#sleep disturbances and fatigue | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dearieshima · 2 months ago

Text

blue

feat. lovely banter with zayne in the morning

c.w. should I label this as improper use of medicine? 💀, very suggestive, fluffy, MDNI, 1k+ words, fem reader

In the softest hour before dawn, when the town of Linkon lay wrapped in the hush of a blue so tender it felt almost sacred, Zayne sat at the edge of your bed, the early light casting his form in gentle shades of indigo and sapphire. Shadows stretched long as as he carefully buttoned his shirt, his fingers moving with a deliberate rhythm, hoping not to disturb you.

In that quiet intimacy, your arms, weighted with sleep, reached for him. He startled, the tension in his shoulders easing when he turned to find you awake, your eyes carrying the gentleness of lingering dreams. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, his voice a lullaby. His hand slid softly over your hair, and then he gently adjusted the blanket around your frame.

"Mmm, so you're the type of guy to see yourself out after spending the night with a woman?" you murmured, a playful edge laced with drowsiness.

Zayne let out a soft hmph, the sound warm and tinged with a hint of amusement. "I'm the type of man who has a very busy day ahead of him," he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

His hands moved to work on his tie, his fingers maneuvering the silk with skilled efficiency. "You," he added, pausing for a moment to look down at his work, "have the luxury of staying in bed, asleep, for another couple of hours."

You raised, the blanket slipping and pooling at your waist and exposing the erotic canvas of your skin in the hues of healing.

Mauve hickies adorned the column of your neck like a necklace. Plum love bites, puffy and tender, marred the smooth swells of your breasts, peeking out from your white lace bra. On your waist, a ghostly imprint of a possessive hand lingered.

Zayne froze, his hands clutching his loosened tie as his jaw tensed almost unseen. His eyes, however, remained thawed and warm to shift with such frequentness to drink you in.

He blinked rapidly before resuming his motion, loosening the tie around his throat as if it was the reason behind his loss of breath. He inhaled before he gently beckoned you to lay back down and attempted to tuck the covers back over you.

"Don't sit up. You need your sleep," he said softly, his voice slightly deeper than usual. Despite his words, there was a hint of guilt and tenderness in his tone, betraying his concern.

You pushed aside the covers and leaned into his shoulder, your fingers curling into the hem of his shirt. “Lemme... Lemme iron your shirt.”

Zayne’s resolve faltered as you pressed closer, your warmth seeping through the fabric of his sleeve. The scent of your love making still lingered on you.

“You expect me to think you can hold an iron when you can barely hold your eyes open," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His hand found your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “You'll have me hurrying up the process so I could rush you to the ER.”

You blinked up at him, your eyes heavy but earnest. “Can I have some water?”

He sighed but rose without complaint, returning moments later with a glass of cold water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other. Setting the water on the nightstand, he sank back onto the edge of the bed. His gaze swept over you, taking in the exhaustion etched across your features—the faint lines of fatigue, the dark shadows under your eyes. He knew how much your work as a hunter drained you, though he also knew now wasn’t the time for a lecture.

Which, of course, didn’t stop him.

"The first one is ibuprofen for pain relief," his eyes flickering to the bruise blooming on your throat, "and the other one is a multivitamin, which, by the looks of the full capsule in your medicine cabinet, is one you should've been taking daily, prescribed by your doctor."

You pouted, your voice soft. “I just forgot. And they taste weird.”

"You forget a lot of things," he said, his tone half-chiding, half-concerned. His fingers deftly cracked open the vitamin capsule, holding the pill up between you. "They're medicine, not candy. They're not supposed to taste delicious."

“What are you—?”

“Making sure you actually take it.” His hand tipped your chin upward, thumb and forefinger firm but careful. His voice dipped into something commanding. “Open.”

Your lips parted, your eyes meeting his as he leaned closer. He placed the pill on your tongue, but the flick of your it against his fingertip drew an audible hitch from him.

Zayne froze for a heartbeat, his eyes darkening with something unreadable, something heated. His thumb lingered on your lower lip, tracing its curve as his gaze held yours.

“Swallow,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, his breath brushing against your skin.

You obeyed, your throat working as the pill went down. His eyes tracked the movement, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. His thumb stayed at your lip a moment longer before he pulled back and handed you the water.

“Good girl,” he said softly, the words laced with a low, almost teasing warmth.

You drained the glass in one go, setting it back on the nightstand with a faint clink. Your eyes met his again, the weariness in them replaced with a spark of something else entirely.

“Now I’m really not tired,” you said, your voice breaking the quiet tension in the room.

Zayne leaned back, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. He was aware of the drowsiness that was about to settle in soon, thanks to the ingredient in the pills named Diphenhydramine.

Zayne pulled the covers up to your chin, his fingers gently tucking the fabric around you. He took a moment to admire the sight of you, wrapped up in your nest of warmth, the faint warm light of the early morning seeping through the windows, clearing the chillness of the blue. He should have left a while ago.

"It'll hit you soon," he said. "You'll be dozing off before you know it."

"Rest," he murmured. His hand lingered, squeezing your shoulder gently before pulling away. "I have to go."

"Wait," you said, tugging lightly on his sleeve. "Have a nice day at work."

"I will."

"And don’t eat too many sweets. Remember, your dentist said sugar-free," you added, smiling softly.

"I’m sure one pastry won’t hurt," he teased.

"Your lunch is in the fridge... don’t forget it," you murmured through a yawn. Zayne has been deliberately leaving his lunch behind for weeks now, a thin excuse for you to stop by later and see you again.

"I won’t," he lied smoothly.

Your breathing slowed, the weight of sleep pulling you under.

Zayne feigned a glance at his watch --and God, he really should've left by now-- pretending he had important duties that needed tending to, but secretly reveled in the extra few minutes of banter and banter with you.

Then it happened.

"I love you," you whispered, the words tumbling out mid-yawn, the 'you' stretching softly as your eyelids drifted shut. It was the first time you’d said it, the confession slipping free without a second thought.

Zayne froze, his heart stuttering in his chest. For a moment, he just stood there, watching you as you surrendered to sleep. It's the medication talking, he silently told himself, even as the words echoed in his mind, sending a warmth spreading through his veins.

He gently placed his hand on your head, his fingers carding through your hair in a soothing manner as he watched your eyes flutter closed.

Zayne watched as your breathing slowed into the soft, even rhythm of sleep, your face relaxed and peaceful. He lingered for a few more seconds, his gaze tracing the lines of your face, committing them to memory. He bent down to kiss your forehead. "I love you, too. I'll see you in the afternoon."

As gently as possible, Zayne removed his hand from your head, the touch light as he slowly made his way to the door.

2K notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 2 months ago

Text

your phone has been buzzing non stop for the past fourteen minutes. you know it’s been fourteen minutes, because the blinding light that emanates from the device blings every few seconds. when you grumble and turn to glance at it, the bright lights read 00:14.

your body is fatigued, tired from being pulled out of your sleep, and to be at the mercy of whoever is texting you so early- late?- has you feeling more and more agitated than the last. the room is dark, vision adjusting to the lack of light, save for the brightness coming from your phone. you furrow your brows, grimace, and it isn't until your phone starts to ring that you whip it off the charger and hold it up to your ear. "someone better be dying-"

he chuckles softly, "i take it i woke you up?"

