skin - ds36 x reader
★ A/N - NO ONE LAUGH. it's been since like 2021 since i have written anything & this is my first time ever writing smut so if it's ass... i'm sorry. i'm just a woman in love with davis schneider and there is no FICS FOR HIM I HAD TO TAKE IT UPON MYSELF.💔
☾ warnings - soft dom, unprotected p in v (please don't), oral (f receiving), davis lowk neglectful but locks in (trust), this is such a mundane little slice of life, not properly proofread, guys idk how to do warnings... it's just soft smut w/ a little whimpering davis action LMFAO.
✽ word count - 4082
Davis doesn’t even notice at first.
He’s stretched out on the couch, one arm slung over his eyes, phone still in his hand like he fell asleep mid-scroll. His duffel bag is half-unzipped by the door, cleats peeking out, the faint smell of grass and stadium dirt clinging to everything he owns. It’s only been a few hours since he got back from another road trip with the Jays, and already you can feel the distance in him. Like his mind is still somewhere else instead of on the girl in front of him.
You stand there for a second, just looking at him, head cocked to the side.
You missed him in that quiet, aching way that builds up over time. Not dramatic or loud. Just… constant. Like something in your chest has been weighing heavy on you for weeks.
“Hey,” you say softly.
He hums, barely awake. “Hm… hey, baby.”
That’s it.
No reaching for you. No opening his eyes. Just a tired voice and a half-acknowledgment that makes your chest ache more than you want to admit.
So you don’t ask for his attention, you just take it.
You walk over and climb onto the couch, gently lifting his arm so you can slide underneath it. Pressing yourself into his side, tucking your head under his chin, your leg draped over his, anchoring him here. Your fingers curl into his shirt without thinking, like you need proof he’s real and not about to disappear again.
He shifts a little, surprised, but doesn’t pull away.
“Hi,” he murmurs again, softer this time.
“Hi,” you whisper back, but you don’t move. You press closer.
For a second, he just lets you.
Then his hand finally moves. It slides slowly down your arm, warm and familiar, like he’s remembering you piece by piece. His fingers trace lazy patterns over the sleeve of your hoodie, your shoulder, and your back.
You nuzzle into his neck, breathing him in like you’ve been holding your breath for weeks. Your hand slips under his shirt, resting flat against his stomach, just feeling him, his happy trail, his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breath.
“I missed you,” you mumble against his skin.
That’s what gets him.
His arm tightens around you, pulling you in properly this time, no longer hazed and distracted.
“I know,” he says quietly, using his right hand to tuck a few loose strands behind your ear. “I missed you too.”
You shake your head against him. “No. Like… really missed you.”
There’s a pause, hand frozen in your hair.
You can feel the exact moment it clicks for him that you’re not just being soft, you’re being serious. That the distance actually got to you.
His hand moves to your face, gently guiding you to look up at him. His eyes are still heavy with exhaustion, but they’re focused now on you.
He shifts, pulling you fully on top of him, one arm wrapped tight around your back, the other cradling your head against his chest.
You melt instantly.
This is what you’ve been waiting for. What you’ve been needing.
Not the texts. Not the quick calls squeezed in between games. This. The weight of him, the warmth, the way his heartbeat feels steady under your cheek.
“You’re clingy today,” he teases softly, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“Yeah,” you admit, not even pretending otherwise. “I am.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, but there’s nothing teasing about it. Just something soft. His hand keeps moving, slow and steady along your back. His chin rests on top of your head. Every so often, he presses soft kisses into your hair, your temple, wherever he can reach without moving too much.
You can feel yourself softening out, like you didn’t realize how tense you were until now.
“You’re not allowed to leave again,” you mumble, your voice going sleepy.
“Pretty sure my contract disagrees,” he says.
You blow air into his chest, tickling him.
“Hey…” he laughs, tightening his hold on you. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to come back faster.”
“Not good enough.”
