Apple saysss.... Aang with a smaller!fem!reader ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
WC: 696
Everyone could tell Aang is a big guy. He'd grown a lot since the war. Despite all the things that went down, he's still someone who knew how to care for himself. He is the avatar, after all; how can he balance the world if he couldn't even balance himself?
Before the both of you even considered dating, he didn't even blink at the size difference between the two of you. The penny finally dropped when he often notices you seemingly clinging to him for warmth, protection, and attachment.
So, it just clicked. It wasn't long before he realized how easy it was to protect you. He's committed to the job.
Sometimes, you'll look for him, curiously glancing upward thoughtfully. He'll chuckle, knowing you're thinking that the world in his perspective is quite different from yours.
No, you're not jealous.
You absolutely are.
But at the same time when he notices that he could easily lose you in a crowd without even trying, so he starts walking a fraction slower just to let you catch up on him and hold his hand? Oh, it sweeps you off your feet all over again.
He's the type of guy to pick you up instinctively. For instance, getting off Appa — he feels like he'll be able to breathe more easily if he personally carried you down, no matter how much you tell him that you'll be good even without his help. He just kisses you, and eventually, you get used to it.
He always bends a little when you want to talk to him while the two of you are standing because being completely vertical suddenly feels like he's talking from far away. He especially finds it incredibly endearing when you unconsciously cling to his arm while rambling on.
Though, when he's feeling a little funny, he stands too close while explaining something, and you have to unexpectedly tilt your head up more. You squint your eyes, swearing you notice what he's up to but choosing not to step back.
You try to look intimidated, but at his angle, he says: “You look just like a fussing bunny.” He'll simply smile at you, fighting the urge to squish your cheeks. You're mildly offended.
Not entirely sure, but since he's an airbender, I feel like he can perceive wind gusts instantly. When that happens, he doesn't even think too much of it, he just steps forward to block it from you to ensure your comfort.
Speaking of comfort, when you hide behind his body like he's a pillar because you're afraid to be spotted by people you have no interest in approaching, he swoons. He's so physically gentle with you, so to be chosen as your safety point would make him feel intimate in a quiet way.
He'll unconsciously position himself somewhere near you, so when you want to seek refuge in his strength, he's just one step away. And when you do, he subtly adjusts his position, so you can have more room behind him (even if technically you don't need much space, he's big enough already).
He's a brawny man. It gets to a point where you get tired, he picks you up, and the conversation continues normally. It's practical care for him.
I think the thought of you being smaller than him sparks softness rather than dominance. He equates strength with responsibility and care, not control.
Never control. The last thing he'll ever want is to make you feel like he owns you just because he's taller and buff.
There are also times where it surprises him how it feels so natural for you to hold him despite the many years of established life together. Like you'll ask him to come to the bed with you, you on his chest as he responds to your questions. He stops, looking down at you, suddenly realizing how nice it feels to make the world feel less overwhelming for you.
To him, what the height difference represents matters far more to him than the actual difference itself. That someone as lovely as you trusts him for security. And for someone like him, he'd treasure it, never to take it lightly.
Auahahdjfkfkfknd my 5'0 ass doing this for myself heuehehehejehehejekekkekeje i heard he's like 191-192 cm? Air nomads grow a LOT. pls lemme know what you think!!
summary: aang comes home after a bad council meeting. you help him relieve that stress.
"You're in a bad mood," is what you're planning to say when Aang comes home because he is in a bad mood. It's all over his face—his usual sunny disposition has been replaced with a bone-deep tiredness and frustration. A side of him that only appears when his Avatar duties weigh heavily on his shoulders, reminding him that humans can be relentlessly unreasonable.
You want to comfort him; that's your immediate reaction to whenever Aang's feeling anything other than happy. You want to draw him into your arms and hold your ridiculously large husband until he's at ease once more. In fact, you're about to pull him in from the doorway to do just that but Aang takes you by surprise.
