Yall My Man Is Just The Sweetest ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡
Yall my man is just the sweetest ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡
Kyle Garrick x f!reader
middle ages AU
very very fluffy | non descriptive smut
contains mentions of marital abuse (not kyle)
The castle walls were cold, but not colder than your husband's silence.
Duke Simon Riley was revered across the kingdom—war hero, iron-fisted ruler, silent shadow of a man with a gaze like flint. You were the jewel he’d claimed after the war, a marriage sealed with blood-stained hands and noble signatures. They called you fortunate. A lady. A duchess. A trophy.
But behind the stone facade, you were his maid. His mother. His wife. His burden.
The servants knew better than to look you in the eye when you dragged the tray of food down the hall, your silks dusted with ash from the hearth you stoked yourself. They whispered as you limped from the cellar with buckets of wine, sleeves rolled, dignity unraveling thread by thread. The noblewoman who still scrubbed blood from his armor. Who kept his books and raised his bastard nephew. Who was expected to smile when he returned late, stinking of drink and war.
Simon barely spoke—unless it was to bark an order, or mutter thanks through gritted teeth. The only time his voice softened was when he needed you to serve him: in court, in chambers, in bed.
And you obeyed. Like a good wife. A good duchess.
Until one day, the shame turned to salt in your mouth.
When he dropped his boots at your feet without looking at you. When you poured his wine and watched him laugh with his men, never once thinking to ask you how your day was. When he dared to touch you in bed like you were a body he owned, a vessel, a duty.
Your love had died quietly, a candle snuffed out by indifference.
And one night, under a moon shrouded in mist, you packed nothing but what you could carry. Left a letter sealed with your ring. Walked past the guards who thought you were just one more servant finishing her chores.
The night air bit your cheeks as you crossed the threshold, barefoot and breathless.
No more.
No more bruised hands scrubbing floors you were meant to rule over.
No more gentle smiles for a man who never once said he loved you.
No more breaking your back for a crown that sat too heavy.
You ran into the dark, cloak whipping behind you, heart pounding.
The Duke of Blackmere would wake to an empty bed.
And for once—he could clean up the mess.
The forest swallowed the sound of your breath.
You ran.
The silk of your nightgown, once white, now clung to your legs—mud-slick and torn where the brambles snatched at it like claws. Twigs tangled in your hair, cruel fingers yanking your braids loose, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not even when the rocks bit into the soles of your feet, slicing skin and drawing warm blood that trailed behind you like a second veil.
The moon lit your path in shards—silver light piercing through the canopy, just enough to guide you forward, forward, forward.
Every step burned. Your lungs were raw. Your hands scraped against bark and stone as you stumbled, catching yourself, scrambling on all fours for a moment before rising again like a hunted animal.
Behind you, the castle stood still. Cold. Watching.
But the trees didn’t care who you were. The birds didn’t call you “Duchess.” Out here, you were no one. A woman with nothing but the fire in her chest and the echo of run, run, run in your ears.
Your gown snagged again. You hissed, yanking it free. The fabric gave with a rip, exposing your thigh to the night air. You didn’t care. You pushed on.
Until finally—lights.
Golden, flickering, swaying in the distance. Torches. Lanterns. Smoke curling from chimneys.
A village.
You stumbled over the threshold, barefoot and breathless, tears hot on your cheeks as you collapsed at the edge of a cobbled road. The world tilted. Voices called out, distant and muddled.
But you were safe.
For the first time in years—
You were free.
The first snowfall came early that year.
It blanketed the village in quiet, hush-white peace, and you watched it from the bakery window as the oven hissed softly behind you. The scent of yeast and cinnamon filled the small shop. Your hands, dusted in flour, shaped dough on muscle memory. You didn’t think much about the work anymore—it came easily now, like breath.
Months had passed since the night you’d run barefoot through the woods. No one asked why. No one pried. There was a sort of understanding here, a sacred silence shared between strangers who knew what it meant to begin again.
You were simply Miss, or darlin’, or love when Mrs. Price, the innkeeper’s wife, needed help minding her little ones and pressed hot tea into your hands. You cleaned the rooms at the inn, soothed fussy children to sleep, worked the early hours at the bakery in exchange for a roof and warm meals.
You slept on a straw-stuffed mattress beneath the rafters. It wasn’t a duchess’s bed. It didn’t need to be.
Each day blurred gently into the next. Until he became part of the rhythm.
Kyle Garrick, the farmer from just outside the village. Came into town twice a week with baskets of eggs and jugs of milk, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, hay in his curls, a dusting of dirt on his boots. He always called you Miss, voice warm as cider. Said it like a nickname, like a secret.
“G’mornin’, Miss,” he’d greet you with a little grin, arms full of crates, eyes kind. “Don’t suppose you’d let me carry those sacks for you?”
And you’d protest—always half-heartedly—as he hoisted the flour bags from the cart like they were weightless.
“I can manage,” you’d say.
“I know,” he’d reply, “but where’s the fun in that?”
He never asked where you came from. Not once. Just like the rest of them.
But sometimes you caught him looking at you—when your sleeves were rolled up and your face flushed from the oven’s heat, when you wiped sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist. Not lustfully. Just curious. Gentle. Like he was memorizing your edges.
You shared quiet moments. Small things.
He gave you the first apple from his tree that autumn. You saved the seeds.
One night, during a thunderstorm, he brought extra candles to the inn. Said he figured you hated the dark.
You did.
You hadn’t told him that.
And still—you stayed silent. You didn’t speak of the Duke. Of the silk gowns. Of the cold halls of your marriage. It belonged to another life. A different girl.
You didn’t know what this was. What it might become.
But Kyle’s hands were strong. His heart was kind. And maybe—just maybe—you were finally learning what it meant to be held, not possessed.
Kyle asked the first time in early spring.
“Got a new foal on the way,” he’d said, leaning his weight casually against the bakery doorframe, arms crossed, smiling just a little. “Thought you might want to see the farm sometime.”
You offered a polite smile, shook your head. “That’s kind, but I’ve got work.”
He didn’t push.
The second time, he tried again.
“Built a new coop for the hens. Clean lines, real proud of it. You could come see?”
You dusted flour off your apron, gave a soft laugh. “Sounds lovely, but I really can’t.”
He gave a little shrug. “Maybe another time, Miss.”
There were more offers—gentle ones. Shared like wildflowers laid at your feet. He never asked why you always said no.
Until one day, when the sun was soft and golden through the clouds and you were restocking shelves, Kyle stepped into the bakery looking just a touch more urgent than usual.
“She’s close,” he said without a greeting. “The goat. Her first birth. Thought of you right away—thought maybe you'd want to be there.”
You blinked, confused. “Why me?”
“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “You just… seemed the type who might want to see something come into the world. Something good.”
And something in you—some fragile, buried thing—stirred.
So you nodded.
The walk to his farm was quiet, just the two of you on the narrow path between wild grass and scattered yellow blossoms. Your skirts brushed the earth, your boots muddied at the edges, but Kyle didn’t seem to mind. He pointed out things as you went—that tree’s been leaning since I was a lad, foxes sometimes nest there, there’s a hawk that lives near the well.
The farmhouse was simple. Warm. The porch sagged a little, and the door creaked when he opened it. The air smelled like hay and woodsmoke and something sweet—jams, maybe.
He didn’t ask you inside. Just took you to the barn.
The goat was already panting by the time you arrived, her sides heaving.
Kyle knelt beside her and showed you how to stroke her neck. How to speak soft. Gentle.
And when the kid finally arrived, slick and squirming and alive, you cried without realizing.
Kyle didn’t speak. Just handed you a clean cloth, his fingers brushing yours.
Later, when the goat and her baby were settled, and the sun had begun to set in streaks of amber and rose, he led you back toward the farmhouse porch.
“I can walk back alone,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
“You could,” he said, “but I’d rather walk you.”
And so he did.
That night, you lay awake in your narrow bed, remembering the way his hands moved—sure, patient, reverent. Remembering how he looked at you like you were real and here and not something to be claimed.
You still hadn’t told him who you were.
But maybe… he already knew there was something broken about you. Or maybe it didn’t matter.
Not anymore.
The sky was still tinted with the faint blue of pre-dawn when he arrived.
He always came early on Wednesdays—before the others, before the village stirred awake. Just him and the birdsong and the steam from the fresh loaves you made for him.
The door creaked as he entered. You didn’t look up at first, hands deep in the dough, sleeves rolled to your elbows. Your hair was braided back, wisps escaping to stick to your warm skin. The oven behind her flickered with a quiet fire.
“Morning, Miss,” Kyle said, voice soft, respectful, warm.
“You’re early,” you replied, not unkindly, still kneading.
“I like it here when it’s quiet,” he said, stepping closer but not crowding. “You working on mine?”
You nodded toward a proofing tray. “It’s rising now.”
He sat on the edge of the counter, just watching you for a while. Your hands moved like you were born to it—strong, steady, sure. You’d come to the village like a shadow, but now you glowed in the firelight. Familiar. Trusted. His, in some unspoken way neither of you had dared name.
He watched you in silence until, after a moment, he asked, “You ever been in love before, Miss?”
You paused, only for a second, then dusted your hands and went back to shaping the loaf.
“...Thought I was.”
There was no bitterness in your voice. No romance either. Just something hollowed out and carefully set down.
Kyle didn’t ask more. Didn’t need to.
He leaned back a bit, looking at you with something deeper than curiosity.
“Someone didn’t treat you right,” he said softly, not a question, not even a guess. Just a truth.
You looked up then. Just briefly. Your eyes, still tired from dreams you never spoke aloud, met his.
“No,” you whispered, “he treated me exactly how the world told him he could.”
Kyle blinked, slow. Then nodded. “World’s wrong about a lot of things.”
The air stretched between you like warm honey. The oven crackled. The dough rose. You turned your gaze back to it.
“I think I like making bread,” you said after a long silence. “It doesn’t ask anything of me. Just needs time. Patience. A steady hand.”
“I reckon you deserve the same,” he murmured.
You smiled, small and grateful.
When the loaf finished, you handed it to him wrapped in a linen cloth. His fingers brushed yours again. He didn’t linger, but he didn’t leave right away either.
“I’ll be by tomorrow,” he said. “Bring you something sweet. If you’d like.”
You didn’t nod. Didn’t answer.
But when he stepped outside, he saw your through the window, smiling to yourself with the faintest tilt of your lips.
And that was enough.
The moment the news reached you, you dropped a basket of rolls.
It passed from mouth to mouth like wildfire—a Duke, arriving tomorrow. One from the North. One with a name no one dared say but all seemed to know.
Your breath had hitched. Your hands had trembled. But you didn’t cry. You never did anymore.
By the time the sun began to dip low, painting the sky with shades of warning red, You were walking back from the bakery with your arms full of unsold loaves for the inn.
The air smelled like smoke and earth. Your stomach twisted.
“Miss?”
Kyle’s voice, always warm, always gentle, cut through the thick fog of your thoughts.
You hadn’t even heard him approach. But there he was—boots dusty, sleeves rolled, hands calloused and kind. He walked in step with you without asking.
His hand pressed lightly to the small of your back, and you startled just a little at the warmth of it. Not in fear. Just in surprise. You’d grown so used to holding yourself.
“You alright?” he asked, like he didn’t already see how tense you shoulders were.
You didn’t answer.
“Would you…” he started again, voice lower now, less sure. “Would you like to come by the farm again? Think the goats miss you.”
The question was simple. But it meant everything. A life raft offered in a storm.
You answered before you had time to think. “Yes.”
And it was the first thing that felt like a choice all day.
Kyle nodded once, like he’d expected you to say no, and the quiet joy in his eyes when you didn’t made you feel something you hadn’t let yourself feel in months.
Safe.
Not free yet. But close.
The loaves were still warm when you handed them off at the inn, your hands lingering on the cloth-covered basket like you might take it back and run. But you didn’t. You gave a soft nod to Mrs. and Mr. Price, mumbled something about being out late, and slipped through the door without another word.