"of course you did, asshole," you hiss. "what, what, what could be so important that you couldn't wait until morning-"

"i wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday."

your breath hitches and you feel your eyes soften, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you process what he said. your lips curl into a small smile, and you scrub your face with your hand, "you could've been the first even if i only saw your message in the morning. you didn't have to stay up until midnight."

"yeah, but whats the fun in that?" he offers. "and this way, you know i was first. no room for debate."

you giggle and shake your head, letting a comfortable silence linger over the phone.

"happy birthday," he says softly.

"thank you, baby,” you whisper back.

"i'll let you get back to sleep," he hums. "know how much you need your beauty sleep."

"watch it. you disturbed me, remember?"

he snorts. you shake your head fondly, letting your smile not falter thanks to him not being able to see it.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 2 months ago

Note

Ok I love your post about sleep talking to Aaron, but can you imagine if reader is pregnant but hasn’t told Aaron yet and completely spills the beans in her sleepy ramblings 💙💙

thanks for requesting! <3 fem, 1.4k

“Can you take my socks off for me?”

Aaron decides against asking why. Finds he doesn’t really care why you don’t want to do it yourself, happy to do it for you and spend a little time touching you. He sits on the end of the bed, pulling the comforter off of your feet. He slides a finger under the band of a sock and pulls it off, then the other. Pleased to hear your content sigh, he tucks you back under the blankets.

“Thank you,” you say.

He hears it then, the tiredness creeping into your voice.

“Not gonna last long tonight?”

“Don’t think so.”

Aaron doesn’t mind. With Jack in bed already and everything that needed to be done put away, there’s nothing to do tonight but sleep. He would’ve liked to have had a few more hours with you, but you’re often tired lately. He keeps meaning to pay closer attention to your diet. Perhaps you’re eating too little or missing a necessary vitamin.

He strips out of his sweatpants and climbs into bed.

“Ooh, how forward, Mr. Hotchner,” you tease, your cheek to your pillow, curled and waiting for him to lay down.

He turns out the light. “Can’t a man take off his pyjamas without such accusations?” he asks back, soft so as not to disturb his sleeping son nor his failing partner.

Aaron shakes the sheets out over his legs, slipping onto his side in your direction. You hike your leg over his thigh. He pulls you in.

“Why are you so tired?” he asks.

You don’t pretend you’re not, eyes closing and forehead drifting forward. He’s content to talk to you like this. He might not be able to sleep for a while, but he won’t mind it. It’s an opportunity to see you as you are without inhibitions or distractions.

“I think it’s something in the air.” You slink your arm behind him where he’s hugged you, hand bent at an awkward angle to press into his hair. “So soft.”

He leans down for a kiss. “If you need to sleep,” he says, pulling away only to stroke under your eye, “you can sleep, honey.”

“No… miss you too much…”

“I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“Don’t promise if you can’t.”

He kisses your frown. “I promise I’ll be here in the morning. Just like we talked about. Regularly scheduled days off, definite weekends, consult only if necessary. I promise, honey.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you more.”

You’re delighted to hear it. Even with your eyes closed, he can sense the pleasure you’re feeling. You squeeze closer to his chest and begin pulling your fingers through his hair, a sensation that sends shivers down his spine with each pass. Your face falls on your pillow just under his chin and for a while you struggle, your hand trembling with the effort of stroking his hair. Soon, you’re scratching light circles into the same spot, and not long after that you’ve given in to simply having your hand there, buried without hurting.

He turns onto his back to relieve a hip ache. He doesn’t bother pretending it isn’t a plus when you end up half atop him.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah?” he asks, surprised you're capable of opening your mouth.

“Are you happy?”

“Never so much in my life.”

“You love me?”

He curls an arm behind the back of your head. “You know that I do, sweetheart.” Aaron is at a crossroads of disposition; he’s always been and always will be a sensitive man, but he’s more of a shower than a teller when he can help it. He’d hope you know every inch of love he has for you, in everything he tries to do, but if you’re asking him about it he should’ve said it more. “I love you. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I love you and Jack, and… I love our life.”

“Me too,” he says. “Is this a precursor for something?”

“No,” you say decidedly. Last bit of inflection, and then your tone’s lost to fatigue. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says, pressing his lips to your head, kissing you once, then twice. “Goodnight.”

You curl up into him. He can feel the moment you fall into sleep, the laxness of unconsciousness and your deepening breath. You don’t usually snore for the first hour or so. He should try to fall asleep with you, but he gets distracted by the line of your upper lip.

He really does love you. It isn’t an underestimation to say this is the happiest he’s ever been. He’ll always wonder if he deserves it, but he wants to believe now that he can earn it. You love him, so he’ll spend the rest of your lives together making sure you’re happy. He’s had some cruel wake up calls, made agonising mistakes, and maybe there are some things that can’t be forgiven. But you deserve to be loved to the fullest extent. Jack deserves to grow up feeling the same way, in a home where his dad, while staying true to who he is, actually lives there too.

You and Jack both gave him a second chance at a good life.

“I love you,” he says again.

Stirring, you mumble nothing.

He shouldn’t have done that. “Shh,” he says, rubbing your back. “Shh, shh.”

“Aaron?”

You turn his name into a shapeless doting.

“What, my girl?” he asks under his breath. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“You were.” He whispers to you in the dark, struggling to resist temptation. “I was just telling you I love you, that’s all.”

“I’m so tired.”

“You’re more than tired lately. It’s a little concerning.”

Your sigh kisses his neck. “Well, it’s probably ‘cos of the baby, you know, they’re so… complicated to make…”

He opens his eyes. Frowns at you, forcing some space between your two bodies. “The baby.”

“‘Pparently the first twelve weeks are the tiredest.” You whine softly and curl into him. “Don’t move away, please...”

He feels like he’s been shocked. The conversation about babies as a long term couple went as follows: we’ll use protection, and if the protection fails we’ll do as you like.

Aaron, you’d said, shaking your head, We can’t just do what I want.

Genuinely and wholeheartedly, Aaron would be happy with just his Jack, and, at the same time, would adore a baby with you. So it really was up to you, knowing protection isn’t ever one hundred percent. He’d hoped he’d be more looped into that conversation when it happened, though, especially with how much has to be done, the preparations to be made, and the extra support you’re going to need.

He takes a deep breath, thinking about everything carefully. He loves you. He wants you to have a baby if you want one, and it sounds like you do. You’re tired beyond belief trying to carry one, so this conversation can wait until tomorrow.

“I’ve heard that too,” he says finally, kissing your forehead more forcefully than he means to. “You should rest as much as you can, honey.”

“You sound like you’re smiling,” you tease, tired, somehow missing the entire point.

“I love you very much, that’s all. You and Jack and… and whatever else that comes.”

—

In the morning, you wake slowly and then suddenly, your hand against his arm. He’s exhausted from a night too excited to sleep and doesn’t budge.

“Aaron…?” you ask.

“What, honey?” he asked.

“I… did I…”

He deigns to remove his face from his pillow. He finds you looking down at him nervously, so beautiful then that looking at you makes him excited all over again.

He rubs your arm. Takes your hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss your wrist. “Congratulations, honey.”

It’s your turn to be shocked, it seems. “Oh, thank you. So I did tell you?”

“You might’ve mentioned it.”

“And you’re… okay with it?”

He puts your hand to his heart, holding it gently. “I couldn’t be more in love,” he confesses.

That helps your hesitant smile on leaps and bounds. You go smiley like you’ve eaten something sugary and laughed, summoning the sweet, inescapable ache in your jaw. “You’re sure?” you ask.

