MY ANKLE BITER BROTHER TRIES TO STEAL MY GIRL. ( James Cook x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! I need more suggestions for any of Jack's character's, cause if not i'm just gonna do little headcannons / mini prompts from previous polls! <3
pairing: James Cook x Girlfriend! Reader
prompt : You call Cook's little brother, Paddy, cute and Cook spirals.
word count: 1,000+ words
P.S. I think Paddy is like 6 - 8 years old in Skins.
You had met Cook’s younger brother, Patrick or Paddy, many times before in passing. Often whenever Cook needed to pick him up from primary school for an ‘emergency’ his Mum had, or on the rare occasion that Cook spent at his Mum’s for more than a few days. And each and every time, you found yourself fawn over the adorable chubby-cheeked little boy. How could you not? He was so adorable in the way he mimicked Cook, looking up to his big brother despite how much Cook was not the ideal role model. Not to mention, he’d definitely inherited the cheekiness that Cook had and the flirty charm⎯only his filtration was limited to;
“( Y/n ), I made this for you! My teacher said to make the prettiest thing we have ever seen and I made you!”
“You look really pretty today, ( Y/n ). Like the prettiest supermodel!”
“Can you be my girlfriend? I want to tell the others at school how I have the prettiest girlfriend ever!”
It made you want to squish his chubby little cheeks and coddle him close to your chest despite him being too old for that. He was just so cute, like a younger and more cuter version of Cook before all the hormones and pimples⎯even though Cook swears it was only one pimple that one time. You truly hoped that no one would dim the light and good in little Paddy. He was sweet, and saw the good in everyone⎯even his ‘amazing and like the totally coolest’ big brother Cook. There were too many mean people in this world, it didn't need anyone.
Rolling your eyes playfully as Cook nuzzles his face into your neck, you pretend to shrug him off, looking out for Paddy. Their Mum had another one of her ‘emergencies’, and demanded that Cook be the one to pick Paddy up. So now the two of you were ditching your planned movie date to put the little boy up⎯though you weren’t too upset about it. You didn’t mind seeing the little boy or picking him up. He was cute enough and made you smile each time you saw him. Wrapping his arm tightly around your waist, you drum your fingers on his forearm, the two of you rock from side-to-side impatiently. You could feel the judgmental stares of stuck-up Mum’s around you both.
“So, I was thinking..”
“Are you now?” You raise a brow, “I thought I smelt smoke.”
“Oh, piss off!” He scoffs, pinching your side playfully.
“But, go on..” You chuckle, “So, you were thinking?”
“I was thinking, after we pick up Paddy, we have a movie night in my room. Not as fancy, but still nice.” He suggests, his voice trailing off at the end.
“No.”
“What?” He scoffs, “Why not?”
“Because I know you, Cook. You’ll do that thing with your arm and look at me all sad and mopey, and I don’t fancy shagging with Paddy in the house.” You argue back, shaking your head.
Letting out an over dramatic groan at your denial, he tightens his grip on your waist, acting like a child. There was no way in hell you’d agree to it, no matter how much he pouted or complained about it. The idea of shagging him, knowing that Paddy was down the hall using crayons to do his homework was revolting. Catching a glance of little Paddy’s face in the crowd of children, you try to shrug Cook off, ignoring the loud scoff of annoyance. Possessive little bastard.
Pressing a long sloppy kiss onto your cheek, you squeal at the slobber on your face, trying to wipe it off with the back of your hand. Shrugging your hand away, he presses a softer kiss onto the corner of his lips, mumbling something incomprehensible against your skin. Though it sounded a lot like, ‘Fuckin loving you’. Slowly smiling at the sound, you melt into the sweet affection, his hand slowly wandering down to your ass and giving it a cheeky squeeze.
“Cook! We’re at a children’s school!" You complain, though your tone was light-hearted.
“So? None of those little ankle biters will care.” He snorts, “Just let me give you some love.”
“Cook!” You chuckle, squirming as he smothers your cheek with slobbery wet kisses.
“I. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. You!” He mumbles, pressing a kiss with each word.
Throwing your head back with a laugh at the feeling, you try to wiggle yourself free of his hold, but his grip is firm on your hips. Pressing an over dramatic wet kiss onto your lips, he slobbers all over you like a dog, licking off your flavored chapstick. It was less of a kiss, more of an excuse to embarrass you. Wrinkling your nose up at the action, you push him off a little more forcefully, cheeks flushing a bright pink from embarrassment. You loved him, but god was he a menace. Motioning towards a pouting Paddy looking for his Mum who was going to pick him up, he lets out a soft huff, not wanting to let go of you just yet.
“Go on, he’s waiting.”
“Five more minutes.” He grumbles, shaking his head.
“No.” You argue, “Go on, Cook. He looks like he’s gonna cry, don’t be a dick. Or I'll do it.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll go get him.” He huffs, begrudgingly pulling away.
“Thank you.” You smile, “I’ll make it up to you.”
Cracking a soft smile as he drags himself towards the steps of the building, you watch as Paddy lights up instantly, little backpack bobbing up and down as he sprints to Cook. Scooping up his brother into his arms, Cook shakes him up and down playfully, trying to hold Paddy upside down by the ankle. The pair squeal and argue playfully, not caring about the looks from other parents and students. Chewing on your bottom lip at the sight, you wouldn’t deny that it was a heartwarming sight, seeing Cook so playful and loving with Paddy. He’d make a great dad one day, whether he knew it or not. He had that gentleness, the kind that his shite parents didn’t have.
Swinging Paddy around, Paddy squeals loudly, slapping and hitting at Cook’s shoulders to go ‘faster’. Nearly running smack into a Mum and little girl, you tense up at the sight, taking a step towards the pair. And just like that they were done playing. The last thing you needed was Cook to use Paddy as a weapon and break some random Mum’s face. Slowly down at the sight of you, Paddy grumbles as he hides his face into Cook’s shoulder, mumbling something about his tummy hurting from spinning so much. Shooting you a guilty look at going over the top, Paddy turns his head in confusion at the look on Cook’s face, his entire face lighting up instantly at the sight of you.
“Paddy!” You smile, opening your arms for a hug.
“( Y/n )!” He laughs excitedly, kicking Cook to put him down. “Cook! Cook! Cook! Put me down! Put me down!”
“Ahh, how is my favorite Cook brother!” You question, grinning at his excitement.
“Amazing!” He squeals, leaping into your arms like a spider monkey.
“Oi, the fuck am I, a used condom?” Cook scoffs offended, shooting you a glare.
Cracking a soft grin at how adorable he sounded, you gently take off his backpack, handing it off to Cook to carry. Letting out a loud scoff of displeasure at being designated to holding the bag, you carry Paddy on your hip, giggling as his little hands grip onto your shirt tightly. Bouncing him up and down on your hip, you smile at how adorable he looked, with his little school boy cap on his head. You wondered if Cook had a little hat like this in primary school. Or if he would have refused to wear one, he seemed like the type. Poking at your cheek softly with his finger, Paddy rests his head on your shoulder, letting out the cutest little yawn you had ever heard.
“How was school?”
“Okay, I guess. We learned about plants and the sun..and how the sun feeds plants and how they grow..” He smiles, twirling a strand of your hair.
“Yeah?” You raise a brow, letting him ramble away.
“Mm-hm, and tomorrow we’re going to grow a bean in a cup.” He nods, “Did you ever grow a bean before, ( Y/n)?”
“No, I haven’t. But, now I wish I had.” You smile, enjoying his attempt to stay awake.
“I’ll grow my bean for you, I promise.”
“Yeah, you promise?” You chuckle, “Well, now I have to come tomorrow so I can see your bean.”
Letting out another soft yawn at your words, you could feel the exhaustion coming out from him, your lips curling down softly from how adorable he was. How he was related to Cook’s shite parents was beyond you. He was just so cute and they were so…shite. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, he mumbles something softly under his breath, still trying to play with your hair. Slowly walking down the street to Cook’s Mum’s flat, you glance back at Cook, finally remembering him. You had been more focused on Paddy than him.
Walking behind you like a scowling puppy, you roll your eyes softly, slightly amused by how he was acting. You had seen Paddy act more maturely than him, and he was seven. Glaring at the both of you, he sticks his tongue out, though you’re not sure who it was meant for exactly. Letting out a soft snort under your breath, Paddy shifts in your arms, cuddling deeper into you. Biting back an awe on the tip of your tongue, you could understand why so many Mum’s gushed over their children, they were fucking adorable.
“Don’t coddle him.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He’s a boy, Cook.” You argue, “I’m not gonna be mean to him.”
“Fukin’ should be! He’s fuckin’ grin at me from over your shoulder.” He argues, pointing to a sleeping Paddy.
“No, he’s not, Cook. He’s sleeping.” You argue, rubbing up and down Paddy’s back.
“No the fuck he’s not!” He argues, “Little shits grinning at me all smugly.”
“Are you fuckin’ jealous of your little brother?”
Opening his mouth to argue back, he stops himself from speaking, his face as he realizes that the argument was not going in his favor. Letting out involuntarily scoff at the look on his face, you shake your head, rolling your eyes hard. Adjusting your grip on Paddy, you pick up your pace, stopping yourself before you made a real scene in front of Paddy’s classmates. He was fucking jealous of an seven year old. That was low, even for him, which was saying a lot.
“No.” He pauses, “A little.”
“Don’t be. He’s adorable, but⎯” You start, but he cuts you off.
“Don’t fuckin’ say that! You’ll only encourage the little shit.”
“He’s a fuckin’ seven year old, Cook.” You counter in a deadpan tone, “The fuck is going to do, seduce with his bike and training wheels?”
“He fucking might, he’s my brother!”
“You’re ridiculous." You scoff, rolling your hard.
“He’s smarter than he looks!” He argues, shaking his head.
“He’s seven, Cook.”
“And a half!” He argues, “He’s fucking smart, cheeky little shite is trying to steal you from me.”
-----
Can you see this post in the "Jack O'Connell" latest tags? ( I think I am being shadowbanned )
Summary: After a 2 year long dry-spell, you seek companionship…. In the form of your favorite cam-boy
Pairing: Cook x f!reader
Warnings: cam-boy!Cook, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, PUSSY EATING TALK cause I'm here to spread the agenda that this man MUNCHES. this is also kinda goofy and so not serious because the more I thought about Cook as a camboy/pornstar, the more I realized, HE would not take it that seriously. He's a little shit. That's the best way I can describe him. A little shit that eats good and fucks hard.
Word count: 2k
A/N: I was high as fuck for a good portion of writing this so if it's bad, don't tell me
Tags: @cuntbitchandthebottlemen
It had been awhile to say the least.
Your dry-spell was reaching it's 2nd year mark, and how you made it this far was beyond you. For the most part, a porn tab in your incognito browser, your trusty right hand, and a wildly vivid imagination did the trick. It really wasn't so much the release that you craved anymore, but more so the connection during the act that you really missed. Sure, you could download any dating app or open any of your social dms and bag a quick shag with some random loser, but that just wasn't your style.
Neither was this, yet here you are.
In your defense you had found a gem. In a never-ending sea of cringy, solo male jerk-off videos, where they're so silent you turn your volume up only to realize, they don't make any noise whatsoever save for the slick sound of their saliva covered fists, you had found him.
CookieMonster69
So okay, maybe his screen name was cringy, but fuck if he didn't eat pussy like it was his job, and you found the goofy name sort of charming.
Well- you guess sometimes in a way it is. His job, that is.
