#this whole thing still has me by the whole heart it is GRIPPING WITH FORCE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

parfaitblogs · 2 months ago

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fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end. word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be.

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all.

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not.

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide.

And then he was free.

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished.

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened.

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break.

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again.

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit.

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was.

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be.

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry.

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming.

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened.

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped.

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed.

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again.

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more.

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him.

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

You couldn't complain.

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch.

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body.

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later.

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind.

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you.

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin.

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered.

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously.

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face.

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up.

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away.

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?"

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again.

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up.

"Lots of people say oral," he defended.

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head."

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping.

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping.

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so.

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?"

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose.

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests.

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter.

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him.

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him.

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have.

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded.

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone.

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat.

He liked to hear you.

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either.

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face.

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest.

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?"

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body.

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time.

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make.

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit.

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin.

"Touch myself?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again.

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head.

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again.

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you.

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you.

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could.

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more.

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it.

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin.

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't.

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling.

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome.

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were.

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to.

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating.

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered.

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after.

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after.

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck.

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter.

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again.

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there.

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips.

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking.

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here.

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more.

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move.

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move).

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second.

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled.

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little.

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again.

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure.

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were.

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots.

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever.

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that.

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever.

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly.

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared.

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely.

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone.

Thankfully, you didn't have to.

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee.

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub.

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt.

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless.

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways.

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach.

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh.

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face.

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort.

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes.

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

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peachesofteal · 5 months ago

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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader

Simon's short term rental is almost claustrophobic.

He tries to stay out of it, tries to keep himself busy. Active. After a week since you asked him to go home, to give you some space, he noticed he's lost weight. The thick of his ribs, his stomach, his thighs, has thinned out, cutting his bulk, exposing more muscle.

The grief feels more fresh than it has in years. Talking to you, telling you, has dredged up long buried things, agony and regret, pain that steals his breath and leaves him paralyzed. He forces himself not to think of it, but it still finds a way to creep in. To make him feel torn apart, turns him into a ghost.

He walks a lot. Walks to the store. Walks to the pub. Walks to the park. Sometimes he sits on the bench and watches mums push their buggies, wondering if it's something you might enjoy, if you were feeling better. Wishing he had made more of an effort to get you out of the flat, into the sunshine.

He's still walking to your building at night, standing under the tree, watching the lights flicker on and off. Your windows stay lit longer now, periods of sleep more infrequent, leaving him to worry that you're not getting enough rest, not taking care of yourself.

He walked all morning into early afternoon today. Tried to quell the nausea swirling in his stomach, tried not to watch the clock, or count the seconds. Tried to brace himself for the bittersweet he knew was coming.

>Hey, I'm going to be leaving pretty soon for work, and could be gone for a while. Could I see Orion before I go? Spend some time with him?

>Sure.

Your reply still rings in his ears. Short. Torturous.

But he doesn't blame you. He did it the wrong way. You have a child, his child, to protect, to take care of. Of course, you should be concerned. Maybe he should have found a better way to tell you. Maybe he shouldn't have told you at all.

A large part of him, the instinctual part, considered refusing you, when you asked him to give you some time, and he still hasn't made a decision about what he will do in the long run.

It would be so easy, to hide you away. To take you in the middle of the night, wake you up in a brand new home, high in hill, in a whole new country across a border.

When the knock on his door finally comes, he crams the overflow of emotion coursing through his heart into a teeny tiny box, and prays he'll be able to keep a lid on it.

"Hey." Orion turns in your grip, looking for Simon's voice, and you smother a wince at the shift in his weight.

"Hi." You look through him. Past him. To the left of his elbow, at his shoulder, the floor. Anywhere but his eyes.

"Thanks for letting me spend some time with him." Your lips go flat, but you shuffle the baby into his arms, managing to avoid skin to skin contact. It makes his stomach hurt worse than it already did.

"Of course, you're... you're his dad." You peek around him, trying to get a better look of the flat. "Do you uh, have stuff for him?"

"I went to the store."

"Okay. Well, good." You hand him the bag next. "I wasn't sure what you had so there are a few changes of clothes in there, just in case, and some bottles. They should probably go in the fridge. Diapers, some toys. Just in case... I didn't want.... I wanted you to have everything you might need." It's thoughtful of you, and he wants to smile, but you won't look at him.

"Thank you." You nod.

"Alright well, I'll come pick him up later? Just text me I guess, when you're ready. Hopefully he'll take a bottle."

"I can bring him-"

"No, that's okay." you cut him off sharply, shaking your head. He frowns.

"Why not?"

"I- I don't mind, coming by to get him."

"But if it's dark..."

"I can manage." You snap, and he purses his lips, but says nothing.

"Alright well, see you later then." You make some noncommittal noise, and then step closer, mouth pressing to Orion's cheek.

"Bye baby, love you." You finally look up at him, really look, and he holds his breath when he sees it all in your eyes. Pain. Confusion. Worry.

He did that.

The evening goes too fast. He manages to get Ry to nap, and drink over half a bottle, a huge win, but spends most of the time just holding him, walking him in circles in his flat, trying to memorize the feeling of his baby in his arms. He's fussier than usual, crying anytime Simon tries to put him down, which he doesn't mind, but concerns him. Is he like this at home, with you? Is this why you've been up more at night?

Still, it's over too soon, and when you're knocking on the door again, he stands on the other side a few seconds too long, wishing he had more time.

He's always wishing he had more time.

"How was he?"

"Good. More fussy than usual, but I got him to take most of a bottle. Is he doing alright?"

"He's been like this, the past few days. He's either going through a growth spurt, or developing some late colic. I hope it's the growth spurt." Oh no.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything. If you want me to take him at all." You nod.

"When uh... when are you leaving?"

"Two weeks or so. Once the guys get back, they'll have a few days debrief and then... we'll be off."

"Okay, well. Just let me know, when you want him again?"

"I will." He kisses Orion's cheek, whispering in his ear how much he loves him, before passing him to you. You have to reposition your posture to support his weight, and he winces. "Are you okay?" You blink at him, skeptical and surprised.

"I'm great Simon. Really peachy."

"Look, I know I really sprung-"

"Sprung? Is that what you're calling that? Simon... you blindsided me. You... you-" He holds up his hands.

"I'm much more careful now. I've learned a lot of hard lessons, and I would never, ever allow anything to happen to you or Orion." His shoulders slump, and he drops his eyes to the floor. Ashamed. Grief trying to work its way, trying to break him down just as it has all these years before. "I've learned from my mistakes." There's a long, uncomfortable since between the two of you, one that Orion fills with fussing, and then your voice cracks.

"Simon, that wasn't your fault.... I'm not... I'm not upset about... that. Or anything, that happened to you. I mean, I'm upset but not at you for that..." You take a deep breath. "I am upset for you, that those things happened to you, that you've been through such trauma, such horrible things." Tears wet your cheeks, but he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. "I would never hold that against you. I'm upset about your job. And the danger it puts us in. I'm upset that I didn't know that you'd been gone for weeks, possibly months at a time. I'm upset that you promised me you'd be here, and then never mentioned the super secret task force that will... take you away from us." Orion cries, and you bounce him back and forth, finally looking Simon dead in the eye, facing him head on. "It feels like you've been lying to me, for weeks now. I thought we were in this, together, that we were- we were building something, together. Now it just feels like... I could lose you at any second instead. That Orion could lose his father, grow up without you." The last word rips from your lips in a sob, and you shake your head as he steps close.