He pulls you down by the cheek for a kiss.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

1K notes · View notes

nonushu · 4 months ago

Text

while you were sleeping - choe hansol

genre: fluff, est. relationship | wc: 300 | bf!vernon x overworked!reader a/n: does anyone get casually bias wrecked by vernon... *cries sobs screams*

he yawned, stretching his arm to grab the remote on the coffee table. his fingers fumbled with the buttons, fatigue slowly wearing off. the tv shut off, cutting in the middle of the scene's action—he wasn’t going to finish this one anyway.

with a sigh, vernon got off his back, making his way into your shared room. he’s sure you’re awake right now, despite the late hours. and he didn’t want to bother you earlier, knowing you had a deadline for this project.

he cautiously twists the knob, not even a creek from his grip, worried it might disturb you. as quiet as he can be, he’s surprised to see you not doing work.

your slouched over your desk, face in the seas of scattered papers, documents, or whatever you were given by your professor. the laptop screen is black, which he figures you had probably passed out a while ago.

the dim light from the hallway casts a soft glow on your face, making your desk seem less chaotic. he can see the faint crease in your brow, as if you were still worrying about your work, even in slumber. it makes vernon grin, his heart swelling.

he stares at you as he picks up an extra blanket. before draping it over your shoulders, he leans down to check on your breathing, relieved to see the soft rise and fall of your back.

gently, he smooths the line with his thumb before carefully draping the blanket over your shoulders, tucking it in just enough so it won’t slip off. he brushes a few stray strands of hair from your face, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.

“you’re working too hard,” vernon mumbles to no one in particular, more a thought than a statement. but i’m proud of you.

#버논 #k-labels #nonushu.drabble #vernon #vernon x reader #vernon x y/n #vernon x you #vernon fluff #vernon imagines #vernon fanfic #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic

997 notes · View notes

delirious-donna · 1 year ago

Text

tw: female reader, suggestive, yearning, reader is adored, could be considered somno but reader wakes up before anything starts, implied pussy eating, he just loves you so so much

The bed was pleasantly warm, so comforting against your spine. Soft sheets cradled your form as if trying to lull you into slumber, whilst the book you held slipped between your fingers as tiredness pressed against your eyes.

The spotlight from the bedside lamp painted the most magical shadows against the wall, the conjurations seeming to dance from the gentle fairy lights that twinkled around the room's edges. It was like a fairytale landscape but you fought the sleep that tried to tease you into surrender as if it were a dragon to be slain.

You waited, not sure how much longer it would be before you could be reunited with your lover. It felt too empty in here without him, his presence such a welcome and soothing one that you missed it all the more when he was gone.

Thoughts of the man you loved were the last ones you could recall before sleep pressed you deep into the mattress.

You were so cute, sweeter than the sugary candies he sometimes indulged in, and he was dying for a taste.

The sight of you prone on your squishy bed, chest rising and falling gently whilst you slumbered was just what he needed after the tediousness of the day. The veil of fatigue lifted enough to know that he wouldn’t be ready for sleep until he had you in his arms, his lips on every inch of your glowing sleep-soaked skin.

He padded silently towards the bed and knelt carefully so as not to disturb his sleeping angel.

For a long moment he admired your adorable pyjamas with the white fluffy bunny print–his personal favourites–with a lazy smile curling his lips at how the shorts bunched around your plush thighs. It was like he could already feel your softness beneath his touch, and he swiped his tongue across his teeth at the thought.

Slowly, like a stealthy animal, he crawled towards you. He watched through hooded eyes as he kissed up your smooth calf, enjoying the slight squirm of your hips when he reached the inside of your knee.

You smelled of your favourite body wash and he inhaled deeply until only you filled his head. He palmed you through the thin barrier of your pyjama shorts, instantly feeling your warmth and wishing to nuzzle against you.

It strained his dick to almost pain. The restraint of his pants uncomfortably tight, length throbbing with the close proximity to your pretty little pussy. His pretty little pussy… fuck.

Carnal thoughts of tasting your unique essence on his tongue, your thighs pressing against his ears and the hands that would switch between caressing and tugging on his hair, filled his mind. It made him crazy with need for you, and only you.

Deft fingers curled around the flimsy waistband, tugging the shorts down your legs until they flew into an unknown corner of the darkened room. Groans of you waking roused him enough to stare into that sleepy face that made him want to present you with his heart on a gilded platter.

“Baby?”

“Mhm, it’s me. I missed you,” he assured whilst his fingers tangled with your own, shifting your hands into the messy strands of his hair before pulling away to trace the glistening pussy lips that he was desperate to taste.

You blinked rapidly at familiar eyes glazed with desire, and it was enough to twist your stomach into knots. The swell of emotions that he evoked in you was so powerful that you could sense the slick building with every second that passed.

His lips were feverish, a contradiction to the usual cool sweep of his mouth, as they pressed against your skin. His dexterous hand snaked between your thighs only for you to press them tightly together in a mixture of embarrassment and seeking out that much-needed friction.

You let out a whimper as he sucked bruises of possession into your flesh, almost crying out aloud in simple ecstasy when he spoke once more.

“Now spread your legs and try to tell me about your day.”

Kuroo, Bokuto, Daichi, Suna, Osamu, Kakashi*, Obito, Kiba, Nanami, Gojo, Choso, Erwin, Levi, Reiner, Kunikida, Fuzukawa, Chuuya, Aizawa, Keigo, Sebastian, Hanma, Zhongli, Wriothesley, Kaeya + your fave that fits the story!

*I’m including Kakashi even though he doesn’t like sweets!

#delirious writes #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #kakashi x reader #keigo x reader #aizawa x reader #erwin x reader #levi x reader #wriothesley x reader #hq smut #hanma x reader #jjk smut #mha smut #genshin smut #aot smut #bsd smut

2K notes · View notes

kykyonthemoon · 9 months ago

Text

How to take care of your on-period girlfriend

During that time of the month, you receive special treatment from him.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader

with Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne and Caleb.

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, pain & comfort

ಇ. Word count: 3k4

ಇ. Note: Some details in this fic are inspired by in game Tender Moments.

ಇ. Requested by Mỗi ngày nhặt một anh làm chồng and an anonymous reader on my ask box.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

In the middle of the night, you awoke with such discomfort in your lower belly and an aching feeling throughout your body. You knew it was that time of the month; in fact, it was a few days late due to recent work-related stress. You didn't expect to have your period today, so waking up at this hour with discomfort all over your body was quite uncomfortable to you.

Your hand found the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. Rafayel has left you several messages and missed calls. Perhaps you fell asleep without realizing it due to fatigue. You decided to get up and use the bathroom for a while. That's when you discovered you were missing what you needed most at home.

You grumbled and switched the phone screen back on. You were reluctant to disturb him at this time, especially because he was attending an exhibition in another city and you were not sure if he had returned yet. But you were upset and missed the times like this when he took care of you. Just before dialing his number, your phone rang.

"I've seen you online for a while. What's up? Can't sleep?"

Rafayel's voice rang out from the other end of the line, full of energy still. You just answered with a few short phrases, summarizing the current situation for him and told him that you were about to go out and get the necessary supplies.

"Just stay there." Rafayel stopped you. "Do not go anywhere. Wait for me."

You were a little confused why he had told you to stay home. But just now, you were too tired to have the strength to ask. Besides, you could not go out in this state, when you just wanted to faint on the floor.