CookieMonster69, or Cook as the girls in some of his videos managed to moan out during relentless poundings, knew what he was doing. Rather than seeming as though he was just in all of this for his own pleasure, he looked like he enjoyed giving to his partners just as much as being on the receiving end.
So one night, while scrolling through his seemingly endless gallery, trying to find that one video that was guaranteed to get you off quick every time, (you know, the one where he makes a girl squirt with just his tongue flicking her clit in justttt the right way), you noticed a green bubble pop up next to his profile icon. His icon in which his cheekily freckled face was posed with his tongue out between two spread fingers. Truly, you had no clue why you were attracted to this guy.
He was active.
A green ring around his icon started blinking. He had gone live.
You didn't even know you could do that on this particular site. Surely you would have noticed sooner? Maybe not. Admittedly, you really only stuck to watching his videos. Maybe looked up his Instagram once or twice… or 10 times.
Curiosity gets the better of you. Your thumb hovers over his cheeky face, hesitating for a moment, at war with yourself mentally, before finally clicking.
The view that pops up makes your heart race, thumping against your ribcage, and a flush immediately rushing to your cheeks.
There Cook sits on his bed, lounging back against his pillows, chest bare, and legs clad in loose grey sweatpants that sit low enough on his hips that the band of his boxers are visible, and do very little to hide the massive hard-on he's unashamedly sporting.
Both of his hands come up to ruffle his perpetually messy, auburn hair and he leans forward a bit to squint at his screen to read the notifications, and says your username, "welcome to the stream, love. Gonna wait for a few more to join, 'fore we get started here." One of his hands comes down to palm at his thick shaft and he grins, a dimple dotting his cheek.
You shouldn't have had a reaction to it, really you shouldn't have, but you could feel your core clench around nothing. He hadn't even taken his sweatpants off yet, (grey sweatpants yet) and here you are already getting wet.
You wanted more.
The chat section catches your attention, a pop up reading "comment for direct interaction". The chat pings as more people trickle into the stream. You really shouldn't, yet here your fingertips hover over the keys, poised to type out a comment to your favorite cam-boy.
"Love your videos xx"
Simple, to the point, not too raunchy. Innocent enough. Right?
That crooked grin lights up Cook's face as his thick fingers pull at the drawstring of his sweats, "What do you love about my videos? Tell me."
Oh dear God.
Your breath catches in your chest. You know he's talking to you. No one else has commented yet and there's only 66 people in the stream so far. You could always close your laptop and forget this ever happened. Go back to using your right hand and your imagination.
But there's a part of you that wants to see where this goes. How far this goes.
"Love that you actually talk and moan."
Why not be honest, right? What could it hurt?
He chuckles on screen, thumbs hooking into the waistband of his boxers and he starts sliding them down his narrow hips, "Love that I make noise? Y'know most people think I talk too much, yeah. I'll talk for you though, baby. Tell me more about what you like. Gimme somethin' to think about while I stroke my cock.”
You watch with wide eyes as his thick cock slaps against his belly, pink tip leaking precum that sticks to his pale, freckled skin. His brows knit together, jaw slack, as he takes himself in his hand, stroking from root to tip and back down again. He makes a show of cupping his heavy balls, massaging them before going back to gripping his shaft.
Your heart pounds and your fingers fly over the keyboard like a woman possessed, "I like when you tell your partners what to do and then praise them for it." You feel your thighs subconsciously squeeze together, hopelessly searching for friction. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Sexting with a stranger. A cam-boy. On the internet. In front of an audience.
Cook says your username again, "I want you to be a good girl and touch yourself with me, can you do that?" He drools a big glob of spit into his hand to slick himself up further. When his fist reaches the flushed, swollen tip, he twists and strokes back downwards, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he watches as he works himself. He lazily drags his other hand up his abs and chest.
At least that audience couldn't see you. You probably looked like a wreck, skin flushed with heat and chest heaving. Before you can even regret your answer you hit send.
"Yes Cookie."
He smiles and tilts his head back with a throaty groan that goes straight to your cunt as his pace continues, "Good fuckin' girl."
Your hand snakes beneath your pajama pants and under the waistband of your panties, fingers meeting a wet, sticky mess. You drag your middle and forefinger through your slit, from your weeping opening to your aching clit.
"Want you to rub your clit for me. Slow, tight little circles.” On screen he leans back, legs spread wide, one hand coming down to play with his sack, his other slowly jerking up and down his shaft. His flushed pink head peeking out the top of his fist with every upstroke, drooling pearly white precum that makes your mouth water at the sight.
"Want you to imagine it's my tongue licking your cunt."
Your hole clenches around nothing at his words and you moan, two fingers circling your wet clit just as he instructed you to do.
"Fuck, wish I was licking your pussy while I stroke my cock. I bet she tastes so sweet, baby." He fucks his fist a little faster, the schlick schlick schlick sound audible even over your shitty laptop speakers. Your thighs twitch, and you can see that his do too.
"Would hold those hips down while I fuck you on my fingers and suck your little clit." He whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers while he thinks about it. "Fuck, bet you would squirm."
And squirm you do. Your hips lifting into your own hand as your fingers obediently circle your dripping entrance before sinking into your slick heat. You whine, eyes locked on the screen in front of you, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy at the same pace that Cook fucks his own fist. His boyish face contorts with pleasure, jaw hung slack. His blue eyes watch as he works himself, and then they look directly into the camera, your heartbeat kicking in your chest.
"Want you to come with me, can you do that? Be a good girl and come with me?"
You know he can't see you. But holy fuck does it feel like he can.
Your free hand clumsily types out "yes I'll be good" and taps enter, the need to be obedient for him strong.
As you see his eyes catch your message, your orgasm quickly approaches. Your fingers circle faster, watching as Cook's abs constrict as he strokes himself, his hips jerking with a faulty rhythm that has you imagining what they would feel like smacking against your ass as he fucks you from behind instead. The thought tips you over the edge, legs shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Thighs closing around your hand, riding out the pleasure that courses through your body.
"Ah fuck, 'm gonna come." Cook mumbles out, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, gaze locked on his twitching cock as he comes. His head tilts back and his chest heaves with heavy breaths as his hand slows it's movements before letting go completely. His still hard dick resting in a pool of his own spend on his quivering belly. His eyes flutter open and closed and he smiles, "Fuck, that was good."
Your own eyes blink open again and look at the screen next to you to see the chat has gone mad, next to the image of Cook lounging back against the pillows, One hand resting on his chest, and abdomen painted in his own come.
You also notice the blinking tip button.
You click on it. Type in a few numbers. Hit enter.
An emote pops up on the screen to signal that Cook was tipped, and he begins to thank you.
"I had fun, love. You know where to find me if you want a round 2. I know I wanna play again" He laughs and grips his dick, "Most girls want a round 2 with the Cookie Monster."
That should have been enough to make you not do what you were about to do. Should have given you a healthy dose of post nut clarity.
Instead, with the sound of Cook letting his followers know his planned streaming schedule as your background noise, you opened a private chat with him and typed out a message.
In the stream window, he pauses mid-sentence when he sees the notification then grins like the cheeky fucker he is.
"Gonna have to go now, everyone. Have a little...business to take care of."
⤷ husband!patrick, breeding, slight tit sucking, riding, overstimulation, cream pie, talk of babies, p in v, praise - you can’t help but want a baby after seeing all your friends tend to their sweet babies -
The crisp winter air carried the scent of woodsmoke and decaying leaves, a fitting backdrop for the warmth that had taken root in your heart. You’d spent the afternoon with the Hendersons, cooing over their newborn son, his tiny fists waving in the air. It was a familiar, wonderful ache, one that you knew well. You and Patrick already had your own sweet joy, your daughter, a little girl of three with your eyes and Patrick’s tinge of red hair. Watching her sleep in her bed just last night had filled you with a love so profound it hurt.
You thought of your daughter, an only child, and imagined her as a big sister, her small hands carefully holding a baby, her voice whispering secrets to a new sibling. The thought completed a picture in your heart you hadn't realized was unfinished.
Now, you sat by the fire in the parlor, the house quiet save for the crackle of the flames and the scratch of Patrick’s pen. He was hunched over his desk, a good, steady man, the best father you could have imagined for your little girl. You watched the firelight catch the dark strands of his hair, and the longing intensified. A brother or sister for your daughter. Another piece of him and you.
Rising from your chair, you went to him, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. He stopped writing, leaning into your touch with a soft sigh.
"What is it, my love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head, your fingers tracing the line of his tense shoulders. "Just thinking," you murmured, your lips brushing against his hair. He tilted his head back to look up at you, his dark eyes warm in the firelight, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
"About what?" he asked, his voice a low vibration you felt through your hands. "About our little girl? Or about the Hendersons' new lad?"
"Both," you admitted, moving to stand beside his chair, your hand sliding down his arm to lace your fingers with his. "Seeing them today…holding their baby. It made me think."
His thumb stroked over the back of your hand. "Think what?"
You took a breath, the words feeling both terrifying and thrilling on your tongue. "I was thinking about our daughter. About how she'd be as a big sister. And I was thinking… I want another one, Patrick."
His smile softened, his gaze turning impossibly tender. He let go of your hand, his large palms coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer until you stood between his strong thighs. "Another one?" he repeated, his voice dropping to that intimate rumble that made your stomach flutter. "Are you sure, my love?"
You nodded, your heart thudding against your ribs. "I've never been more sure of anything. I feel a little silly- the ravenous need I have for you is unlike any other, and I want to have your child again, I want to be filled.”
Patrick let out a slow breath, his eyes searching yours. Then, a different kind of understanding dawned in his gaze, a look that was both doctor and husband. "My love," he said softly, his voice a low, intimate caress. "Are you aware of what day it is?"
Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Tuesday?"
A slow, handsome smile spread across his face. "It's the fourteenth," he clarified, his hands tightening on your waist. "The fourteenth day of your cycle." He watched as the realization washed over you, the scientific precision of his words colliding with the deep, emotional yearning in your heart. He knew your body as well as he knew his own. "You're at your peak. You're most fertile."
The air crackled with a new, potent energy. It wasn't just a wish anymore, it was a possibility, a tangible, scientific fact. "Oh," you breathed, the single word full of awe.
"Oh, indeed," he rumbled, his eyes darkening with a primal heat. "So you see, my love, we have a very small window of opportunity." He surged upward, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in the soft fabric of your dress at your stomach. You tangled your hands in his hair, holding him close, the desperate ache in your chest finally easing, replaced by a wave of pure, unadulterated want.
He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his hands sliding down to cup your backside, squeezing gently. “It's your body telling you- it’s nature.”
He rose from the chair in a fluid motion, his strength effortless as he swept you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and his mouth found yours in a searing kiss. It wasn't gentle or questioning; it was a kiss of agreement, of a shared purpose, deep and full of all the love you had for one another. He carried you from the parlor.
In your bedroom, he lay you down on the soft quilts as if you were something precious, his body following yours, covering you with his familiar weight. His hands were everywhere, pushing up your skirts, his calloused fingertips tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs. "You're so perfect," he murmured against your lips, his voice a reverent praise. "So ready for me. Your body knows what it wants, doesn't it? It knows it's time to be bred."
You arched into his touch, a soft gasp escaping you as his thumb found the slick clit between your legs, circling slowly. "Patrick," you whimpered, need coiling tight in your belly.
