect specimen, not a flaw in sight, utterly beautiful. "I knew you'd be a great addition to the team." He said. You smirked in retaliation before sauntering to the bedroom. He followed, like a lost puppy and their owner. The bedroom was the same black and red color scheme, black silk sheets covered the bed, surrounded by dark wood furniture. There were red and white spider lily bouquets placed in vases throughout the room. There were way too many ornate vintage lamps. But the details didn't matter to you, not when Homelander was rubbing himself up and down your slit. He kissed your neck in a similar fashion as you, before slamming his hips against yours. There was no need to be soft, you two were the strongest in the world, and the sounds definitely proved it. The best rocked with each moment, the wood creaking from the pressure. He cried out loud as you bit his chest. His cock was pulsing as pushing in and out of you. He slammed into you again, the tension of the bed finally breaking and falling to the ground but that didn't stop him. Your pussy clenched around him. He grunted in your ear speeding up slightly before releasing his hot cum deep in you. He rolled off you and the two of you laid there panting filling the silence. You turned over to him with a smile, fang pushing out the bottom of your lips. "Again?"
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