“Then I’ll call more.”
“Still not good enough.”
He shifts slightly beneath you. “What would you like, then?”
You lift your head just enough to look at him, your expression soft but stubborn.
“This,” you say, settling back into him. “Just… this. When you’re here, I want all of you.”
“You have all of me,” he says quietly.
You don’t answer right away.
Because you believe it, but there’s still this lingering ache in you, like you need him to show you, not just say it.
So instead, you shift slightly, pressing closer, your fingers trailing a little more deliberately along his stomach this time. You feel the way his breath catches just barely, but enough.
“Do I?” you murmur, your voice soft against his chest.
His fingers slide under the hem of your hoodie, brushing against your skin, warm and careful like he’s testing the moment, making sure you’re still right here with him.
“I’m right here,” he says, but his voice has changed into something lower and steadier.
“Mm,” you hum, not quite convinced, your nose brushing along his neck again. “You were somewhere else a minute ago.”
“I was tired,” he murmurs.
“I know,” you whisper. “But I’m here now. In front of you.”
That lands.
You feel it in the way his arm tightens around you again, in the way his hand doesn’t just rest on your skin anymore.
“I can show you, if that’s what you’re looking for,” he says quietly.
You soften, tilting your head up just enough, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw, pressing a lingering kiss to his stubble.
He exhales slowly.
“Is that what you want?” he murmurs, his free hand sliding up to comb lightly in your hair as he tilts your face toward his.
This time when he looks at you, he’s fully there.
You nod.
“C’mere,” he says again, softer now.
His head tilts ever so slightly before he pulls you into a kiss.
It’s not rushed. Not urgent in that messy, overwhelming way.
It’s slow and careful.
Like he’s trying to apologize without saying the words. Not that he wouldn’t, but because you deserve more than just words.
His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along your skin as his lips move against yours, warm and familiar but just a little hesitant at first, until you press closer and deepen it.
His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer against him, his other hand sliding along your waist.
There’s something softer underneath it all. Something that feels like he’s making up for lost time.
You break the kiss just enough to breathe, your forehead resting against his.
“Missed this,” you whisper.
“Me too, baby.”
Your fingers curl into his shirt again, but this time you’re not checking if he’s real.
His lips trail down your jaw, to your neck, nipping at your skin
You inhale sharply, your fingers tightening in his shirt as your head tips back just enough to give him more room. He hums against you, like he missed this too.
“Davis…” you breathe, barely more than a whisper.
His name feels different like this. Softer. Heavier.
His hand slides up your side, slow and warm, thumb brushing against your ribs, stopping right below your tits, like he can’t decide whether to take your hoodie off or just stay right here, in this moment.
“Yeah?” he murmurs against your neck, his voice low, rough with fatigue.
You don’t answer right away.
You can’t, so instead, you shift against him, separating for a moment, hands moving to the hem of his shirt to pull it over his shoulders, still leaning into him like you don’t want an inch of space between your bodies.
His mouth immediately reconnecting with your neck like a magnet.
A soft gasp breaks from within your throat.
His grip tightens, one hand pressing more firmly into your waist, his hips gently rocking against you.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs softly, brushing his nose against yours before pressing another slow kiss to your lips.
When he pulls away, he brings his hands from under your hoodie, toying with the hem while silently waiting for your permission.
“Baby, please.”
The way it leaves your mouth makes something in his expression shift instantly.
His jaw tightens just a little, his soft brown eyes darkening as they flick over your face, like he’s taking you in properly for the first time since he got back. His hands don’t rush, but they’re not hesitant anymore. They slide under the hem of your hoodie and lift it slowly, his knuckles grazing your skin in a way that makes you shiver. He watches your face the whole time, like he’s memorizing every reaction, every breath.
You let him.
The second the fabric is gone, his hands are back on you firmer now, spreading along your sides like he needs to feel all of you at once.
“God…” he exhales under his breath.
The sound sends a rush straight through you.