"Shh, I know, my love," he soothed, his mouth trailing down your neck. "I'll give you what you need. I'll give you everything." He freed himself from his trousers, and you felt the thick, hard press of him against your entrance. He looked down at you, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath. "Right now," he said, his voice a low growl, “Big stretch like always, sweet girl, breathe in-”
With one slow, deep thrust, he was inside you, stretching you, completing you. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"Your cervix is soft, open, ready. I'm going to push my seed as deep as it can go, right where it needs to be." Each soft, steady stroke was a declaration, a promise. "That's it," he grunted, his forehead pressed against yours. "Take it. Take all of me. You feel that? M’right in there, sweet girl. That's me giving you our future."
The pleasure built, a blinding, all-consuming wave. His words were a litany of praise and desire. "So good for me. Always so good. My beautiful wife. The mother of my children.”
"Tell me, love. Tell me what you want."
"You," you gasped, your head thrown back against the pillows. "You, Patrick. A baby. Our baby."
"God, yes," he groaned, his pace quickening just enough to make your toes curl. "Say it again."
"Give me a baby," you whimpered, the words tumbling out, broken by his powerful strokes. "Please, Patrick. Fill me up."
"That's my girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I'm going to. I'm going to flood this sweet little womb until it can't hold anymore. I'm going to make sure you're carrying our child by morning." He lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours, and the raw, possessive love you saw there was your undoing. "Look at me when I give it to you. I want to see your eyes when I put our baby in you."
You blinked your eyes open, your vision blurred with pleasure, and held his gaze. The connection was electric, a circuit of pure, unadulterated need. "So so big- ngh!" You choked out, “feel so full,"
"And you're going to stay that way," he promised, his voice a low, commanding growl that sent you spiraling. "I'm not going to let a single drop go to waste. I'll keep you plugged up all night if I have to. You'll go to sleep with my seed inside you, hmm?" His hand slid down your body, his palm pressing flat against your lower belly, right above where he was buried so deep inside you, and he gave you a sweet, wet kiss to your cheek. "Right here. Ngh! S’where my come belongs-”
The thought, combined with the relentless, perfect pressure of his cock, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you, a violent, beautiful wave that ripped a scream from your throat. Your inner walls clenched around him, a greedy, desperate pulse, milking him.
"Fuck, yes," he snarled, his control finally shattering. He drove into you one last time, impossibly deep, and his whole body went rigid. “Look at me, honey, look at your husband- let me see those beautiful eyes,”
You felt the hot, thick flood of his release, a powerful, endless surge that seemed to fill every part of you. He pulsed inside you again and again, his groans a sound you would cherish forever.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of your own heart in your ears. He was a heavy, welcome weight on top of you, but he didn't move. He didn't pull out.
"Patrick," you breathed, your voice hoarse. "I can't, I can't feel my legs."
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated against your skin. "Good," he mumbled into your shoulder. "Means you won't be going anywhere." His dark eyes soft and hazy with satisfaction. "We're not done, my love."
Before you could ask what he meant, he was shifting. With a strength that never failed to astonish you, he wrapped an arm around your waist and rolled, taking you with him until you were straddling his lap, his cock still buried deep inside you. You gasped at the new angle, the way it filled you to the hilt.
"There now," he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your pebbled nipples. “Shhhh...” He watched you, brushing back the little baby hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.
"You're going to take another load, aren't you? You're going to take everything I have until I'm sure it's taken."
He began to move you up and down, with a slow, subtle rocking of his hips that sent jolts of pleasure through your oversensitive body. You whimpered, your hands bracing on his chest. "Patrick, I can't, it's too much."
"No, it's not," he soothed, his voice a hypnotic caress. "It's exactly enough. It's what your body was made for. To take me. To carry my child." He leaned up, capturing a nipple in his mouth and sucking gently, his tongue swirling around the peak. The dual sensations of his mouth and his hips rocking into you were overwhelming, stoking a fire you thought had been extinguished. "Just one more, sweet girl. One more to make sure. Give me one more, and I'll give you everything."
His words were like a drug, the pleasure began to build again. You began to move with him, matching his rhythm, your body knowing exactly what to do.
"That's it," he praised, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. "Ride me, love. Take what you need. Show me how much you want that baby." His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, his own hips rising to meet yours, each thrust a deliberate statement. Your husband takes your chin in his handa nd guides you to look down at the bulge in your tummy at each thrust. "Look down. Look at us. You feel me there, angel?"
Seeing him disappear into you again and again. It was the most erotic thing you had ever seen.
“Y-yes!”
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he groaned, his eyes fixed on the same sight. "My beautiful, fertile wife. Taking my cock so well." He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. "I'm going to fill you again. I'm going to make a mess of this pretty little pussy, and you're going to thank me for it, aren't you?"
"Yes," you sobbed, the pleasure cresting, a sharp, blinding peak that stole the air from your lungs. "Yes, Patrick, thank you..."
Your second orgasm tore through you, and this time, he followed you right over the edge. With a guttural roar, he slammed you down onto him, his hips jerking upwards as he spilled himself into you for a second time. You felt the heat of it, another thick, copious flood that mingled with the first, filling you to overflowing until you could feel it beginning to leak out, trailing down your thighs.
“There- there-” he cooed between pants,
He held you there, his arms wrapped around you like a vise, his face pressed against your chest as he fought for breath. You were boneless, spent, a complete and utter mess, and you had never felt more loved.
After a long moment, he kissed you, a slow, deep kiss full of lingering passion. Patrick lifts you gently and grabs a pillow to place under your hips, guiding you to lie down.
"Stay just like that, angel," he whispered against your mouth, his hand coming to rest possessively over your lower belly. "We'll give it a little while. Let gravity do its work. We want to be absolutely sure."
pairing : jack o'connell x reader
summary : you've been planning to visit your boyfriend on his movie set as a surprise, but things took an unexpected turn.
warning : SEX DUH? MINORS NOT ALLOWED
a/n : huge huge thank you to @cuntbitchandthebottlemen for posting the original video of this gif- this has been haunting me in my wet dreams so i finally got to write something about it
You had planned the surprise for days.
Jack had been filming on location for weeks, and every text he sent sounded more exhausted than the last. So when you finally stepped onto the set with a visitor's pass clipped to your jacket, you couldn't stop smiling.
No one had told him you were coming.
The afternoon sun beat down on the outdoor set, crew members moving equipment between takes. You stayed out of the way, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.
Then you found him.
Your breath caught.
Jack stood near one of the trailers, shirtless between scenes, a makeup artist dusting something from his shoulder before hurrying away. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, and he was laughing at something a crew member had said.
You hadn't seen him in person for nearly a month.
And apparently, you were staring.
Halfway through his conversation, Jack's smile faded. He glanced around, as if he'd felt eyes on him.
And then he spotted you.
For a second, neither of you moved.
His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief.
"No way," you saw him mouth.
You lifted a hand in a small wave.
Jack immediately reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and tucked it between his lips. Not lighting it yet—just something to occupy himself while he processed the fact that you were actually standing there.
Then he started walking toward you.
Fast.
The cigarette bounced slightly as he grinned.
"You're kidding me."
You laughed. "Surprise."
"Surprise?" he repeated. "You flew all the way out here and call it a surprise?"
Before you could answer, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. The familiar scent of smoke, cologne, and the day's work clung to him. You melted into the hug.
"I missed you too," you teased.
"You've got no idea."
When he finally pulled back, the cigarette was still hanging forgotten from his fingers.
"You know," he said, looking at you with that crooked smile you'd been missing for weeks, "I felt someone staring at me."
Heat rushed to your face, "Was I that obvious?"
Jack laughed, "Love, you were looking at me like I was the last man on earth." He slipped an arm around your shoulders and started guiding you toward the trailers. "Not that I'm complaining."
And judging by the way he refused to let go of your hand for the rest of the afternoon, he really wasn't.
The trailer door clicked shut behind you, muffling the noise of the set outside.
Jack tossed his keys onto the small counter and let out a long sigh, the kind that seemed to come from his bones.
"God," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I've been dreaming about sitting down all day."
You dropped onto the small couch, smiling as he immediately gravitated toward you as though he'd forgotten how to exist without being within arm's reach.
"Weren't you filming?"
"Was."
"Weren't you needed?"
He glanced toward the door, "Nah. Most of the crew disappeared to grab dinner, and I've got a bit before they drag me back out there."
The grin he gave you made it clear he was very pleased about that fact. Jack leaned against the counter for a moment, studying you.
It wasn't the casual glance from earlier. It was the look of someone who hadn't seen their partner in weeks and was making up for lost time.
"What?" you asked.
"Just looking at you."
"You literally texted me yesterday."
"Not the same thing."
His eyes wandered over your face, almost as though he was checking that you were real. Then a slow smile spread across his lips. "You know," he said, "I was having a perfectly normal day."
"Oh?"
"Mhm."
He pushed away from the counter and crossed the trailer.
"Then my girlfriend turns up out of nowhere."
You laughed.
"Terrible thing to happen."
"Absolutely devastating."
He dropped onto the couch beside you, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours.
The space in the trailer suddenly felt much smaller.
Jack's arm stretched along the back of the couch behind you.
"So devastating, in fact, that I haven't been able to focus for the last twenty minutes."
"You seemed pretty focused."
"I was shirtless."
"And?"
"You were staring."
Your face immediately warmed.
"I missed you," you whispered, the words barely escaping. He stopped inches from you, the scent of expensive cologne, and salt radiating off his skin.
He leaned in, the heat from his shirtless chest nearly touching you. "A month," he murmured, his eyes darkening.
"You have no idea what you've done to me, being away for a month." He didn't wait for an answer.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply, his stubble scratching your sensitive skin.
"I can't think," he groaned against her pulse, "all I've thought about for thirty days is exactly how you taste."
"Jack," you gasped, your hands sliding up his damp back, feeling the ripple of muscle. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression feral.
He didn't kiss you gently; he claimed your mouth in a bruising, desperate collision. His tongue slipped inside, demanding entry, tasting of nicotine and longing.
It was a messy, saliva-slicked exchange, yourr breaths mingling in short, jagged bursts.
He sucked on your lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before releasing it with a wet pop.
His hands moved with an undying energy, tearing at your clothes. He ripped your blouse open, buttons scattering across the linoleum floor like tiny plastic raindrops.
He groaned when his palms finally hit your bare skin, his rough calluses scraping over your breasts.
He squeezed them hard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, twisting your nipples through the thin lace of your bra until you cried out.
"You're so fucking soft," he hissed, his voice breaking, "I've been starving for this."
He yanked the bra away, exposing you to the cool air of the trailer for only a second before his mouth replaced the fabric. He latched onto one nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the peak.
The sound of his wet sucking filled the small space, a squelching noise that made your thighs tremble.
You reached for his trousers, your fingers fumbling with the button and zipper.
You needed him out, needed the friction of skin on skin. When you finally freed him, his cock sprang forward, thick and pulsing, already leaking a bead of clear pre-cum that glistened at the tip.
It was heavy and hot, the veins standing out against the flushed skin of his shaft.
Jack let out a guttural sound, a mix of a moan and a growl, as you wrapped you fingers around him.
He jerked his hips forward, slapping his balls against your palm.
"Don't stop," he commanded, his voice a rough command, "God, just touch me."
He didn't wait for you to lead as he hooked his arms under your thighs, hoisting you up.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. He carried you the few steps to his small make shift bed, throwing you down with a thud that knocked the wind out of you.
He stripped off his trousers and boxers in one fluid motion, his eyes locked on you, his breathing heavy and labored.
He crawled over you, his knees pinning your arms to the pillows. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, the sweat from his body dripping onto your stomach.
"I'm going to ruin you," he whispered, a promise and a threat, "I'm going to take my time"
He descended again, his mouth finding your clit through the fabric of your panties. He didn't remove them slowly; he ripped the lace aside, exposing your wetness to the air.