Kyle waited just beyond the threshold, leaning on the fence post, eyes watching the fading sky.
Neither of you talked as you made the walk toward the farm. But it wasn’t the kind of silence you’d known before—the cold, stiff kind that always left you feeling like you’d said something wrong just by existing. No, this one was… easy. Like the earth didn’t expect anything from you but your steps on the road.
The goats came into view as the sun dipped further, casting gold over the hills. One of the younger ones bleated at you and stumbled toward the fence, nosing your palm with enthusiasm.
You laughed.
Not a pretty, courtly giggle. A real laugh. One that cracked something open in your chest, something you’d been pressing down so hard it left bruises.
You blinked fast, swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat.
Kyle didn’t say a word. Just crouched near one of the fence posts, adjusting a bit of loose rope like he didn’t notice the way your eyes shined.
But when you looked at him, he was already looking back. He smiled, soft and crooked.
“Stay for supper?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to try that stew recipe you told Mr. Mactavish about. We can make it together.”
You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to. But because it had been so long since anyone had asked you anything that didn’t come with a price.
And gods, it was hard to say no to eyes like that—gentle and open and not expecting anything more than what you’d give.
So you didn’t.
You nodded once, quiet, and when he smiled again, your heart ached in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
It was the first time in months you didn’t feel like running.
The kitchen smelled like thyme and onions, rich and warm as the stew bubbled low in the pot. Your sleeves were rolled, flour on your cheek from shaping the bread you’d offered to bake as a side, and Kyle stood beside you, peeling potatoes far slower than necessary just so he could sneak glances.
You caught him once and nudged him with your elbow. “You’re terrible at that,” you teased, grinning.
He shrugged, helpless and boyish. “Never had to impress anyone with my peeling skills b'fore.”
That made you laugh—really laugh—and you leaned over the cutting board, hiding your smile behind your wrist.
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he murmured, voice a little lower than before.
She glanced up.
He was closer than you'd thought. Still holding a half-peeled potato, but now his other hand was on your waist, firm and warm. Your breath caught. You could smell the firewood smoke on his shirt, see the soft scruff on his jaw, and then—
Your foreheads touched.
Like it was nothing. Like it was everything.
Your eyes fluttered shut just as his did, and for a moment, there was only the sound of the stew simmering and the quiet beat of two hearts, nearly in sync.
Then he kissed you.
Soft, patient, and certain.
And you kissed him back, your hands curling into the front of his shirt, grounding yourself in something that felt impossibly real.
A warmth bloomed in your chest, equal parts comfort and fear. Because the moment didn’t feel borrowed.
It felt like home.
You pulled back just a little, your heart racing as you caught your breath. A soft laugh escaped your lips, genuine and a little breathless. “Didn’t know it could... feel like that.”
Kyle’s gaze softened, like he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as he spoke, his voice low but certain. “It does when it’s right, Miss.”
Your chest tightened at his words. For the first time in what felt like forever, something felt right. You had spent so long running, hiding, trying to outrun your past. But here, in this small kitchen with the scent of cooking filling the air and Kyle’s gentle presence in front of you, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could stay for a while.
He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your skin. “You’re not alone here,” he murmured, almost as if he was reading your mind. “You don’t have to be.”
Your heart fluttered at that, but the reality of your past tugged at you like a chain, invisible but heavy. You forced a smile, trying to push the unease away, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I’m not... running anymore, Kyle.”
He didn’t need you to explain further. His smile softened, understanding more than you expected. “I know.” His hand slid from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers. “And you don’t have to. Not from me.”
For a long moment, you just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the kitchen. You could hear the faint rustling of the animals outside, the gentle breeze making its way through the open window, but for once, it all felt like it was in its place.
The weight of the past hadn’t vanished, but it felt lighter here, in this little corner of the world where Kyle’s touch made everything seem a little more possible.
He stepped back slowly, never breaking your connection, his hand still gently clasping yours. “Supper’s almost ready,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made your stomach flutter.
“Right,” you replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You squeezed his hand, the action grounding you in the present, in the here and now.
“I’ll be right there,” you said, but Kyle didn’t move just yet. Instead, he leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a promise in that gentle touch.
As he stepped away, you exhaled slowly, fingers still tingling from his touch. Tonight felt different. For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe you could belong somewhere again.
And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe in that feeling.
You sat across from each other at the small wooden table, the flickering light from the lantern casting soft shadows around you both. The air was warm with the scent of roasted vegetables and the rich, earthy aroma of the bread you’d helped bake earlier. The goats had been fed, the kitchen cleared, and the simple supper you had prepared together was now in front of you.
Kyle took a bite, his eyes lighting up as he chewed. He grinned at you, a playful glint in his eye. “This... this is delicious.” He set his fork down, still smiling. “Thank you for making it with me.”
You shook your head, feeling a slight heat creep up your neck. “You did most of it,” you protested, but there was a warmth in your voice. “I just helped with the bread and the herbs.”
He leaned back slightly, considering you for a moment before his lips curled into a grin. “True, but your bits,” he paused, picking up a piece of the roasted vegetable, “are the best.”
Your cheeks burned at the compliment, but you couldn’t help the way your lips quirked up into a smile. “Flattery won’t get you more food,” you teased lightly, but there was a softness to your tone, an ease you hadn’t expected to feel so quickly.
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I think I’ve already got what I wanted,” he said, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, quiet moment. “You.”
The words hung in the air for a second, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simple. Honest. The kind of honesty you didn’t know if you were ready for, but something about him made it easier to hear. To believe.
You stirred your food, not quite looking up at him, feeling a knot in your chest tighten slightly. But it wasn’t a bad feeling—it was just... unfamiliar. “Well, I’m glad you think so highly of my cooking,” you said, trying to keep the mood light, though your heart was beating a little faster now.
Kyle took another bite, but his eyes never left you. “I’m serious,” he said softly, his voice steady and warm. “You’re different, Miss. More than you know. You’ve got a way of making everything feel... right.”
Your heart fluttered at that, and you swallowed before meeting his gaze. “And what’s that?” you asked, though you had an inkling of the answer.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers loosely wrapped around his cup of water. “You make the world a little less heavy, just by being in it.”
Your chest tightened at his words. It was so simple, and yet it felt like something you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe in for so long. Maybe you did deserve to have something light in your life again.
You didn’t say anything at first, just took a slow breath and looked back down at your plate. There was a tenderness between you now, unspoken but clear.
The sound of the wind rustling outside was the only interruption as you both finished your meals. There was no rush, no tension. Just the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
“Thank you, Kyle,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but it held more weight than you expected. “For all of this. For tonight.”
He smiled again, a soft, contented smile, before leaning back in his chair, settling in. “The pleasure’s all mine, Miss.”
And for once, you let yourself believe it.
The evening had unfolded into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, the soft glow of the lanterns flickering in the corners of the room. The meal had been simple, yet satisfying, and the air between you was easy, filled with gentle laughter and light conversation. But now, as the last of the dishes were cleared away, the weight of what was to come settled in.
You glanced toward the door, the thought of returning to the inn pulling at you. The routine you’d grown so accustomed to, the security of blending in, of being unnoticed. But tonight felt different. Kyle’s presence had been grounding, steady, and his quiet sincerity had created a warmth in your chest that you weren’t sure you wanted to leave behind.
Kyle leaned back against the chair, his hand resting on the table, his gaze soft but determined. “You don’t have to go, y’know.”
You hesitated, caught between the life you had built here and the life you had once run from. Your heart thudded in your chest at the vulnerability in his words, the earnestness in his eyes.
“Kyle…” you started, her voice trailing off. The question you had been avoiding, the fear that gripped you tightly, threatened to spill out. What if I stay?
“I mean it,” Kyle continued, his voice steady but laced with an edge of hope. “Stay with me. You don’t have to go back to the inn. You don’t have to keep running from... wha'ever you’re running from. You can stay here, with me. You’re already part of this place.”
You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat. The pull of his words, the sincerity in them, had your heart racing faster than you expected. It wasn’t just about staying for the night or sharing another meal together. It was about something deeper, something more permanent. A future you hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine.
“I—” Your voice faltered. You were afraid of what this could mean. Afraid of what it might feel like to let yourself fully trust someone again. But there was a part of you, buried beneath the walls you’d built, that longed for this. For him.
Kyle’s hand moved across the table, palm up, waiting for your, his expression softening as he watched you struggle.
“You don’t have to answer right away,” he said quietly, his fingers grazing over the table’s edge as if offering you a lifeline, a choice. “But I want you here, Miss. I want you here with me. Wha'ever you need, whenever you’re ready.”
The words hung between you, heavy with possibility. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, the conflict clear in your gaze. But then, something shifted inside you. Something told you it was okay to let go, to stop fighting it.
You stood slowly, your legs slightly unsteady from the weight of the moment, and stepped closer to him. Without another word, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his touch spreading through you.
His fingers closed gently around yours, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Stay with me,” he repeated, a promise in his voice this time.
And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, staying could be the right choice.
The night was quiet, save for the steady sound of your breaths mingling in the dim light. The sheets, tangled between you, were warm and comforting. In contrast to the nights you had once known, nights that had been harsh and demanding, this one felt like a revelation. Kyle was slow, patient, guiding you with a tenderness you hadn’t known you needed, but now couldn’t seem to live without.
His movements were deliberate, each touch gentle, coaxing you through every sensation. It wasn’t hurried or desperate—there was no frantic urgency. He savored you, as if every inch of you deserved time and care. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, the line of your jaw, memorizing the soft tremor of your skin. His lips brushed against your neck, soft whispers of praise against your skin, each word making you feel seen, wanted.
You let out a sharp breath when he finally met your lips again, the kiss slow and tender, his body shifting against yours, each movement carefully planned. He was slow in all the right ways, building you up before bringing you down, making you forget everything but him. It was a stark contrast to everything you had once known—his hands were not harsh, they were reverent. His mouth was not demanding, it was kind.
Your body responded, arching beneath him, his name slipping from your lips with a mixture of awe and longing. The passion built slowly, layer after layer, until it was a pressure you couldn’t contain. Your hands found his shoulders, his back, needing to ground yourself, to feel every inch of him.
His forehead came to rest against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you heard words you never expected to hear again.
“I love you,” Kyle whispered, his voice rough but filled with sincerity.
Your heart stilled in her chest, your breath catching in your throat. Time seemed to slow. You closed your eyes, running your hands up his chest, needing to touch him, needing to make sure he was real, that this was real. You cupped his face, bringing him closer, your gaze locking with his.
“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but unwavering. The words felt like a promise, like something that could anchor you in this moment, in this life that you’d never imagined for yourself but somehow found.
Kyle’s smile was gentle, the way he looked at you made you feel seen, cherished. And in that moment, with him above you, with his warmth surrounding you, you knew you had found something worth staying for. Something real. Something true.
It wasn’t just love. It was everything you had been searching for without realizing it—softness, care, and a connection you had once thought was beyond your reach.
The days had passed quietly, a rhythm settling between you and Kyle. The work, the shared meals, the laughter, it all became part of your new life, one you were growing more attached to every day. The tension from the arrival of the Duke had faded into the background, though it never fully left your mind. You had avoided the village center as much as possible, staying in the comfort of Kyle’s farm, but now, on the third night, as the Duke was about to leave, you could feel it all creeping back.
You sat at the small wooden table, picking at the remnants of your supper. Kyle was across from you, his usual easy smile a bit more subdued tonight. He didn’t press you to talk about it, not really, but he had known something was up.
"I was his wife once," you said quietly, almost too quietly. The words felt heavy, like they had been waiting to be spoken, but you hadn't known when to say them.
Kyle didn’t flinch, didn’t look surprised. Instead, he nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair, his gaze soft but steady. "I know, dove," he replied simply. His voice was calm, like it wasn’t the first time he had processed this.
"You knew?" you asked, voice rising in surprise. You didn’t know how she expected him to react—anger, judgment, maybe pity. But Kyle was looking at your like he had known all along, like it wasn’t a revelation, just a fact.