You washed and changed into a new set of pajamas. Luckily, you found a spare sanitary pad left over in the closet that was sufficient for your needs. As soon as you got out of the bathroom, you heard the front door open. Rafayel appeared there, with a bunch of bags wrapped in both hands.

“How are you now? Does it still hurt?"

You shook your head, primarily to reassure him. But glancing at your pallid face, he knew you were lying. And you were taken aback when he arrived here, at this hour.

“Didn't you leave Linkon for the exhibition a few days ago?”

“That event was nothing special. I was on my way home when you called. I stopped to get you a few things before coming here.”

"Just a few things?" You gazed at the mound of items Rafayel had just purchased and set on the floor. "Why does it look like you bought everything in the store?"

Rafayel grinned at you. He softly aided you in getting down, leaning your back against the cushion and placing your feet on the couch. After that, he began taking out everything from those bags, which startled you a lot.

He had purchased you sanitary products in the form of pads, panties, tampons and even menstrual cups. One of each type and brand. There were also several pain relievers, vitamins and more. When he noticed your amazement, he said:

“Since I don't know which type you usually use, I bought one of each.”

Rafayel laughed. And you, even though your face was pale, felt so content due to his silliness.

“You could have just asked me.” You responded.

“I won't be able to see your surprised smile then. Since I've made you laugh, I must be a fantastic boyfriend, right?”

You slumped entirely back on the couch, still laughing but murmuring: "You must be a fantastic fool."

Lemurians' bodies are not like humans, you appreciated Rafayel's efforts to learn about your cycle and care for you in this manner. He plopped down on the couch next to you, lifted your legs and placed them on his lap. His slender hands rubbed them gently.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

You shook your head. “It doesn't hurt much. Just mild cramps.”

Rafayel nodded. He still remembered you often got cramps in your legs every time your period came. He continued massaging your legs before moving on to your tummy.

“What about this place?”

When your lower abdominal contractions resumed, you let out a tiny cry. Rafayel immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry… Did I hurt you?”

“I-It's okay…” You tried to smile. “I'll probably feel better after a good rest.”

Rafayel's expression shifted slightly. His hand returned to your lower abdomen, continuing to gently rub it. “There you go again. Just say you're hurt when you're in pain. No need to try to act strong in front of me. Did you forget about our agreement last month? Whenever you have your period and are so weak like this, I will become your bodyguard.”

In the lying position, you could see half of Rafayel's face illuminated in the warm glow of the nightlight. His eyes were both concentrated and kind as he continued to ease the pain in your stomach. Suddenly, you couldn't help but jab your finger into his face. He pouted and puffed out both cheeks. Just like a puffer fish.

“Okay, it's all my fault. Now I will let Rafayel take care of me without worrying that I'd bother you.”

"Good. Even though I don't know how to take care of humans, I guarantee you'll be satisfied!”

Rafayel joyfully grasped your hand and kissed the palm to make it less cold. He continued rubbing your abdomen, singing a melody that put you at peace.

“Get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, I will still be here, right next to you.”

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

As a child, you imagined your knight arriving in shining armor on a white horse.

It turned out that your knight did not have a horse, but rather a white Hunter's uniform and a coat that he had just removed to wrap around your waist.

It happened when Xavier and you had just finished dealing with the Wanderers on the outskirts of Linkon City. Late at night, an unusual incident occurred. You hurriedly arrived to take on the task, unaware as that time of the month had come.

Perhaps you were too preoccupied with work to remember when your period would start. After finishing the task, you were dismayed to realize that the blood on your dress was not the blood of the Wanderers at all.

Xavier discovered it through your frightened eyes and trembling body. Immediately, he took off his coat, wrapped it around your waist to cover the blood stains, and even carried you a long way home on his back.

Your arms were wrapped around Xavier's neck, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. You felt so embarrassed to let him catch you in such a messy state. However, Xavier continued to soothe and console you. He said:

"It's not a problem at all. You don't need to be embarrassed about this very normal thing."

Even though it still did not feel right, you said nothing more. You were exhausted enough, and your aching body was screaming for a rest.

Xavier took you back to your apartment. You thanked him profusely and quickly went to take a shower. After that, sensing the silence outside, you assumed that Xavier had returned to his home. Unexpectedly, you caught a pack of painkillers on the table. Next to it was his phone.

You did not intend to peek, but because the phone screen was still on, you accidentally saw the content that Xavier was reading: How to take care of your girlfriend during her periods.

You chuckled to yourself. It turned out Xavier was learning how to take care of you. Then, his hand appeared out of nowhere to take the phone back.

“Are you done? Take your pill now."

Xavier gave you a cup of warm water. You smiled: "I thought you went home."

He slowly dropped himself into the seat next to you. “You are so hurt. How can I go home?”

"I'm alright. I'm going to sleep soon, tomorrow I'll feel better.”

Xavier did not seem to take your word for it. He grasped your hands.

“Aren't you going to be in pain for two or three days to a week?”

“Did you just read that on the internet?”

Xavier pondered for a time before nodding: “I... am not very familiar with these things. But I'll stay here until you feel better. Is that okay?"

You gave him a nod and a smile. Xavier got you a painkiller. After taking it he let you lean on the sofa, held your hands tightly, rubbed and breathed on them to bring some warmth.

After a while, your lower abdomen started to hurt. Xavier expressed concern as he noticed your expression:

“It hurts a lot, doesn't it? May I give you a massage?”

He waited for your approval with a nod before placing his hand on your tummy. He gently stroked it clockwise and inquired: "Is this better?"

You shook your head. One hand pointed to the lower abdomen, somewhat below where Xavier's hand was lying. “Here.”

“I see.”

Xavier's fingers went lower, causing you to flush slightly. Xavier said again:

“I only have two hands. One is warming your right hand, the other is massaging your belly. What should I do with your left hand?"

You gazed down at your hand. It wasn't chilly enough to warrant staying warm, but Xavier insisted on it. He also came up with a new idea:

“How about you put your left hand on me.”

You were astonished for a second. "Put it… on you?"

"Yes. Here..." Xavier raised his shirt slightly, showing his abdomen, and glanced at you with anticipation. You sheepishly placed your hand there, and he pulled his shirt down again. “Is it warm?”

You nodded, not sure what else to say. The warmth from his body made you feel heated within. Xavier proceeded to rub your hand and belly. Your hand, which had been put on his body for a short period of time, now became restless. It crept gently upward, to where you could feel his heartbeat quickening.

Xavier stared at you, considered for a time, then said nothing. Since he had let it slide, your hand glided down, past a layer of firm muscles, and then a bit further…

“If you continue to be so naughty, I'll get angry.”

Xavier leaned close to your ear and murmured, his tone irritated, but his gestures seemed to lean heavily on you.

Your fingers twitched slightly as you attentively watched Xavier's slightly furrowed expression. He went on to say: "When I'm angry, it will be quite terrifying. So be a good girl for me.”

Your hand, which was resting in Xavier's, was drawn to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses against it with heated breath. His eyes darkened somewhat; perhaps it was simply the light. You whispered an apology and returned your hand to its previous position. Xavier gazed at you with a small smile.

"If you're sleepy, just lean on me."

"Yes." You responded gently, placing your head on his shoulder and yawning loudly. No matter what the situation was, with him by your side, you would always be safe.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You were astonished when Zayne showed up at your door late at night after his shift. Seeing your pale and fragile appearance, he asked you to go to the bedroom for some rest. After faltering a few steps, you nearly collapsed to the floor.