He groaned at the scent of you, the musky, sweet aroma of your arousal.
He dove in, his tongue broad and flat, licking you from the base of your opening up to the swollen peak of your clit.
The sensation was electric.
You arched yourr back, your fingers clawing at the leather of the sofa.
Jack was relentless, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit while his fingers slid inside you.
He pushed two fingers deep into your soaking heat, the sound of the friction creating a loud, wet shlicking noise.
He pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you, feeling the internal walls of your pussy clamp down on him in rhythmic spasms.
"Look at you," he muttered, glancing up, his chin glistening with your juices, "soaking for me. You wanted this as much as I did." He pulled his fingers out with a wet squelch and positioned himself.
He didn't use a slow entry.
He gripped your hips, his knuckles white, and drove himself inside you in one powerful, punishing thrust.
The air left your lungs in a sharp scream.
He was massive, filling you completely, the head of his cock slamming hard against your cervix. The impact sent a shockwave of pleasure-pain through your entire body.
Jack let out a loud, ragged moan, his head falling back as he felt your tight walls grip him like a vice.
"Fuck," he gasped, his voice strained, "you're so tight. It's like I've never been inside you before."
He began to move, and it wasn't a dance; it was a conquest.
He withdrew almost entirely, the head of his cock nearly slipping out of your wet channel, before slamming back in with a wet, heavy thud.
The sound of your bodies colliding—the slap of his balls against your ass and the squelch of your combined fluids—echoed in the quiet trailer.
He wasn't being careful. He was rough, his movements frantic and driven by a month of deprivation.
He shifted his angle, digging deeper, his cock rubbing against your G-spot with every violent plunge.
You could feel the friction building, a searing heat that threatened to consume you.
"Harder," you whimpered, her voice a broken plea, "Jack, please, harder."
He obliged, his pace accelerating into a blur of motion.
He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat, and kissed you with a desperate hunger, your tongues fighting for dominance.
He was panting, the sound of his breath ragged and hot against your ear.
"I've got you," he groaned, his voice vibrating through you, "I've finally got you."
As he hammered into you, the friction became almost unbearable, the pleasure peaking into a sharp, blinding edge.
He felt your internal muscles begin to ripple, the first waves of your orgasm crashing over you.
You tightened around him, your pussy milking him with desperate intensity.
"Yes," Jack hissed, his eyes blowing wide, "cum for me, give it all to me."
The sensation of you climaxing triggered his own. He let out a primal roar, his body stiffening as he delivered several final, deepest thrusts, burying himself to the hilt.
He felt the first surge of his orgasm rip through him, a violent eruption of heat.
He groaned, his muscles locking up as he pumped load after load of thick, hot seed deep into you, the force of his ejaculation making him shudder uncontrollably.
He didn't pull out.
He collapsed on top of you, his heavy chest heaving against yours, your skin glued together by sweat and fluids.
The only sound in the trailer was the synchronized, ragged gasping of your breath.
Slowly, the tension began to drain from his body.
He shifted his weight, rolling to the side but keeping you tucked firmly against his flank.
He reached down, his hand sliding over the wetness between your thighs, feeling the mixture of his cum and your cream leaking out of you.
"Don't you ever," he whispered, his voice returning to its usual low, melodic rasp, "-do that to me again, love. A month is too long."
You turned in his arms, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, smelling the salt and the lingering scent of the set.
The hunger was gone, replaced by a heavy, shimmering contentment.
"I'm not going anywhere," you murmured.
Jack chuckled, a low vibration in his chest, and kissed your forehead.
He held you tight, the silence of the trailer a stark contrast to the chaos outside, the world narrowed down to just the two of you and the lingering heat of your collision.
He closed his eyes, finally at peace, the void of the last month filled and overflowing.
"I really missed you."
The confession came quietly.
Just honest.
Your smile softened.
"I missed you too."
Jack held your gaze for a moment before nudging his shoulder against yours.
"Good."
"Good?"
His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you comfortably against his side. For a while neither of you said much.
The trailer was quiet.
Comfortably quiet.
The kind that only happened when you knew someone well enough not to fill every second with conversation.
Jack rested his cheek briefly against the top of your head.
Then, after a moment:
"So."
The suspicious tone made you glance up.
"So?"
"You planning on staying until I finish?"
"That's the idea."
His smile widened, "Best surprise I've had all year."
And then a knock on the trailer door made both of you glance up. Jack immediately frowned, "Ignore it."
You laughed, "You can't just ignore people."
"Watch me."
The knock came again, followed by a voice from outside.
"Jack?"
He groaned dramatically.
"There it is."
"The famous professionalism."
"Ruined the second you walked in."
Before he could get up, the voice called out again.
"Five more minutes."
Jack lifted a hand toward the door without moving from the couch.
"Got it!"
A muffled response came from the other side before footsteps retreated.
The trailer fell silent once more.
Jack immediately settled back into the cushions.
"You weren't kidding. Five minutes."
"I'm making the most of them."
His fingers were still intertwined with yours.
For someone who spent so much time in front of cameras, he seemed surprisingly content doing absolutely nothing.
Just sitting beside you.
Just being together.
"You know," you said, "everyone out there will probably wonder why you're suddenly in such a good mood."
Jack smirked.
"I've been unbearable all day."
"I believe that."
"One hundred percent true."
He shifted slightly to face you more fully, "Apparently I was complaining."
"Apparently?"
"That's what they told me."
You raised an eyebrow, "And were you?"
Jack considered this and replied, "Maybe."
"Jack."
"Fine. A little."
You laughed.
"A little?"
"Alright, a lot."
The grin he gave you was completely unapologetic. Weeks apart had clearly not improved his patience. His gaze drifted over your face again before he shook his head with a quiet laugh.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"I know."
"Why?"
He looked away for a second, almost embarrassed. Which was unusual enough to catch your attention immediately.
When he looked back, there was something softer in his expression, "I just really missed you."
The words came out simpler than before.
No teasing.
No joke attached.
Just the truth.
Your heart squeezed. You leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm immediately wrapped around you.
Outside, someone shouted directions across the set. A vehicle rumbled somewhere in the distance.
Life kept moving. Schedules, filming, deadlines.
But for a few minutes, tucked away inside the small trailer, none of it felt particularly important.
Jack rested his chin lightly against the top of your head,"You know what's going to happen now?"
"What?"
"I'm going to have to go back to work."
"Tragic."
"Then I'm going to spend the rest of the evening trying to concentrate."
You smiled, "And?"
"And I'm probably going to fail."
A laugh escaped you. Jack's grin returned instantly, "Worth it, though."
Another knock sounded from outside. This time much more insistent.
"Jack!"
He sighed dramatically.
Your laughter only made him shake his head.
"See what you've done?"
"I showed up."
"Exactly."
He stood, reluctantly letting go of your hand before immediately reaching for it again, "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
He opened the trailer door and glanced back at you.
"Back to set."
Then his smile turned warm.
"So I can spend the next few hours showing off the fact that my girlfriend surprised me."
And judging by the proud look on his face, he was already looking forward to it.
Nutritional Label : he likes the way you sound when he’s got you trapped like that.
Calories : 500
Notice .ᐟ first post on this account ! just a filthy blurb with sweet farmer boy remmick inspired by @flixpii !
Content Warning 18+ mdni, unprotected piv sex, choking / breathplay (consensual), light overstimulation, creampie / cum play, size kink, messy sex, light drool
you don’t even get a warning. just the blunt, thick press of his cockhead parting your folds again, already sticky with his last mess, already throbbing as it sinks back inside.
he’s panting before he’s even halfway in, forearm curled around your throat now, tugging you into a headlock that forces your back flush to his chest. your spine arches. your tits bounce with every roll of his hips, the slap-slick sound of skin on skin filling the room like it’s obscene.
“i-i like this,” he whispers, breath trembling as his chest swells against your back. his voice breaks into little gasps each time his cock bottoms out. “like holdin’ you like this… keepin’ you close.”
his cock is fat—too fat—and the stretch has your eyes rolling, your mouth open, drool gathering at the corner of your lips as your thighs tremble beneath you. he’s buried so deep it aches. every slow grind punches breath out of you, the blunt head of him dragging against that swollen spot inside that makes your legs go weak.
you moan, loud and shameless, and his breath catches.
“that feel good?” he mumbles against your shoulder, the arm around your neck flexing just a little, just enough to tighten the hold. “i-i’m doing good?”
you nod, squirming helplessly under him as his strokes grow faster. mess gathers between your legs, a slick squelch every time he fucks into you. his balls slap against your cunt, already wet and swollen from how full he’s made you. the lube of his last climax hasn’t even dried—it’s dripping out of you, leaking down your thighs, coating the base of his shaft in a creamy ring that clings with every thrust.
“s-sorry,” he whimpers suddenly, voice cracking as he hugs you tighter. “can’t help it—it feels too good—too warm—”
his hips are stuttering now, frantic and shallow, his thick cock rutting in and out of your soaked hole like he’s chasing the feeling. your walls spasm around him, and he cries out again—loud, needy, broken.
“please… please let me finish inside again. wanna give it to you. wanna see it drip out after—”
you press your hand to the arm around your throat and whisper, “tighten it.”
he freezes. “you sure?”
“yes.”
the squeeze comes soft at first, just enough to make your breath stutter. then a little more. your vision dims at the edges. your cunt clenches hard.
he groans—high, desperate, barely holding on—his cock pulsing thick and twitching deep inside as he spills. it’s hot. wet. a slow, sticky flood that fills you so full it bubbles out around the base, dripping down your thighs and onto the bed.
his arm is still around your neck. his body’s still pressed tight against your back, flushed and trembling, cock still lodged inside you, too thick to slip out even soft.
“made such a mess,” he breathes, staring down at where he’s buried. “you’re so pretty like this… leakin’ all over me.”
your house is quiet, still. remmick is standing on the porch, looking through your bedroom window. you left the curtains open for him, you always do.
he grins to himself and steps in, kicking off his shoes at the hallway.
he carefully steps into your bedroom, not to wake you up. he doesn’t want to wake you up, not yet, you look so beautiful and peaceful while sleeping.
he lights some candles for light, to see your face better.
then he cuddles up next to you on the bed, pulling you to his chest.
you sigh in your sleep, but don’t wake up. you instinctively lean on him.
remmick starts stroking you gently as you sleep, his hands slowly wandering to your breasts.
he gently squeezes your nipple, making you whimper.
”shh, easy”, remmick cooes.
he descends even more, feeling the wetness of your cunt on his fingers.
”dreamin’ ’bout me?” he chuckles.
he starts circling his thumb on your clit, slowly.
you let out a soft moan in your sleep.
remmick chuckles and keeps going, softly drawing circles on your clit.
you squeeze your thighs together, making the sensation even stronger.
"greedy", remmick says.
he takes his two fingers and shoves them inside you, staring to pump them in and out.
that’s when you wake up.
you part your eyes, seeing remmick next to you.
”w-what..” you mumble. you feel a wetness between your legs, you just squirted on him.
”shh, baby, m’sorry f’ wakin’ ya up”, remmick cooes.
”don’t stop”, you say. remmick smirks.
you feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he hooks them inside you, being knuckle-deep inside your cunt.
you moan and push your head deeper into the pillow.
”she loves it, huh?” remmick chuckles.
you nod, looking at him. he looks so handsome in the candlelight. red eyes fixated on you.
remmick starts going slightly faster, teasing your clit with a force so strong your legs shake, pumping his fingers inside you, wet smacks echoing in your bedroom.