"You will never lose me. Do you understand? That will never happen." He vows it, swears it, forces it out into the universe as a covenant, but you only shake your head again, sadly.

"You can't promise that."

#peaches writes #through me (the flood)#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

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defmaybe · 1 month ago

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Excel

aespa's Ning Yizhuo/Ningning x Male Reader

1.4k words

Prequel to [AER-698] My Boss(?) Loves My Ass So Much She Puts Her Tongue on It, Then She Fucks Me in the Ass Like I’m Her Cockslut and Make Me Cum!

A/N: Dubious consent y’all, proceed with caution. You know who’s going to be the receiving end of this. Also, this is pretty much a bfh lol. A bit rushed towards the end, sorry. Thanks for reading!!!

—

“Tsk, slut.”

The words leave Yizhuo’s lips as she locks her tongue with yours. Her hands wander on your body—chest, the flat abs, waist. She’s frisky.

“Do you really think–hmph–you can just walk around for years–mmm–with that—” says Yizhuo muffled, as she grabs your firm ass, forcing some submission into you that you let out as a moan “—every single fucking day and–mmh–expect to just get away with it!”

You aren’t quite sure how it happened, really. One second, you were merely strolling in the SM building’s hallway, papers and such in your hand. And another, a tug on your collar dragged you into the files room, with the sounds of the door shutting and a lock clicking.

You can’t, you can’t just let go right now, with the storm of pleasure raging within.

“M–Miss Ning, I–I don’t think–mmmph–this is appropriate!” you grasp onto any bit of your inhibition that hasn’t been scared away by Yizhuo yet. You fail, and you fail.

Back leaning against the cold wall.

“Shut up, will ya?” Her hands tug the collar of your shirt, creasing it. “If you aren’t going to say those witty shits, then just be a good boy, and let me do whatever the fuck I want with you, alright?”

You whimper in her grip and her stern stare, trying to catch those stolen breaths at the same time. But isn’t she an impatient figure, as she seals your tired mouth with hers once again?

Sweet.

Strawberry.

Her tongue easily defeats yours and explores your mouth. You are struggling to find your rhythm under her aggression. “You taste good, baby–mmph. Hope it’s like this for the whole package.”

“T–Thanks, Miss Ning. I–I still don’t think we should do it h–here,” you stammer.

She pulls back from the fiery kiss. “And fucking leave me to my vibrator at the dorm? No, you’re my slut today, baby,” she wags her finger.

She then continues, “You know, me and Aeri have been doing this little ranking for the male staffs at the end of every single year, in fucking Excel like those Reddit perverts do. Do you know who has been holding the number one spot for best ass, four years straight?” Ningning asks, staring into your eyes with blazing determination.

You know that it’s you—the question being asked in such a situation. But you just don’t have the heart to be a cocky cunt in front of this ethereal idol.

“Wh–Who, who?” you stutter out, shaken. Beads of sweat trickle down your forehead.

Yizhuo gives your ass a smack, leaving you tensed under her touch. It’s quick, but it stings hard. She sneers, “Hoo? Hoo? Are you a fucking owl or something, dumbass,” as she crashes her lips back onto yours again.

She grips onto your ass, and her grip keeps getting tighter and tighter. “Good thing they are soft to touch,” whispers Yizhuo.

She keeps squeezing your cheeks, the softness of them spilling off her fingers through your tight jeans made just to—well, without your willingness—show off your supple rear.

“I mean, there’s the factor of, mmph–”

She keeps her wordy assertions sheathed in between the kisses.

“–you staying here since your intern days, proximity stuff, you know? But god–”

It works—well, to be fair, you’ve never been quite a dominant person yourself.

“–too bad I forgot my strap at the dorm, or you’d be moaning like a slut right now.”

A moan leaves your lips—a loss of control.

“Take your pants off.”

You comply on a whim, nodding profusely. There’s nothing you can do to resist her burning desire right now. You slide your pants and boxers down to your ankles, and your erection springs out for her in full glory.

“Hmm, hmm, good boy~” she says with a smirk, examining your cock as she reveals the bare skin behind the black shorts as well. And upon the sight, you fall to your knees, tongue falling out of your needy mouth.

And that’s just her panties, not talking about her heavenly cunt yet, so—just her thighs.

“Me and Aeri have talked so many times on how submissive you’d be for me. Guess I was on point,” Yizhuo says, as your flesh gets closer and closer to her covered folds, before she tips your chin up.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“You can do it later, baby. I didn’t have her find the perfect position just for nothing.”

“P–Perfect position? Miss Ning?”

“Yes, baby, I guess sluts like you would love… Amazon.”

Without another word, she nudges your chin away, leaving your back against the cold hard ground, feet up in the air. Shivers rush through your lithe body. You figure that she’d reveal her pussy just for you next.

And she does.

“Like the sight, baby?” she asks, biting her finger, resting another hand on her waist, body leaning just ever so slightly.

“Yes, Miss Ning.”

Yizhuo giggles as she lowers herself onto her knees. Her hands run down the length of your legs, lighting trails of fire in its wake. It starts to be sore now—dangling your feet up like this.

“M–Miss Ning, can I–”

“No, you’re just my slut, remember?” she commands.

“Y–Yes, miss–ngh.” You’ll have to bear the pain for now.

Yizhuo peppers kisses and licks on your toned legs, sending an unbearable pleasure through you. She slowly squats down until her lips reach the back of your knees.

“Ready?” she asks.

You sheepishly nod.

Hastily, she positions herself to where your length teases her slit. It’s so close. Fuck.

And she descends.

It’s warm. That’s your first feeling upon entry. Yizhuo lets out a stuttered moan with each inch. “F–Fuck!”

The pain in your thighs is worth it. Seeing her eyes closed, mouth agape in this position.

She adjusts herself with your cock, creeping down to the hilt.

“Yes, yes, yes, fill me up like that, slut!” she shouts.

“Ngh–y–you feel so good, Yizhuo.”

She keeps her pace slow, not wanting to have her slut cum too fast to her liking. “Y–Yizhuo? Really? You think you c–can call me by–fuck it,” she sneers, smacking your ass along with the words.

“Ah! Thanks, Yizhuo,” is what you’re able to muster out.

She’s tight. Her walls welcome you with perfection—the wet sensation around your cock, the warmth, and her empyrean moans, god, her moans. She’s fucking hypnotic. Your skin clashing into each other lights up the missing spark.

The smell of your sex permeates the file room—musky, raw, arousing. It’s your body together, just the two of you. You’ll need a spray after this.

With little effort, she grabs onto your thighs for a hold to up her ante. Her luscious thighs tenses up by seconds. Her moans grow shorter. She’s going faster now, and you don’t feel that you can hold out for this tryst for much longer.

“Y–Yizhuo–”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Really?”