His lips slam onto yours, causing you to squeak as he leads you back into the entryway. You faintly hear the door being kicked shut and feel your back hitting the wall, knocking a bit of air from your lungs. Your mouth opens in a gasp, Aang taking the opportunity to lick into it and trace the rows of your teeth with his tongue. The sensation has you shivering, a whimper sounding from your throat as Aang kisses you hard—unforgiving.
You're panting when Aang frees your mouth and begins a journey down your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin to bring forth bruising marks. His hands grip at your hips, squeezing once before he's lifting up the skirts of your dress. He feels the plush of your thighs, itching up towards where it's warmest and your hips jolt at the brush of his knuckles against your covered clit.
"Aang," you gasp, eyes closing tightly as pleasure carves down your spine. "Aa—oh." Your legs part for his hand, back arching when his large palm cups your cunt that steadily grows slick. "Is, ah, everything okay?"
Aang hums, the vibration a spark against your sensitive skin. "Council meeting went badly," he murmurs, licking a line down your neck. "Stupid council elders think they know better but they don't." The palm he has over your cunt squeezes and you bite your bottom lip to suppress a mewl. "Was so angry that I almost—" He stops himself and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I need you. Please, let me have you."
The desperation seeps through, pierces through the frustrations that drove him home and into your waiting arms. The frustrations that immediately made him think of you because he's always said you're his calming balm. That you soothe his soul whenever it becomes too chaotic and overwhelmed, to the point that meditation can't help. He wants you, needs you and you're never one to reject your darling husband anything. Especially if it's yourself.
"You can have me," you tell him softly, allowing him to have you openly, wholly. "You always have me."
A deep groan sounds from Aang's chest, his body bent down so his head is on the swell of your breasts. He breathes in deeply, nods once before his hands are coming to your thighs. You yelp when he lifts you up but wrap your legs around his waist, falling into his kiss that makes you breathless.
With his tongue in your mouth, one of his hands push down his trousers and undergarments to free his aching cock. Then he's pushing the thin strip of your underwear to the side to access your dripping cunt, just enough to sink his way into your warmth.
You tremble at the first press of his tip, eyes fluttering when he begins to push in. He stretches you wide, he always does, but you never get used to the feeling. The heavy weight that has your toes curling, cunt pulsing and thighs tensing in a pleasure that's core deep.
Aang pants quietly, hiding in the crook of your neck as he continues to sink in until his hips are flush against the curve of your ass. He's so deep it shakes you, has you whining when he shifts his hips and the large vein on his cock rubs sweetly against that spot. Your vision blurs slightly, chest heaving and you desperately want him to move because he's so deep and it feels so good.
"Ca–can I?" Aang chokes out, the sweet clench of your cunt quickly becoming his undoing. You nod eagerly, your hands cradling the back of his head as Aang shudders.
"You can," You say shakily, desperately. "Please—"
Aang drives into you sharply, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and you cry out, back arching. He continues to thrust into you, his pace mean as his hips punch moans out of your throat. He fucks you swiftly, harshly, like he's trying to draw something sweet out of you—no, like he's trying to bury himself inside of you and it renders you incapable of higher thought.
Depraved noises echo throughout the entryway, a symphony of filth that would have you ashamed if it didn't feel so good. Aang pushes you further into the wall, his hands grasping your hips to angle them upwards so he can sink in somehow deeper and—
"Oh!" You moan, eyes rolling back because it's like he's in your throat. "It—you're too—ah!"
"Spirits, I know," Aang groans, having leaned back a little so he can take you in. His grey eyes completely dark from his arousal and his gaze soul deep and piercing. It makes you feel wonderfully exposed, all your nerves bared for his addicting touch. "You're perfect, ngh, just what I needed, what I always need—"
It could be called romantic, how that confession is what ends you. What releases the tight coil in your lower stomach and drags your orgasm out with a loud cry that hits. It rips through you, has you pushing against Aang because he doesn't stop fucking you as he knows you love it when it's drawn out. Until you're sobbing, shaking violently in his arms as another crest slams into you mercilessly.