”a-ahh, fuck, remmick-”, you moan.
”that’s it, baby, come f’ me”, remmick cooes.
you do. it’s an overwhelming sensation, running through your body like lightning. your legs are shaking as you squirt more on his fingers.
remmick withdraws his hand from your cunt and pops his wet fingers inside his mouth, moaning around them.
”mmh, fuck, taste like honey”, he purrs.
”i got somethin’ special f’ ya tonight”, remmick says.
”what is it?” you ask him.
remmick takes out rope from the floor.
your eyes widen.
”aww, don’t be scared, baby”, remmick cooes.
he slams your wrist against the bed frame and starts tying you up, repeating the motion with your other wrist.
then it’s your legs, he ties them up as well.
soon you’re completely at his mercy. the rope feels tight around your wrists, and when you try to move, it seems to get even tighter.
remmick climbs on top of you. you’re trembling a bit. ”baby.. ya scared?” he asks. you shake your head. ”liar”, remmick chuckles.
you know he could rip your throat open at any given moment. but he won’t.
remmick starts pulling down his pants, letting his cock free.
it’s big and hard, flushed at the tip, which is already leaking precum.
he lines up, rubbing the tip against your entrance.
then he starts pushing in, slowly. he wants you to feel everything.
you let out a whimper and he bottoms out, balls glued to your ass.
then he starts thrusting, hard and fast.
his hips are snapping against yours in a brutal movement, making your head spin.
”fuck, yes, ya feel so good”, remmick moans.
he leans in, going for a kiss. his lips crash against yours hungrily as he starts licking into you. his tongue goes straight inside your mouth, twirling against your teeth and gums, then against your tongue.
remmick’s moaning inside your mouth, almost desperate.
he suddenly puts his hand around your throat and squeezes hard, making your eyes water.
you can’t breathe.
he keeps choking you while fucking you, his nails digging into your soft skin.
you try to gasp for air, but it’s impossible. you’re starting to feel lightheaded, his grip on you is impossibly strong.
”ya like that, slut?” remmick says with a smug grin.
you do like it.
he finally releases you, and you start immediately panting and coughing.
”aww, poor baby”, remmick cooes. ”ye’re doin’ so good f’ me”, he says.
the rope around your wrists tightens as he slams himself inside you. the bed is shaking.
remmick starts going slightly faster, his pace becoming sloppy.
he leans in and starts kissing on your neck. then come the teeth as he starts gently biting and sucking your neck, leaving behind love marks.
he sinks his teeth into your skin, making you cry out in pain. he licks the blood off, chuckling.
”baby, i’m ’boutta-”, he moans.
then he buries himself deep inside you for one last time, his warm cum pouring inside you in thick ropes.
he crashes on top of you, nibbling on your neck.
”i’m hungry..” he murmurs.
”you know you can do it”, you say.
remmick kisses you softly. ”mm, ye’re so good f’ me”, he purrs.
then he sinks his teeth into your neck again, this time deeper. you scream.
he starts gulping down your blood, slurping loudly.
he’s moaning while drinking your blood, like you’re his salvation.
you’re starting to feel a bit lightheaded from the blood loss, but you don’t tell him to stop.
remmick keeps his hands softly on your cheeks as he drinks, caressing your skin.
then he stops, licking his lips. his mouth and chin are covered with your blood.
”it’s yer turn”, he says. ”what do you mean?” you ask.
remmick bites into his own wrist, letting blood pour out. he holds it on top of your face so that the blood drips on your lips.
”drink”, he says.
you obey, putting your tongue out, swallowing his blood.
it tastes metallic, but there’s also an almost sweet aftertaste.
remmick watches as you drink his blood, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
he wipes your mouth with his fingers and kisses you with his bloody lips.
then he starts releasing you from the restraints.
once you’re free he takes you into his arms and starts giving you a series of clumsy, wet kisses.
”we’re bound now, forever”, he says. ”ya ain’t leavin’ me, ever”, he adds. you nod and breathe in his scent. blood and sweat.
OKK this was short and sweet but hope you enjoyed it!💋
Pairing: Lion Kaminski x single mom! Reader
Summary: Lion had met you struggling to carry a heavy laundry basket full of wet clothes while also trying to hold onto your little boys hand. You and him had started going out, but your little boy is still in want of distance from Lion.
Disclaimer: Mention of verbal abuse, being a single mother, mention of pregnancy, mention of struggling financially, a bunch of fluff like hello, hurt with comfort, socially distant child. Is proof read!!
w/c: 2,052
a/n: I'm still putting off the first thing i started working on, like I'm genuinely struggling with it, its so irritating. I think this idea is cute and I'd honestly like to expand on it (turn it into a mini thing) if the peeps like it sooo LET ME KNOW ❤︎
It irked you every time you looked at the stack of overdue bills crowding the kitchen table. The dryer had broken three weeks ago, and there wasn't enough money sitting in your account to fix it. Three weeks of hauling damp laundry across town, three weeks of stretching groceries until payday, three weeks of pretending you weren't calculating every dollar before falling asleep at night. You tried not to let Charlie notice. Children noticed everything anyway.
You thought about it often during those walks to the laundromat. The warm weather had finally settled in, and the orange glow of sunset always seemed to rush across the sky faster than you expected just a little after 5pm. Charlie was the only thing that made those trips enjoyable. He skipped ahead on the sidewalk, darting from one side to the other, making you nervous every time he got too far in front.
"Charlie, stay where I can see you." You shouted, panting as you carry the heavy load.
"I am!" he called back, grinning as he spun around.
"You are not."
His laughter carried through the evening air as he hurried back toward you.
The familiar chime above the laundromat door rang when you stepped inside. Warm air immediately wrapped around your body. The place smelled like clean laundry, lavender detergent, and hot steam. Commercial dryers hummed steadily in the background while fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
Charlie immediately attached himself to your side again, the excitement of the walk gone the moment strangers were involved. His small green frog rain boots squeaked against the tile floor while he rolled a little red toy car across his arm, making quiet engine noises beneath his breath.
Across the room, Lion looked up. He hadn't expected anyone this late. His eyes landed first on your worn white sneakers, then drifted toward the tiny pair of frog rainboots beside them. He watched Charlie press himself against your hip.
Lion wasn't trying to stare. He just couldn't help it. In his old life, women had always seemed untouchable. Ring girls in glitter and heels standing under bright lights. Perfect smiles. Perfect makeup. You looked nothing like that. You looked like you'd been through it for the day, like you could've crashed an hour ago if you could. And somehow he found himself watching anyway.
His attention shifted when he noticed something resting beside his steel-toed boot. A tiny red toy car. Lion glanced up and caught Charlie staring at it from behind one of the folding tables. The boy froze the second their eyes met. Lion bent down, picked up the little red car, and turned it over in his hand.
"Yours?" he asked quietly, and Charlie nodded. Without another word, Lion crouched down and rolled the car gently across the floor. Charlie hurried forward, grabbed it, and immediately retreated back to your side.
Lion couldn't help the small smile tugging at his mouth. Charlie narrowed his eyes suspiciously while making whispered car sounds, making a classic buzzing sound with his lips. That only made Lion smile more.
That had been the start of everything.
You'd been struggling with the dryer door, trying to keep it open while balancing a basket full of soaking wet clothes against your hip. The machine kept swinging shut every time you turned your attention away from it. "Come on," you muttered. The door slammed closed again. "Seriously?" You groaned. A large hand suddenly caught the edge before it could shut. You looked up. Lion.
"Oh." You said, embarrassment lacing into your words, obvious with the heavy sigh you let out. "You looked like you were fighting it."
Heat crept into your cheeks and flushed your face into your hairline. "I was winning." Lion looked at the overflowing laundry basket, then at you. Then back at the basket.
"You sure?" He asked. You looked annoyed despite yourself, you laughed. "Alright, maybe not. But, I've got it." You insisted but Lion insisted back. "Let me help." Without another word, he took the basket from your arms. Like it weighed absolutely nothing.
You stared.
"Jesus."
"What?"
"That thing's heavy."
Lion shrugged.
"It's laundry." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. For some reason, it made your stomach flutter. Charlie peeked out from behind your leg. Lion noticed.
"Hey there," Lion said and Charlie furrowed his eyebrows, turning his head into your shorts immediately. You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. "Sorry." You said placing your hand on top of Charlies head. Lion shook his head. "Don't be."
And somehow he sounded like he genuinely meant it. He didn't sound like someone who was trying to just dismiss a child's behavior for the sake of the parent. After that, things moved slowly.
You'd started seeing each other. At first it was coffee, then lunches, then dinners. Somewhere along the way it became something more serious. You had tried to keep some distance between the two of you. Partly because you were scared. Partly because Charlie was involved. You kept waiting for Lion to notice and leave. To decide you came with too much baggage.
A struggling single mother. A quiet little boy. A complicated life. But he never left. He noticed. You knew he noticed. Yet he stayed anyway and didn't walk out because it would just be easier then continuing to try.
That scared you more than if he'd walked away. Because if Charlie got attached and Lion left later, it would destroy him. It would destroy you too. Crush you. But Charlie never made getting attached easy.
Normally he was energetic and chatty once he was comfortable. Around Lion, though, he became impossibly quiet. He sat pressed against your side during lunches. He buried his face against your shoulder whenever Lion asked him questions.
"How was school?" Charlie shrugged. "You got any favorite cartoons?" Another shrug. Lion glanced toward you. Charlie immediately looked toward you too. You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
Still, Lion never pushed. Never complained. Never acted annoyed. He simply kept trying. "Got something for you." Lion said. Charlie's eyes immediately narrowed towards Lion with suspension. Lion held out a Matchbox car. The little boy stared at it with want but strong anxiety with the thought of taking it. "You don't have to take it." Lion reassured the young boy, Charlie looked at you.
You nodded, you didn't have to give him approval, he wanted it for himself. Slowly, he reached forward and accepted it. Lion smiled. Charlie clutched the car to his chest, his eyes lingering on Lion. That was enough.
There had been cookies one night after dinner while Charlie slept upstairs. Flour covered half the kitchen. Lion somehow managed to get chocolate chips everywhere.
"How did you even do that?" you laughed.
"I don't know."
"You literally missed the bowl." You said grabbing a rag to clean the mess. "I was trying."
"You were losing."
Lion rolled his eyes.
You laughed harder. Trying not to laugh too loud because of Charlie. Before he left, Lion carefully placed a cookie into a sandwich bag.
"What's that for?" You asked, watching him set it aside. "Charlie." Your heart squeezed painfully. It meant a lot to you that Lion was trying so hard with Charlie, even if Charlie was stubborn and stand-off-ish with Lion. The next morning Charlie found it waiting for him. He never said thank you. But he ate every crumb and asked you about more cookies later.
Sometimes Lion would sit at one end of the couch while Charlie sat at the other. Cartoons played on the television while neither of them said much. Lion never seemed bothered by the silence.
Charlie caught some awful bug near the end of the month. The kind that left him miserable, his tiny body hurting, making him unable to sleep, he couldn't even get comfortable. He spent the entire night sick, crying, and exhausted.
Every time you thought he'd fallen asleep, another coughing fit or wave of nausea woke him up again. His tiny sobs broke your heart. You sat on the bathroom floor holding him while he cried against your shoulder.
"It's okay, baby." You cooed, patting his back.
"I don't feel good." she sobbed, the sob breaking with a cough following a gag before a deep inhale and another sob.
"I know."