"Whole village knew," Kyle said, his eyes never leaving yours. His tone was matter-of-fact, and it made you realize something you hadn't thought about—your past, your marriage to Simon, hadn't been a secret to anyone. It was common knowledge, and yet, the people in this village had let you be. They hadn’t pried, they hadn’t pushed you to speak of it. They had accepted you without question, without curiosity.
"Oh," you whispered, a wave of surprise and relief flooding through you. It was as if the weight of the past had lifted slightly, knowing that your secrets had never been the subject of gossip, never turned into something for the village to talk about.
Kyle smiled softly, almost as if he had been waiting for your to realize that. "Didn’t mention it, wasn’t our business," he added, his voice warm but firm, like he was assuring you it wasn’t something that needed to be discussed. The Duke was gone now, and whatever had happened between you, whoever you had once been to him, didn’t matter anymore. Not here, not with Kyle.
You nodded, taking a deep breath, as if exhaling a burden you hadn’t known you were still carrying. For all the guilt and confusion you had felt about your past, here, in this quiet farm with Kyle, it didn’t have to be a part of you anymore. You could simply be yourself. You could be the woman you were now—someone who had found a life you never expected to have, but one you were beginning to truly love.
Kyle stood up then, moving around the table to where you sat. He gently cupped your face in his hands, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "You’re safe here, dove," he said, his voice so full of warmth and care that it made your heart ache. "With me. Always."
The words, simple as they were, meant everything. And you realized, with a quiet certainty, that for the first time in years, you were free. Free from the weight of your past, free from the expectations placed on you, and free to live a life that was entirely your own.
With him.
Months passed, each day blending into the next with a quiet rhythm that had begun to feel like home. The days were simple but comforting—working at the bakery in the morning, kneading dough, shaping loaves, the warm scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. You had always found solace in routine, the predictability of it all, and it gave you a sense of purpose you hadn’t had in years. The steady pace of your work kept you grounded, kept your mind from wandering back to the life you had run from, to the Duke who had once claimed you as his own.
Kyle never pushed you to leave the bakery, even though he offered time and again. He insisted that you could stay home on the farm, help with the chores, and be with him all day. But you knew he understood. He never pried, never made you feel guilty for the hours you spent at the bakery. He simply smiled and kissed your forehead every morning before you left for work and again every evening when you came home.
The small village had become your sanctuary, the faces of the townspeople familiar and kind. The bakery was a place where you felt useful, where the simple act of making bread for others brought you peace. You didn’t feel the need for anything more—at least, not for now.
The mornings with Kyle were often slow and peaceful. He’d wake up early to tend to the animals, always making sure to stop by the bakery to bring you fresh milk or eggs from the farm. He would help with unloading the flour or carrying the heavy sacks, always with that quiet smile of his. You could feel the ease between you, the unspoken bond that had grown stronger over the months.
And in the evenings, after the long days of work, you would sit together at the small table in the farmhouse, a candle flickering between you. And you would talk about the small things—how the animals were doing, the weather, and what you had for dinner—but it was enough. You didn’t need grand gestures or endless promises. Just the warmth of his presence beside you was all you ever needed.
"Why don’t you stay home today?" Kyle would ask sometimes, a playful gleam in his eye. "You could help me with the garden. Or maybe just sit and rest."
You would smile, running a hand through your hair. "I like the routine, Ky," you’d say softly. "I like being there."
He’d never push further. Instead, he’d simply nod, understanding that you needed this. It was the one thing from your old life that you had held on to—the routine, the simple sense of purpose that came with it.
But there were moments, fleeting ones, when Kyle would catch you gazing out at the farm, lost in thought. He’d gently pull you back into the present, reminding you with a soft touch or a quiet word that there was no need to look back anymore. He had given you a new life—one that was free from the pain of your past—and all you had to do was embrace it.
And you were starting to. Slowly, but surely, the shadow of the Duke faded more each day. The nights were yours to cherish, spent in Kyle’s arms, where you felt safe, where you felt loved. It wasn’t a life of grand adventures, but it was yours, and it was enough.
The evening air was thick with the smell of hay and the soft rustling of the barn. The loft was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the setting sun slipping through cracks in the wood. You and Kyle had just made love, your bodies tangled in the soft bedding of straw. His laughter mixed with yours as you tugged at the strands of hay that had caught in your hair. The warmth of the moment lingered, a perfect silence settling between the two of you, broken only by the gentle rhythm of your breathing.
Kyle leaned back against the hay, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes, always soft and full of affection, met yours, but there was something different tonight—a quiet intensity, like he was holding something in. You could feel the weight of it in the air, the anticipation, but you didn’t know what to expect.
With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn velvet pouch. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t say anything. He opened it with his fingers, and there, nestled in the fabric, was a simple, delicate ring. His mother’s ring.
He took your hand gently in his, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin as he held it up to the fading light. "I know we don’t need any of this," he said softly, his voice low and sincere. "But I want you to know that I want you with me, always. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine." He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. "Will you marry me?"
You didn’t answer with words. You didn’t need to. Your heart raced, and in that moment, all the pain of the past, all the fear of what came next, melted away. The weight of the world felt light, the uncertainty replaced with a profound sense of belonging. With a breathless smile, you slid your legs over his, straddling him as you bent down to kiss him, slow and lingering. His hands, warm and firm, gripped your waist as you pressed your body against his.
The ring was slipping onto your finger, but it wasn’t the ring that mattered. It was the way he held you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. You pulled back just slightly, your forehead resting against his, both of you laughing softly.
He kissed you again, and you kissed him back, your heart beating fast, and before either of you could say anything more, you did it all over again. This time, with a different kind of intensity, a deeper connection, as if everything that had led you to this moment had been leading you here.
His mother’s ring gleamed in the dim light, but it was Kyle’s love that sparkled brightest.
You giggled as Kyle carefully cradled you in his arms, bridal-style, his strong arms holding you close. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of his embrace kept you more than comfortable. The crunch of the gravel beneath his boots mixed with your laughter as you playfully scratched at the itching hay that clung to your skin, your dress still speckled with the remnants of the barn loft.
Kyle chuckled softly, his voice low and affectionate as he glanced down at you. “You alright there, Missus?” he teased, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Got enough hay in your hair for the both of us?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. “I swear, Ky, I’m gonna be itchy for days,” you muttered, scratching again at the hay that clung to your arms.
His laugh echoed around you, warm and genuine, as he shifted you higher in his arms, making sure you were secure. “Well, you’ll just have to deal with it, Mrs. Garrick,” he teased again, his lips brushing over your forehead. “That’s what you get for marrying a farm boy.”
You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hide the grin threatening to overtake you. “Mrs. Garrick…” you repeated softly, testing the sound of it, the words feeling both foreign and perfectly right all at once.
He chuckled again, his breath warm against your hair. “Yup, that's you now. Mrs. Garrick. My missus.” His voice softened, turning serious for a moment, though there was still that playful glint in his eyes. “And you always will be, you know?”
Your heart swelled, the quiet reassurance in his words enough to make the moment feel even more perfect. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him a little tighter. “I don’t think I could be happier, Mr. Garrick,” you whispered, finally letting go of the itchiness and just letting yourself be in this moment with him.
He smiled down at you, and the warmth in his eyes was enough to banish any remaining doubts or fears you had. With him, everything felt right. Everything had always felt like it was leading here.
As you neared the house, he gave you one last squeeze, pressing his lips against the top of your head. “And you’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Garrick. Forever.”
The sun was setting low behind the rolling hills, casting a golden hue over the village. The chapel was small, but it felt like the whole world was gathered within its walls. The familiar faces of villagers, the baker, the farmer, the innkeepers, all gathered together to celebrate a love that had blossomed unexpectedly. You felt the weight of their smiles and the warmth of their well-wishes.
Standing next to Kyle, you could feel the fluttering in your chest, the way your heart seemed to race every time you caught sight of his handsome face, that familiar crooked smile. The same smile that had made you fall for him, over and over again, even on days when life was hard. He looked at you like you were the only one in the world, the way he always had since that first time you handed him bread. Maybe he did.
The Bishop's words were a blur in the background, a soft murmur of prayers, but all you could focus on was Kyle’s hand in yours, warm and strong. You couldn’t stop the heat creeping across your cheeks as he spoke his vows—so sickly sweet, so tender. The words tumbled from his lips with such sincerity, his voice thick with emotion.
“I vow to stand beside you, in every storm and every quiet night. I’ll keep you safe, hold you close, and never let you go. You’ve changed my world, my heart. You’ve made me a better man, and I swear, on this day and every day after, I’ll love you more than you could ever know.”
Your heart swelled in your chest, the words sinking deep into your bones, making your breath catch. This wasn’t like the vows you once heard from your former life—no, this was different. This was real.
You squeezed his hand tighter, your eyes watering as you tried to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. How had you ever thought you'd be content without this? Without him?
The Bishop turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. “And you, my dear, what are your vows?”
For a moment, everything felt impossibly still. You looked up into Kyle’s eyes, the love and trust shining back at you, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like the girl who had run away. You didn’t feel like the broken wife.
You stood taller now, the past a shadow behind you. With a soft smile, you spoke, your voice steady, clear. “I vow to cherish you, Kyle Garrick, as you have cherished me. I’ll walk beside you in the sunshine and the rain. I’ll love you with every part of me, for all the days of my life. You are home to me.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Kyle’s hand tightened around yours, and a small tear fell from his eye, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.
The Bishop nodded, satisfied with the vows exchanged, and the ceremony continued with all the joy and love that filled the air.
But you hardly heard a word after that. All that mattered was Kyle, his soft hand in yours, his eyes full of love, and the future that stretched ahead of you both—together, forever.
"You may now kiss your bride."
As the Bishop’s words echoed through the small chapel, the world seemed to pause for a heartbeat. Kyle’s hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek as he leaned in. His eyes locked onto yours for a brief, tender moment, a silent promise passing between you both.
Then, without a word, he kissed you.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything. The passion of every moment you’d shared, the struggles, the laughter, the quiet comfort of everyday life—it all poured into that single kiss. His lips were soft at first, exploring, tentative. But the moment you kissed him back, something inside him shifted, and so did you. His grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips hot against yours, claiming you in a way that was all his own.
There was no hesitation, no fear, no doubt—just the two of you, together, right here, in this moment.
The chapel seemed to disappear, the cheering from the villagers fading into the background as Kyle kissed you like he was trying to savor every second. His hand slid into your hair, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss, and you felt yourself melt into him, everything you’d been running from, everything you’d been hiding, falling away.
When he finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested gently against yours, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic energy you both shared. His lips were parted in a soft smile, his eyes gleaming with the same love he had sworn to you just moments ago.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, his words vibrating through you like the hum of a quiet promise.
You smiled, still lost in the aftermath of that kiss. “I love you too, Kyle.”
The room erupted into applause, but it felt like nothing compared to the warmth of his lips still lingering on yours. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like the girl who ran away, or the girl with a past. You were just his, and he was yours.
And as the cheers of the village surrounded you, you knew this was the beginning of a life that would be better than anything you could’ve ever imagined.
Kyle’s grin was playful, his eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. He walked with you into the house, closing the door behind you both with a soft click. His hands were already reaching for the delicate fabric of your wedding dress, eager to strip it away, but there was something more to the moment than just the anticipation of what was to come. The joy in his eyes, the way he couldn’t stop smiling as he helped you out of the gown, made you feel like the luckiest woman alive. "Gonna give you a wedding night to remember, love."
You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing at the implications of his words. “I like the love we always make,” you teased, your voice low, a little breathless from the intimacy of the moment.
Kyle’s laugh was low and throaty as he kissed your forehead, his hands gently guiding you toward the bedroom. “Been holding out on you, dove,” he said, his tone teasing. “Had to get a ring on your finger before I could show you what I can do with my mouth.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You weren’t quite sure what he meant, but the thought of him using his mouth on you had your pulse quickening. You flushed, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Your mouth?” you repeated, the word leaving your lips more breathlessly than you intended.