“O–Oh, like you aren’t close, s–slut,” she bickers.

Her hold on your thighs grows tighter with the shorter moans.

“I–I’m gonna cum, baby,” Yizhuo says. “C–Cum when I say so, alright?”

“Y–Yes, Yizhuo.”

And without another word, her cunt gushes out the torrent of her sweet juice. She pools on your crotch. Her body arches back, stretching her toned tummy into display just for you.

“Ah, fuck!”

Along with her torrent, or perhaps it’s the sight, the familiar feeling builds up inside your stomach. You need to release it.

“Y–Yizhuo, I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, yes, yes, cum inside me, baby,” she orders.

And you break, you release spurts of essence inside her to the brim. You paint her insides white with your cum, desperately gasping for air. Your legs shake as she holds them tight.

“Fuck, yes!” Yizhuo screams. You are too busy having your eyes fluttered to say a thing.

It’s quick, as you finally come down from your high. Both of you are so desperate to catch your breaths in the afterglow. You can see Yizhuo smiling above you.

“I–I’m fucking this–” she slaps your rear once more. “–ass next time, baby.”

“Ah a–alright,” you say, as she lifts herself up from your used cock. She then recollects herself. Cum can be seen dripping down her thighs as she puts her shorts and panties back on.

“Yizhuo, you–”

“Ah, let’s leave it like this, shall we?” she playfully asks, biting her finger, before throwing your jeans back at you.

“Until next time, baby” She bids farewell, before leaving the room, leaving you behind under a lump of your discarded garments.

You sit there in silence, the smell of the debauchery still fills the room, hanging, waiting to be displaced. Your brain replays the misdeeds earlier—her domination, your submission.

And you realize,

You need her again.

—

#ningning #ningning smut #ningning x reader #aespa #aespa smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

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ynsbarbbb · 6 months ago

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love me harder | m. verstappen

hypothesis - max is on the brink of losing you. however, after a fatal accident…

pairing - max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

[fic is inspired by “love me harder” by ariana grande ft. the weeknd

“baby, in the moment, you’ll know this is, something bigger than us and beyond bliss”

“could you just look at me?” you yelled as max just kept walking a few steps ahead of you.

“can’t. race is about to start.”

stepping into a quicker pace you place yourself in front of max and the garage door, “when was the last time you told me you loved me?”

your eyes searched his face, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the max that you knew, the max you fell in love with, the max you married. the hand you placed on his chest, you could feel the steady rhythmic thump of his heart.

“you really want to do this now?”

“yes! i never see you anymore!”

max scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down at his phone, “sorry that i’m busy.”

your hand fell back to your side, “i’m busy too max, yet i still try.”

he nodded his head, eyes not lifting from the rectangular square. you sighed, your hands landing on your hips. is this what you’ve become now?

“is our marriage still worth fighting for, max?”

he looked up. eyes piercing through yours. you cannot believe the words just left your mouth, but it felt relieving to finally utter the words that has been haunting you for weeks.

“i’m not doing this with you right now, y/n,” max steps around you, “good luck with your race.”

it was a millisecond.

you missed the turn by a millisecond and hamilton came crashing into you, sending your right wing and two tires flying. the car skidding across the track and landed upside down.

the force of the impact shoved your head against the steering wheel, hard, bouncing back against the seat.

damage had been done. to you and your car.

to lewis’ as well.

unbeknownst to max, who was in the lead, adrenaline coursing though his veins at the thought of his fourth podium for the season.

he was thriving, the car succumbing to his every command. the engine roaring sending shivers throughout his whole body.

the grin on his face turned devilish. he’s so close.

“max,” christians voice in his ears broke his train of thought, but his eyes never once lost sight of the track in front of him.

“the car’s doing great, no need to worry. podium is secure,” max declared excitingly. he took the turn, groaning at the strain it took on his body.

“though, sainz is on my tail the whole fucking time.”

christian sighed, not at all what max had expected, but he couldn’t be bothered by his team principal’s pms at the moment.

“max, there was a crash.”

another turn, another groan.

sainz could be spotted in max’ peripheral vision. he pushed the car harder, engine roaring, sending max flying away from carlos.

“who crashed?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons on the wheel, checking if everything is still steady. he has at least seven more laps to go.

“y/n.”

dead silent.

heavy thick as your name registered in his mind. the grin that has been on his face had been wiped down. his lips sticking to his teeth.

“max?” christian asked, waiting a few moments. there was no response from the dutch.

he felt as if his body went numb, limb for limb. his arms felt wonky - not like the grip he had on the wheel mere moments ago. his breathing became shallow, his lungs struggling to capture enough oxygen, his brain malfunctioning.

next thing he knew he was crashing into sandbags.

the impact knocking sense back into him. sand dust flying everywhere.

“max!” christian exclaimed, “are you injured?”

“how’s she? is she alive?” max frantically asked. you didn’t have a choice - you had to be alright. you couldn’t be hurt, max would loose his head if you where. who crashed into you? how hard was the impact?

max got out of the car, “christian, fucking answer me!”

the line was silent for a couple of moments, “she’s stable. unconscious, but stable. no further news yet. she has been rushed to the ER.”

cars blasted past him, deafening noise drumming his ears.

“i need to get to her.”

“max, the race -“

“fuck the race, that’s my fucking wife!”

the doors of the ER bursted open, a very sweaty, and breathless max stood there, his eyes frantically looking around for anyone who could assist him.

he still had his suit on, christian hot on his trail.

“y/n, i need to know where y/n verstappen is,” he asked, accent thick as he slapped his hands on the receptionist desk.

she looked up at him, “any relation?”

max scoffed, “my wife.”

her fingers made quick work on the keyboard, “your wife is in surgery.”

max’ shoulders slumped and christian took hold of it, shooting a quick thanks to the nurse and led him in another direction. he swiped his hands though his hair, pulling at it, feeling his frustration grow and bubble at the bottom of his throat.

he could scream.

max paced the hallway, up and down. maybe minutes - maybe hours. he didn’t know. all he did know was that he’s staying.

why didn’t he tell you he loved you. with every fibre of his being he loved you. he craved you, constantly. the thought of you was all that he needed to survive - but knowing that you were his wife, made him whole.

you were the person who stood by him whilst he was working through his troubles with his father. on the nights when fear surrounded him, the comforting hand of you, his wife, brought him peace. on the days when he was on his happiest, it was on the days he spent with you.

you made him. you showed him to be max verstappen.

his wife.

news spread around the paddock, like a wild fire. sky sport tv airing out to fans and viewers to keep you in their prayers and thoughts.

some of your and max’ closest friends took off straight away to the hospital, supporting max even though he didn’t even acknowledge them.

they were still there.

an apology from lewis was sent out world wide, and he even made an appearance to max, but the dutch only glared at him, taking hold of his collar, making his friends jump and take hold of max.

“if she doesn’t make it out of here, you’ll regret ever setting foot on a paddock again. i’ll kill you.”

his voice was icy as he spat the words at lewis, baring his teeth. daniel stepped in between the two and pushed max back by his chest.

max’ eyes never left lewis’ retreating from.

“verstappen, y/n.”

max was in front of the doctor in a second, his eyes pleading his for good news. the doctor smiled at him and gave him what he was searching for.