Your own eyes burned with exhaustion. The fever came next. Charlie would sweat through his shirt only to start shivering minutes later. The thermometer numbers made your stomach twist. Lion had never taken care of a sick child before. Truthfully, he'd never really taken care of anyone but himself before.
Yet he showed up without hesitation. He made soup. Ran to the pharmacy. Picked up medicine. Helped clean up. He even held onto to Charlie when he got sick when Lion was around and you weren't.
Not because he expected praise. Not because he was trying to earn brownie points. Simply because he cared, not just about you, but Charlie. A few days later you were finally able to go back to work while Charlie recovered at home. Lion stayed with him. The little boy sat bundled beneath a blanket on the couch. His cheeks were still pink from the fever. The sticky Mickey Mouse fever patch was peeling away from his forehead.
The television played quietly in the background. Neither of them were paying much attention. "When are you leaving?" Charlie asked with no clarification. Lion blinked.
"What?"
Charlie kept staring at the television. "When are you gonna leave?" The question caught him completely off guard. He shifted slightly, turning toward the boy. "What'd you mean?" he asked, slightly nervous at the kids words.
Charlie shrugged. "Are you gonna leave?" His voice no longer sounded mousy and instead sounded rough from being sick. For a moment Lion didn't know what to say. Children didn't ask questions like that for no reason.
He leaned back against the couch. "I'm right here." Charlie finally looked at him. Lion held his gaze, it was clear that Charlie was confused. "I don't have any plans on going anywhere." The little boy studied him carefully, like he was trying to figure out if the answer was true. Then Charlie looked back toward the television.
Neither of them spoke again. A few minutes later, Charlie shifted slightly closer. Only a few inches. Lion pretended not to notice. The moment felt too important to scare away.
The payoff for Lion was never being called Dad. It wasn't some grand declaration. It wasn't Charlie suddenly becoming talkative overnight. It was smaller than that. More important than that.
It started with Charlie waving goodbye when Lion left at night. Then asking him for help with things. Then sitting beside him on the couch instead of across from him. Tiny moments. Little pieces of trust that meant everything to Lion.
One evening Lion had stopped by after work. He kissed you softly at the front door before heading home. "See you tomorrow." he murmured..
"Drive safe."
He'd made it halfway down the porch before a tiny voice stopped him.
"Bye, Lion." Charlies small mousy voice echoed.
Everything seemed to freeze. Lion turned. Charlie stood in the doorway clutching one of his toy cars. The little boy lifted his hand and gave an awkward wave. Lion smiled immediately. "Bye, Charlie." Charlie nodded and sprinted away back into the house.
That was it. Nothing dramatic. Nothing huge. Yet it meant more than any title ever could.
Because for the first time, Charlie had spoken to him without being prompted. Nobody reminded him to say thank you. Nobody told him to say goodbye. He'd wanted to. That meant everything.
The moment meant even more a few weeks later. The dryer still wasn't fixed. Life was still busy. Laundry still needed done. Lion had offered to bring Charlie with him while he emptied the change boxes in the laundromat machines.
The three of you walked down the sidewalk together beneath the afternoon sun. Without warning, Charlie squeezed himself between the two of you. You looked down. So did Lion. Charlie slipped one hand into yours. Then reached for Lion's with the other. For a second, neither of you moved. Neither of you wanted to ruin it. The little boy simply kept walking as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Lion thought his heart might stop. Nothing needed to be said, it was simple acceptance.
For the first time, Charlie wasn't just tolerating him. He was choosing him. And as Lion looked down at the tiny hand wrapped around his own, he couldn't think of anything in the world that had ever felt quite so special.
SUM : You invite Lion to your family’s cook out, a small social gathering that was packed with immediate family. He starts to feel a little out of place, unsure if everyone would welcome him. But after a few tries, he finds out that maybe, he belonged after all.
જNOTE : Happy Black History Month! I had this idea since the beginning of Feb, but I didn’t really sit down to write it until last night. I had two drops planned today (a cook fic) but I’m currently sick atm and couldn’t sleep so this was the result of someone who was close to dying. Thanks to my moot @madkingcrowley for beta reading! I went back to fix typos again rip
CREDIT : 18+MDNI!. Black!reader. dad!Lion agenda. P in V. Creampie. Cook out event. Reader doesn’t have any descriptions but I wrote her to be black. Mentions of pregnancy. Girl dad lion only. Riding. Lion has a big dick (cause I said so). Lion has a breeding kink if you squint. Squirting if you squint. A few name drops of “white boy”. (But it’s all for fun) gift credits!
WC: 6.3k
The feeling that hits first when you open the car door is heat. Hot smoldering heat that sticks to your skin like glue. An added layer that already starts the process of sweat forming around your body.
Your daughter, who was strapped in the back in her tiny pink car seat was smiling ear to ear, kicking her little feet with excitement that her body couldn't contain, like a tea kettle ready to pop.
You stepped out from the vehicle, doing a small stretch, happy to be here but a little tired from a two-hour drive.
"You ready?" You called, opening the door on your daughter's side and quickly moving to unlock her seatbelt and the puzzle-like straps of her car seat.
She nodded, already buzzing.
"You think I should have brought drinks?" Lion questioned from the front, taking the keys from the ignition with shaky hands. "Maybe I should have brought a board game? Or some beach balls—"
"Beach balls?"
"Yeah, for the kids to play with. I don't know."
"Baby, you're fine. They will like you." You assured him, "Besides, my aunts usually bring games every time we have this event. Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you rolled your eyes playfully, unclicking the contraption finally and then pulling your daughter into your arms. "I'm sure."
You've been with Lion for a few years now, first as friends. Meeting through a mutual friend who thought you two would hit it off instantly. It did, but it took a while.
You thought he was cute, a little shy, charming in a way that was hard not to notice, but you didn't think he truly liked you. You've never dated, never given men the chance in fear of yourself. Going for so long without knowing what being in love felt, what being wanted felt like, can certainly break someone's perception of reality.
He gave you hints, small texts, and suggestions that you took at face value. Assuming he was being friendly.
Then on your birthday, he was the first to come to you, holding a gift box in his hand— a pretty silver necklace resting inside that you've been eyeing forever.
You almost couldn't believe it.
"You're fucking with me." You gasped, taking the box from his hand with a huge smile plastered on your face.
Something changed that day. You eyed him more. Noticed how often he catered to your well-being. Couldn't believe what was right under your nose even if it hit you in the face and stated it in plain English.
A lot more texting, a few nights out, one drunk incident that led to you both coming back to your place and the rest is history.
Your daughter?
Well, she was new. sitting pretty at two years old and a love for anything that moved faster than her.
You didn't plan her, but she wasn't a mistake either. She was the result of two people in love and you wouldn't have it any other way.
"You're doing it again." You pointed out, noticing Lion mumbling under his breath as you both walked up the stairs to get to the pavilion that was on the other side of the park.
"Shit— Maybe I should go to that store we passed by and see what they have."
"That store was 30 minutes from here."
"If I leave now, I can be back in time—"
"If you leave now, you'll miss out on all the fun," You grabbed his shoulders and stopped walking, forcing him to halt immediately. "Baby, you're going to be fine. I promise."
"What if they don't like me?"
"My mom likes you, that's all that matters to me. If anybody else says something, I'll respectfully curse them out."
"You can't do that."
"Who says I can't?"
Lion sighed through his nose. "I'm trying to make a good impression. And I want your family— your entire family— to like me."
You smiled softly, rubbing light circles against his shoulder with your thumb. "Not everybody is going to like you, the same way I don't like your annoying ass brother."
"Hey—"
"But that doesn't mean I hate him, and it doesn't mean they will hate you. They may have different opinions but they're not the ones dating you with a two-year-old who gives us a run for our money."
Lion swallowed, sighing to himself again. "Okay, okay. I get it."
"Hey, it's alright. My family can be intimidating, I know that first hand," you cupped his cheek. "but you're a charmer. I promise you'll fit in."
He nodded slowly, reaching for your hand to kiss your palm. "Sorry, I just … don't want to disappoint you."
"I'm over disappointments, baby. We're locked in forever." You moved your daughter from your hip, signaling for him to hold his hands out and you passed her over to him. "And you have a cute daughter. Use her to your advantage."
He looked offended, "Are you telling me to bribe my way into your family with my kid?"
"Yup! Now let's go before I die of heat stroke. The sun is burning me up!"
The first person who greeted you was your mom who was sitting on the bench with a handheld fan pointed to her neck. She wasn't doing anything, listening to the 90s song that was blaring through the large Bluetooth speakers someone brought— but the moment she opened her eyes she jumped out of her seat to greet you both.
"There goes my baby!" She shouted, almost knocking you over with a hug.
"I thought you said this started at 2?" You chuckled, squeezing her tightly before pulling back.
"I did. You know how we are. Can't show up on time for nothing." She turned, smiling widely. "And look at my other baby— you hungry?"
Your daughter giggled, squealing when your mom tickled her nose.
"I'm hungry too," Lion added in, laughing when he earned a small shove from you.
"Oh I know," your mom said with her brow raised. "I ain't never seen a boy like you so skinny but can eat the whole table. Where you find this one at again?" She teased you.
"On the streets, begging like a lost puppy." He joked and you shoved him again.
Your mother laughed along with you all. "I can believe it. Come on, I brought my homemade sweet potato pie."
…
It didn't take long for your folks to show up. All carrying different assortments of food, games, or tableware. They came in like waves, quick hollers and special greetings dedicated to whoever was the closest.
You meet a few of your aunts and uncles, cousins from your mom's side, cousins on your dad's side— cousins from all over the place you haven't seen in forever.
You hugged them all the same, sending compliments that never seemed to end.
"I heard you had a baby!" a few of them exclaimed, looking around your legs like one would appear suddenly.
"Yeah, she's somewhere around here with her dad. Probably at the park."
"Aww, you gotta show me her! Your mom said she was a bundle of joy."
"Oh, she is." You agreed. "A joy and a nightmare to have."
"Aren't they all?"
After the fourth cousin asking you about your daughter and boyfriend specifically, it dawned on you that you hadn't seen either of them for about 30 minutes since everyone started popping up.
Odd.
You excused yourself to go find your plus one, looking around at the few familiar faces who were also lounging at the park, watching their kids tumble over dirt and roll down the slide.
You almost missed them until you saw your kid giggling uncontrollably, running straight past you and into the turtle tube that was the perfect place to hide.
"Sweetheart, where'd you go? Daddy's gonna get—" he paused when he saw your stern face, squinting with your lips pulled into a frown.
"Oh."
"Oh is right. Where have you been?"
"Hide and seek." He said, like it should make sense, walking past you to look under the tube. You heard your daughter's voice echoing inside, light gasps and laughter bouncing off the walls.
"There she is! Daddy's gonna eat her right up—"
"Lion."
His voice dropped from that playful pitch, "What?"
"You're avoiding my family."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"We're burning up steam." He pulled your daughter from under the tube, her feet kicking up a storm while she threw her body around in a fit of joy. "You know how wild she gets when she eats your mom's pie."
"I said use your daughter to gain their favor, not to use her as an excuse to stay at the park."
He dusted off her dress with his hand, avoiding eye contact with you. "I wasn't doing that."
"Sure. But you still have to come back. I gotta introduce you to my aunts."
"What if I don't want to meet your aunts?"
You couldn't believe how stubborn he was, rolling excuses off his tongue so easily, it made a vein in your temple pulse. "Walter Kaminski, don't make me get started—"
"Okay! Okay, fine." he huffed, putting your daughter on the ground. He made sure she was perfectly balanced on both legs before letting go but she still ended up tipping sideways, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
You crossed your arm. "Don't give me that attitude."