Fortunately, Zayne's dominant arms caught you in time. With one quick movement, he lifted you up with ease.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

Zayne said, and you obediently followed. He carried you to your room, put you on the bed, and drew the blanket over you.

"Give me your hands." You placed your hands on his. Zayne stroked your hands briefly to warm them up before placing them beneath the blanket. "I will make you some tea. Remember to keep yourself warm."

You nodded sheepishly. Your eyes followed Zayne's wide back as it vanished beyond the bedroom door, and you wondered how he knew you were on your period.

You were not convinced this was a coincidence since Zayne prepared you a cup of jujube tea that he had brought with him. He used to give you that drink on days like this. He said it would make the pain less severe. And it was true.

"Drink this. Then eat the red dates, too."

Zayne handed you a cup of tea that he had just blown to cool down the heat. He sat down next to you on the bed. You ate a jujube, turned to look at him, and noticed his palm was already open in front of you.

“Spill it out here.” He said. You looked at him for a moment and then did what you were told. Zayne smiled with satisfaction, patted on your head, then took back the almost empty cup of tea from your hand to it on the night table.

“Feeling better?” Zayne inquired pleasantly as he assisted you in lying back on the bed.

You smiled faintly and said:

“Just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit better.”

He laughed at your childish behavior. “If it hurts too much, you'll have to go to the hospital.”

You frowned and shook your head vigorously.

“Don't want to? If so, you need to get a good night's sleep. When you wake up, you will definitely be better.”

You gently tugged on Zayne's arm, whispering: "So... Can I get special care from Dr. Zayne? That way I'll get better faster..."

He looked at you with smiling eyes then nodded. You shifted slightly to the opposite side of the bed, making room for him to lie next to you. He instructed. He said:

“Turn around. Then slightly bend your knees closer to your stomach.”

You did what he told you. Your back turned to him, and very soon, you felt the warmth from his body enveloping you.

Zayne embraced you from behind. One of his hands went under the pillow to lift your head up a bit, the other was placed on your stomach. His hand appeared to be large enough to cover your entire stomach. With a delicate touch, his hand began to travel in a circular rhythm on your lower belly.

At first, you felt ticklish and heated given the embarrassment caused by his touch. In addition, Zayne's steady breath was blowing on your hair from behind. He asked:

“Feeling better yet?”

"Yes." You replied softly. “Doctor Zayne's hand is so warm…”

You caught his quiet laughter. He pressed his body closer to you, while you just wanted to hide your face in the pillow. Then, you suddenly remembered what you had wanted to ask him just now:

“How did you know my period would start tonight? You even brought me tea.”

“Can you guess how?”

“Hmm… Let's see. You knew the exact date last month even though I didn't tell you about it... And the month before that too..."

Doctor Zayne allowed you to think about it for a minute. Zayne's knowledge of the days your menstrual cycle would start was most likely due to his perfect memory. Thinking about this, you turned around and his lips brushed your forehead.

"Eh…"

You froze for a second. Doctor Zayne gazed at you. He was so near that you forgot what you were about to say.

"You've got the answer yet?"

Your face became as crimson as the jujube tea. His breath danced over your cheeks as you responded:

“Um… I already knew the answer… Dr. Zayne is so busy, yet he still remembers my cycle?”

“I remember everything related to you.” Zayne spoke, his expression very serious and full of concern. You reluctantly turned aside.

"T-Thank you…"

You noticed Zayne's body pressing closer to yours. He buried his face in your hair and the nape of your neck, his hand continuing to rub your lower abdomen. He whispered:

“Get well soon. Although I hope that what makes you better is not painkillers or tea… but me…”

The corners of your mouth stretched out, smiling so widely that you could not close it. You grabbed his rough hand that was placed on your stomach and replied:

“Doctor Zayne has always been my elixir!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

The door to your room opened in the middle of the night, and Caleb emerged, blocking the entire entrance. He was holding a hot compress bag, a glass of milk, and sanitary pads.

"I'm here to rescue you, Pipsqueak."

Caleb turned on the nightlight to see your pale face and unkempt hair. You were writhing on the bed, in anguish from your period. You could only send him a text message with the strawberry emoji and a sobbing expression. He arrived at your bedside about five minutes later.

He assisted you up, gave you some painkillers, and then pressed the hot compress bag on your stomach. You frowned.

"Do you need to be so harsh with someone who is sick?"

"It's on you for not listening to me. Even though you knew you were about to start your period, you still had the urge to drink lots of cold drinks. You only listen to me when you're in pain?"

You grimaced and rolled over on the bed. Due to your sudden movement, you got cramps in your shoulder blades. You cried loudly for help. Caleb just sighed in helplessness. He helped you lie upright again and rubbed your shoulders.

“If I'm not here, who would you whine to?”

Since you knew Caleb was home, you texted him. However, you did not say anything after that. The anguish had utterly drained you. Caleb couldn't stand to torment you any longer after knowing about your situation. He leaned you on his lap and helped you sip your pain reliever and warm milk. The hand on your back kept rubbing you.

"Is it so painful? "Can you try to get some sleep?"

You replied by shaking your head. Caleb patted you some more. "Then I will stay here with you. Okay?"

This time you nodded. Caleb drew you closer. He removed the hot compress bag from your tummy and began rubbing it with his hand. All of a sudden, your childhood came back, when you had your period for the first time and Grandma was not home; there was only Caleb. Even though you had learnt in advance that all girls would have to go through her period every month, you were nevertheless terrified when it arrived. Fortunately, Caleb was by your side. He raced to get sanitary pads for you, poured hot tea, and helped you warm your hands and feet.

At that time, you were really timid. And perhaps from there you saw the differences between you and Caleb. Both of you were no longer innocent children. This unusual feeling also steadily grew since.

"Lucky you're here…" You whispered, a hand softly tapped on Caleb's.

"Of course. I'm always by your side, pipsqueak." He responded, then lavished you with several delicate kisses on your hair.

"Caleb… Don't disappear, okay?"

Surprised, he said, "Where can I disappear to?I still have to comfort you with your favorite meals tomorrow."

"Tomorrow…" You instantly recalled having a date with Caleb at the amusement park. But this unexpected menstrual cycle ruined that plan. "I'm sorry…"

"No problem." Caleb stroked you on the head. “You can compensate me another day. For now, you just need to rest well.”

“But I still feel like it's my fault… It's been a while since you could have a day off, yet we can't go out…”

Caleb smiled gently. He tucked your loose hair behind your ear. When he looked into your eyes, he said:

“If you're bored, we can watch the series you like together tomorrow. Or play some games.”

Upon hearing that, your mood brightened a little. You loved spending with Caleb, whether it was a date outside or just hanging out at home. They all brought joy to you.

Caleb placed a kiss on your forehead. He went on:

“Don't think too much about it. Go to sleep now so you'll have the strength to bother me again tomorrow."

You laughed. Caleb was always such a teaser, but that was the reason why you were so happy around him.

Coaxing you for a while, when you started to fall into a deep sleep, Caleb whispered softly in your ear:

“Being able to come home and be with my pipsqueak, that's the best kind of vacation for me.”

1K notes · View notes

fullfriendnerdclutch · 1 month ago

Text

Thanks for Giving Your Body

"You really should've joined us to Miami rather than seeking for your family's acceptance this Thanksgiving. Damian really got a trick on his sleeve,"

Johnny read the chat from Rick with his eyebrow furrowed. What the fuck was that chat all about? Suddenly, another message slides in, this time it's a picture, and Johnny's eyes instantly goes incredibly wide

"WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT SITE DID DAMIAN SHOWN TO YOU GUYS THAT HAS COACH COMBS BUTT-NAKED PICTURE?"