“Mhm,” Kyle murmured, his voice low and deep, laced with promise. He took his time, making sure the last few pieces of the dress were carefully removed, letting you step out of it and into the comfort of his arms. “I’ve got plenty of ways to make you remember tonight, Mrs. Garrick.”
You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you let him pull you closer, your body pressing into his. His lips trailed down your neck, soft at first, then growing more insistent, sending shivers across your skin.
“I want to make you feel everything,” Kyle whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His hands, now bare, moved over your body, as if memorizing every curve, every inch of you. “And tonight, I’m going to show you all the ways I can.”
You felt your pulse racing, the familiar warmth of his touch igniting something deep inside of you. Tonight would be unlike any other night, and you were more than ready to see just what he had in store for you.
Kyle was a man of many talents, but nothing prepared you for the way he made you feel that night. Every touch, every movement, felt like a carefully orchestrated symphony of passion. He knew exactly where to press, how to move, and when to ease off, leaving you breathless, wanting more. His skill was unmatched, and every time you thought you might finally catch your breath, he’d take you to new heights again.
You must have died and come back five times that night, lost in waves of sensation that you never thought were possible. It wasn’t just the physical connection—though that was undoubtedly divine—it was the intensity of it all, the way his gaze never left yours, the way he seemed to be reading your body like a book, every page turning faster than the last.
And yet, despite all of that, he hadn’t even kissed you yet.
You were so caught up in the feeling of him that the lack of a kiss didn’t even register at first. But then, as his hands gently cupped your face, as he positioned himself just above you, you felt the shift—the tenderness, the deep connection that only he could give. His lips hovered over yours, barely grazing them before finally pressing firmly against you. The kiss was slow, deliberate, full of promise.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours before he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more heat.
And even as you surrendered to his touch once more, you realized that every moment with him had only deepened your feelings. You weren’t just being ravished; you were being adored, in a way that no one had ever done before. It was overwhelming, but in the best way. This wasn’t just about physical connection anymore. This was about being seen, about trust, about love.
And Kyle? He was more than worth it.
UGH MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN , POOKIE @goatgoesmbe
More Posts from Chunkyblossomberry and Others
I will gladly have his babies \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/
What if dilf orc has a young child, the bearer of his child unfortunately passed away. Then he sees you. A plump soft human, a bit softer than the usual orc parent, but in his eyes your tenderness would be perfect for his youngling.
He begins to court you immediately. Always brushing past you to subtly scent you, bringing his sweet baby with him to try and sway your choices. Of course the little orc toddler immediately makes your heart melt, the way they waddle over to you curiously, the orc child despite being extremely young was already up to your waist.
If you give into his courting? Be prepared for princess treatment. Being carried everywhere by him as the new parent of his child. Of course you’d naturally gain a lot of muscle from being with him, due to an orcs typical rugged lifestyle and the fact that your new adopted orc toddler likes to be carried and coddled! How could you say no to such a chubby cute face? You’ll be carrying them a lot, and orc babies are HEAVY so yeah, prepare to get swoll.
But to compensate I can definitely see your orc dilf spouse making sure you get more than enough food, after all you’re burning way too many calories carrying his youngling around, and plus he needs to keep you squishy for optimal cuddles.
DILF orc always brings you home gifts from fights or battles, mainly skulls of his enemies (how charming 🥰) or maybe a whole deer, already cut up and prepared for you to cook, he’s very doting.
✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡ I need him to put me in a headlock so bad need him to make me feel weightless ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡
something i catch myself staring at for longer than i should:
AAAAHHHHH This is fantastic like it’s so beautiful chefs kiss ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/
imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?
(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾ can wait for that date ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗
buff guy
╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝
ʚ Part 1 ɞ
❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy
❥ A/N: hello!! I compiled the first two drabbles of this series into one fic! Im hoping to continue the fics in the future :) feedback is always appreciated!!
It's when he brings you flowers for the third time that you become a little suspicious of his intentions.
"He likes you," your coworker whispers as he leaves. "When are you gonna give him the chance?"
You shrug, putting the flowers on the counter by the register, rearranging them a bit.
"I think he's just trying to be nice."
"Why in the world would he keep bringing you flowers if he wasn't interested in you?" She grabs your shoulder, pulling you to face her. "The next time he comes in, just ask him how he feels. Maybe he'll be more direct and tell you how he feels."
Two days later, he's back, carrying a red bag. He approaches the counter, opposite hand in his pocket.
"The usual?" your coworker asks, but he's not looking at her, staring at you across the room, watching you steam milk. You pour the milk in a paper cup, placing down the pitcher and finally making eye contact with him. The two of you stare at each other, your coworker glancing back and forth before approaching you.
"Let me take over," she says, taking the cup from you and putting on a lid. She leans in to whisper. "Ask him."
You glance at her before looking back at him, running your hands over your apron, approaching the register where he stands.
"The usual?" you ask, and he nods. You click on the screen, bringing up his order. "Anything else?"
"What's your favorite drink?"
You twist your lip, looking up in thought.
"It's a little complicated."
"Tell me."
You take a deep breath.
"Well, I like to get two ristretto shots over ice, add two blue sugars, sometimes I add toffeenut or white mocha, and then I add oatmilk. Or soy, if I want some protein."
He hums.
"One of those too."
You pause, tilting your head quizzically before reaching towards the register.
"What size?"
"Whatever size you get."
You squint in thought, typing in the order. You give him the total, let him insert his credit card, and grab the cups you need. You make his order quickly, placing it at the other end of the counter where he now stands. You work on the second drink, placing it in front of him a minute later. He doesn't move for either drink.
"Is... there anything else I can do for you?"
"Yeah." He pushes the second drink back towards you. "Drink this for me."
"I—"
"And take this." He places the red bag on the counter next to the drink.
"Uh... what is it?" He nods towards the bag.
"Open it."
You hesitate, sliding the bag towards you and glancing inside.
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, you think as you reach in and take out a heavy box wrapped in plastic.
"Perfect by Marc Jacobs?" you ask in a whisper. You glance up at him and he's just staring at you, an intense look in his eye. You swallow, peeling off the plastic and opening the box. You pull out the bottle, removing the cap and sniffing.
"Smells nice." You put the cap back on and look at him again. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
You both stand there silently for a moment before you put the perfume back in the box.
"Did you get this for me because I smell?"
His eyes widen, his hands raised.
"I didn't—"
He stops when you smile and laugh, tossing the plastic in the trash.
"I'm just messing with ya." You see his shoulders loosen as he lowers his arms, a smirk creeping up on his lips.
"Funny."
You move the bag behind the counter, making sure there wasn't a line before returning to him.
"Do you usually buy perfume for girls?"
"No," he replies quickly, finally taking his drink. "Just you."
You hum, grabbing the drink he bought for you.
"Why?"
He swallows his drink, staring at you the whole time.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Um... no, not really."
He scoffs, putting his cup down.
"The flowers, the perfume... what do you think it means?"
"Uh..." You glance at your coworker who's just leaning against the counter, smiling as she watches the two of you. "I, um... I thought you were just trying to be nice."
"You think buying perfume for a stranger is 'trying to be nice'?"
"I don't know," you reply defensively. "I just don't see why else you would give me stuff."
He leans his hands against the counter, bringing his eyes down to your level.
"You really can't think of any reason why someone would bring you flowers and perfume?"
You pause, then shrug, pouting at him. He sighs, hanging his head before standing up straight, grabbing his cup.
"Guess I'll have to try harder next time."
You scrunch your eyebrows as he starts walking away.
"Try what next time?" He doesn't answer, opening the front door. "Try what next time?" you yell after him, but he's already gone, taking a right and walking down the street.
You're dumbstruck. Your coworker starts squealing and jogs to you.
"Oh my god, the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife!" She giggles and bounces. "I can't believe my work bestie is being pursued by a guy like that!"
"He's not pursuing me." She groans, throwing her head back.
"Alright, sure, keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile he'll keep bringing you flowers and then it'll be chocolate and jewelery and–"
You zone out, not paying attention. You glance at the drink he bought for you, wondering.
"He's coming!" your coworker whispers to you, bouncing for a moment before regaining her composure as he walked through the door. He approaches the counter, glancing at her before staring at you. He's carrying a bouquet of roses and a red box wrapped with a white bow.
"You're here for her, right?" she asks, pointing at you. He nods, and she turns, giving you two thumbs up as she walks past you, moving to the other side of the coffee bar. You pause, unsure, but eventually make your way to the register.
"Your usual?" you ask, but he shakes his head.
"Not today." He hands out the flowers and box. "For you."
"I..." You don't know what to say, so you just take the gifts, giving an awkward smile. "Thank you...?"
He nods towards the box.
"Open it."
You try not to show how nervous you are, putting down the roses on the counter. You peel the white ribbon from the box, taking off the red lid.
"Holy fuck?" you whisper, putting down the lid and pulling out a string of pearls. "What is this?"
"They're pearls."
"Yeah, I can see that, but why are you giving them to me?"
"Do you not like them?"
"No, I do like pearls, but–" You put the pearls back in the box, staring up at him. "Why are you giving them to me?"
"So you can wear them."
You roll your eyes.
"What? No, really? I thought I was supposed to eat them."
He smiles.
"You're funny. I like that."
You sigh, putting the lid back on the box, setting it down on the counter.
"Look, you've been really nice, but I don't think this is appropriate."
He glares.
"Why?"
"Well," you start, fiddling with your fingers, "I don't think your girlfriend would like you giving me all these things."
"I don't have a girlfriend." You blink.
"Well, I don't think your boyfriend would—"
He laughs, deep and gruff. It makes your stomach flip in the best way.
"I'm not into men."
"Then... well, why would you—"
"Look," he starts, leaning against the counter. "I want you to wear those pearls. I want you to wear the perfume I got you too. I want you to wear them to dinner with me."
Your cheeks burn. You swallow hard.
"W-Why do you want to have dinner with me?"
"You'll see." He stands up, reaching his hand out. "May I see your phone?"
You hesitate, but reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and handing it to him. He takes it gently—holy fuck his hands are big—and taps at the screen for a little while. He hands the phone back to you, smirking at you. You read the screen, seeing his phone number and contact name: Future Husband 💕.
You sputter, wondering if your face could burn any hotter as you look up at him.
"Send me your address: I'll pick you up on Friday at seven."
Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving the coffee shop. Your coworker squeals behind you.
"Oh my god, girl! I am totally living vicariously through you."
You huff, changing his phone contact to something more sensible.
Buff Guy
༉‧₊˚✧ — migule always had a close eye on you, even when you least expected it. / black fem chubby reader! villain! reader, roleplay, oral (f), overstimulation, miguel has a dick piercing tehehe, penetration, unprotected sex! (pet names! mi alma / my soul, hermosa / beautiful, sweetpea)
(the note.) — finally wrote for my man! prepare to be sick of me 🫶🏾. kinda iffy about this but mwah enjoy, also would loveeee feedback
“am i making you nervous mi alma?” this wasn’t how you expected your day to go. you had plans, big plans that involved a lot of money. you didn’t think the spidervamp would know, but as always you underestimate him.
“far from it” you sneered, wiggling your body around in his white web that had you hanging from the wall. his gaze made you nervous, eyes hard walking around you,examining everything. you were sure he could hear the beats of your heart getting faster the closer he got to you, but you didn’t care - just needing to get out of there
“you can’t leave sweetpea. we have some catching up to do” getting ready to respond with a smart remark, a large gush of wind came over your lower half. it wasn’t until you noticed the fabric of your body suit held in his hand that you realize he ripped it. his eyes turned red looking at you soaking pussy that throbbed, and thick thighs that twitched on command. you smelt heavenly to him, just like your blood and he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to do first. “why would you do that!”
“sh sh sh sh” getting on his knees he spread your legs putting them over his shoulders, his warm breath hit your pussy prompting your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “told you we have some catching up to do mi alma” he put one kiss on you softly taking note when your head got thrown back a slow huff left your mouth.
