Summary: He was the perfect nurse the whole time you were sick. But now that you’re healed, you want your nasty man back.
cw: smut. sfw caregiver to nsfw caregiver.
It had been five months since the nasty stomach bug that left you completely reliant on your husband.
For five months, he was everything to you and more.
He did your laundry, washed your hair, tenderly clipped and buffed your nails.
The first day he laid out your skincare products and followed your exact routine, you found yourself crying happy tears.
But bath time was always the best.
He would run your bath, making sure the water was the perfect temperature. Then he’d undress you, careful to avoid any movement that might hurt.
Lifting you as if you were porcelain, he’d lower you gently into the water.
The way his hands moved across your skin brought tears to your eyes.
His touch was reverent, every stroke a vow of devotion. He washed you slowly, thoroughly, until you were ready to be wrapped up and tucked back in bed.
For months, his focus was only you. Never touching you sexually. Never asking for anything.
He cooked your meals. He fed you. He oiled your hair. He served you like a dutiful priest and you were his goddess.
But now, fully healed, you were still being treated like glass.
And it was beginning to frustrate you. Especially the part where he still refused to make love to you.
Being cared for like a doll was beautiful when you were weak. But now it made you feel trapped.
He was lying beside you, propped against the headboard with a book, when you turned wide, pleading eyes on him.
Your hand slid under the sheet to rest on his thigh. At first, your touch was slow, innocent. Then it crept higher, kneading, squeezing, until he finally turned glazed eyes on you.
The look in them made you clench so hard you gasped aloud.
He blinked rapidly, the raw lust in his eyes quickly replaced by concern.
He dropped his book. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head.
His brow furrowed as his gaze swept over your scantily clad body, his worry refusing to ease.
“What’s wrong?”
“I want you.” You meant for it to sound seductive, but it broke out in a sob.
His eyes softened, a small smile replacing his frown.
“I want you too, baby.” He leaned down, brushing your lips with a chaste kiss. When you tried to pull him deeper, he chuckled and pulled back. “But you’re not strong enough.”
You whined in frustration, crossing and uncrossing your thighs as the ache inside you grew.
Fisting his shirt, you tugged him down, crashing your mouth against his in a desperate attempt to show him your need.
For a moment, he kissed you back, a groan vibrating into your lips—before he tore himself away.
“Please,” you whispered, cradling his head between your hands. “It’s been too long.”
He cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek in soft, loving passes.
You turned into his palm and kissed it.
He pressed a kiss to your temple, then slid his hand down to circle your throat… and squeezed lightly.
The animalistic groan that ripped from you had him chuckling against your ear.
That sound. That laugh. The one that promised, I’m going to take care of you.
His hand found your breasts, kneading one, then the other, rolling your nipples between his fingers before moving lower.
When his hand slipped into your pajama shorts, you leaned back and spread your legs, offering yourself to him like a love-worn guitar he knew by heart.
The first touch was slow, careful. He traced your folds as though relearning you. Five months apart had been an eternity.
When his finger brushed your nub, both of you groaned, eyes locked as he began to work his magic between your legs.
He pulled his hand away, and your eyes followed, glued to it as he slipped two fingers into his mouth and sucked.
His eyes fluttered shut, a low moan vibrating in his chest. More fluid leaked from you.
When his fingers returned, your folds yielded, parting for him as he slid inside.
Slow, torturous thrusts.
His lips found a nipple while his other hand roamed over your belly as it traveled down south.
You clenched around his pumping fingers in anticipation... then his thumb pressed against your aching clit.
The sounds lodged in your throat.
Your hips jerked, trying to ride his hand, desperate for more friction, for release.
He lifted his head, your nipple slipping from his mouth with a wet pop.
He shook his head slowly. “Uh-uh. Be a good girl and stay still.”
The hand working your clit shifted, pressing firmly against your lower belly, holding you down while his thick digits stretched you from inside.
He pumped slightly faster, watching the sex-crazed expressions on your face, moving his thumb back over your clit to drive you further into insanity.
Incoherent words babbled out of you, like a woman possessed.