"Duh, are you purposefully being dumb or what? It's me dummy, we met Coach Combs on the beach and I slid into his fit hairy body. This is Damian and Lee now by the way, they met quite a hottie older friendship duo that they just turned gay for each other after one swift possession,"

Johnny's hand trembled in surprise. Is this for real? Fuck, he really should've ditched his family's Thanksgiving and just jet himself away with his fellas to Miami instead. His dick strained his short grey pants as he replayed the hint that Damian dropped about the spell he found online. But then his ear caught the voice of his most-awaited uncle downstairs and seemingly just arrived after his 8 hours drive from the other state and Johnny's eyes suddenly twinkled a rather mischievous smile

"Tell Damian to share the spell to me ASAP. I think I have just the plan and I will come join you three during the weekend,"

"No need, I have it in my notebook. Here, read the pics I just sent you,"

Johnny grinned and then quickly recited the spell. As his body instantly went limp, Johnny's astral form quickly dashed through the wooden floor and descended to the en-suite bathroom inside the bedroom designated for his Uncle Louis. As expected, the fit hunk instantly stripped himself for a shower as he has this habit of instantly showering upon arriving at his residences after every travel, and Johnny takes that isolation as a chance.

The studly man is all alone inside his bedroom with the door locked so Johnny knows no one will disturb this process. As his uncle undressed himself fully and started to round the towel around his waist, looking shredded as fuck yet a bit fatigued, that's when Johnny slides in smoothly with no resistance whatsoever into his uncle's physique. The invasion caused the massive stud to tremble a bit as Johnny's invading soul pressed and locked his own uncle's soul away into his own unconsciousness and mere seconds later, "Uncle Louis" is back to normal

"Happy Thanksgiving, Uncle Louis. Thanks for giving me access to this body so easily," he said with a smirk to the mirror as he then sniffed a rather peculiar smell wafting from his now massive body. Johnny then quickly raised his pit and grinned like a maniac as he then lick and huff his uncle's almost hairless yet sweaty pits as he found the source of the musky deliciousness that surrounded him.

"Hmmmm......8 hours of just driving inside an air-conditioned car yet you smelled this good? Fuck....imagine a 1 hour intense workout,"

Johnny then take it one step further as his mind raced with all sorts of scenario, hands rubbing the towel that covered his uncle's hard-on

"Oh how I wish my sweet otter of a gay nephew can come to my room and massaged my sore body after that lonely and tiring drive before I fuck his ass.....Oh dear God, wow, from where is this kind of thinking cumming? I'm such a perverted stud, ughhhh I really can use a warm hole to breed,"

He laughed a bit hearing his own uncle speaking like that and the reflection captured all sorts of the depravity he enacted using his uncle's body, but then he stared at the mirror with a serious gaze

"But I think he's sleeping now, because if he's awake, he will be coming down the stairs upon hearing my voice just like last Christmas, or even last year's Fourth of July when he went by my cabin. Heck, I was so oblivious that the gay nerd has a crush on me all this time! That long hug everytime we met or we have to separate to our own way, the way he always wanted to be in my car with me everytime the whole families went out, that queer wanted me to fuck his ass bad! Well you know what, maybe I should then fulfill his wish, fuck showering, I'll make his ass come down to my room so I can fuck him here, this is the only room with soundproof wall after all,"

He grabbed his uncle's phone and took a couple selfie of the massive stud and Airdrop it to his phone before eventually ejecting himself out from the body. Upon returning to his own body, he quickly send a picture to Rick

"Spare a room for this stud and don't get out yet, he'll come by on the weekend. But first, he's been driving all the way to fuck some sweet ass of his nephew on Thanksgiving, so please stay there until this weekend,"

Happy Thanksgiving week, folks! Rather than scouring the stores for Black Friday promos, why not thank yourselves for surviving this year with a good body to possess, control or shapeshift into?

#male possession #male takeover #nerd to hunk #magic possession #rites a loose series

464 notes · View notes

megwritesriddles · 2 months ago

Text

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in.

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you.

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm.

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him.

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused.

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth.

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think.

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you.

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you.

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly.

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

614 notes · View notes

emchante · 3 months ago

Text

kinktober | drowsy desires - m.v.

day 8 - sleepy sex | kinktober masterlist

summary: after an exhausting day, max arrives home late and slips into bed beside you. his touches stir something deeper within you, leading to a slow encounter under the covers.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, half-asleep sex. that's basically it.

w.c. 1.5k

a/n: last post for the week! this post feels rly weak, so sorry about that. having a hard time writing currently! next week will be the last week, so see you all then! let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys.

the bedroom was quiet, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the half-closed curtains. the house was still, save for the occasional sound of the wind against the windows. you were halfway between sleep and wakefulness, floating in a pleasant haze when you felt the bed dip slightly beside you.

max had finally come home.

even in your drowsy state, you could sense the weight of his day clinging to him. the exhaustion radiated from every breath he took, each slow and deep as he slipped under the covers. he tried to be careful, not wanting to disturb you, but the moment his arm slipped around your waist, instinctively pulling you into him, your body stirred at his touch. his familiar warmth wrapped around you, and you sighed contentedly, nestling into him without opening your eyes.

max’s lips brushed your shoulder in a light, almost unconscious kiss. he was barely awake himself, just a tangle of weariness and longing, craving the comfort of being close to you. his fingers traced along your waist, drawing lazy, soothing circles on your skin. the movement was calming, lulling you both into a state of relaxed intimacy.

you turned in his arms, feeling the quiet pull of drowsiness still heavy in your limbs, and opened your eyes just enough to see the soft silhouette of his face. his eyes were half-lidded, the lines of fatigue etched clearly in his features. despite that, he gave you a small, sleepy smile, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“hi, schajte,” he whispered, voice gravelly from the day and from sleep. it was a murmur, barely audible above the rustle of sheets, but it felt like everything in the quiet of the night.

“hi maxie,” you whispered back, your voice a soft hum as your eyes fluttered closed again, lost in the warmth of his touch.

he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. there was no urgency, no rush—just the simple need to feel you, to be close to you after a day that had kept him away. the kiss deepened gradually, max’s tongue brushing lightly against your bottom lip, tasting the softness there. you sighed into it, your body responding instinctively, shifting closer until your chests were pressed together, your legs tangling beneath the covers.

max’s hand slipped down from your cheek, his fingers trailing along the curve of your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone before resting at your waist. he held you like this for a moment, as if grounding himself in the feel of you, the familiarity of your body against his. it was as if touching you was the only thing he needed to unwind completely, to let go of the stress that still clung to him.

“missed you,” he mumbled softly, lips brushing your ear as he spoke. his words were heavy with sleep, almost slurred, but you felt their weight, their sincerity.

“i missed you too,” you whispered back, feeling the words drift into the darkness between you both. your hand slid over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

max’s lips continued their gentle exploration, trailing featherlight kisses down the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. the touches were slow, almost absentminded, but they stirred something deeper within you, a quiet desire that simmered just beneath the surface. you shifted slightly, the movement instinctual, a silent invitation for more.

you felt the low hum of his voice against your skin as he sighed softly, his breath hot against your collarbone. max’s hand slid down your side, his fingers brushing over the curve of your hip before slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. his touch was warm and soothing, a gentle reminder of how much he craved this closeness after a long day.

he leaned down, his lips tracing a path along your shoulder, then lower, pressing lazy kisses to the bare skin he found beneath the fabric of your shirt. your breathing grew heavier, the quiet tension between you both thickening in the dimly lit room. you could feel his exhaustion mixing with his desire, creating a heady combination of soft need and overwhelming intimacy.