“ughh n-nouhh” swiping his tongue between your fat lips, slick gathered on the tip of his tongue that he swallowed eagerly, his cock starting to twitch in the skin tight suit making the fabric stretch. having enough of playing with his food, miguel flicked his tongue wildly, and wherever he could reach, his eyes were closed as he moaned in your heat sending vibrations throughout your body. he was so focused on your taste and thighs clenching against his head that he didn’t stop, he kept going up until you had cum just from his tongue three times. your cream dripping down his face and nose shining with wetness, a happy smile precent on his face
“n-no more!” you pled holding your hands up in surrender. “awe that’s cute hermosa. daddy’s not done” pressing a small button his suit came undone leaving him in all of the glory he came into the world with. his large chest flexed, while he cock bounced with each step he took getting closer to you, spreading your legs he took ahold of his dick smearing his precum all over your already messy cunt. the small ring that decorated the pretty mushroom tip, grazed your hot kitty making you jump back in pleasure
“oh this little thing? you can handle it” chuckling miguel pushed deep into you, you both letting a string off curses fall out of your mouths, miguel’s just being in his mother language. he held your thighs giving you hard, slow thrust that took your breath away each time. in your half ripped body suit your tit’s and tummy bounced turning miguel on even more
“la zorra perfecta” he groaned when you pussy clenched, cream fall down to his ball making a mess. the piercing hit your spot constantly, your nails dug into the web making it rip a little and you fall more onto him making your tummy bubbling from the feeling of being close. “c-closeee” you whine pushing yourself off of his dick which only gave him leverage to go deeper
miguel’s hair was glued to his face, cock pulsing inside of you, grabbing your face, you guy’s eyes interlocked. his mouth opened wide, fangs shooting out and plunging into your neck, the pain that made you scream out was turned into a scream of too much pleasure. the venom that miguel’s fangs withheld didn’t effect a soulmate, infact it brought pleasure upon them and not only them but himself.
your creamy slick dripped all over his dick, his thick, gooey cum filling you so much that it fell out of your pussy when he pulled back to look over his work
“that’s was fun mi alma. now let’s get you to bed before the kids wake up” oh how you loved your husband
He can definitely teach me a few things in person (≧◡≦) (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
❥ SHOTA AIZAWA X FEM!READER
❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k
❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: cam girl!reader, former student/teacher relationship (but you're still his ~favorite~), praise, mutual masturbation, sex toys, use of "good girl", lots of dirty talk, aizawa is a pervert and we all know it
→ Kinktober Masterlist ←
“Look how far you’ve come.” Shota loves how you still tremble at his praise, fingers faltering on the screen. “Remember when you used to be so shy? And now you’re just spreading your pussy open for me.”
His gaze follows every movement, breath in his throat as you part your labia and slide your fingers down your folds.
He really thought it was just a rumor that the young generation of heroes had taken to social media to make money. Less villains meant less pay, sure, but he never thought he’d find you on one of his favorite sites, using the body he trained to stuff yourself with toys.
“You were always one of my favorites. Always such a good girl.”
“I’m still a good girl, Sensei. Promise.”
You prove your point by smearing your fingers over your clit, moaning as your hips buck.
“Yeah? Then show me your face, sweetheart. Wanna fist my cock to every inch of you.”
It’s so wrong. He feels like a dirty old fuck in his bedroom, sweats shoved down to his knees and his laptop screen glowing in the dark on the bed next to him. His camera faces the muscles of his chest, angled just perfectly so you can see the dark trail of hair that leads down to his cock. The frame captures the pump of his bicep as he strokes his dick, yet he leaves it up to your imagination to piece together what’s happening off screen.
“Then you have to show me your face too, okay?”
There’s the nervousness he’s used to hearing crackle in your sweet voice. Always so studious, so sweet, the most pleasant of all the brats to deal with. You only ever wanted to please.
He knew it was you by your bedspread in the thumbnail to your page. You still have the same pillows you used to have at U.A., all plush and girly with a memorable stuffie tucked off to the side.
“Maybe next time,” he offers, watching your tits heave and nipples tighten as you debate fulfilling his request.
Your camera lens is focused from the bottom of your bed, allowing him the perfect view from your spread thighs to your delicate collarbone. You never show your face, not to anyone, not even in one-on-one chat rooms. He read your rules, but he’s special—he’s no scary stranger, just a perverted sicko who wants to watch his former student fuck herself for him.
He shouldn’t be doing this. But god he can’t help himself. He’s seen you flourish as a pro hero, tight suits and bright smiles to the public, and all he’s ever thought about is how fucking pretty you must look naked.
“Then at least show me your cock, Sensei.”
You have got to stop calling him that. Yet his cock throbs and leaks at the honorific.
“Fine.”
His simple answer is enough to convince you. You sit up on your knees on the bed and lean forward, making his mouth water as your breasts fill his screen.
Shota strangles his cock in his fist as all of you comes into view. You raise the camera high enough to show your whole bed from an upward angle, letting him leer at you from head to toe.
“Atta girl.” He groans as you lean back against your pillows with one hand anxiously running a finger over your lips. You stare right at him through his laptop screen and it makes his balls swell. “I’ve missed your pretty face.”
He watches how his words make you press your already sticky thighs together, like his voice shot straight down to your cunt.
“Oh yeah? Have you missed me, too? Do you think about your old Sensei?”
Moaning, you’re unashamed to slide your hand down your stomach, spreading your thighs so you can relieve the ache he’s building between your legs.
“Mhmm, I do. Right now I’m thinking about what your cock looks like.”
He’d almost forgotten his promise. Shota looks down at his length, sucking in a deep breath at the sight of himself swollen and drooling for you. He pumps himself a few times just to feel the pleasure, to gain the courage to drag the laptop with his free hand just enough to bring his dick into the picture.
A sharp little gasp from you echoes into his room and he’s suddenly far too self-satisfied. He admires how you writhe on your bed, pulling your knees up so he can once again see the full image of your wet pussy.
“You’re so big,” you whisper like you mean it, like you’re wishing you had his cock in your hand instead of his.
“You think I’d fit inside you, hm?”
You’re like a curious cat eyeing him across the screen, lashes fluttering as you glance him over from base to tip. You must have a screen set up right next to your camera because your gaze is still meeting his as your head bobs up and down with the way he strokes his cock.
“I dunno,” you moan as you spread your legs wider, two fingers dipping to prod at your hole, “you’re bigger than my toys.”
“And I bet that little cunt is so tight. Put your fingers in and show me.”
You still listen so obediently, just like when you were his student.
He thumbs the head of his cock as he watches you sink two fingers into yourself, the microphone picking up the wet squish of your cunt. Your belly tightens with pleasure as you start to pump the digits into your pussy, slow at first and then picking up pace as your bliss builds.
“Tell me what you would want me to do to you if I was there.”
There’s no filter for him now, not with your messy cunt filling his screen and your hand now plucking at your nipple.
You take a moment to think, pretty head falling back to the pillows as you moan for him.
“Always wanted to kiss you, Sensei. Want to feel your hands all over me, ah,” you press the palm of your hand against your clit as you talk, making you nearly whine between breaths, “and I’d want your cock in my mouth.”
“You like sucking dick, sweetheart?”
He starts matching the pace of his fist to your fingers, picturing his cock sliding between your plush, parted lips.
“I like having my face fucked,” you admit and it makes him groan.
His noise spurs you on, makes you grab your tit and squeeze as your fingers move faster.
“I’d love to slide my cock past your sweet lips and into your throat. Want you to gag on it, spit running down your face as I take what I want.”
“Yes, want you to take what you want from me. Want you to use me, fill me up and fuck me with that fat cock, Sensei.”
He nearly chokes at your words, blushing at how filthy your mouth is. He pumps himself faster, picturing having your soft body in his lap, your sloppy cunt sinking down onto him.
“How do you want me to fuck you?”
The moan that sounds from his laptop is so lovely, the slick sound of your fingers in your pussy making him shiver.
“I can show you?” you ask more than state, pausing to look straight into the camera feed. “With a toy, I mean. Y-you can pick.”
God, you’re such a delightful little minx. Shota squeezes the base of his cock as the mental image of you fucking yourself on a toy nearly topples him over the edge. He doesn’t know how he will handle actually viewing it.
“Get your biggest dildo. Let’s see how it compares to me.”
Any ounce of guilt he feels fades when you return to your bed with a purple, silicone cock, long and thick but not nearly as fat as the throbbing flesh he holds in his hand.
“Guess you weren’t lying, were you, sweetheart? I’ll be the biggest thing that little pussy has ever taken.”
Shota doesn’t care if he’s stepping beyond the realm of hypotheticals—he’ll get his hands on you, one way or another, all in due time.
“Wanna see how I want you to fuck me?” you ask with the cutest smile, like you’re hiding such a naughty secret.
“Show me. Fuck yourself for me, tell me every little thing I’m doing to you.”
He props an arm behind his head to get comfortable, the muscles of his abs and lats rippling in the dim light of the screen. He threads his fingers through his long hair and tugs the moment he sees you turn and get on your knees, bending until you’re in the most sinful doggy position he’s ever seen.
“You start slow,” your voice drops to a sensual note, thick like honey, “cause you want me to feel every inch go inside me.”
The hand wrapped around his cock is moving before he can even think to stop, squeezing hard as he watches you reach around your body and start pushing the dildo between your pussy lips.
Shota gets too close to the screen, strands of black hair grazing the edge of the camera, face still out of sight. His gaze scans from corner to corner, watching as if he intends to commit every single detail to memory.
Your pussy sucks in the tip of the dildo, making you mewl, and slowly, torturously, you shove the length of it into your hole.
“How do I feel?”
“So good, want you to move, want you to fuck me hard.”
You take the initiative to start bouncing the dildo in your pussy, sliding it in and out, building speed. The sound is licentious, wet, all mixed together with the short, airy moans you let out with every push into your body. Slick is starting to build on the silicone, creamy and thick.
“Do you always get so wet or is it just for me?”
“All for you, Sensei. Cause you feel so good, you fuck me like I’ve always wanted.”
Shota smears his thumb through the pre-cum freshly leaking from his cock, using it as lubricant as he starts a brutal pace on himself. He can hear the repetitive slap of his wrist hitting his thigh echo into the laptop microphone.
“That right? You’re a dirty girl for wanting to fuck her teacher.”
“You’re so good to me, you rub my clit just how I like it.”
He examines how one of your hands reaches under your body, two dainty fingers swirling around your clit before kneading it quickly, like you’re just so desperate to cum for him.
The strokes he gives his cock are furious, other hand now coming down to cup his balls and roll them in his palm. His stomach flexes at the pleasure, picturing how that perfect cunt of yours would be squeezing him so tightly.
“You wanna cum for me? Wanna cum all over your Sensei’s cock?”
“Please,” you groan into the sheets, hips now bucking with the pace of the dildo slamming into you, “will you let me cum? You said I’m such a good girl? Ah, ah, one of your favorites?”
“Always my favorite, sweetheart. Show me how you cum, let me see you make a mess of yourself.”
Your knuckles are tight against the base of the dildo, using all your strength to fuck into yourself. You’re so close to the edge, panting, whining, hole stretched and practically weeping around the purple silicone.
“You know I’ll fuck you faster, right? Harder. Just wait until I get my hands on you.”
Your tongue falls loose, “Want your hands on my hips, want you to spank me, oh god, pull my hair, kiss me and fuck me and tell me I’m all yours.”
“You’re gonna cum for me, scream for me, all for me, got it?”
He can see the way your head shakes on the bed, mascara dripping down the side of your face that he can see. Tears are in your lashes, your lip caught between your teeth, and even still you’re looking back for him, watching him tug and pull his cock with your name in his mouth.
“God you’re so hot, your cock’s so big—”
A beautiful, strangled noise comes out of you as you finally come apart, your cunt clamping down around the dildo and your motions stilling. You scream into the mattress, all high-pitched and fucked out. Slick squelches from your stuffed hole, dripping down your thighs.
With the scene before him, it only takes a few more pumps before he’s unloading, cum spurting out over his knuckles and up onto his stomach, rope after rope spilling out for you.