Your head thrashed, your toes curled, your hands clutched at everything within reach.
Then he curled his fingers inside you and beckoned you to come...
And you did.
You came hard. Spraying all over his good shirt and landing a few drops on his lips for measure.
He licked it off.
Rising, he tugged his pajama bottoms down and moved to your side, stroking the thick length in his fist.
You parted your lips eagerly, and he chuckled — low, rumbling, ending in that hiss that always made you melt.
“What part of you’re not strong enough don’t you understand?” The words rolled out in a sinful timbre.
You pouted, tilting your puppy eyes up at him.
“Can I at least watch?”
His hand worked faster. “Why do you think I’m here? You’ve got front-row seats.” He tapped his cock lightly against your forehead, making you wrinkle your nose as you leaned forward to catch his scent.
He laughed under his breath. “My nasty girl.”
You reached up instinctively, but his voice cut sharp and commanding. “Put it down.”
You dropped your hand at once, a needy whimper spilling out.
“Good,” he murmured.
He dragged his length along your cheek in slow, deliberate strokes, the silken skin tracing your face like a brand. His pumping hand slowed until the head brushed your lips.
A bead of precum smeared against them. You licked it off immediately.
He groaned, his voice raw and strained, and did it again.
You swiped the milky fluid from your lips and stuck your tongue out at him.
He pressed the swollen head against it, smearing more across the pink.
You swallowed, stuck it out again, teasing.
He was gone.
When he set himself on your tongue once more, he gave a few shallow thrusts before pulling away.
Your hands found your breasts, squeezing and rolling them, putting on a show just for him.
“Fuck it,” he growled, biting the words out. He propped your head up and swung a leg over, straddling you.
Your mouth opened wide, ready, as he guided himself between your lips. One hand caressed your cheek, the other steadied his cock.
He eased forward, ginger at first, as if afraid you’d break.
But your arms snaked around him, palms gripping the hard curve of his ass, pulling him in. You moved your head, inhaling his length.
“God-- fuck,” he croaked, voice cracking as you worked him the way only you could.
His hand left your cheek and braced against the headboard, while the other held the back of your head steady as you milked him.
It didn’t take long. He jolted, tried to pull out, but you were done with his carefulness. You kept him buried, throat tightening, swallowing down every hot spill of him until your eyes watered.
When you finally pulled off, it was with a wet pop, leaving him dazed and boneless as he collapsed to the side.
After a long breath, he tapped your thigh.
You rolled to face him.
His gaze burned even through exhaustion. “I’m fucking you all day tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
aaron_pierre1: In September 2024, my tendon completely detached from the bone. This injury required surgery. I was cast as John Stewart in October 2024. Production was set to commence February 2025. Here is a little insight into my road to recovery, which happened to align with my journey to becoming John Stewart. If nothing else, I hope this can inspire. We can't wait to share LANTERNS with you all.
Summary: As the warm night lingers on, you drunk dial an ex boyfriend, who happens to be your roommate, while he’s on assignment and now here you two are, spread out on your living room couch.
A/N I: My first (and possibly only) drabble, but this is actually x reader this time. I’m not using Y/N though. May have brought some of @dollys-world224’s idea to life 🤭🤭
Soft whimpers are heard throughout the small, luxurious apartment that sits in downtown Miami, the heat steaming up against the walls, leaving some sweat residue.
Underneath the ceiling fan blowing down coolness was you, drunk off your mind after another date that began with you being stood up, coming home and drinking a full bottle of wine before calling up someone you shouldn’t be bothering or you’ll regret it in the morning.
You keep on making incoherent sexual noises only you and the person you’re currently bouncing up and down on can hear.
Except this person was your Terrance.
Your fine ass space agent roommate who’s fat dick is poking against all of your sweet spots you can’t even reach with your own hands, fucking you like he finally getting a taste after a long wait.
Well. It was considering you and him been on and off for a couple years now, breaking up over your unsettled stance on wanting to travel with him as he did his assignments for his job while you worked yours or you moving to a different country for it, which he hated.