“max,” you whimpered, a hint of breathlessness in your voice, not needing to say anything more. he knew what you meant, what you were asking for without asking.

he shifted slightly, his hand sliding down to your thigh, lifting it to rest over his hip. the simple movement brought you closer, your bodies aligning naturally under the covers. max’s breathing was uneven, a soft exhale escaping him as he nestled his hips against yours, his arousal evident even in his drowsy state. it was a quiet, subtle acknowledgment of what you both wanted—needed—after the long day.

max’s lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, a little hungrier, but still slow and tender. you melted into him, sighing softly as your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close. his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers brushing over your core, and you let out a quiet gasp at the touch, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a shiver of anticipation through you.

he took his time, his fingers moving with a patient, deliberate rhythm, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips. you could feel the weight of sleep still heavy on your limbs, but it only made everything feel more intimate, more raw. there was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet connection between you both, built from the exhaustion of the day and the need to be close to each other.

max shifted slightly, his fingers guiding himself to you, and you held your breath, feeling the anticipation build. he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly pushed into you, a quiet, shared exhale escaping both of you as he filled you completely. the sensation was almost overwhelming in its simplicity, the slow, steady rhythm he set making every nerve in your body come alive.

you sighed softly, your fingers tightening slightly in his hair as you arched into him, the movement instinctive, seeking more of that delicious closeness. max’s hand settled on your hip, holding you firmly as he moved with a gentle, deliberate rhythm, each thrust slow and deep. there was no rush, no urgency—just the steady, comforting connection between you both, the quiet intimacy that came from knowing each other so deeply.

the room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the quiet rustle of sheets as max continued his slow, deliberate movements. you could feel the tension building within you, a slow, simmering heat that spread through your body with each gentle thrust. max’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed, his breaths coming out in soft, uneven huffs as he held you close, his body completely in tune with yours.

you were both half-lost in the haze of sleep, but the sensations were all-consuming, every touch and movement heightened by the drowsy intimacy between you. max’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a tender caress, and you turned your head slightly to kiss his palm, your breathing growing heavier as the pressure continued to build.

“feels so good,” he mumbled, his voice rough and barely audible, as if he was speaking more to himself than to you. the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, needing more of that slow, steady connection.

the heat continued to build, slow and steady, until you could feel the tension starting to unravel, the pleasure washing over you in gentle waves. max groaned softly, his grip on your hip tightening as he felt you tighten around him, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he chased his own release.

with one final, deep thrust, you both fell apart together, the quiet intimacy of the moment making everything feel more intense, more real. max held you close, his breathing heavy and uneven as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body trembling slightly with the aftershocks.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still tangled beneath the covers, your breathing slowly evening out as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you both. max pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, his touch grounding you in the lingering warmth of the moment.

“love you,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “so much.” you smiled sleepily, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “love you too,” fell from your lips as you felt max squeeze you tighter.

and with that, the quiet rhythm of your breathing lulled you both back into a peaceful, shared sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

#em's fics #em's filth #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen smut #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #f1 smut #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #kinktober 2024

912 notes · View notes

erikftglitter · 7 days ago

Text

Terry Knows.. | Terry Richmond

After an exuberant, yet fulfilling, workout, Terry was ready to head back home. He had been jogging for the last couple of hours to clear his head before the sunset. His music supplied him with enough ammunition to turn around and head back home to you.

On the way back home Terry is thrilled to see you. These last two days have been bittersweet. You have been in bed sick and overwhelmed, and while he hated to see you sick, he loved having you to himself.

Terry closed the door carefully behind him, being sure to not disturb your rest. He made fresh chicken noodle soup before he left for his run but you were too fatigued to eat. He scanned the kitchen and realized that everything was still the way that he left it. You hadn’t ate or moved since he left. He was beginning to feel a tad bit guilty.

He removed his running shoes and began to strip out of his soiled clothes, but the appearance of your silhouette caught his attention. You were resting seamlessly in the bed that you two shared, but this time the blanket that you’d been adamant about sleeping with was rolled off of your body and abandoned on the opposite side of you.

You were wearing one of Terry’s shirts, something that was becoming routine for you. Terry approached your sleeping body, careful to keep his presence nonexistent. The shirt being slightly scrunched by your movements revealed your stomach to him.

Terry wanted to believe that he was seeing things, but he knew that he was not. Your hand was delicately placed on your stomach and the bulge in your abdomen couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. He wanted to curse at the cues that he missed but he didn’t want to disrupt your slumber. You hadn’t been able to keep any food down since you’ve been here. He assumed that you had a stomach bug and needed the comfort. How silly of him.

Terry tried to control his thoughts while he showered but he couldn’t help but to feel hurt. Why wouldn’t you tell him? How long had you known? He knows that he wasn’t one to discuss the future but he absolutely wouldn’t put you through this alone. Memories of your last encounter began to fill Terry’s head.

“F-fuck Terry! Yes!” You groaned into the pillow underneath you. Terry’s hands ghosted over your spine before he completely pushed your face into the pillow. His thrusts were consistent and unforgiving as fucked you to bliss.

“Mhmm. One more baby.” Terry growled as he heard the familiar cries underneath him. Your voice wavered whenever that familiar pit gathered in your body and you couldn’t be trusted to say anything but obscenities.

Completely turned on by your words Terry felt himself begin to unravel. The sight of your sex creaming around him was enough for Terry to abandon the idea of pulling out and cumming inside of you.

That had been almost three months ago. This is just what you and Terry did. You met years ago but the bachelor never came around to the idea of settling down. He was always there for a moment then gone in the next. You weren’t expecting to run into him again while you were in the town for work, but those eyes of his enamored you and soon you found yourself checking out of your hotel and into Terry’s bed.

The light sounds of water woke you up from your nap. You quickly pulled your shirt, well Terry’s shirt, down and sat up. You know that you needed to say something and that it was selfish to keep to yourself, but Terry wasn’t built for stuff like this. He doesn’t want a woman nor does he want a child. Terry liked to be alone and you weren’t fond of hurting your own feelings by allowing him to reject you and your growing baby.

As self absorbed as it may sound, you only agreed to stay with Terry for the weekend because it would be your last time seeing him. You were already on month three and it was starting to get difficult to fit into your clothes. Hiding a pregnancy was one thing but hiding your born child was not on the table. You needed this weekend as a form of closure before you figured out what was to come.

When Terry exited the shower you weren’t expecting his cold demeanor. He hadn’t said anything but his eyes always seemed to revel his feelings. You were now dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed that you made before he got out of the shower. As tired as you were you still were persistent about faking it.

“I see you’re dressed.” Terry spoke from his place near his closet. He dropped his towel as he moved to put on his briefs. He was unfazed by your presence and that confidence was something that you loved about him.

“Yeah. I need to head out now.” You reply as you scan the room for anything that you might’ve left. You’d be leaving your heart here but he didn’t need to know that. He wouldn’t care about that. You two were just friends that occasionally shared the same bed. He never wanted anything serious.

“I take that you’re just going to leave with my baby. Right?” Terry’s words are enough to make your heart drop. You blink rapidly in hopes of drying your eyes from the tears that were pooling up.