You lean into him without thinking, your hands moving from his shoulders down so your palms flatten against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the solidness of him.
He lets out a low breath when you touch him, how your hips are barely creating enough friction for his liking, his head tipping back for half a second before his eyes come right back to you.
And then his hands tighten.
Not enough to hurt, but just enough to keep you exactly where you are as his hips shift up against yours again, harder this time, more deliberate so you can feel every inch of him.
A soft sound slips out of you before you can stop it.
“Davis…”
“Yeah, feel that?” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, his forehead pressing against yours as a high whine leaves your throat. “I know.”
His hands pushing you harder down onto his lap, mouth finds yours again, deeper this time, less careful. Not rushed but hungry in a way that makes your stomach flip. One of his hands slides up your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into him like he needs the closeness just as much as you do.
You move with him without thinking, your body already responding, already leaning into every touch and shift.
“I missed this,” you breathe against his lips again, barely able to get the words out.
“I know,” he says, but it comes out more like a quiet groan this time, his mouth dropping to your jaw, then your neck again, slower, more intent.
The hand between your shoulder blades grabs at your bra’s clasp, with ease unhooks it, and helps you shrug it off before it drifts along your side and then back around your waist, gripping a little tighter as he pulls you to press your bare tits to his chest.
You cling to him, fingers digging slightly into his shoulders, your head tipping back as his mouth presses into the spot just below your ear.
A breath breaks out of you, shaky, your grip tightening, like you need something to hold onto.
“Need you,” you whisper, impatient and needy for his touch.
He answers without words instead, with the way his hands tighten on your waist and the way he keeps you right there, rocking against him, like he doesn’t want even a second of distance between you.
“Missed hearing you like that, pretty girl.” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and uneven.
Heat rushes through you at that, and you shift instinctively, closer, pressing into him. A moan escapes from you, making his breath catch again.
“Yeah?” he exhales, his forehead brushing against your jaw for a second before he pulls back just enough to look at you.
There’s something different in his eyes now, something soft but needy and wanting.
His hand slides up your back again, slower this time, fingertips tracing along your spine then back down before settling at your hip, rubbing at your shorts.
“Can I?” he gently asks, glancing down at the waistband.
You nod, a little too quickly. “Yes… please.”
His fingers hook lightly into the waistband, slow and deliberate, giving you time to stop him if you want to.
You don’t.
If anything, you lift your hips just slightly, helping him, needing him closer in every way you can get.
“You’re perfect," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.
There’s something careful in the way he moves, even with the tension between you, like he doesn’t want to rush through this.
His hand doesn’t leave you after, settling warm against your hip again, thumb brushing slow, absent patterns into your skin.
Like he’s making sure you’re still right here.
You lean into him, your forehead dropping to his shoulder, your breath still uneven as you try to steady yourself.
“Look at me,” he murmurs softly.
You do and whatever hesitation was left in him disappears.
Davis gently lifts you off to the side so he can tug both his shorts and briefs down his waist and off, freeing his cock, tossing them somewhere in the room.
“Lay down for me, baby.”
Shifting your body over to lie flat over the length of your shared couch, he adjusts to hover above your body, his mouth latching onto your neck again, slower this time, more deliberate, like he’s taking his time with you.
His mouth starts to wander with his hands, grabbing at your tits before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking lightly, and humming while toying with the other between his fingers.
“Oh god," you breathe out.
Your head tilts back, your body immediately responding, already reaching for him without thinking.
You feel his lashes flutter against you at the sound. His hands don’t stay still, moving over you with more confidence now, more certainty, remembering exactly how you like to be touched. He releases you from his mouth before continuing down your ribs, to your stomach, to your hips, his moustache gently scratching down your torso as he leaves no spot unkissed.
He lifts his head just enough to look at you again, his hand coming up to your hip, rubbing affectionately, guiding your gaze back to his.