Your end always brings about his, has him pulsing deep within you as he paints your walls white. It shatters him into pieces, his own low cry a tempting sound against your ear that has you milking his cock for everything it has. He shudders against you, his fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips—bruises that you'll trace when they appear tomorrow morning.
Heavy breathing fills the air, both of you pulling in air as pleasure still thrums through your bodies. Aang leans into you, finding his home in your neck as your arms wrap around him weakly, greedily taking in the mere feel of him.
Then softly, you ask:
"Feeling better?"
Aang nods, breathing in deep the scent of you, finally at ease.
jfhdhfjf i just can’t stop thinking about him fucking the newest front of house who’s just really good at her job and he appreciates how easy she is for him when everything else is hard especially when she lets him fuck her when he needs to blow off steam SORRYEYY ?????
Carmy doesn’t know when it happened.
Doesn’t know when it started, but he’s starting to think it’ll never stop. You’re just so…helpful. Good at the till, good with the customers, good at the fancy new coffee machine Carmy had bought (just for you) and good at expediting, when shit got busy, and he needed another hand. Good, good, good, good – fucking brilliant, if you ask Carmy, wasted on a place like The Beef, or The Bear, or the shit hole his brother left him, that he’s trying to make good. Good, good, good. Good at other things, too, like keeping quiet when you’re in his office and he’s fucking you from behind. Or, getting loud when you’d managed to get to his apartment, and he’s saying how thankful he is.
He’s spilling the truth into your mouth when you gasp his name, hitching your legs up higher so he can hit that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll back – makes you go quiet. Until you’re sobbing out how thankful you are. Gripping his curls, nose pushed against his, I like making things easier for you, Carmy. You whisper as you grind into him, I like being good for you. That’s how it starts – this whole good thing.
“Good,” he’d comment when you finished a particularly hard lunch rush. “You did good,” and he’d see it. See the way your face relaxed and feel how he’d want to say it again.
He can’t stop saying it. Can’t stop when it’s after closing and everyone’s gone home. When he’s got you against the door to his office, mouth pushed into your ear, and he’s taking his time, making his strokes deep and steady as he says, so good for me. Such a good fucking girl. I’m not letting you leave this goddamn restaurant – and he kisses you between words, between grunts and groans – not letting you leave my goddamn sight.
an. well. what can i say. white boy of the month :/ porn without plot :/ an absolute thirst post of epic proportions :/ the bear is tv at it’s finest and while this is literally filth, i cradle the show like a baby bird and give it sweet kisses. i dont know if anyone is going to read, but if you do, pls comment and reblog if u liked<3 (@ohcapfics for my latest fic updates)
synopsis. you didn’t think he’d enjoy it that much. didn’t think he’d want more, too.
warnings. 18+ ONLY. you copy my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving oral and fingering, semi public sex, hair pulling, spit as lube and mentions of panic attacks.
synopsis. simon comes home. he's too tired to fuck you right. eventually, he manages to find the energy.
warnings. 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving penetration, blonde simon lol, somnophilia, dry humping, pussy smacking, and crying during sex. i am not responsible for your media consumption.
an. :) life sucked so i found a new animated character to obsess over. please comment & reblog if u enjoyed !
When Simon comes back, he’s dog-tired.
As soon as his feet touch the welcome mat of your quaint little apartment, he feels all of his muscles relax – as if they’re unpinning themselves from his bones – and he has to give himself a pep talk to muster the energy to drag his hand up to ring the bell.
But he doesn’t have to, because you’re ripping the door open – shining like the sun – and pulling him into your body, rendering all 6,4 ft and 240 pounds of the super soldier to complete mush.
For five minutes, you don’t speak. Just hold him, as you gently rub the corner of his jaw, and brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He clutches you to him.
His fat, paw-like hands hold your upper back, and you hold him with the same vigour. His body – wrapped in his black compression shirt and army pants – is rock solid.