His room goes quiet, his pants and your whiny breaths the only sound he hears over the pounding of his heart.
Finally, you shift on your bed, and he does his best not to look at the mess he’s made in his hand.
“Um,” you awkwardly clear your throat, looking away from him as you slide the dildo from your cunt. He can’t help but watch the way your pussy lips drag along the length.
The post-nut clarity hits him like a steam roller. His clean hand grabs his laptop, ready to shut the screen and pretend none of this ever transpired except in the guilty pit of his daydreams—
“Shota,” you mumble, sitting on your knees and holding your body, “this was, uh, well really…hot. I…I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
His ears perk, unsure if he’s ever heard you call him by his first name.
Before he changes his mind, he drags the laptop on his bed until the camera catches his face. You blink so prettily at the sight of him, dropping one of your hands from your breast like you’re just so comfortable seeing him.
“Next time will be in person.”
You give him the most genuine little smile, “Promise?”
Locked in for life XD(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
More Than A Favor
Bakugou x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, Breeding, Awkward Sexual Situations, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Humor
WC: 5.6K
a/n: This is a reupload too. But I wanted to get it out because i started thinking about the moment these two are waiting for the positive pregnancy test. Also my b, this reader is so heavily marq coded all the way down to the way she speaks im so sorry bahahah. BUT this started off as a comfort fic so.... that's why it's like this. sorry.
“I just need you to spurt in my pussy so I can have a baby! Easy peasy!”
You’re standing in the hallway of your shared apartment building with Katsuki and he can’t believe his ears right now. Of all the years of being your best friend and listening to the wild shit that comes out of your mouth, you’d think he’d be immune to the surprise. But like always you’re always keeping him on his toes.
Still though, this “favor” might prove to be a little too much even for him. You know he’d do anything for you, the same way you’d do anything for him. You’ve been the one constant over the last few years too. Stuck by him when he was an asshole, when he wasn’t an asshole, when he ghosted that girl he was dating, even bailed him out when he got arrested for breaking the stupid paparazzi's camera.
He grimaces and wrinkles his nose in disgust, “Ugh, dont fucking say it like that!”
You laugh boisterously, your dimples sinking into your cheeks as you beam at him, “How else do you want me to say it? Is that not what would be happening?”
“Yeah but do you gotta use the word spurt? It’s…” he hesitates.
“Fine. Would you rather me say ‘Katsuki will you please ejaculate all the sperm saved up in your testicles into my vagina so that you can fertilize the egg in my uterus?’”
“You’re a fucking nightmare ya know that?”
How long has Katsuki been in love with you? He actually can’t pinpoint it. In fact, he may only be realizing it now as the thought of you wobbling around pregnant with his kid fills his mind and makes him look like one of those sappy in love guys in the romance manga he reads.
“So is that a yes?”
He shoots you his signature “I’m bein’ serious” face and you laugh again, filling the room with your joy.
“Oh come on Katsuki. Look I promise, you won't have to do a thing after I get pregnant. I won't ask you for any help or child support or whatever. The kid doesn't even have to know you’re their real dad,” you say now looking serious as you explain.
That gives him pause. Are you saying this because you don’t want to be with him? He wouldn’t force himself in the kids life if he agreed to do this, not if you didn't want him around. That desperation in your eyes though. Why don’t you get it? If you asked him to catapult himself to the moon, he’d fucking do it.
“I know you’re focused on getting to number one and you're super close and…Katsu I hope you know I would never do anything to get in the way of that but…my window is closing real soon. And I have the opportunity now and obviously I am painfully single right now so…”
Oh. You think he doesn’t want this. You think you’re burdening him. Damn…all this time he’s known you were clueless but for the love of shit you can’t be this clueless. Katsuki hasn’t had a date in…two years? Yeah that’s it. And in those two years he's spent almost every day with you, hangin’ out, goin’ on trips, watching movies, doing mundane life shit. Hell in his mind, the two of you are practically married already.
But it’s clear you don’t think the same. Maybe you don’t see him that way? Which means… this entire thing could get real real messy.
Katsuki squints, “You’re serious? Like you're sure you want this?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.”
He knows that’s the truth. It’s all you ever talk about when you both talk about your goals and dreams. He wants to be number one and you wanna be a mom. But still the question remains, would you wanna be a mom to his kid?
“And you’re sure you wanna do this…with me?” he asks again.
You shrug nonchalantly, “Why not? You’re my best friend. I trust you with my life. This is just as precious.”
Goddamn you saying sentimental shit like that so nonchalantly. It’s like your fucking superpower.
“Yeah but what if…shit gets weird after,” he stammers, raising an eyebrow.
“Why would it get weird?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Cuz…yannow how weird it gets when two friends start fucking. Look at Sparky and Hanta. It’s been off since they hooked up last month at Mina’s party,” he explains, throwing his hands up in frustration.
“Well I don’t know how you do it, but I wouldn’t consider you jacking it into my pussy would qualify as us ‘fucking’”, you say curling your nose up in judgement.
“I'm bein’ serious,” he retorts, bumping your forehead lightly with his palm.
“So am I! Look we’ve been through…so much shit together. My mom’s death, All Might’s death, the hero charts, breakdowns during the middle of the night while I try to get my degree, the very very bad break up with the one we do not speak about…none of that got the better of us so I don't see why this would either.”
Katsuki looks away from you now, Eyes dropping to the floor. He almost chokes when your tiny hand curls around his chin lightly and makes him look back at you. You’re wearing that expression again, the “you’re the only one in my universe” expression he’s seen you use as a weapon to bartenders to get you both free booze.
But this time, there’s no tricks.
This time, you mean it.
“Hey, I mean it. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna lose anyone else so if you’re completely against it, tell me and I’ll drop it right now,” you assert.
Katsuki sighs and plops a hand on top of your head, rubbing gently to make sure he doesn’t mess up your hair.
“Gimme some time to think about it alright? It doesn't mean No. It means I gotta…prepare…I guess.”
Your smile returns, along with your irresistible ass dimples. “That’s totally fine! I won't start ovulating until next month anyway so take all the time you need!” you chirp.
You both continue down the hallway, your apartments located toward the end of the hall. When you reach his door, you pause before heading a bit farther down the way to your place.
“Hey Katsu?”
“What now?” Katsuki asks exasperated as he pulls out his key.
When he turns to look at you, you’re staring at him with the big wide serious eye again. You look a little nervous, anxious as you twiddle your fingers in front of you. Geez, he’ll never get over how fucking pretty you are.
“Thank you. Even if you refuse, thank you, for at least considering it,” you say bowing graciously to him.
His heart thumps in his chest but he shakes it off quickly and bumps your forehead again playfully. “Tsk, dumb ass. You act like I don’t always consider the crazy shit you come up with.”
The playful jab soothes you again, and just like before the anxiety melts away into glee.
“Crazy shit?!? Admit it, I make your life fun and exciting. If it weren't for me you’d be at home watching “How It’s Made” videos on Youtube,” you say sticking your tongue out at him as you brush past onward to your apartment.
“Fuck you! That shit is interesting I don't care what you say,” he calls after you as you laugh and skip away.
Katsuki watches your swaying hips as you go. He’s definitely got a lot of shit to think about tonight.
Never have you ever found a ceiling more interesting than right now.
Ok, it’s not all that interesting but you are surely going to act like it is. Refusing to look Katsuki in the eyes as you lie on your back in his dark ass bedroom, legs spread with the string of your underwear cutting into your plush soft waist is by far the only way to keep this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it already is.
You suppose the best part of looking at the ceiling is that it’s not your own. You're at Katsuki’s apartment and of all the times you’ve been here, all the nights you’ve spent here you’ve never looked at his ceiling. Your mind wanders as the sound of fabric shifting idly becomes the background noise in your mind.
“The ceiling that interestin’?” A gruff voice says from the end of the bed.
God it’s like he’s in your head, which again shouldn’t be a surprise. There’s literally no other person in existence who knows the way your mind works better than Katsuki. He is your best friend after all.
Your eyes shift to him and immediately you find it to be a mistake. He’s shirtless, the black sweatpants he wears are low on his hips and goddamn…have you really never noticed how tiny his waist is compared to his broad ass shoulders? And… has he always been like… that fit?
No. Bad. Stop that. That is not where this is supposed to be going. This is a business deal between friends. Nothing more.
In a desperate attempt to keep the mood humorous, you scoff.
“Actually ceilings are really sexy so I’m trying to concentrate and get in the mood and you’re ruining it,” you reply, letting your eyes reluctantly fall away from him and return to the ceiling.
You can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes, “Let’s just hurry and get this shit over with. Sooner we do it, sooner this stops being weird,” he huffs, moving closer to the edge of the bed.
His anxious tone should make you feel bad but strangely, it’s comforting. It’s good to know you’re both feeling the same way.
This is a big thing you’re asking of him, and you know he’s been on the fence about it since you asked. Honestly, you expected him to say no. But when he’d accepted a few days ago, you’d tried to ignore the way his reply of “When have I ever been able to say no to you,” made your stomach do flips.
“Thanks again Katsu. For agreeing to this. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life paying you back for it,” you say gently, still avoiding looking at him.
He huffs again, but you hear the hesitation, the hitch in his breath at your soft confession. He taps your knee and waits for you to give him your attention again.
Again it’s a mistake, looking at him, because his expression is soft and tender it makes your lips part in a gasp.
“Pay it back by bein’ a good mom to the kid,” he mutters quietly.
The searing touch of his hand on your knee makes you swallow a lump in your throat. Something about Katsuki referring to you as a mom makes a bubble of emotion rush its way to your tear ducts but you bite back the sob with a smile.
“I promise.”
“Alright, I’m comin’ to ya. Ya ready?” he asks and slowly you nod.
With a low groan, Katsuki crawls on the bed between your legs, nudging them more apart so he can fit comfortably between them. With his body hovering over yours it makes this feel more real.
You are about to do this. You are about to be impregnated by your best friend.
Katsuki was nice enough to let you change into a shirt of his that’s way bigger on you than a regular shirt. It drapes down over your ass and covers your panties. But while lying on your back with your legs spread and him between them you can’t help but feel more vulnerable than if you were wearing your own clothes. He’d said it would help you feel “less exposed” but in the back of your mind you wonder if he gets off on seeing girls in his shirt before he fucks them.
That is another forbidden thought you shouldn’t have. You’re not like the other girls he fucks because he is not “fucking” you. He’s going to jack himself until he gets right to the cusp of orgasm and then insert himself to finish inside you.
It’s hardly sex. More like… helpful masturbation at this point but still…him being inside you… that’s…something different.
“Alright uhh… if you’re ready I’m gonna… take it out now,” he stammers nervously,as he stares into your eyes.
Your eyes flick down to his groin and then back up to his eyes. Another desperate attempt to lighten the mood falls from your lips.
“With your pants still on? Like this is a quickie?” you say in mock shock.
Katsuki growls in frustration. His brows pull together and he pouts his lips.
“I’m doin’ it for you! Plus I thought it’d be weird if I was butt ass naked jacking my dick over your fully clothed body so shut it!”
You shake your head in defiance, “Hold on now! First of all, I’m not fully clothed. Second, I told you to do whatever you need to be the most comfortable. That’s why we’re at your place, Katsu. So if ya need to take our pants off, just take ‘em off for christ sake!” you glare back at him trying not to smile.
It’s your typical banter with him. He tries to make you comfortable. You yell at him and tell him to worry about himself. Nice to see you two can still fall back into the groove of friendship. Which is why you know after this, the two of you will be ok.
“Fine! I’ll take em off then! But you gotta take your stupid panties off too. If it’s about my comfort, pullin’ em to the side is annoying as shit,” he yells, moving off the bed to slip his pants down his legs.
You notice, he’s not wearing underwear and as you lift up to slip your own underwear down your thighs and ball them up to place next to your head, you avert your eyes from Katsuki’s –admittedly impressive–cock.