“I-I don’t kn-now what you’re talking about Terry.” You quickly gather your bag and attempt to head out of his bedroom and to dart out of the house, but you should’ve known that he’d outrun you any day.

“So you really were going to leave with my baby?” He asks, his arms extended in front of you blocking your path. Both his tone and facial expression were softer this time around.

“I know that you never wanted this Terrance. I’m just doing what’s best-“ The sound of Terry’s voice stops you.

“Yeah? And how do you know what’s for the best? You weren’t even going to tell me?” He was clearly hurt at your declaration. Who were you to deny him something that he rightfully created alongside you?

“Don’t do this.” You can’t hold the tears back this time as they fall down your face. This is definitely not how you imagined the evening would go.

“I’m not letting you go YN,” Terry says after a few moments. “I know that I haven’t been the best person to talk to, but I refuse to let you go again and especially not like this.” Terry removes his arms from around you and lift your face to make eye contact with him.

“You’re not doing this alone anymore. It’s me and you. Me and you.” He emphasizes as he brings your body closer to his.

#terry richmond #terry richmond imagines #terry richmond x black reader #erikftglitter #black fanfiction #rebel ridge #rebel ridge au #aaron pierre #look at him ofc you’re pregnant

297 notes · View notes

amirasainz · 3 months ago

Note

Lewis x daughter!Reader ( she is like a teenager) and the poor thing is sick. So instead of being a typical teenager, she needs her dad to take care of her, watch Barbie movies with her, braid her hair, .... Despite being worried for his daughter, Lewis loves that she wants to spend all of her time with him.

I hope that makes sense

Ahh, so cute. I am in love with this.

Enjoy reading and send me requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Moments Like These

The low hum of the rain pattering against the windows created a soft, soothing backdrop inside the cozy living room. Lewis sat on the couch, glancing at his phone and frowning at the time. He’d been out all morning for work, but his mind hadn’t left home once. YN, his 17-year-old daughter, had been sick for the past two days, and while it wasn’t anything serious, the stubborn fever and constant sneezing had turned her usual teenage energy into something much quieter.

He sighed, putting his phone away and glancing toward the hallway that led to her room. A part of him missed the usual chaos, the way she’d barge into the room talking about the latest drama with her friends or her plans for the weekend. But right now, she was curled up in bed, likely scrolling through her phone under her blankets, too tired to do much else. He hated seeing her like that. His protective instincts were on full alert, making him feel useless every time she coughed or sniffled.

“YN?” Lewis called out softly from the living room, hoping not to disturb her if she’d managed to fall asleep. There was a moment of silence before he heard a faint, muffled voice coming from her room.

“Dad…?”

He stood up immediately, abandoning whatever half-hearted attempt he’d made at distracting himself and walked toward her room. Pushing the door open quietly, he found YN bundled up in her bed, her head barely peeking out from under the covers. Her cheeks were flushed from the fever, and her normally bright eyes were heavy with fatigue.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked gently, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

She nodded, then shook her head. “Not really. Everything hurts,” she admitted, her voice slightly hoarse. She sniffled and reached for a tissue from the bedside table, blowing her nose with a miserable groan.

Lewis frowned, reaching over to place a hand on her forehead, brushing her hair away. “You’re still warm,” he murmured. “You need to rest, YN. Have you been drinking water?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t help,” she muttered, sounding as frustrated as she did tired. “I hate this. I feel gross, and I look gross.”

Lewis smiled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t look gross. You just look like someone who’s sick. It happens to everyone.”

“I’m not everyone,” YN grumbled, her voice still holding that teenage dramatic flair even through her exhaustion. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re still my favorite mess,” he teased gently, and YN rolled her eyes, though a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“You’re supposed to say that. You’re my dad.”

“True,” Lewis said with a small chuckle. He reached over to grab the glass of water from her nightstand, holding it out to her. “But you’re still drinking this.”

YN made a face but took the glass obediently, sipping it slowly before handing it back. “I’m so bored, Dad. I’ve watched everything on Netflix, and I don’t want to sleep anymore.”

He knew she was feeling restless. She’d been cooped up in her room for days, which wasn’t something YN was used to. Even when she was just at home, she was always moving, always chatting, always doing something.

“Well, I could braid your hair?” Lewis suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “Like when you were younger.”

YN’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise, though she seemed amused by the idea. “You still remember how to braid?”

Lewis shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I wasn’t always this rusty. I did your hair for years, remember?”

She smiled a little, and that was enough to convince him.

“I mean… sure,” YN agreed, sitting up slowly and shifting so her back was to him. “It might make me feel better.”

Lewis couldn’t help but smile. He fetched the hairbrush from her desk and sat behind her, gently running the brush through her hair. He had to admit, it felt nostalgic in the best way. He could almost see the little girl she used to be, sitting in front of him, laughing and chatting about her dolls or some game she played with the neighbors. Now she was taller, moodier, and had her own world of thoughts and friends, but in moments like these, she was still his girl.

As he began braiding, YN’s voice cut through the comfortable silence. “You know… I was thinking. Maybe we could watch a movie together or something.”

Lewis paused for a moment, grinning to himself. “What kind of movie?”

“Barbie,” YN said without hesitation, turning her head slightly to glance at him.

He chuckled. “Barbie? Really?”

“Yes. Barbie movies are great, don’t judge,” she retorted, her voice carrying a mock warning.

“I’m not judging. Just surprised,” he admitted. “But hey, if you want to watch Barbie, we’ll watch Barbie.”

“Which one do you want to watch?” she asked, sounding a little more awake now, more engaged.

“Uh… I think I remember you really liking the one with the fairy princesses or something?”

“Dad,” YN groaned, though she couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. “You mean Barbie: Fairytopia.”

“Right. That one.”

YN laughed softly, though it turned into a cough, and Lewis immediately put the hairbrush down, patting her back gently. “Easy there.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, waving him off before leaning back again. “Let’s watch that one, then. I haven’t seen it in forever.”

Once the braid was finished, Lewis grabbed the remote, set up the TV, and the familiar opening tune of Barbie: Fairytopia filled the room. YN sank back into her pillows, looking much more relaxed now, her head resting against her dad’s shoulder as they watched together.

“Do you miss this?” YN asked quietly after a few moments.

Lewis glanced down at her. “Miss what?”

“You know… me being little. Like, before I grew up and stopped wanting to do stuff like this,” she said, gesturing toward the TV.

Lewis was quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “I mean… yeah, I miss it sometimes. You were always running around, making me laugh, wanting to spend all your time with me. But,” he added quickly, “I love who you are now, too. I love that you’re growing up, that you have your own life, your own thoughts. I’m proud of you.”

YN’s expression softened, and she looked away, her voice quieter. “I miss it too sometimes.”

Lewis smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Well, you’re still here with me, sick or not. And for what it’s worth, I love having you around, no matter how old you are.”

YN didn’t respond right away, but she leaned into his side, and Lewis could feel the tension leaving her. The Barbie movie played on, filling the room with colorful animation and familiar voices.

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered after a while, her voice barely above a breath.

“For what?”

“For being here. For everything.”

Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Always, kiddo.”

As the rain continued to tap lightly against the window, the world outside faded, leaving just the two of them—father and daughter, sick days and Barbie movies, and the unspoken comfort of knowing that no matter how much things changed, moments like these would always be there.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #lewis hamilton x daughter!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋

442 notes · View notes