“What did I tell you, hm?” he asked in his deep British accent before slapping your ass, hearing your moan loudly.
“I. Should. Stop. Seeking. Out. When. I. Still. Got. You!” you cried out harshly, each word coming out as you thrust your hips down to his.
He growled before placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, hooking his arms under your legs before standing up carefully, lifting you with him.
He begins bouncing you up and down on his dick at a snappily pace, consistently hitting a sweet spot near your cervix, with you moaning his name out seductively.
“That’s right. You better say my name.” he mumbled, groaning at how quick you clench and unclench around him, missing that feeling.
You laughed quietly, but is cut off when you can feel your release approaching once again, burying your face into his neck.
“Hey!” as Terrance slapped your ass, making you look up all wide eye.
“Look at me while I’m fucking you through it.” he ordered, watching you nodded profusely as he slammed hard into you, signaling his release was coming.
“Oh my god…..” you cried out drunkenly, trying to push yourself off.
“It’s too much….you got too much dick!” you uttered, but he laughs, laying your body against the edge corner of the couch.
“You’re a big girl, you can take all of me.” he replied before speeding up his brutal strokes, watching you tremble underneath him.
“You owe me for making me leaving my assignment during work hours, knowing this.” he said, licking up your neck, which almost took you out.
You groaned loudly, feeling his hand slowly wrap around your neck, squeezing it a bit.
He was right since he was still in his polo dress shirt, but everything else? Gone, including your own clothes.
“Say you’re sorry.” he ordered, deepening his dick inside more, slowing down a bit.
“I’m sorry.” you said quietly, your release itching near.
His hand squeezed tighter, making you gasp and throw your head back, whining at how even more good this is feeling.
“Use your big girl voice. And wisely.” he said before grinding his hips into your pussy, hearing its wetness squelching loudly.
“I’m sorry for making you leave your job because of my neediness!” you cried out, almost wanting to rub your clit.
Terrance laughed darkly, kissing all over your face before lifting himself up, still pounding into you and moaning from it.
Both of you are sweaty and fighting against your nuts, not sure who’s gonna break first.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” he said in an exhausted voice, letting your neck go.
“Me too.” you uttered, twisting your nipples.
“Uh uh.” as he pushed in at a slight angle.
“You can’t cum until you say nobody, and I mean nobody, is allowed to fuck you like how I fuck you.” he said, eyeing you down.
“Terrance, please….I need to cum bad.” you whined, trailing your hand to your clit.
However, he’s quick to stop it, bringing it to his lips and sucking on your wrist, hearing you whine even more, beginning to slowly pass out.
“Holy shit…” you breathed out, your breathing slightly harsh.
“Come on.” he said, his mouth twitching as he can feel you clenching around him.
“I know you want to say it with that nasty voice of yours. You was talking filthy all over the call and shit.” he said lustfully, dragging his hot tongue over your hand.
You sucked your teeth loudly, feeling like your body is going to exploded if you don’t give in.
So you do.
“This pussy is yours, Terrance!” you breathed out, your legs tightening.
“Nobody else is allowed inside this but you and that fat ass dick of yours!” you added, tears pouring of your eyes.
He nods hungrily, licking his lips as he threw his head back, moaning sinfully as he speeds up his strokes, both of your moans mixing in.
“Alright. Cum for me” he said, slamming in one more time.
On cue, you cum hard on his dick, your essence spraying out, creating a tsunami under you and between y’all as your weak, erotic cries fill up the room, your body shaking a bit.
He cums really hard into your pussy, his hot seed flowing in like he’s been holding back from release all day, feeling very hot and sticky against his strained groans, squeezing the pillow next to you.
He collapses on top of you, nestling his head between your breasts before slowly falling asleep, breathing softly.
“You’re mine again…” is the last thing he says before falling asleep, his snores following.
You smile softly, rubbing his back in agreement before you fall asleep, exhausted from yet another session of him tearing up your walls.
A/N II: This was a surprise, to be quite honest. But I hope everyone enjoyed it just as much as I did, spending an hour writing this.