“she’s asleep, but she’s an extreme fighter. you’ve got no worries, mr verstappen.”

he swore he could cry.

the doctor told him the room you were in and max wasted no time rushing towards it.

he searched the numbers above the doors for room one-o-one. his number. a bit of pride bursting in his chest, fate really had put you two together.

max stepped into the room and his heart broke.

machines connected to your heart, the beeping sound being the only indication that you are in fact alive. various cuts and bruises formed along your face. a neck brace adorned. oxygen mask on your beautiful face.

max stifled a sob as he crashed into a seat near your bed, scooting closer and taking hold of your hand. his thumb drawing patterns on your knuckles.

even in your unconscious mind your body still knew that it was your max, the heart monitor speeding up slightly.

it caused him to chuckle, “mijn schatje, mijn alles, i am so sorry. this should’ve never happened to you.”

he squeezed your palm, pressing a tender kiss to the flesh, “fight, stay strong for me, yeah? so that i can love you right this time.”

a gentle knock at the door roused max from his sleep. his hand was still tucked in yours.

max turned towards the door, lando stood there.

a soft smile on his face with a gym bag in his hand, “mate, i brought you some clothes - the suit can not be comfortable.”

he chuckled and motioned for his muppet friend to come in. lando placed the bag by the door and walked closer to stand next to max. he placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“how’s the missus?”

max looked at you, a lump the size of a bull frog lodged itself in his throat, “she’s good, doc said she’s a real fighter.”

“she is a verstappen, ey?” lando nudged max’ shoulder who just chuckled in response. he felt guilty, ashamed, contrast to who he was. he shouldn’t have had to treat his wife like shit. you just wanted to know he loves you.

“look, mate, don’t beat yourself up about what happend, see this as a new beginning.”

max nodded, “she just wanted me to say that i love her. shit, i should’ve just said it to her. the crash-“

“is not your fault, you couldn’t have possibly predicted an accident to happen.”

he shook his head and looked at the bag by the door, “i’m going to change, would you mind maybe staying here. i don’t want to leave her alone.”

“yeah, of course mate.”

two weeks later

“don’t strain yourself so much, schat,” max’ voice was gentle as he looked at your from his seat on the couch. within mere moments he stood in front of you, large palms pressed to your hips to help you walk the last few remaining steps.

this last couple of weeks changed. your marriage changed. max changed.

he was waiting on you hand and foot, even though you have told him multiple times that certain things you can do on your own, he still insisted.

the one noticeable change for yourself and everyone surrounding you was the fact that max openly, whenever he got the chance told you he loved you.

whether it be when you’re making dinner, doing dishes, walking beside him on the paddock - he’d say he loves you with a kiss pressed to your temple. it was and still is absolute bliss.

your recovery went by fast, splendid as your doctor had put it. with time and patience, he said, you’d be back on the track in no time.

when your socked feet took the last step, max couldn’t help the face splitting grin that adorned his face.

“look at you go, speedy,” he smiled as he took hold of your head and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you overtook him when you first met.

speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you stole his heart.

speedy. the nickname max had used in his vows the moment you took his last name.

max made sure that you didn’t strain yourself too much in the recovery process, he treated you like you were his fine china, bubble wrapping your heart and by God, swearing that he’d never let his actions and words ever hurt you again.

he poured so much love into you. you practically glowed in comparison to when the argument had occurred.

his love.

his wife.

max made sure you knew how much he adored you, loved you, craved you.

“ik hou van je, mijn schat.”

and you knew he did.

fin.

#charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #world championships 2024 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 2024 #x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo

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sinsirellaxx · 7 months ago

Note

hello! 🌷 can i request a slytherin boys x reader headcanons? it's a little angsty, though: about the reader (that has an established relationship with them) getting hit by an unforgivable curse that brings unbearable pain to her even though it doesn't kill her? just reader screaming and crying of pain on their arms and begging her boyfriend to kill her because the pain is unbearable !!

also i don't think that the slytherins would be able to do that, even though it pains them to see you in so much pain— so they try to find a solution or something that reverts the spell ? they can't bear the thought of losing you. ☹️

Slytherin Boys – You are hit by an unforgivable and they have to watch you suffer

Warning: Angst, murder (don't worry, the reader is not dead!)

Thank you for the request! x

Mattheo …

… whips around to face you when he hears your pained scream. His whole body tenses, his chest tight as he struggles to breathe while his eyes search for you. The moment his eyes land on you he feels a stinging burn behind his brown orbs, his heart threatening to combust inside of his chest. He feels like he is trapped in slow-motion as he quickly turns to your tormenter, casting an unforgivable himself and taking the life of the cause of your pain. His feet then turn towards you, taking off to run to you – to hold you in his arms. He falls to the ground, gathering your stiff body and pressing your head into the crook of his neck – all the while stroking your hair. He knows how much you love it when he does it – you always claimed it was the most comforting thing he could do. He listened to you scream and cry in his arms, your hands gripping onto his shirt as you bit back another scream.

“I’m sorry, love. It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.” Mattheo brokenly whispered as he rocked you back and forth soothingly, “We’ll be fine.” He added quietly, wondering if you really would be. His heart broke when you begged him to kill you a pained sob forcing it’s way up his throat as he shook his head. He’d rather die than lose you.

“No, no, no. Baby, no. It’s going to be fine. Stay strong for me, baby. Please.” Mattheo choked on a sob as he begged you to stay strong. He wouldn’t let you die.

Theodore …

… watched as you stumbled to the ground, the force of the curse sending you backwards. His eyes widened as he watched your lifeless body, anxiety spreading through his whole being as he watched for any sign of life – he did not dare to move. The silence was broken by your piercing scream of agony as your body spasmed. Theodore gasped for breath as he felt brief relief wash over him – you were alive. Yet at what cost? Another scream from you brought him out of his reverie, whipping out his wand he quickly immobilized your attacker before running towards you. Kneeling down next to you he checked you for any injuries, the frown on his face deepening when he couldn’t find anything.

“Hush, Tesoro. Everything will be fine – you’ll be fine. Try to take deep breaths for me, alright?” He hushed you desperately as he softly brushed the hair from your face with his trembling hand. He ignored your pleas to kill you as he stood up, with his wand in his hand. He turned to look at your attacker who was still stunned on the floor. Pointing his wand at the man on the floor he leered at him. “Tell me, what kind of curse was that?”

Theodore would find a way to stop your pain and after that he’d end the life of the man who caused you to suffer.

Lorenzo …

… roared like a wounded animal when he saw you writhe in pain. He cast curse after curse until he was sure your attacker was dead. He had never been this glad about his upbringing before. Turning around Lorenzo immediately ran to you, one of his hands gripping onto one of yours as he cupped your wet cheek with his other.

“I’m so sorry, princess.” He apologized, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he listened to your pained cries. “Please, be strong for me, love.” Lorenzo’s voice broke as another wave of pain crashed through your body, your grip on his hand tightening uncontrollably. The first tear rolled down his cheek when you told him to kill you. “No.” He managed to grit out as he lifted you into his lap, holding your head to his chest. “You can’t die.” His lower lip wobbled as he racked his brain – thinking of any charm or any curse that might help. Squeezing his eyes shut he tuned out your screams – gasping when he remembered hearing of an ancient spell that could take someone’s pain. He had read about it, and he was very well aware of the possible consequences. But he’d rather you live without pain than wishing to be freed.