It’s a weaving of muscles that have been tensed for the last two months. It’s going to take a minute for them all to soften, but like he always does when he’s been away, Simon lets out a deep and resolute sigh.
The breath warms your neck, causing it to tingle, and you grasp him tighter, your body waking up.
It’s been a long two months.
He manages to push your intertwined bodies through the doorway, using his boot to kick the door shut. His house smells like home -- funny how you can’t smell it until you’ve been gone a while.
Vanilla and a citrus fruit, mixed with the savoury scent of his favourite meal. He hums again, and you scratch the back of his head, sending shivers down his locked spine.
He knows the route to your bedroom like the back of his hand, and he maneuvers the pair of you inside.
The curtains are closed and the bed is made. You know him. You know him so well.
You let him push you back onto the bed – a blur of familiar limbs and hair – and he settles lower, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you drag your legs up and cross them over the curve of his ass.
You’re all warm and soft and pliable. Dressed in a pair of simple cotton shorts and a vest top, he wants to grab fistfuls of you and remind himself of how you feel in his palms. Wants to drag his lips over your skin, bully his way between your legs and remind himself of how you taste.
Fuck, he wants you, in a carnal, almost primal sort of way, and you the same. He can smell it. A sweet but sweaty longing that melts from you and causes his senses to wake.
But he’s so God damn tired.
You know. Know this routine. Know that he has to settle back in.
In the meantime, you’ll just have to wait.
You fiddle with his hair. “There’s dinner if you want it,” you whisper into the dark bedroom, looping the strands between your fingers, committing the soft feel to memory.
Simon shuffles just an inch on top of you, but still, the slight movement of his clothes and hard, clenched body against yours makes you take your bottom lip between your teeth.
It’ll be chewed raw by the time he has enough energy to take you.
He grunts something into your skin, and after a second, you gather it’s, tired.
His scent clouds you.
When Simon comes back, he always smells the same.
The soap at the barracks is pine scented – shampoo a strict lemon.
But there’s always a leftover grit to him. A hidden layer the soap can’t clean off, and it makes you delirious. Makes you flex your ass up – just an inch, a sweet, gentle inch that has you feeling the hard lines of his thighs and the metal of his zipper, and Simon’s breathing hitches.
You freeze. With your hips pushed tight against his, you stare at the ceiling, hoping that your worn-out soldier hasn’t felt you move.
Simon stays quiet. His breathing settles. You go to apologise, but Simon doesn’t grumble or make a sly comment. Listening closer to his breathing, you gather that he’s asleep.
Jesus, you think, that’s a record. Barely in the door and he’s asleep, he must be burnt out. Figuring that you won’t be able to crawl from under his weight, you decide it’s your bedtime too.
Sleep comes fast.
Hours later, you blearily blink awake. Not much has changed – the room is still dark, Simon is still heavy on top of you, yet now, you’re sticking to him with sweat.
He’s usually a human furnace, but this is different.
Your skin prickles, vibrating at a frequency that has nothing to do with heat. No, this is…you feel a pulsating between your thighs, and wiggle, feeling your slick coating your underwear.
Fuck, why are you so wet? You clench, and the resulting ache forces you to hiss and push your head back against the pillows. What did you dream about? Thinking back, you come up short. Then why--
Simon shuffles on top of you. It’s a slight movement, but it continues, and all at once, your heart clenches.
Holy fuck, he’s—
“Simon?” you whisper, and your boyfriend whines into your neck.
“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, the words wet and desperate. The puzzle pieces lock into place.
He knocks his hips into your crotch once more, and you gasp, clenching, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Simon’s apology comes out again, except this time, it’s christened with a “s-shit – fuck.”
Blinking at the ceiling, you huff and try and glance down, and in the dark, you just about manage to see the outline of his burly body grinding into yours.
You take stock of the situation.
Feel his fat palm around your hip, and squinting, see that he’s got your shorts pulled down around your thighs, and has the band of your underwear looped around his fingers.