"What attitude?" He said, voice dropping again. His pretty blue eyes stared into your own.
You knew what trick he was playing.
It won't work.
"The one you're giving me right now."
Your daughter looked up at both of you, giggling uncontrollably.
"You're gonna go up there, act as if you belong and everything will be fine."
"Walk up there? Act as if I belong?" He repeated back, raising a brow. "That easy?"
"That's what I said, didn't I?"
He mumbled something under his breath, reaching down again to pick up his daughter who started reaching for one of you to pick her up.
"What was said?"
"Nothing." He grumbled.
"That's what I thought." You linked your arm with his, the one that wasn't holding your daughter tight on his hips, and pulled him towards the party.
"Smile, shake hands, show them how good a father you are."
The closer you got, the more his jaw locked tighter.
"My family aren’t sharks, that's reserved for people who wrong us. So far, you've done nothing but make me the happiest person in the world."
"What… What if—"
"You'll be fine." You interjected, breaking his worry with a light press against his side. "I'll be with you every step of the way."
The ones who arrived late welcomed you both in, quickly chatting away at the mouth about how big you've grown.
"Oh look at you! Your face hasn't changed in years!" Your aunt beamed, kissing your cheek.
You haven't seen her in a few years. She moved off to California, usually visiting when a funeral is involved. She's your mom's youngest sister, the baby of the bunch. "I swear, you took your mama's face!"
"I get that a lot." You laughed.
Your daughter, who was sitting in Lion’s arm jutting in boredom, started to whine.
"And who might this be?"
"Didn't I tell you? That's my baby's baby." Your mom joined in, sucking her teeth. "I told you on the phone!"
"What?! I thought she was going to be an infant, not a—"
"Two-year-old." You added.
"Why hasn't anybody told me?!"
"I tell you every month, Shonda."
Your aunt rolled her eyes. "I thought you were talking about Ruth's daughter, the one with 18 kids—"
"She has 6."
"Might as well be 18 of em' and multiply that by three and carry the one— she got a whole football team!" She hollered. "Four different baby daddies, a car that one of them drives around leaving her with no gas at the end of the day— I would have beat the bricks off of mine if they turned out that way."
Lion looked at you with the funniest expression in the world. Confusion drawn into his face that made your mom laugh.
"Shonda, can't go around telling people's business like that."
"Why, we're all family. We all know what she's like."
You and your mom glanced at Lion and Shonda immediately shut her mouth.
"Who's this?"
Lion cleared his throat, alternating his daughter to his other hip, reaching his hand out for a handshake. "I-I'm Lion."
"Lion? Colorful nickname."
He nodded slightly. "Y-Yeah."
"Aunt Shonda, this is my boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" She looked between you two and then your daughter. "Ooooh," She smirked slightly, "you're the one who made my sister an old grandma."
"Girl! You were a grandma before me!"
"Don't even try it."
They both started to argue.
"Mom, I'm gonna show Lion around."
Your statement didn't get past either.
You pulled Lion towards the drink station, searching for a juice packet.
"Your Aunt is… something."
"Yeah, she's the stuck-up side of my family. Her husband owns a company in Cali, thinks she's all that."
"I can see that."
You pulled the straw away, removing the plastic and inserting it into the hole. "But she's nice, she sends money on holidays," You handed it off to your daughter who immediately snatched it away, sipping it down. "She sent me that cute lip gloss you said smelled like pineapples."
"The 90-dollar one?!"
"That's her."
Lion followed closely while you searched through the tables, making a plate for yourself and for the little one who kept pointing at the food while she drank her juice.
Just like her daddy, she loved to eat.
You stacked it with macaroni and grilled chicken. Hot dogs and a burger, some potato salad, cornbread, and collard greens. And a slice of homemade red velvet cake.
You passed by a table filled with your uncles and cousins who were playing cards. Small pocket change resting in the middle. A few Ones and fives, and a large twenty sitting as the grand prize of it all.
"Hey!" Your uncle called out, waving you over. "We need an extra player— your cousin Joe left to go get his kids from eating the dirt at the park."
"Sorry, I have a kid to feed—"
"Come on, we got 50 dollars on the line."
With this, this was the perfect opportunity for Lion to ease up.
" I know someone who can fill in."
Lion was quick to walk away before you yanked him back by the collar.
"Damn, you scared of us?" Your uncle laughed, "we not gon rob your lil' ass. We playing spades."
Lion came shuffled back, a few stares on him made his nerves shake. "N-No, I didn't mean that—"
"I'm kidding boy, sit down, have a drink."
"I don't know how to play."
"I'll teach ya."
Lion gulped, looking towards you for help.
"Man," Lion sighed all dramatic like. "My kid is mighty hungry, ain't she?" He directed at you.
You smiled. "Yup, she sure is. Good thing I know how to feed her."
His face deflated.
You took her into your arms while steadying a plate in one hand, used to multitasking and dealing with a grown man and a child.
Your uncle made space on the bench, giving Lion room to slip in. "What's your name white boy?"
"Lion."
"Lion? Y'all sure got some funny names."
"It's um, actually Walter—"
"Even worse!" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Y'all named the lil' kid Bear or some shit?"
Lion looked towards you one last time, like an animal looking to escape its cage. "N-No—"
"Don't worry kid, watch my hands, you'll be okay. Pay attention to that fucker to your left cause he likes to cheat."
"Man, fuck you." Your cousin jumped.
"Ya mama."
The table erupted in a fit of laughter.
"Don't be scared, we don't bite." Your uncle slapped Lion’s back with a heavy thud and he coughed uncontrollably.
"Don't break the boy before we start, Mike!" Your cousin warned.
"My bad lil' Cub— you okay?"
Lion caught his breath, nodding slightly.
"Sorry about that, I used to box back in the day. Still got that heavy hit running through me."
Lion seemed to perk up at that.
"Uncle Mike, Lion here used to box." You chimed in.
"Ohhhh," Your uncle smirked. "Did he now? Whatchu know about boxing, cub?" He elbowed Lion.
"Probably more than you."
It left Lion's mouth so fast he didn't have time to correct himself.
The table went silent, a few of them looking back and forth between each other.
Lion almost shit his pants.
"Hell yeah— white boy, you got a slick mouth. We need that in this game, these Fucks don't know how to play for real." He took the stack of cards and shuffled them in his hands. "We starting! All or nothing!" your uncle shouted, "y'all better not cheat or I'm lightin' all of y'all asses up!"
They started, already talking back to one another. Throwing insults and curses into the air in a messy chaotic game of "whose dick was bigger".
Despite Lion's worries, all doe eyes and wry lips, he blended in with them. Laughing about a joke your uncle made— noting how quick he was with dropping down cards.
He showed him how to play, giving tips and pointers that Lion received with quick nods and grunts.
"See, you gettin' the hang of it." He praised, earning a slight flush to Lions cheeks.
"White boy turning red." Your other cousin pointed out.
"Y'all know how white people turn into a tomato when it gets too hot outside."
Lion sent a retort back that earned a few ohhhs and ahhhs— the type of remark that could step on some toes but nobody minded.
He didn't look back for you, barely turned when your daughter called for him— he was deep into the family game like he belonged.
Because he did belong.
"Have fun." You sang, leaving to find a table for you to sit at.
…
The drive back was filled with soft music, quiet snores from both of your babies who were tucked into their seats— tired from eating and playing all day.
You tapped your fingers against the steering wheel, shuffling through a few soundtracks that alternated from R&B to Pop— even hip-hop. Brandy, Beyoncé, OutKast— anything to keep you from dozing off yourself.
By the time you got home, nobody moved.
You had to tap Lion a few times and he woke up with a heavy yawn.
"We're home," you whispered, reaching to push a few strands of his hair back against his forehead. "Poor baby, my family wore you out, huh?"
He grumbled, saying something incoherent and you tapped him back into consciousness again
"I'll take her out, you go and get settled. The leftovers have to be in the fridge."
He sniffed, nodding to you and unbuckling his seat belt to get out.
You worked your way through the straps of the car seat, cursing at how difficult it always is for you to unbuckle them.
Your daughter was flat as a rock, not even moving when you picked her up and laid her head down on your shoulders.
You locked the car doors, made your way inside, and you heard the shower running, no doubt Lion trying to scrub the sweat off his skin from tumbling in the dirt with your Uncle earlier.
They both had to show each other up.
You took your daughter to the guest bathroom, her clothes and towel in one hand, still knocked out in the other, and you woke her up slowly by brushing her hand against her back. Cooing softly for her to wake up.
It took some time but you got her washed, deciding to undress and join her in the showers. Once you were done, you called out for Lion to take her, asking if he could put her back to bed and he did it without a complaint.
Usually, he did, but your family truly knocked him out of all of his back talk.
After washing, finding some fresh clothes, and slicking yourself up with lotion and oil— you found Lion sitting on the couch with the TV on. The volume was low but the subtitles were flying across the screen.
“Can’t take my eyes off of you for one second.” You teased, walking around the couch to sit down beside him, tucking yourself under his arms with ease. You sighed softly when he maneuvered himself to get comfortable while holding you.
"You know your daughter is asleep?" You said, unsure why he had a kids movie playing, and refused to switch the channel.
"But it's Kung Fu Panda." He whined.
"You're so childish."
"You like your sexy movies filled with your favorite actors— and I like my kids' cartoons."
"I thought my family ran that mouth off of you— looks like you just rested it."
"Watch your mouth," he grinned, "or I'll put something on you."
"And they rubbed off on you too."
You cuddled against him, listening to his soft breathing. Watching the movie with boredom. After a few minutes of the villain kicking ass, showing the audience how powerful he was, you felt a burst of comfort wash over you.
“You know," you started, turning to lay half way in his lap. "My cousins said you were good.”
"Which ones?"
"All of em', my aunts too." You reached up to scratch under his stubble and he melted into your embrace like butter.
"Really?"
You hummed. "A few of my aunts and uncles said you have the prettiest eyes— a lot of my little cousins said you got a cute smile."
"Sounds like competition."
"Oh, it definitely is."
He kissed your forehead, pulling you tight to his chest.
"You did all that worrying for nothing. Now look at you? Part of the family."
He rolled his eyes, chewing his bottom lip. "When's the next gathering?"
"Why? So you can go flirt with my Uncle?"
He huffed a laugh, pinching your thigh playfully. "Don't be jealous he's more interesting than you.
"Not jealous— worried that you'll only stick around cause of my kid and your new bestie."
"I love your kid, I think your Uncle is fun. I'm not going to stick around for two people who can most definitely jump me sooner or later and not have backup." He clicked his teeth, "even if one of them was made by us."
He was only joking but it made your face heat up instantly.
You weren't sure what it was that he said, you weren't even sure if the joke was what made your body react, but you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes and a heavy ache in your chest you've felt for a while.
"What?" He questioned, noticing how quiet you gone.
"Nothing…thinking."
"About?"
"Us."
He reached for the remote from the table beside the couch and turned the TV off.
"Did all that worrying about me, guess it's my turn to worry about you?"
"I'm sorry,"
"For what?"
You sat up, following Lion's lead when he pulled you to straddle his lap. Your thighs caging his hips and your chest pressed against his.
He tilted his head, blue eyes wandering over your face in confusion.
"I think about us a lot, and her. What we're doing and how things played out."
"And?"
"And seeing you bond with my family was great. It made me happy."
"But?"
You looked away. "There isn't a but, not specifically. I'm just doubting things that may or may not happen."
He pursed his lips. "You think I'm gonna leave you for someone else?"