“Focus on me,” he says quietly before kissing your hipbone, trailing to your inner thigh, nipping at the softer skin before licking a stripe through the center of your folds, causing your back to arch, hands instinctively reaching for his hair.
A high whine breaks out from your throat as his lips close around your clit to suck lightly.
“Fuck, Davis.”
His tongue begins to lap at your cunt like he’s practically making out with it, hands gripping at your hips to keep them from jolting up.
“Please don’t stop,” you breath out, barely audible.
His response is immediate.
His arms tighten around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face, anchoring you there as he opens you up on his tongue, taking his time with every inch of you. His breathing becoming heavy with every second he spent between your thighs, like he didn’t realize how much he had been missing this until he tasted you.
Your hands are frantically combing through his messy brown hair, practically holding him against your pussy when you feel the knot in your stomach pulling taut. He resists against you, pulling his face a few inches away to look back up at you, causing you to sob softly.
“Shhh… gonna cum for me, baby? Wanna make a mess on my face?” he coos, feeling his hot breath against your core, trailing kisses along either side of your inner thighs, close enough to tease.
All you can get out is a strangled moan, hips lifting in a sad attempt to regain his attention where you need him most.
A low chuckle leaves his throat before he blows a soft stream of air on your clit. His mouth latches back onto you, tongue working quicker than before, his stubble scraping abrasively at your skin, heightening your senses.
"M'close," you breathe out.
His tongue continues to map you out, nipping every so often, forcing a moan out of you. Your thighs are thrown over his shoulders and wrapped around his head, his hips rutting against the sofa, seeking any type of friction, your noises causing him to lose any last hint of shame he carried. The heat building in your stomach was hot and uncontrolled, your hands reaching around for anything to grab onto.
“Holy shit, Davis," you gasp as you feel his finger slide into your warm cunt, curling it, before adding another, stretching you out. Your hand flew to your mouth to bite, a sad attempt to muffle the noises that were escaping your lungs. His lips releasing your clit, fingers still plunged in you but no longer moving, he looks up at you. His mouth and moustache are coated in you.
“Take your hand out of your mouth, I want to hear you."
A look of guilt washed over your face before you slowly lowered your hand back down to comb through his hair. A soft smile spread across his face before he continued his abuse on your pussy.
“That’s my girl.” his words bringing the pressure in your stomach to its peak.
“Cumming—please don’t stop,” you babbled, legs tightening around his head, back arching off the plush couch.
He didn’t stop, he licked you through each wave, fingers working you till overstimulation. The air from your lungs felt like it was being knocked out, your legs helplessly vibrating as you came down. Leaving one last kiss to your cunt and pulling his fingers out, licking them clean of your cum before pushing himself up, pulling your legs off his shoulders, and gently placing them to either side of him.
“You’re such a good girl for me," he mumbles against your tummy as he trails hungry, openmouthed kisses back up from your neck to your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue.
A tiny whimper escapes you as he nudges the inside of your knee gently, signaling for you to open up and make more room for him. Your body felt light and airy, head fogged over, legs still slightly trembling. One hand pinned next to your head, he reaches down to wrap a hand around his cock, stroking it twice, needy and leaking with precum, before tapping his tip against your clit.
“This okay?” His eyes meeting yours, boring into you with utter adoration. Something within your stomach flipped, still coming down from your high.
Your head frantically bobbling, needing more, anything from him.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes—please, yes.” Your words come out quick and scattered.
You felt Davis’ cock run through your folds, feeling you out, spreading the lewd mix of his spit and your arousal before pushing in slowly. The stretch was sharper than usual, it had been a while since the two of you had time for this. His nonstop demanding schedule constantly stole him away from you, it didn’t help with how long the season goes on for, spring training too.
His head quickly dips down to your cheek and jaw, snapping you out of your thoughts, leaving soothing kisses against your throat.
“Oh my god—you’re…” he practically whimpers, face now buried in your neck. “You feel so good.”