Jesus Christ. You fall back into the pillows. “How long have you?” you whisper.
“Five – fuck – minutes,” Simon grunts, continuing to roll his thick hips against you. His bulge knocks the edge of your throbbing clit, causing you to gasp again. There’s been no build-up to your want, it’s just there, humming electric, and spread tight over your thighs.
Simon meshes his wet mouth against your chest. He’s tugged your vest top down, too, and his lips close around the skin of your breast. Jesus. He was undressing you as you slept.
“Thought about fuckin’ you, but couldn’t get my pants down, so – shit -- tired. Jus’ woke up and you were just so fuckin’ soft. And wet, Christ, felt you through my trousers.”
Your whole body goes numb.
“You were gonna fuck me as I slept?” you whisper, belly flipping.
You’d told him – ages ago – that he could, but he hasn’t been here.
You’d forgotten.
The image of him pulling your underwear down as you slept streaks across your mind. Imagine waking up with him inside of you, so full and wet and just on the precipice of coming.
Simon grunts. He tugs at the band of your underwear, “I’ll fuck you right, at some point. Just –”
In your delirious state, you manage to finish his sentence, “Tired, I know – I know baby.”
You kiss the crown of his head and whimper into his hair. “Just use me until you’re ready.”
Simon groans out deep and loud. It rumbles against your chest. Echoes through your heart, and you’re so turned on that you begin fidgeting.
You try and squirm away from the stifling ache of your pussy, but Simon’s built like a brick shithouse, so you can’t run from it, just gotta take it and take it and take it, until you can’t anymore, and you break.
You’re so fucked that you don’t even announce that you’re coming, but Simon knows, shit, and as your pussy clenches up tight, he growls low and hard, mumbling, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, until his movements go sloppy, and his breathing goes laboured, and he’s coming into his pants and mewling your name.
When he finally does manage to get inside of you, he doesn’t last long. No, he pushes all the way to the hilt, and you tighten up.
“Stay” you gasp, clenching your pussy around his shaft, and Simon grunts deep and long into your throat.
“S-Stay there,” you moan, then, in case he didn’t hear you, “Stay,” you whisper, and push the ball of your palm into his thick, scarred shoulder.
You were teetering on a knives edge.
You’ve come once since Simon was home, and your second orgasm of his return was right there.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Simon groans into the shallow of your throat, “Did we do enough prep?”
“Yes,” you immediately whisper, not wanting him to pull out.
He’s thick and pulsing inside of you, hard and heavy on top, and God, he kisses at your throat — soft and gentle. You try to swallow down the ball that has swelled in your throat, but tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill.
No no no no, you think. Not now. Not now not now. You try to stifle the tears, but you unconsciously sniff, and despite Simon being perfectly still, he still manages to freeze.
“Sweetheart?”
You inhale, “Yeah?”
Simon looks up; and seeing tears on your cheeks, his face falls, “Did I hurt you?”
You furiously wipe the tears away, shaking your head.
“M’just overwhelmed,” you whisper, and he presses his forehead against yours, going to kiss you, but the movement causes his hips to flex against you, nudging his cock, and you whine, immediately gripping onto the back of his dirty blonde locks.
Simon drops his face into your chest and lets out a pained rasp, “Tightening around me, kid.”
You unclench, “m’sorry.”
“Gonna come quick.”
“S’okay.”
“I’ll fuck you right, just gotta…” he trails off and grabs fist fulls of your hips.
“Fuck,” he huffs wistfully, “This pussy. Missed this fucking pussy.”
You go dizzy with need. Shake your head, and bend to kiss him, tasting his wet and swollen lips.
Gently, you knock your hips up into his, and when he lets out a surprised grumble, you flex your hips higher, trying to stuff his cock deeper, further – till you can see it pressing into your belly.
Catching onto your plan, Simon grunts and pushes your hips with his fat palms, pinning your ass to the mattress.