"I don't know. Maybe? Maybe not."
"Fuck out of here— you really think I'm that low?"
"No. Not you," you sighed heavily. "Forget it."
Before you could pull away, he grabbed the back of your neck with his large hands, turning you to face him again.
"Can't drop all that and then decide to try and run away."
"Lion."
He said your name with full weight. "Don't get me started." He mocked your common phrase, with a neck roll too— earning an offended gasp from you.
"I don't sound like that!"
"Yeah, you do, all full of attitude when you can't have your way with me."
"Don't make me—"
He pulled you in suddenly for a kiss, his lips mashing against yours like Play-Doh. You instantly forget what you were going to say, moaning into the kiss when he turned your head to the side to deepen it.
He pulled back, a whiny moan slipped from your mouth, and his lips ghosted over yours— refusing to give you what you wanted so easily.
"You're my world— gave me a second life that I never thought was possible. I'm not sure what I'd be doing if I didn't have you and her."
"Stop," you tried to lean in to kiss him but he held you back firmly. "You're just saying that."
"I fucking mean that."
Your heart jumped.
His eyes held yours.
And you both basked in the silence, The atmosphere light.
You couldn't stop your thighs from crushing against his hips, an involuntary action that he noticed straight away.
"You got her face,” He grinned, leaning in to press a light kiss against your neck. "And her eyes, and her laugh—"
"She's got my face." You mumbled, "I'm the blueprint."
His lips tracked up until he kissed you fully again, his free hand wandering over your backside, slowly dropping towards your ass to give it a light squeeze.
You giggled lightly, slapping his chest playfully.
"Baby— she's asleep— "
"I know— fuck, I know." He breathed, sliding his hand down to meet your hips, letting them dip under your shirt to feel your warm skin. "She's a hard sleeper, she could probably sleep through a hurricane."
"But this isn't a hurricane, it's her parents getting freaky on the couch."
"That's like a hurricane."
"Please don't compare us fucking to a Hurricane."
"We got wind, water, rapid speeds—"
You slapped his chest harder this time. "Boy, shut up."
He ignored your insult by pulling your shirt up halfway, maneuvering his hand to dip under your nightgown.
"Lion—"
“Want another one—" He looked at you like you held the moon and stars. "A baby who looks like you and me.”
"Your daughter just turned two—" you squeaked, feeling his teeth catch against skin.
"Two years sounds perfect." He pulled you down into him, kissing along your cheek.
"H-How far apart are you and your brother again?"
"Ten years," He slipped his hand into your underwear to feel heat press against his fingers. "That's too long for me."
You moaned softly, catching your weight against his shoulders while his hands got to work quickly, rolling the pads of his fingers over your clit.
"F-Fuck— w-wait—"
"Need you to stay right here, wanna watch you come on my fingers."
You rocked your hips forward, pressing down on his hand while he followed your every step. Kissing along your jawline, slipping two fingers into your wet pussy that was already aching so very badly to be filled.
His free hand caught one of your breasts through the fabric of your gown, squeezing and tugging while his thumb rolled over your nipples in wide circles.
"B-Baby— I j-just showered— I'm tired—"
His lips found yours again, tongue dragging against each other without a care for your protest.
He pulled your hips back to grind against his hand, his palm swallowing your cunt— clit rubbing halfway against his wrist. Leaving a trail of wetness that made it easier to grind down faster.
"Got two pretty girls in my world— don't think I could ever get enough—" he moaned into your mouth, curling his fingers to feel your walls contract around him.
You cried out, biting his lip accidentally but he didn't break free— in fact, he welcomed it. Groaning under you.
"L-Lion— fuckk— t-too much—"
"Don't care— w-wanna feel you," He slipped another finger in— three that made your cunt cry and you came on him. Rocking your hips with quick jerks. Moaning his name in hushed pants.
When he pulled his fingers away, letting you sit up from his lap, you were already working his jogger pants down. barely tugging them down his thighs. Biting your lips with anticipation when he pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side with slicked fingers, using the hand that was on your hips to angle his flushed tip to your entrance.
"Thought you were too tired?" He grinned, taking in your trembling form while you lowered yourself to sit on his cock.
"S-Shut up—oh."
The stretch was always so daunting.
No matter how many times you two got intimate. You could never get used to the size of him.
You thought after having a baby it would loosen something— Hell, you hoped it would make your pussy into a dome.
But God got a kick out of making you suffer.
The more you lowered yourself, the more your tummy burned— thinking back on that night he clumsily took your virginity without even knowing the next morning until you told him.
You sucked it up then, not wanting to ruin the moment— now? You sent waves of curses that made Lion scared to stop you.
"Easy— E-Easy," he groaned heavily, your walls catching around him in a tight fist. "Don't force yourself—"
"Y-Your not the— fucking— o-ne — being penetrated—" you gasped, "I pushed out a—" you bucked your hips, legs tensing. "H-Heavy ass baby— and what— do I get for it?"
"A cute ass daughter." He answered, but he gulped when you eyed him with a cracked smile.
Once you were finally seated— you panted like you were done running a marathon. Relaxing around him. Hoping that the thickness will ease soon.
His thumb pressed against your clit and you popped his hand. Sending a quick yelp from his mouth.
"T-Too— sensitive."
"You gotta move— lemme help."
"No—"
He held you tight while he slouched down on the couch, the angle perfect for him to use his legs to fuck up into you. Leaving you to squat on him the whole time and not worry about moving at all.
"G-Gonna move—" he panted, holding your hips with both hands, pulling at the soft skin of fat.
"W-Wait—"
"Done waiting— wanna take you r-right now."
He pulled you up, your forehead knocking against his and he brought you down steadily, moaning softly at the new friction— sucking in a breath when your nails dug into his shoulders.
"F-Fuck— hold on to me— don't let go—"
He continued to bring you down steadily, gaining a rhythm that made soft moans drip from your mouth and into his ears. He stared up at your twisted expression of pleasure, feeling you pulse around his cock— heat building in his chest with how fucking hot you were.
How did he ever make a kid with you?
"L-Lion— you're too b-big—" you gasped softly, resting your forehead against his instead, letting him rock up into your tight cunt like it was made for him. "G-Gonna split m-me open—"
He nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to, but he liked the thought of both. A permanent reminder that you were locked with him forever.
"Y-Yeah? I know baby— I know your greedy pussy c-can't handle me—" he beamed with sick pride, bringing your hips down faster. "Got your mind all twisted— can't get me out of your head—"
"J-Jesus— Lion—"
“Gonna fuck you raw— make sure it t-takes—“ he brought you down harder, slipping in with familiar ease, face curling with warmth when he looked between your bodies to see a slick web pop connect over and over. “shhitt— that’s it—take me all the wayyyy in" he cursed under his breath. "Feels like forever—"
Your walls stretch to accommodate him, thighs spreading further to feel him deeper. "W-We did it last week—"
"Too—fucking— long." He snapped.
Your pussy stuttered around him, begging for mercy— crying on him in wet drips and pulses that he took as a reward for fucking you perfectly.
“W-Wanna have another kid with your eyes— your f-fucking nose.” He groaned, bringing your hips down to meet his lap— not breaking his hypnotizing speed. "G-Gonna fuck— fucking— fuckkk— a baby into you— keep you all to myself—"
"D-Don't stop—" you groaned. Feeling his cock dig into your stomach with unrelenting punches against your pretty little cervix.
“Girl or a b-boy— doesn't fucking matter—" he squeezed your hips tighter, forcing you to take him down in one go before pulling you up to catch around his swollen tip.
You almost screamed, thighs shaking with tremors, until he quickly covered your mouth. Feeling your voice vibrate against his palm.
He slammed you down into his lap, felt your voice shake, and waited until you begged for him to keep going with his hips moving on their own.
His hands were back on you again, wet slaps echoing between your bodies. His hips ramming into you making you dizzy with pleasure and heavy need.
"W-Want you to be their momma—“ he panted.
And your cunt pulsed before you could stop it.
Lion grinned, all teeth and ego boasted to 100 degrees. “Shit baby— You like that, huh?" He teased. "Like being called momma even when our kid isn't here?"
Your face burned. Tension building in your stomach at every hard knock against your walls. "S-Shut up—" you whined, biting your lower lip— quickly tucking your head between his shoulders to lower the damage done.
"My baby embarrassed?" He laughed, his voice twisting when you squeezed around him.
"Your s-so annoying— fuckk— you’re so—"
"I- I know. I know—" he groaned out loud when your pussy came down on him in heavy blows that made his head spin.
He hooked one arm under your thighs to spread you open further, his cock digging a new womb into your stomach and you couldn't take it anymore.
"Shit— shit— shit—" you chanted, unable to find any words to describe what you were feeling. "H-Holy fuckkk— oh goddd— I'm gonna— L-Lion—" you screamed into his shoulders, biting down on his shirt like a rabid dog.
"K-Keep calling me— there you go— feel me all the way in there baby?" he trembled, the tip of his cock punching against your cervix like it was angry that you were made just for him.
He didn't give you a warning.
Didn't send a notice.
He didn't need to.
You couldn't get rid of him anyways.
He shuddered under you and came with a long drawn out growl, still slamming your hips down to milk himself dry— not caring how swollen you were with him already.
Your pussy was filled to the brim with him, warm and inviting, your body stirring up some kind of relief that it did its job. That it held out for so long to feel him beat against your walls with milky white.
He didn't say anything during that, nothing but soft moans and groans, planting light kisses against your mouth that you accepted fully— his hips still rutting into you, trying to catch the last of his orgasm.
You both rested there on the couch, intertwined together like messy cable cords that refused to untangle. Sweat mixed together— a shameful wet splatter in his lap from over stimulation.
Tiredness rolled over your body in soft waves.
He rested your knees back down on the couch, refusing to sit up, cock finding a home in your swollen cunt.
When he finally spoke, it came out small and raspy. Low enough for you to only hear. "Did…um, Did I over do it?"
You shook your head, breathing against his neck in small dips. "You did good."
He rubbed soothing circles over your hips. "Should we start picking out names?"
His question made you jump.
"Wait— you were serious about that?"
He tilted his head. "What else?"
" Lion… I don't know— I mean, I love my daughter but a second one?" You almost got whiplash when you sat up, still hovering over him. "My body hasn't fully recovered yet."
He moved his hand to run along the stretch marks gracing your stomach, all in different sizes and shades. Some longer than others and slicked in strips traveling down below your belly.
"Your body is perfect— you carried to full term—"
"Yeah, but it was hell getting there. I gained weight, dropped it— my blood pressure kept sky rocketing every other month—"
"But you did it."
You looked at him like he had grown two heads.
"You gave me a beautiful baby girl— showed me what being a dad is like. Showed me what being loved is like." He pulled your hands into his, sitting up with you perched in his lap, threading your fingers together. "I want to build a family with you."
Your eyes went wide.
"I love you."
You chewed the inside of your mouth, looking down between your bodies. Eyes catching at the sweat and heat linger on both of your skins.
You were quiet for a second, mulling over the many different scenarios that could play out if you said no…or yes.
" I…I love you too," you pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "But…"
Lion felt his heart ache.
You squeezed your hand around his, assuring him. "Let's…plan this one. Okay? For real this time."
He nodded slowly, a little upset, but your smile brought his own to tug at his lips.
"Maybe I shouldn't have came inside…"
"I never told you to stop."
He leaned in to kiss you, his cock jerking back to life.
"Lion!" You gasped, "no way— I'm fucking tired."
"I'm not doing that."
"Who else?"
"It has a mind of its own. I don't tell it what to do."