“Don’t worry … I got you.” He murmured as he whispered the incantation – hoping it would work.

Draco …

… wept as he held you in his arms. He couldn’t bear the sight of you in pain. Your body was convulsing, your head thrown back as another scream got stuck in your throat. He shouted for help when you momentarily stopped breathing, his voice raw with emotion as he looked around himself. There was no one there to help him. He was all alone.

“H-hang in there, doll.” He touched your cheek with trembling fingers, leaving bloody fingerprints on your dirtied skin, his body relaxing as you started breathing again.

“I’ve got you. I ‘ll help you.” He shushed you, crying along with you as another rush of pain overcame your tired body. “I’m sorry – I’m so sorry!” His voice broke as he kept apologizing for pulling you into his dark world.

Blaise …

… briefly shut down when he saw your writhing body on the wet floor. He thought you were dead. His grip on his wand loosened, his world threatening to turn upside down. He felt nauseous, his chest tightening until he couldn’t breathe – until he could. You had gasped for air, obviously alive. His short moment of relief didn’t last long, for you started screaming bloody murder, your fingers digging into the floor beneath you. That’s when he remembered: You got hit by the Cruciatus Curse. Blaise immediately ran to you, a deep frown on his face as you screamed in agony – you wouldn’t stop screaming. Kneeling down in front of you he stared at you helplessly. He couldn’t help you – you had to endure it. When you told him – no begged him to kill you, he shook his head quickly. “Be strong for me, love. Please.”

Tom …

… immediately took down the death eater who had dared to hurt you within the blink of an eye. He briefly checked his surroundings before turning to your hunched over body. You were screaming, your fingers gripping onto your head. When you saw his feet in front of you, you immediately looked up at him, teary eyes red as you parted your trembling lips. Suddenly, you threw yourself forward, clinging onto his legs as you begged him to stop it. To kill you. Tom stared down at you coldly – if he was worried or pained by your misery he didn’t show it. He sighed deeply, knocking you out with a charm before pulling your body into his arms. He could never kill you – he needed you more than he wanted to acknowledge. He disapparated to his home – he’d find a way to help you. There was no doubt.

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23victoria · 1 month ago

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𝔡𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔶'𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢!

*☾⋆･ﾟ pairings:𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯!𝔡𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔶 𝔧𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔟𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔫 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

word count: 3𝓀

*☾⋆･ﾟ synopsis: jenson loves fucking his sweatpea 𝒸𝓌! pet names, praise kink, rough, fingering, degradation, body worship, overstimulation, size kink, dacryphilia, somnophilia, creampie, face sitting, cockwarming, daddy kink

authors note: porn without a plot basically, it’s been a week since I updated and I didn’t even notice, Kinktober will be finished by the end of this week so i can start spooktober! i’m so excited, send in ideas and characters you think the f1 drivers would be!! i hope you enjoy! likes, asks, and reblogs are appreciated!!

𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱?! CLICK HERE!

*☾⋆･ﾟ f1 MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“Ohh, fuck!” Jenson groans, his hands gripping your waist with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine, and his thrusts are hard and deep, filling you in a way that makes you gasp with every movement. He’s relentless, the sound of his waist hitting your ass filling the room, the tension thick and palpable. Each snap of his hips sends shockwaves through your body, the pleasure intense, overwhelming.

Jenson's gaze is locked onto yours, darkened with desire as he takes in every inch of your expression—your parted lips, your flushed cheeks, the way your body arches in response to his dick hitting your cervix. His grip tightens, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the headboard shake behind you.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, voice hoarse and filled with need. “You’re so fucking perfect. Look at you. Taking me so well. My little sweetpea, aren’t you?”

His words make your head spin, each syllable dripping with praise and possession, only adding to the fire coursing through your veins. He shifts his angle, driving deeper, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl, and you cry out, unable to hold back. Jenson smirks at your reaction, pride flickering in his eyes as he watches you unravel beneath him.

“You love this, don’t you? Love it when I fuck you like this,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he leans down, lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re mine. All mine.”

You can barely nod, the pleasure too intense, too consuming for coherent thoughts. All you can do is moan his name, your nails digging into his back as your body trembles with every thrust. His lips trail down your neck, over your collarbone, until his mouth finds your breasts, his tongue flicking over your hardened nipples in a way that has you gasping for air. He pulls one into his mouth, sucking gently before his teeth graze the sensitive skin, making you shudder beneath him.

“You still want that waist chain, don’t you?” he breathes, his voice thick with lust as his hand moves to grip your hips, holding you firmly as he continues to thurst in and out of you. “Something custom, just for you. I’ll spoil you, baby. Anything you want.”

His words send a shiver through you, the thought of him adorning your body with something so delicate, so personal, making your heart race. Jenson’s always loved spoiling you, treating you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and tonight is no different.

In one smooth motion, he hooks your legs over his shoulders, sinking even deeper into you. The new angle pulls a gasp from your lips as he presses a kiss to your ankle, his eyes dark with lust.“And how about another anklet?” Jenson whispers, his voice thick with desire as his lips trail down your leg. "Something delicate, to match these pretty feet of yours," he murmurs, his lips lingering on your skin as he fucks into you harder, making your whole body tremble. “Something to match this perfect body of yours.” He reaches your ankle, pressing a soft kiss there before looking up at you with a grin. “God, I love spoiling you.”

His words are intoxicating, but it’s the way he looks at you that makes your heart pound—the way his eyes are filled with adoration, hunger, and something so much deeper. It makes you feel cherished, adored, as if you’re the only thing that matters in the world to him.

The rhythm of Jenson’s hips is relentless, every thrust deeper and harder than the last, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches, your fingers gripping the sheets as your body moves with his, every nerve on fire. His hands grip your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him as he pounds into you, the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the breathless gasps escaping your lips.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Jenson groans, his voice ragged with pleasure. His pace doesn’t slow, his body moving with precision and force, his desire for you consuming every movement. You can feel the heat building between you both, the tension winding tighter with every thrust until it feels like you’re going to break.

Then, with one last, deep thrust, Jenson buries himself inside you, groaning low in his throat as he cums. The warmth floods through you, and the sensation of him filling you sends a final wave of pleasure crashing over your body. You shudder, completely spent, collapsing against the bed as your body trembles in the aftermath.

Jenson doesn’t move immediately, staying buried deep within you, savoring the moment. His hands roam over your body, possessive and tender at the same time. When he finally pulls back slightly, his gaze drops down between your legs, and a satisfied grin spreads across his face.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, his voice soft, filled with pride. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Full of me like that.”

His thumb brushes over the wetness between your legs, his eyes filled with awe as if he’s savoring the moment, the sight of you so completely claimed by him. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your belly, then your thigh, his lips lingering as if he can’t get enough.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice low and possessive as he nuzzles into your skin. “Every inch of you. And I’ll never get tired of this. Never get tired of you.”