“Stop,” he orders, and the demand goes straight to your cunt. Jesus. He hasn’t been very dominant since his return, and that little instruction has you chomping on the bit.
“Want you, Si.”
“One stroke and I’ll be fucked.”
“Just gotta practice.”
He chokes on a laugh, muttering, “Practice.”
You try another tactic. Clench around his cock and pout, “Want you to come inside me.”
“Fuck,” Simon cuts. You curl your legs back his back and push your foot into the dense muscle of his ass, at the same time rocking your hips up. Simon lets you. Let’s you try and fuck yourself on his cock.
With wet lips, you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering his name.
“Gonna fill me up, Si?”
“Fuckin’ filthy, you know that?”
Simon pulls back, and your heart stutters.
You think he’s going to pull out, until he uses your hips to pull you tight against his cock -- your ass nearly sitting on his thighs. His thick, scarred chest is puffed up.
Cheeks red, and he’s got that animal glint in his pretty eyes.
It knocks you for six.
“Where you want it?” he asks, and you’re confused, until he presses the heel of his palm into the middle of your tummy.
“Shoot my load here, huh?”
Your body goes numb. Eyes white out. It happens so suddenly that it scares you, and you’re a mixture of turned on and frightened, but the fear turns you on even more.
All you can do is blearily look up at him as he slides his paw to the other side of your tummy, “or shoot it here. Fuck it so deep that you can taste it.”
He pretends to think about it. Even hums, before he drags his palm up and stuffs his thumb into your mouth. “Or just directly here, huh?”
He snarls a smile, “know you like it when your mouth is full.”
You suck at his thumb, and tighten your cunt around his cock, causing his mouth to open, and eyes to flutter, and just like that, you’ve won.
He comes in record time.
But Simon keeps his promises.
A couple of days later – on the seventh day he’s back -- he fucks you so good, that when you wake up the next morning, you get shy just thinking about it.
Lay in bed, staring at the ceiling – your boyfriend fast asleep on your chest -- remembering the debauchery you’d gotten up to the night before.
The pair of you are a little tipsy, drunk on beer and wine, but all it’s done is heighten your senses, and made you fully aware of your desires, so much so, that they pulsate behind your eyelids like a migraine.
Simons got you face down, ass up, and as he pushes you face first into the mattress, he presses his thumb against the tight, fluttering hole of your pussy.
“Gonna let me inside, baby?”
You sink into your thighs and spread yourself wider for him, humming into your crossed arms. Simon watches your pussy spread further, and he can’t help himself, he has to slide his thumb deeper.
He presses, just barely pushing the tip of his thumb into your wet hole, and you gasp, trying to chase the feeling by inching back against his fat palm.
He laughs at you.
“Look at your pussy sucking my thumb in, baby. Wish you could see what I’m seeing. So fuckin’ sexy.”
You hum, the words making you wetter – dripping over his thumb.
“Been dreaming of fucking you right, gonna take you whenever I want.”
“Okay,” you whisper, so delirious that you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. Simon raises a brow,
“Yeah?” he asks, tone breathless.
Thought he’d get some pushback on that one, but for a second, he forgot that you said the nastiest shit with his dick inside of you.
You nod into your crossed arms, and Simon laughs again, “Free use pussy,” he sounds, then lightly smacks your sodden folds, causing you to flinch, bucking forward.
“Oh fuck,” you choke, eyes rolling back. Heat ricochets through your crotch and swamps your belly, before settling back in your aching pussy. Once you manage to collect yourself – and it takes a second -- you huff.
“Bein’ mean.”
Simon snorts, grabs your hips, then rams the underside of his cock against your pussy, grinning so big that his scars stretch, “don’t know the half of it, babe.”
You sob, real tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Your desire is visceral, enough for you to taste it on your tongue. Simon pulls back, and your slick coats the length of his dick, earning yourself another light smack to your cunt.
“Soakin’ me,” he grunts, and you sob into the sheets.