When you both are back into position–you on your back with the shirt pulled over your but pussy out and Katsuki leaning back on his thighs with a pillow over his junk–you’re both breathing heavily. His skin is hot against yours as his thighs brush against your inner thigh. You stop the tremble that starts up your spine and try to focus on the ceiling again as Katsuki’s hand moves between his own legs.
You hear him clear his throat, and say “I’m startin’ now,” and then inhale as his hand wraps around his cock. He closes his eyes, which you appreciate. It means you can look around if you want to and in a second of courage you take the chance to observe his technique.
Ok so yeah… Katsuki is fucking hung. Not a fact you thought you’d ever know about him. It’s not like the two of you don’t swap sex stories but he’s never gone into detail. He’s hot, you know that and so does he, but you never thought his dick could be another reason why it’s so easy for him to get laid when he wants.
His waist is enviable and his abs ripple down his torso. He’s got a happy trail of brown hair that gradually grows into a bush of blond coily hair. With his eyes closed you’re also able to get a good look at his dick. Katsuki’s got massive hands and it still looks like he’s having trouble getting his entire palm around the girth of it. It makes your mouth water–although it shouldn’t.
And naughtily you believe his may be the thickest cock you’ve ever taken.
“Uhh…” he pauses, his eyes are open and yours quickly flit away from his cock and up to his eyes. He looks worried which is good because it means he didn’t catch you looking at him.
“What?” you ask breathlessly.
He raises an eyebrow and then both brows furrow again and the hand that’s not on his cock drums against his thigh nervously. “You’re breathing is all weird and shit, you—“
“Just hurry up and jack it Katsuki,” you interrupt, wanting to divert the attention away from your dumb ass horny inappropriate thoughts about your best friend.
He smirks as if he knows what you’re doing but only jokes and says “Heh, never thought I'd hear that said to me before.”
“Oh my god, would you just–” You don’t finish because he tips a bit off balance while he’s sitting back on his knees and balancing on his thighs and feet. When he rocks off balance, he grabs your thigh to steady himself and the action makes you gasp in delight.
The moan that would come after is thankfully trapped in your throat by a wall of disintegrating control. As if he didn’t hear it at all, Katsuki steadies himself, mutters an apology and gets back to it.
As his hand moves slowly up and down his shaft, you notice it stays a bit boneless in his palm. His eyes are closed again, his face is craned up to the ceiling and his body is shaking as he furiously keeps stroking to get himself there. After about three minutes you cover your eyes and grab his wrist to stop him.
“Are you…like…okay?” you ask, shielding your eyes to respect his privacy.
Katsuki groans, “It's harder than it looks!” he spits in annoyance.
In an attempt to quickly soothe him you put both hands up in surrender and forget the reason you were shielding your eyes in the first place .
“Hey I’m not saying it’s not! I get it alright I just…” your words trickle off as you stare at him again, propped up on your elbows.
This time he doesn’t cover himself which is odd. And what’s even odder is you don’t shield your eyes again. He’s got that “I’ve got an idea” look but it’s paired with a guilt only you’re able to recognize.
“Do you want me to help?” you ask in a whisper.
Katsuki’s eyes widen, his cheeks blush red and you can tell for a split second he contemplates saying yes before he sputters out “…No! I don't need any damn help.”
You smirk, “You hesitated.”
He shakes his head roughly, the spiky hair on top of his head shaking like leaves on a tree caught in a storm. “No no just shut the fuck up and let me focus. And cover your eyes back up.”
“I could…take the shirt off or something if that will help?” you suggest.
This time he does visibly hesitate and think about your suggestion. He probably thinks since you brought it up, it’s more acceptable to agree.
Plus…you know your strengths and your rack is definitely one of them.
Finally he relents, “…fine.”
The shirt is off and over your head in seconds, leaving you Winnie the Pooh-ing it in a black bra.. He looks away, trying not to look at your pussy but you notice the quick glances and the way his dick twitches at the sight even more. This time, you cover your eyes, electing to give Katsuki a chance to look at you and get himself going.
As it turns out, not being able to see him but being able to hear him proves to be even more sexually stimulating. Katsuki’s hand sounds wetter now, making lewd noises as his hand rubs up and down his dick. His breathing is different too, it’s heavier, littered with more sharp inhales and hissing. You even think you hear him mutter to himself.
You lick your lips, is the difference just because he can see your tits now? Or maybe he’s not even looking at your tits. You are pussy out right now. Maybe he’s looking at your cunt. Maybe he’s fantasizing about when he will get to put it i–
“Look I uhh… I hate ta ask but can I uhh…” his voice pulls you out of the spiral of thoughts plaguing you.
You peek at him through a sliver between your fingers, “Can you what?” you inquire.
“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly, the blush spreading over his cheeks again.
You’re a little confused. Why wouldn’t he touch you? How does he expect to like… do the whole “impregnate” thing without touching you. You’re sure you already gave him the consent. But as you watch him nibble on the dead skin of his bottom lip and his eyes flit to the sheets and sneak glances at your tits, you understand what he means.
“Oh! Ohhh. Umm yeah…yeah whatever helps,” you say brightly, trying to encourage him you’re ok with it.
“I'll stop as soon as you say,” he relents.
“Ok.”
His hand hovers nervously over your tit, he flexes his fingers as he readies himself. You become hyper aware of your budding nipples in the chilly air of the apartment. They poke through the fabric of your bra and you’ll admit you want him to just get it over with and grab it already.
When he does, his hand is so warm it shocks you and you intake a sharp inhale. Immediately, he tears his hand away
“What?! What did I hurt ya or—“ His eyes are wide and he almost leaps off the bed in worry.
You shake your head, “No no! I just…nothing, it's fine. Just keep going,”you assure him.
How the hell do you tell him it felt way too good for your best friend to grab your tits? You won’t. That’s a dirty little secret you’ll keep to yourself. But when he goes to grab them both and massages them deeply you realize your body might be more of a tell than you thought.
There’s a moan yo-yoing in your throat. A fierce visceral moan that begs to be released, especially when Katsuki hums and starts to stroke himself again. Setting a nice pace of grinding his fingers into the plump flesh of your tits, flicking your nipple to elicit light gasps from you, and stroking his now noticeably pre-glistened cock, you try your best not to let a peep come from you.
The last thing he needs is to feel even more awkward after having to ask to touch your boobs for help in getting it up. It worked though. He’s definitely up. And damn… was it always that mouth watering to look at when you first saw it?
No…mouth-watering is not the best word to describe your best friend’s cock if you’re trying to avoid catching any complicated feelings. Which you are so you whisper a silent scold to your brain to get it together.
Katsuki’s hands on you make it so very difficult to keep up this ruse of not being completely and totally turned on. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth and your fingers are digging into the mattress at your sides.
You think he’s caught on to your act when he stops again.
“Alright what’s the deal? What's with the face and the noises?” he growls.
You shake your head, “Just keep going! It's fine!”
To your dismay he doesn’t budge, “It don't look fine ta me!”
God, why can’t he just take the hint and keep going!
“I'm just trying not to make this all awkward ok?!?
“It’s already awkward!” he insists.
“Yeah well I'm trying not to make it even more awkward! Like you're doing now! Maybe that should be your quirk, the ability to make something awkward even more awkward.”
“Shut up! Look you can't not tell me what's going on with ya. You need ta talk to me if we’re doin’ this. I can't tell if you’re uncomfortable or whatever if you don't say someth—
You can’t believe this is happening right now. Katsuki is literally sitting with his dick out arguing with you. God do you really have to say it to him?
“I'm not uncomfortable! I'm just trying not to moan Katsuki!” you shout at him, blowing an exasperated and embarrassed sigh that makes your lips push out in defeat.
He blinks and jolts back as if surprised. “What?”
Defeated and now basking in the pure shame and guilt of the moment you groan, “You’re standing over me jacking your dick and fondling my tits! It’s…erotic. And this is not supposed to be an erotic encounter so for the love of pete just keep going so we can get this ov–”
“Don’t…don’t be silent…” he says now with an expression that is dangerous. Very very dangerous because that is not the way you’d look at your best friend you’re only trying to impregnate as a favor. He’s looking at you like… like he wants you.
Now it’s your turn to blink in confusion. “What?”
Katsuki huffs, this entire ordeal finally getting to him, “Look you want me to fucking jack it, right? Listening to moans helps so…ya don't gotta be quiet.”
He reaches out and lets a finger trace your nipple and you arch up into his touch and let out a breathless sigh that sounds like…heaven. He nods, muttering a sexy “mm hmm that’s it” to himself as your back straightens again.
Oh fuck this is so much easier when you have the ok to let loose. When he touches you now all the hesitation is gone, between your legs slick dribbles from your cunt and as Katsuki’s pace on his cock quickens, your moans get louder.
You don’t even have to tell him he can touch your bare chest, he just shuffles one of your straps down to expose your tit and palms it as he moans.
“My hand cold?” He asks when you jolt at his touch.
“N…no…it’s…so warm…” you pant.
You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from begging him not to stop. Not only are his hands warm, they’re surprisingly soft. A bit calloused from the hero work but soft as he handles your tits with care.
He smirks, “Good.”
Your sounds of pleasure fill the room now, mixed with the lewd wet noises of Katsuki’s hand on his cock, you’re sure it probably sound like you two actually are fucking. Especially when he leans over to gently blow on your nipple. The tip of his tongue flicks it for just a second, only giving himself a tiny sample of you without taking it too far.
He knows you like it because your moans become gentle coaxes of his name, “Mmm…ah…I…umm Katsu…I Uhh…”
His name tumbling from your lips seems to be the catalyst for release because his breath hitches again and he finally announces, “I’m getting close…I’m getting close I—I should put it in now.”
He’s leaking from the tip of his cock and he has the goddamn nerve to rub the head through your folds and tap your clit before he lines himself up. He’s gotten too comfortable or maybe...he’s a little lost in the sauce right now. When you glance up to look at him, his eyes are already on you.
In fact his stare is hot, piercing as he locks eyes with you. Your lips part again and he bites his own. Is it insane to think about kissing him right now?
Slowly he enters you, pushing past that first ring of muscle in your pussy and fucking hell you were right about him being the thickest you’ve ever had. You feel yourself open up and part around him as he slides in. You’re so full you swear you can feel him in your stomach and it’s absolutely slutty of you to arch your back and dip your hips forward so he’s embedded even deeper.
The best part though is watching him as he presses his hips forward. He throws his head back and groans loudly. And the sigh of pure contentment and pleasure that bubbles in his chest is to die for. It’s like…he’s been waiting years to feel this, instead of the frenzied horny dazed minutes of him fucking his own fist.
“Holy shit you’re tight. How come you feel so…oh fuck…” he moans wantonly, his question caught in his throat. His gravelly tone is littered with soft desperate little whimpers you're sure have never breached his lips before.
Your legs are shaking.
Unbelievable.
He’s only just bottomed out, hasn’t moved an inch and your legs are fucking shaking. Every sensitive little nerve in your pussy is firing off messages of pleasure and ecstasy and completely tuned into the cock stuffed inside you right now.
How can he feel this good? Is it just because of the meds that trigger your ovulation making you more sensitive? Somehow you don’t think that’s the case. There’s electricity shooting up all your limbs as Katsuki’s hands settle on the sides of your waist. Your lips tingle and you truly believe the only way to stop it is to have his lips on yours. He shifts a bit, leaning over you and trying to angle himself in a way that has your head spinning and your eyes fluttering like a slot machine.
The tip of his cock brushes lightly against your cervix as if giving it a tiny gentle kiss as a warning for the load he will give you. The thought makes all your limbs tighten, makes a knot in your belly constrict and then snap loose as you clench around him and tumble off a cliff and into pure ecstasy.
Your fingers dig into the sheets at your side, and like lightning he grabs your wrist and pulls them up above your head, intertwining his finger with yours. His body completely covers yours now as his breath washes over your face. He’s staring at you, watching your eyes flutter with a goofy grin and then…
“Oh…oh fuck Katsu—“
His lips crash into yours as you speak, his tongue invades, licking and twirling around yours as you hungrily taste him. The tingling in your lips only subsides when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles. You find your legs wrapping around his waist, his tiny enviable waist you’d admired only a few minutes ago, and nudge him forward with the heel of your foot.