You can barely respond, your body still trembling from the aftermath, your mind a haze of pleasure and satisfaction. All you can do is cling to him, your hands gripping his shoulders as he pulls you closer, holding you tight against him.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” Jenson murmurs, his voice soft now, almost tender as he kisses the side of your neck.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jenson’s breathing is heavy, still ragged from the intensity of the moment, but his eyes are far from done. You can see it in the way he looks at you—still hungry, still obsessed. His hands never leave your body, and his lips keep brushing over your skin, as if he can’t get enough.

“Come here, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. “I’m not finished with you yet. I need more… I want to taste that sweet peach of yours.”

You’re still trembling, body aching with overstimulation, but the way Jenson’s hands trail down your waist, fingers digging gently into your hips, makes you shiver with anticipation. His eyes are dark, filled with a dangerous kind of devotion that makes your pulse quicken.

Before you can even fully process what he’s asking, he’s guiding you, pulling you toward him as he shifts down on the bed. “Sit on my face, baby,” he commands softly, but there’s an intensity behind his words that sends a thrill down your spine. “Let me taste that’s sweet pussy of yours.”

You hesitate for only a moment, your body still reeling from the last wave of pleasure, but Jenson’s hands are already gripping your thighs, pulling you closer. His strength is undeniable, and he moves you with ease until you’re hovering above him, his face inches from your most sensitive spot.

The anticipation is maddening, and before you can even catch your breath, he pulls you down, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue is relentless, his lips pressing hot kisses against you as he devours you with an intensity that steals your breath.

“God, you taste so good,” he groans, the vibration of his voice against you making your legs quiver. He’s holding you up, strong hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you even closer, his mouth working you over with a fervor that has your head spinning. You lean back against the headboard, trying to brace yourself, but it’s no use. The pleasure is overwhelming, each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, sending shockwaves through your already overstimulated body.

“Jenson,” you gasp, your hands gripping the headboard for support as your legs shake uncontrollably. But he doesn’t let up. His grip tightens on your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, his hunger for you insatiable.

“Yes, baby,” he groans, voice muffled but clear in its desire. “Let me taste you. Let me take care of you.”

You can barely think, let alone speak. Your body is shaking, pleasure coursing through you in waves as he continues to eat you out with a devotion that has you on the edge of losing control. Your thighs quiver in his hands, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, but Jenson holds you steady, refusing to let go.

He looks up at you from between your legs, eyes dark and wild with obsession. “I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs, pausing only long enough to speak before diving back in. “Falling apart just for me. That’s my good girl.”

His words push you even closer to the edge, and you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation takes hold. It’s too much, too good, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. But Jenson doesn’t stop. If anything, he becomes more intense, his mouth working you over with an urgency that leaves you breathless, his hands gripping your thighs like he’s never letting you go.

Your body trembles, legs shaking as you lean harder against the headboard, your vision blurring with the sheer force of the pleasure coursing through you. “I can feel how close you are,” he growls, his voice sending vibrations through your core. “Let go for me, baby. Give it to me.”

You can’t hold back any longer. With a final, desperate moan, you fall apart completely, your entire body shaking as the pleasure overtakes you. Jenson doesn’t stop, his mouth still working you through it as you cry out, your hands clutching the headboard for dear life.

He finally slows, his kisses becoming softer, more tender as you come down from the high. But even then, he doesn’t let go, his hands still gripping your thighs as he presses one final kiss to your sensitive core.

“There’s my sweet girl,” he whispers, pulling you down into his arms as you collapse against him, legs still trembling. “You taste like heaven.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your body feels completely spent, every muscle heavy and relaxed as you lie there, limbs tangled with the sheets, barely able to move. Jenson’s arms are wrapped around you, his warm breath ghosting over your neck as he nuzzles closer, pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder.

He hasn’t let go of you, and you can feel his fingers trailing over your skin, gentle and possessive. The weight of his touch is comforting, a reminder that he’s still here, still very much wanting you.

“Aww, is my sweetpea tired?” Jenson’s voice is teasing, soft in your ear, but it carries a note of affection that sends warmth flooding through your already exhausted body. “My baby’s all worn out, huh?”

Your lips curve into a weak smile, but your body refuses to cooperate further. You feel utterly spent, every nerve ending tingling from the pleasure he’s already pulled from you. But despite the fatigue, a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine when his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on your skin.

He shifts slightly, moving behind you, and the heat of his body presses against yours. You can feel the weight of him, solid and grounding, his presence taking up every inch of space around you. Jenson’s hand slides down to your hip, fingers gripping you gently as his lips brush against your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. Each touch is deliberate, filled with intent, as if he’s savoring the moment, taking his time with you.

“You want me to fuck you to sleep, baby?” he murmurs against your ear, his voice low and teasing, sending a wave of heat through your exhausted body. There’s a smirk in his tone, and you can feel his lips twitch against your skin. Even though you’re tired, the promise in his words makes your breath hitch, and a soft whimper escapes your lips.

“Y-yes,” you manage to whisper, though your voice is barely audible. You’re so tired, so overwhelmed, but the need is still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Jenson chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest and against your back, and he kisses your shoulder, his lips warm and soft. “Of course you do,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a kind of dark affection that makes your heart skip a beat. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

You barely have time to process his words before his hand slides between your thighs, fingers moving slowly, teasingly. His touch is gentle but firm, and the sensation makes you gasp, even though you’re so sensitive it borders on overwhelming. You squirm slightly, but Jenson’s other hand presses against your hip, keeping you still.

“Shh, just relax,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His fingers move in slow, tantalizing circles, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. “Let daddy take care of you, baby.”

You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers work you over, the pleasure building again despite your exhaustion. His lips never leave your skin, kissing along the curve of your neck, his stubble grazing you in a way that has you shivering. His free hand moves to cup your breast, fingers rubbing your tit as he teases you mercilessly, driving you to the edge of pleasure once more.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs against your ear, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I love how you react to me. My perfect girl.”

You want to respond, but the words get caught in your throat as his fingers slide deeper, hitting that spot that makes your entire body tremble. His touch is slow, deliberate, and the tension in your body begins to coil once again, despite the exhaustion weighing you down.

Jenson’s lips move up to your ear, his breath hot and teasing. “Just a little more, baby,” he whispers, his voice dripping with control. “You can take it.”

Before you can even brace yourself, he thrusts into you hard, the sudden stretch and intense pressure makes you gasp. You can feel his hand gripping your hip, holding you steady as he fucks you, his thrusts deep and demanding. The sensation is overwhelming, your body still so sensitive from before, but you can’t stop the way your muscles clench around him, the pleasure building too quickly.

You feel yourself coming undone before you even realize it, the wave of pleasure crashing over you so suddenly that it steals your breath. You come, hard, and the intensity of it leaves you shaking, your body trembling against him as you moan weakly.

Jenson’s hand tightens on your hip, and he lets out a low, irritated groan. “You came without me, baby,” he mutters, his voice edged with frustration. But then he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his tone softening as he nuzzles against your neck. “I know, I know… you’re just overstimulated and tired. It’s okay.”