His hips met yours as he bottomed out, his free arm looping under one of your legs, opening you up even further, pushing even deeper into your cunt. Dragging his cock out halfway before rolling firmly back into you, causing the breath in your throat to catch and your back to push your tits up against him. His breathing unsteady, gasping at how tight and warm you are wrapped around him.
“Davis—” you moan out helplessly, grabbing at his shoulders, your nails digging into his soft skin. His thrusts turn quick and sloppy, heavy with desperation for you.
“I know, baby. I’m with you,” he pulls back to look at the blissed-out expression plastered on your face. His hand reaching up to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him, eyes immediately finding yours. A softness to his face that you missed so much in his absence. “M’not gonna last long.”
You nod along frantically, your noses brushing against one another. His lips hovering over yours before catching you in a kiss, pulling back slightly to murmur against your mouth. “You’re so good to me, so pretty filled with my cock.”
The knot in your stomach starts to grow, quick and hot, making your whole body light up. You’re not gonna last long either.
You wrap your legs around his waist, forcing him closer and deeper. He wedges his arm between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with ease, rubbing quick circles, causing your head to spin.
You were so close, the coil in your tummy pulled impossibly tight.
“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me." His fingers begin to move faster, sending you over the edge. You’re clinging to him, legs tightening around his hips, your walls practically clamping onto him. “There she is, squeezing me so tight," he breathes out. Waves of heat roll through your body as he rides you through your orgasm before he tucks his face in the crook of your neck, releasing with a deep moan.
“So perfect for me," he murmurs, hips barely rocking against you as he finally melts against your chest, huffing a lungful of air onto your jaw.
His body settles over you for a few seconds, feeling the aftershocks before he shifts. Careful not to completely crush you, he tugs the both of you so he can pull you onto his chest instead without pulling out yet. His breathing is still uneven, but it slowly begins to calm as one of his hands finds the loose strands of hair on your forehead, fingers gently brushing them out of your eyes.
There’s a quiet pause, just the soft rhythm of your living room’s heater and the soft hum of the fridge. He brushes his thumb over your cheek as he cups your jaw, absentminded and grounding. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and a little rough.
“Was that okay?”
It’s simple but sincere.
He reaches out, grabbing the blanket hung on the back of the couch, pulling it around both of you, tucking it up just a bit higher around you on instinct to keep you warm. His other hand drifts to your arm, tracing slow, reassuring patterns, letting you know he’s still with you.
You let out a slow breath, the warmth of him against you grounding, steady. You nod faintly, or maybe just lean into his touch a little more, your answer coming in the way your body relaxes rather than words.
His thumb continues that gentle motion along your cheek, a small, repetitive comfort. When he notices you settling, something in his expression eases too. His shoulders dropped, his breath evening out.
“Good,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “M’sorry I’m not here for you as much as I should be.”
You shift yourself so your chin rests on his chest. “Don’t apologize, I just want to spend as much time together as we can while you’re home,” you say quietly, your voice vibrating softly against him.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond. His hand stills where it rests on your arm, like your words landed somewhere deeper in his chest. Then his fingers start moving again… slow, thoughtful, tracing the same gentle path as before.
“You deserve more than that,” he says after a beat, voice low, a little steadier now, honesty causing him to get more vulnerable than you expected.
His other hand shifts to the back of your head so your cheek is flush to his chest, cradling it lightly where you rest against him. His thumb brushes along your hairline, careful and unhurried.
“I’ll try to be more present and spend every waking second making sure you never feel alone when I’m home. I love you, baby.”
The words sit between you, quiet but real.
"I love you too."
He tilts his head just enough so it rests lightly against yours, closing his eyes for a second. His breathing has evened out now, matching yours more closely, rising and falling in the same slow rhythm as the both of you drift off.
thank u for reading!! feel free to chat in my inbox!! i am always down to be a freak or talk whenever! ✭
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