“Squeezin’ that tight I’m gonna fucking cu–” again he stops himself midsentence as his hips grind into you. He can’t bear to pull out to pound into you, obsessed with the way you’re wrapped around him. So he grinds against the soft warm walls of your cunt, letting you massage his cock before he cums with a roar followed by whispered sweet words in your ear.
The only thing keeping you from passing out right now, is the occasional twitching of his cock as he fills you. It almost feels unstoppable, he’s growling, whimpering, moaning and mumbling like a drunk man as he kisses your shoulder and as you come down now from your orgasm you wrap your arms around his back and card your fingers through the undercut at the base of his neck.
The two of you stay that way, wrapped up in each other for what seems like forever before he pulls back to look at you with an expression that makes you roll your eyes in annoyance.
He’s smirking, giddy like a boy who’s just seen a titty for the first time. He doesn’t even have to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking.
“Stop it,” you pout with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow.
Katsuki chuckles, the mischievous proud grin only growing wider. “Stop what?” he tries to ask innocently.
You try to push him away a bit, putting your palms on his chest but of course he doesn’t budge.
“Stop giving me the ‘I just made you cum’ face,” you retort.
The grin widens even further, if you can believe it.
He chuckles, “But I did, didn't I? And based on the way you're still shakin’ I’d bet I was a pretty good one.” Unbelievably he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.
“Yeah well I made you cum too and you don't see me smirking.”
“Maybe ya should.”
“We should not be having this conversation while your dick is still in me twitching so just shut up and wait a few minutes before you pull out,” you grumble.
In a slightly uncomfortable but tender moment, Katsuki lies his head on your chest and listens to your heart. He traces a series of moles down the valley of your cleavage absently.
Your face heats and he laughs again. “So much for it not being weird,” you sigh.
“Knew it would be,” he mutters.
“And you still agreed?”
“Puffs, if you thought I was gonna pump a baby in ya and then leave ya to raise it without me, then maybe I should think about gettin’ a new best friend cuz my best friend woulda known I could never do some shit like that. Eijiro is in the running for your spot. He knew,” he explains.
That shouldn't make you emotional, deep down you knew he wouldn’t just abandon you. Especially if the kid is his but–
“But what about Number One and–”
“Can’t I do both? You’re the one who made it an either or thing,” he says shrugging.
“But do you even…like me…like that?” you ask, blushing again. Ridiculous, you sound like a middle schooler or something.
“My dick is literally still in you right now and I just told you I’d raise a kid with you. How many other ways do I need to say it, idiot?” He replies incredulously.
“I mean… An ‘I like you and wanna date you’ wouldn’t hurt,” you say sheepishly.
Katsuki groans, “For the love of…” and then he takes your face between his fingers and makes you look into his eyes and replies,
“I like you and I wanna start a damn family with you. There. That good enough?”
---
dividers: @/cafekitsune, @/strangergraphics
This is a must have \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)
lovingly dominant
capt. john price
tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)
a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3
john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.
but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.
most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.
and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.
the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.
"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.
you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.
"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.
he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.
he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.
you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.
"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"
you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.
he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.
a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.
"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.
he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.
the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.
"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"
you nodded.
he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."
you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.
course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."
you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."
price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.
heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.
"ya alright?"
you nodded and swallowed.
price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."
you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.
price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.
you whined, "please, sir."
"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.
you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.
he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.
you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.
he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.
you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.
"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.
you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"
"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."
his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."
and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.
"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.
but price was just that good.
the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.
he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.
when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.
"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."
you swallowed, "play... date?"
price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.
you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3
This right here is so adorable \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/
My Babies
summary: your babygirl wakes up, and you and Abby share an intimate moment
cw: mom!abby x mom!reader, breastfeeding, one (1) kiss, fluff
You wake up to the piercing wails of your baby girl ringing through the bedroom you and Abby shared. Abby immediately shot up which scares the shit out of you, sitting up onto your hands. “Fucking hell,” Abby says in her graveling morning voice, stumbling out of bed as she slips on her worn-out house slippers. You watch as she drags her feet out of your bedroom, situating yourself against the headboard. Reaching for your phone on the bedside table, the screen nearly blinds you, the bold “4:58 AM” mocking you as you wish to sink back into the delicious warmth you and Abby shared. Abby slips back into the bedroom, her hand patting the small of the baby's back. A little smile creeps on your lips as you hear your baby girl whine and coo as Abby joins you.
“C'mere my baby,” you say through a pout, dragging the last syllable and making grabby hands towards the two. Your baby, just as excited to see, jumping in Abby’s arms.
“Easy,” Abby says, handing you your baby, watching as she clamors into your lap, pawing at your (Abby’s) sleep shirt. Abby puts on her reading glasses, perched on the bridge of her nose as she grabs her phone, scrolling through the messages sent during the night. She puts her phone down before she slips under the covers, only her head poking out facing you and your baby girl. You make yourself comfortable, lowering your shirt so your right breast is freed. Eager is your little one, almost biting your nipple as she latches onto the bud. You wince, and an uncomfortable look washes over your face.
“You okay?” Abby asks, caressing the velvety head of the baby. Nodding, you look down and smile. Although you are ready to be done with breastfeeding, you will miss these sweet moments. Wake up so early that Abby doesn't even open her eyes as she heads to the nursery, and joins back with your squishy baby that you will happily feed her first meal of the day -caressing the baby’s face and watching as she suckles onto your nipple. “She's such a lil shit, yeah?” Abby shifts, face to face with the baby. Your baby girl smiles around your nipple, milk dribbling out the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, you are! My cute lil shit,” she attacks the baby with kisses that earn her little giggles. She wiggles around in your arms as Abby kisses her, audible smooches from your love below.
“Abby! She needs to eat,” you laugh as you push Abby's face away, guiding your little one back to your nipple which she happily accepts. Abby stays by the two of you, head on your shoulder as she watches. Your little one’s hands creep their way up to Abby’s face, grabbing onto her nose, cheek, and anything she can touch, and Abby lets her.
Smiling the two of you, the serenity of it all creates the comfortable silence of the early mornings of October seeping through the windows, orange and yellow illuminating the room you were in. You love every second of this and Abby agrees by catching your lips in a gentle kiss. And you three stay like this for a while, savoring the quiet and the gentle closeness, as the day unfolds around you, still and perfect.
a/n: I wanted to get this out sooner than expected, but midterms kicked my ass, so enjoy this as I finished this during my ovulatory phase :)
⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ So beautiful I want to have his chunky babies ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
A Different Kind of Love
Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader
Summary: Life as parents in Gotham isn’t easy, especially when one of you is the infamous Red Hood and the other is trying to keep things together at home. But when it’s just the three of you—your partner, your child, and yourself—the chaos of Gotham can feel a little less daunting. Jason Todd never thought he’d be a father, but with you by his side, he’s learning what it means to love unconditionally.
Warnings:
Parenthood and family fluff
Mild violence (Gotham-style crime-fighting, no explicit content)
Emotional moments
Mentions of Gotham’s dangerous environment
Gotham had a way of testing you, and Jason Todd knew that better than anyone. He’d faced the city’s worst criminals, had lived through death and resurrection, and still nothing had ever made him feel as vulnerable as the day he held his child for the first time.
It had been months since your daughter was born, and in that time, Jason had learned how to protect her just as fiercely as he protected you. But there was something else something softer and more terrifying than any criminal he’d faced: the overwhelming love he felt every time he saw her smile, every time she reached for him with her tiny hands.
He had never been good at emotions. His childhood was a wreck, and he’d never had the luxury of being part of a “normal” family. But with you, everything had changed. The little moments he shared with you and your daughter those were the things that made him believe there could be more to life than just surviving.
The sound of soft giggles drifted from the nursery, and Jason’s lips twitched upward as he adjusted his helmet, finishing up the last of his nightly routine. He knew he should’ve been out on patrol, but tonight, he had made a promise to stay home. Gotham would survive for a few hours without Red Hood especially when it meant he could be with you and the little one.
The door to the nursery creaked open, and there you were, standing in the doorway with your daughter in your arms. Her big eyes shone in the dim light, and when she saw Jason, her little face lit up in a grin.
"Hey, kiddo," Jason said, his voice unusually soft as he knelt down in front of her crib, taking in the sight of her tiny hands reaching toward him.
You watched from the doorway, smiling at the scene. Jason, the fierce vigilante who struck fear into the hearts of Gotham’s criminals, was completely undone by his little girl.
"I think she’s ready for her bedtime story," you said, a playful hint in your voice. "But maybe she wants her dad to read it tonight."
Jason raised an eyebrow, glancing up at you. "She’ll probably fall asleep halfway through, but you know what? I’ll take that as a challenge."
You laughed, and Jason gave you one of those rare, genuine smiles—one that he reserved only for you. He reached out for your daughter, taking her gently from your arms. His protective instincts kicked in as he cradled her against his chest, his strong arms instinctively holding her close, his fingers brushing over her tiny head with the utmost care.
"Alright, little one," Jason murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Let’s see if your old man can do this."
You leaned against the doorframe, watching as Jason settled down in the rocking chair, his daughter resting comfortably against his chest. For all the chaos in his life, for all the times he’d been pushed to the edge of his humanity, moments like these made him feel like he finally had something to fight for something to protect.
Jason cleared his throat, grabbing the book from the small shelf beside the chair. You’d been reading bedtime stories to your daughter for months, but tonight, Jason was in charge.
"So, uh… This one’s called The Brave Little Knight," Jason began, glancing at you for reassurance. "Don’t expect too much, kid. I’m not exactly a storybook kind of guy."
You smiled softly at his self-deprecating tone. Jason had never been good at this type of thing being soft, being gentle but for you and your daughter, he was trying. And that made your heart swell more than you could put into words.
As Jason read, his voice growing more confident with each sentence, your daughter’s eyes fluttered as she fought to stay awake. She was still young enough that the world was mostly about the comfort of your voices, the softness of your touch. But even now, Jason could see the spark of her growing personality in the way she tilted her head toward him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt like she was already trying to keep him close.
"You know," Jason said, his voice quieter now, his gaze softening as he looked down at the baby in his arms, "I never thought I’d be here, doing this."
You leaned against the doorframe, heart in your throat. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated for a moment, his fingers gently brushing your daughter’s cheek as he kept reading. "I wasn’t supposed to be anyone’s father. After everything… after the way I grew up… I never thought I’d be able to be the kind of dad she needs."
You stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look at you, but you could feel the weight of his words.
"You’re exactly the kind of dad she needs, Jason," you said softly. "You might not have had the best role models, but you’re doing everything you can to be better for her. And that’s all she needs. All we need."
Jason swallowed hard, looking down at your daughter as she began to drift off in his arms. "I just… I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want her to go through the same things I did."
"You won’t," you assured him, your voice steady. "We’re in this together. And no matter what happens, she’ll always know she’s loved. That’s more than we had, right?"
Jason finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was so raw it took your breath away. "Yeah," he whispered. "You’re right."
He shifted in the chair, adjusting your daughter in his arms as she began to fall into a peaceful sleep. He kissed the top of her head and then looked back at you, his gaze softer than you’d ever seen it.
"Thank you," he murmured. "For giving me this. For giving us this."
You smiled and moved closer, brushing a hand through his hair. "I didn’t do it alone, Jason. You’re a great father. And she’s lucky to have you."
Jason nodded, his lips quirking into a small, almost hesitant smile. "I’m lucky to have you."
And in that moment, with the quiet hum of the night surrounding you, the chaos of Gotham seemed miles away. In that small, safe space, everything felt right. Just the three of you, holding onto each other as a family.
Jason Todd, Red Hood and protector of Gotham, was learning that love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. And for him, that love was right here small, fragile, but unbreakable.
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Hey I'm Blossom and I’m 18(surprise surprise) and I love to be here in my free time but I’m just a big simp ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡
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