His words are tender, understanding, and it makes your chest tighten with warmth. Despite his irritation, he never stops moving, thrusting into you with a steady, deliberate pace that has you quivering beneath him. His breath is ragged, and you can tell he’s close, his movements becoming more urgent.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. “Help me out a little, yeah? Just give me a little more.”

Your body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse, but you nod weakly, biting your lip as you push back against him, trying to meet his thrusts. The movement is small, your body too exhausted to do much more, but Jenson’s groan of approval lets you know it’s enough.

“That’s it, good girl,” he groans, his grip on your hip tightening as he thrusts harder, deeper. “You feel so good, baby.”

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his breath comes in short gasps, and you know he’s right on the edge. The pleasure builds between you both, a shared intensity that makes your head spin, and before you know it, you’re both tumbling over the edge together.

Jenson’s hand tightens on your hip as he comes, his body trembling against yours as he groans your name. “Ohh fu-ck..Y/N. Ugh..yes.” The sound of his pleasure, the way his body moves with yours, sends a final wave of satisfaction through you, and you collapse against the sheets, utterly spent.

“That’s my baby,” he breathes, his voice soft and full of affection as he kisses your shoulder, his hands still gently running over your skin. “You’re perfect.”

You feel his weight shift behind you, and just as he’s about to pull away, you weakly reach back, your fingers brushing against his arm. “No… stay,” you whisper, your voice so quiet it’s almost inaudible, but Jenson hears it.

He pauses, his body still pressed against yours, and then he lets out a soft chuckle. “Aww, you still want daddy in you, huh?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a tenderness behind it that makes your heart flutter.

You nod weakly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, and Jenson presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “Okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. “Daddy’s not going anywhere.”

He pulls you close again, his body curling around yours as he wraps you in his arms. His lips find your neck, kissing you gently as his hands stroke your skin, soothing and tender.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he whispers, his voice soft and comforting. You feel your body relaxing even more, the exhaustion finally taking over. But before sleep can fully claim you, Jenson turns your head gently, his lips brushing against yours.

He kisses you deeply, a slow, wet, and messy kiss that leaves you breathless. His tongue teases yours, the affection in his kiss making your heart swell. When he finally pulls back, he presses one last kiss to your lips, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet room.

“Sleep well, my love.”

*☾⋆･ﾟ taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eternoange1 @pear-1206 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @szalovebot

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months ago

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eventually

words: 700

warnings: established relationship, college student!reader, long distance relationship, cheating, not a happy ending, wheezie is a queen as per usual, mentions/implications of hooking up but the fic is pretty sfw

“it'll be… it'll be really hard and i understand if you want to break up.” just the words coming out of your mouth breaks your heart.

“is that what you want?”

“what?” you shake your head quickly, moving to sit even closer and taking rafes hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “i love you. i don't want us to ever break up, but im going to college three hours away.”

“we will just have to go long distance.” rafe raises your joined hands and kisses the back of your hand to your fingers. “im not giving up on the only good thing in my life.”

“oh, rafe.” you pout, launching yourself forward into a tight embrace.

--six months later--

you smile at the email approving you to take your exam early. it's the last one you need and considering you already have a 4.0 in the glass, you don't see it dropping just because you get less time to study.

you quickly close outlook and open up your text messages. as much as you want to tell rafe that you'll be coming home two weeks early, you also really want to surprise him.

hey wheezie girl!! I need your help…

“where is he?” you whisper as wheezie let's you into the house.

“in his room.” wheezie also keeps her voice low. “he might be asleep though so i don't know if you want to wait.”

“no.” you shake your head quickly. you just got home and the first thing you did was drive to tanneyhill, you're not sure if you can wait even a minute longer. “i got it from here, thanks girl.” you give wheezie a big hug. “i missed you too, ya know.”

wheezie hugs you back before letting you tiptoe up the stairs, keeping your steps as light as to not wake rafe.

you take a deep breath when you see his door, excitement filling in you knowing he's just on the other side.

you grip the brass handle and turn it slowly, attempting to keep the door from creaking as you step into the dark room.

your eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness, the morning light blocked out by the heavy curtains. you recognize a figure in bed and take a few steps closer, but with every movement, your heart drops further.

the sob rips from your chest before you even realize you're crying, waking rafe instantly.

“baby?” he sits up quickly, his voice frantic. “what are you doing here?”

“baby?!” you squeal. “you don't get to call me baby when there's a girl in your fucking bed!”

the clearly naked girl, gripping the blanket to her chest is now awake and staring at the both of you in confusion, probably some touron who had no clue what she was getting involved with.

“p-please.” rafe stutters, standing quickly. “it doesn't mean anything, i don't even remember her name i just needed to-”

you hold your hand up. “i don't want to hear it. i can't believe you… this is over. we are over.”

you walk quickly out of the room and stumble down the stairs, feeling like the house is suffocating you.

you don't even realize that you bump directly into ward, practically crashing into him and forcing him back into rose.

“y/n, what's wrong?” ward asks just as rose asks you when you got home, the whole family knowing when to expect you.

“what's wrong is your son is a cheater.” you give rafe a glare as he stands at the top of his stairs in only his underwear.

“rafe-” ward growls out. he knows how good you are for his son, he's seen the shift in his behavior since you left.

“baby, i still love you, she means nothing to me! it was just casual-”

you leave the house as his pleas continue, not wanting to hear another word of his bullshit arguments, knowing two years has now gone down the drain.

“im sorry.” you look up to see wheezie standing by your car. “i didn't know for sure but… but i guessed. i know you needed to see it with your own eyes. he went to a party last night and-”

“oh, wheeze.” you quickly give her a hug. “it's okay. ill be okay.”

“you will?”

you don't know the answer to that question, not for certain as you look back at the house, rafe stood in the doorway but not following you as ward lectures him.

“not any time soon.” you admit honestly. “but i will be. eventually.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @ladyinbl00d @drewsephrry

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year ago

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Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley with a Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Headcanons and Scenarios

Am I back with baby fever? I mean yeah but this is less baby fever and more if Husband!Simon in honor of my first ever post that reached 1k likes in 4 days. Also you guys know Ghostie by now right? @connorsui mentioned that she wonders how Ghost and the reader met, guess who's writing about that?

Edit: SHIT, THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR SO LONG AND I FORGOT TO ADD CREDIT, I'M SO SORRY. The render above is by @ave661

Taglist: @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @theredurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb

Also @puff0o0, my most favorite moot has helped me come up with how they met, UGH ILYYY <333

My CoD Masterlist <3

Warnings/Disclaimers: Reader is pregnant, sick!Reader, mentions of vomiting (not detailed), pain of birth and all the other pregnancy warnings out there. (Extreme fluff)

❥ Husband!Simon who had no fucking clue how to react when you first told him you got pregnant, I mean he knew at some point it would happen but not this soon?!

❥ Husband!Simon who in your early stages of pregnancy was the one holding your hair up while you empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet most mornings. He was the one who had a warm hand gently rubbing up and down your back while mumbling light encouragements, careful not to agitate you from the sickening feeling.

❥ Husband!Simon who was gradually getting the hang of things, getting clingier the further into the pregnancy. Once the baby bump comes in, bye bye personal space, Dad!Simon needs to have his hand on the bump no less than 10 times a day.

