Multi-Fandom One Shots

Always Wanted a Baby (Marissa Wiegler) NSFW

You often wondered if ambition was a requirement to work for the government. As a Special Agent for the CIA, Marissa quite literally had the world in at her fingertips. But with great power came great stressors. As another of her informants grew a spine at the most inopportune time, her entire project was put at risk and Marissa got to spend the majority of the afternoon in corporate meetings, trying to convince her visionless superiors that it was not only still possible, but necessary to help their country.

By the skin of her teeth, she kept the project. But a day's worth of progress would never be seen again. That failure alone made Marissa want to pull each of her teeth out. She ground them the entire drive home. Once in her driveway, the redhead took a few deep breaths, transitioning from CIA agent to relaxed... human. She entered the home and found the love of her life in the kitchen.

You'd just finished the dishes and put them away.

A sudden weight pinned you to the counter, a Southern drawl greeting, "Evenin', darlin'." She pressed a brief kiss to your cheek.

"Hello, my love," you answered. "How was your day?"

"Classified."

You sighed, really sick of that response. You stepped out of her arms, going to dry your hands.

"Dear?"

"Can't you make something up? Get as close to the truth as you can?"

Marissa followed, but you continually avoided her. The redhead quickly lost her patience and cupped your face. She pressed her lips to yours. You relaxed once her presence sunk in. She felt the tension dissipate and pulled back. "Better. Supper?"

Your weak gaze flicked up to her confident smile. "Oven."

She eased over to the stove and bent. You got an eyeful as she opened the door. Two identical plates sat on a cookie sheet. Smiling broadly, Marissa stood tall and shut it back. You frowned in confusion. The ginger turned to you. "Well, that explains it. You're fussy because there's nothing in your tummy."

You stood straighter, neck tensing with offense.

Marissa walked from the room, crooking a finger at you to follow. "Come on, darlin'."

"You are the most-" You only obeyed because she couldn't hear your complaints from the kitchen in the living room. "'Fussy'?!" you echoed her word choice, still offended. "I am not a child, Marissa." You stared at the woman she she sat, but the fury in your eyes never faded. "You may want one, and I may let you treat me like one in bed, but we're in the real world." The ginger sat back easy as she pleased, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. "You're late for supper - didn't call ahead, or at all today! - and now you're condescending me. I'm not some witness, and I'm not an infant."

Marissa's skin was flawless, and it wasn't possible for you to ignore it. Her skin was not unmarred, raked by pale stripes. One marked her shoulder and many shone like the moon, up and down her left arm. Her underthings were a sharp red like her hair, even the front-clasp brassiere. Her perfect hands smoothly unsnapped and the cups fell loosely at her sides.

"And you can't just-"

Marissa let the bra fall from her arms. She watched your resolute gaze soften and fall to her tits. She lifted her hips and slipped her pants off. Once again, she flicked her fingers for you to come to her.

You were helpless but to obey, eyes locked on God's finest creation. You stepped closer, anger forgotten as you went to crawl onto her lap. "Ah-aah..." she scolded before directing, "As the day you were born." It was her concise and conservative way of ordering you to strip.

You were naked, barring your bra, in an instant, straddling Marissa on your knees.

Marissa reached up for your face, fingertips tracing the lines and ridges. Her thumb slipped into your mouth, and she smirked when she felt the pool of spit on your tongue. Drooling baby. She pulled you closer by her hold on your mandible. You were hunched over, latched onto her nipple, but the satisfaction overpowered the uncomfortable position. Every problem of the outside world melted while sucking on Marissa. The redhead's left hand came up and around to pet your head. She groaned when you did, equally affected. Marissa had always wanted a baby. A capable higher-up in the CIA, she had tried IVF for years to no avail. You briefly thought about trying a round to give her a baby, but you wondered if she specifically wanted to have and carry a baby. With no answers and no result, Marissa just had you, a girl she'd fallen in love with, who happened to need a mommy, she noticed.

So Marissa was yours. And, right now, Marissa needed to be a mommy. Her recliner rocked, which further added to the moment. She stroked your hair and rubbed your back, cooing softly. "Thaat's it. Let go. Let mommy give you everything." The weight of you on her lap, you drinking in, needing her, her soothing your irritation, it was all she needed. Her heart calmed and relaxed, simultaneously feeling full of love at the experience.

With every rock backwards, you left more of your weight on the woman beneath you. You were naked and cold, and the only place you felt warm was where your hair rested against your chilled skin and where Marissa touched you. The hand touching you so soothingly was ghosting teasingly along your sides, arms, legs, anywhere she could tease. Her first firm touch was her palm squeezing your tit.

You gasped, sucking that tiny bit harder. Your teeth clamped around her nipple as a pathetic whine vibrated through her breast and down to her core. Marissa gritted her jaw, taking a deep breath. The pain was sweet, but unexpected. Though she should have expected it since you weren't a baby. You had teeth and you reacted. The agent very suddenly hauled you further up her again. You'd slid down her as you relaxed. You opened your eyes and unlatched. Were you done? You couldn't tell; it wasn't like she actually had any milk. You straightened, opening your mouth to question her, but Marissa moved faster.

The ginger took your face, bringing you back down. "No, no, no. Come back."

Again you tried to speak.

Marissa stuffed her fingers into your mouth. "Sh," she tried to order, keeping her voice soft like she were speaking to a stray. "Let me." She brought her hand free, leaving her index finger for you to suckle on. And you did. As expected, you jumped at the chance to satisfy your age old oral fixation. She brought you back to her breast, transferring her finger for her neglected nipple.

You eagerly latched on, suckling like your life depended on it, whining in pathetic confusion. As your tongue flicked over her bud in apology at your misunderstanding, the hand cupping your bare ass moved to explore wet folds. You whined again, for a very different reason, just before she slipped inside you. Your continuous moan dropped her tit from your mouth. You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, pressing along the redhead as she worked you over. She sped up and you instinctively arched. Which played right into Marissa's plans.

She guided her breast back into your mouth again, maneuvering so she could comfortably fuck you as she nursed you. Marissa's breath shallowed as one of her fantasies was fulfilled. "That's it," she whispered in a sultry tone. "Let go. My needy baby..." her breath hitched with a moan of her own, "letting me Mommy," she groaned out. You started gyrating subtly and she starting pumping with purpose, curling her fingers. She felt you flutter around her. "Give me that. Let me... do the thinking. Let me have you, darlin'." She groaned gutturally as you clenched, clamping down in every sense of the word. Marissa had to push through your contracting walls, sending sparks up your spine. You sucked fiercely at her tit, the only grounding force amidst the euphoria sending you flying. When you went lax against her, a part of Marissa relaxed. The part of her needing to mother relieved, she relaxed her grip on you. Still, you didn't move. It warmed her heart so.

The ginger scooped you up into her arms and carried you to your shared room. You were just as limp on the bed as you were on the redhead. She stepped back, going to gather supplies to clean you up with. Just before she left, she caught sight of your reddened and puffy lips with coagulated slick dripping onto your thighs. She had a better idea on how to clean you up, but held off due to how weak you already were.