“Please,” you whisper, then, please please please, and Simon hears your breathing hitch.
This time, instead of checking up on you, he chuckles, “Crying again, baby?”
You sniff and wipe your eyes on your wrist, face heating.
“No,” you mumble, and Simon sighs.
He reads you like a book. Always has. Always will.
“Lying to me,” he grumbles, then he steers the uncut head of his cock between your folds, whispering, “Lie to me again, and I’ll give you something to cry about,” before bottoming out in one thrust.
Come sleep with mommy, fit yourself in my arms. That's right, princess. Now spread your legs so mommy can play with your pussy a little bit, I promise you'll sleep better with my fingers inside you.
what if you let mommy play with both of your holes at the same time, hm? think about it, little girl, it will be so much better to have one cock buried in your ass and another in your little pussy.
........ "kisses mama, peaseeeeee" little one makes grabby hands for mama "and where do you want the kisses babygirl?" Little one points at her forehead, nose and paci. Mama gently holds babygirls face in her hands and places a soft kiss on her forehead, nose and paci like babygirl asked for....... 🎀
🎀 Little one opened the front door with a sigh, she dropped her bag on floor and kicked to the side. Work had been hard, she had a very short shift but it hadn't been a nice one.
She kicked her shoes off and ran to her mama's bedroom where she had left her blankie only a few hours earlier. Once in her mama's bedroom she picked her blankie up snuggling it close, it smelled like her mama and she loved that, mama's scent always made her feel safe and loved.
Her mama's scent made her smile for a second but now she was curled up on her mama's bed, trying very hard not to cry, work had sucked and she just wanted her mama, but her mama was still at work, she picked her phone up, mama always tells her that if she needs her all she has to do is call, so that kept going through her mind, but she didn't want to bother her mama while at work, but again mama always said she wasn't a bother. Babygirl takes a deep breath a calls her mama.
"Hey baby" hearing her mama's soft voice was enough to make little one whimper "sweetheart? What's the matter?" Little one shook her head, even though mama couldn't see her she knew that babygirl had just done that "baby, can you use your words and tell mama what's wrong?" Little one whimpered again "i sorry mama" babygirl was upset and all she wanted was her mama "there's no need for sorries sweetheart, do you think you can do mama a big favourite?" Little one nodded
"yes mama" babygirl hugged her blankie close "can you get all snuggly in mama's bed?" Babygirl smiled, she could definitely do that "I do that mama" mama started to gather her things "that's my good girl, mama will be home in ten minutes" and as promised 10 minutes later mama was walking through the door, she ignored the shoes and bag that little one had kicked to the side and quickly made her way to her bedroom where she found babygirl curled up under the covers.
Mama carefully climbed into the bed and as soon as babygirl felt her mama she rolled over and buried her face into mama's chest. "Mama's here babygirl" little one sniffled and mama gently rubbed her back "shsh mama's right here baby" little one looked up at mama with teary yes and mama placed a soft kiss on her baby's lips "mama" mama gave little one a warm smile "that's right baby" little one was upset about her morning at work and now feeling guilty that her mama left work early for her "can you tell mama what has got you so sad sweetheart?"
Little one let's out a sigh "work was bad" mama held little one close "oh my poor baby" mama kissed babygirl's head "i sorry mama" mama shakes her head and gently pats her baby's bottom "there's nothing to be sorry for, sweet girl" with her finger little one traces mama's tattoo, for some reason that always calmed her down "but mama left work because I sad" mama nodded "yes I did, I will do it every time you need me to sweetheart, mama is always one call away, always"
little one looked up into her mama's eyes and she knew mama meant every word "I love you mama" mama playfully boops her baby's nose "i love you more, babygirl" little one wiggled her nose with a giggle "Mama better get you into your nappy before you pee on my bed uh?" Mama teases little one while patting her bottom "mamaaaaaa" little one giggles and quickly hides her now blushy face 🎀
Gabby Baby @gabrielpizzaandmilk - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