❥ Husband!Simon who is a sucker for kissing the baby bump, especially your stretch marks. He will be more gentle if you ask him to because your ticklish, but don't expect none of his stuble.

❥ Husband!Simon whose breath hitches when you took his large calloused hand onto your baby bump and felt movement, he had to blink twice up at you and look down again. Only now it was two hands holding the bump, waiting for more kicks.

❥ Husband!Simon who lets you do all the shopping with baby stuff because he has no idea what looks cute, every once in a while showing you something he thinks looks good and asks for your approval.

❥ Husband!Simon who looks back up at you in concern as he hears you whimper, as much as he wants more movement and feel the little one kick, you were in pain and uncomfortable. Some soothing words might help..?

You let out a soft whimper as you felt the baby kick again, god did she have her father's strength..

Simon still had his warm and heavy hand on the bump, feeling the little one's movement.

"Pumpkin.. give your momma a rest, she needs some sleep" Simon sleepily mutters. Just like that the movement stops.

"I swear she only ever listens to your voice, it's obvious that she's already a daddy's girl"

❥ Husband!Simon who is more than obsessed with the baby bump, albeit his ear over the bump to hear the baby, big calloused hands always have to be some place on it. You'll just find your husband clinging onto your bump, his head on your chest while his arms are wrapped around the loves of his life.

❥ Husband!Simon who was far more panicked than you were during the birth, he literally cannot even pay attention to the pain of your hand almost breaking his from the gripping because his heart is pounding in his chest while you push out the baby.

❥ Husband!Dad!Simon who was trembling the moment you forced him to open up his arms so he could hold the baby. She's so tiny, her whole body almost fits in just one of his hands. The moment he held her, she stopped wailing, trying so hard to open her little eyes.

❥ Husband!Dad!Simon couldn't help but pull you up into his arms too because you couldn't move up from exhaustion. Your hand on the little one's body that was cradled by her dad, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders while he kissed your sweaty forehead, singing praises to you about how thankful he is that you brought life to your little girl together.

A/n: Hi guys, just to start off. I haven't been in a good space for a while now, I don't think I'm in the right headspace either. Not to say I'm taking a break, fuck no, I'd lose all my relevance if I did and I also think that taking a break from this won't be good for me or you guys because I don't want history to repeat itself.

If you guys don't know yet, I've been on the break in 2020 and didn't officially start writing again till 2023, finally entering a different fandom. I feel like taking a break would result into this whole thing again and I can't go through that all over again. I love writing so much and it hurt when I lost all my relevance on Wattpad.

My personal life outside of Tumblr is weird to explain, see things haven't been good regarding my situation with a friend. Neither do I feel good in school, everything in that place just sucks except for two other closer friends. There's still the dreadful 3 weeks left till Christmas vacation. Not only that but I get anxiety over so many things that may be little to most of you.

A mutual of mine so graciously has given me ideas for the next Ghostie posts, I love them, it's accurate and it's great and all however some part of me makes me feel so insignificant. Like why didn't I think of that? Why am I even writing if I'm just relying on other people's ideas? This is no shade to that mutual, thank you so much, hell I loved everything they told me. It's just always my anxiety and insecurities getting the better of me.

Apologies for the length of this. I'm quite busy and my clumsy fingers accidentally published something again 😭Anyway, more Ghostie content is on it's way :))

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #dad!ghost #dad!simon #husband!ghost

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daddyricsdoll · 9 months ago

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Could you please write something with “Fuck, I’ll make it fit.” For Oscar ? And can it be smut?

1k ✭ Celebration

📜⋆.ೃ🕯️࿔*: 🕰 ˚⊹

“Such a fucking good girl.” Oscar stands up from between my thighs, keeping my feeble body pinned to the wall. His pupils blown out and my arousal coating his lips. “So good I think you can take my cock.” Oscar’s hands now doing the work of his pants, before he stops and looks at me. “Can you take my cock?”

“Y-yes.” I stutter out, heart pounding in my ears and pussy throbbing. He smiles to himself before finally sliding his pants off. Revealing his large cock, from girth and length. And to think that just an hour ago we were strangers.

It was no lie that he was big, but I’m also tight, bringing me to awe at how Oscar will force himself inside of me– because from the short time of knowing him, I’ve learnt that this isn’t a battle he’ll lose.

Using his foot to spread my feet apart even wider, Oscar lifts one of my legs up to linger beside his hip. Teasing my folds with his tip that already drips with a bead of precum. Tantalising my clit and making each second feel like hours.

My eyes hooded as I tried my best to look up at Oscar, a sheen of sweat coating his light skin and hair fallen to cover his forehead. He pushes against my stubborn entrance, his groan intoxicating. Pushing again, and forcing my hips closer to his.

“Fuck, I’ll make it fit.” Obliging himself to it. Making short vigorous thrusts, Oscar manages to slowly get his dick deeper inside of me. A sharp searing pain between my legs, being coated with rapture and turning the pain into ecstasy. I held onto his broad shoulders for stability.

My legs shaking once Oscar finally fits his whole shaft in me.

“It’s so hard to not just cum in you right now.” He groans, head coming to rest in the hollow of my neck to bite my skin. Pulling out and then thrusting back in. Replacing his mouth with his hand to choke me. Oscar's other arm grabbing the bottom half of my body, ravenous to reach spots no one ever has before.

He holds dominance over my whole body. The brunette’s lips are so alluring that I try to close the gap between us. But his hand against my throat, denying me of any action I try to make on my own.

Any normal day there would be a fight for control, but with Oscar I’d let him ruin me and then come back to do it again. Cock already stretching me out, turning everything surreal, stars appearing in my eyesight. Every part of me on fire and Oscar just pours more gasoline. Making me helpless.

My desire for him grows even as he forces each breath out of my lungs. Every detail of his dick being ingrained into my memory as he rams in and out. Hot tears crawling down my face.

“Being such a good dumb slut for me. Gonna let me cum deep inside of your tight cunt.”

Words became foreign to me, so I hummed in response, being interrupted by a moan that involuntarily left my swollen lips. “That’s it.” Oscar grunts, hands gripping my ass and throat tighter.

Skin colliding becomes the loudest noise in the room, overpowering our pornographic moans and whines.

“ ‘m gonna cum Osc.” Squeezing against his throbbing dick and wailing when Oscar starts attacking my neck with his mouth, other hand playing with my breasts.

“Release, my slut.” The name would usually bring disgust to me, but Oscar saying it has a different effect. Being the last thing to tip me off. Finally letting go and coming. Still on a high as Oscar reaches his climax. Shooting his cum deep inside of me, and covering my walls in him.

“Fuck, you feel too good to pull out of.”

“Then don’t.”

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jenscx · 5 months ago

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FALLING — kim minjeong x f!reader

marriage life was great. minjeong was the best wife you could ever ask for; she’s sweet, caring, patient… the list goes on. she’s your favourite person, even when upset, you still think she’s the cutest.

TAGS — fluff, zero angst, ceo!minjeong, arranged marriage!au, established relationship, jealousy, continuation of daydreamin’

WORDCOUNT — 3.7k

being married to minjeong was like a dream. you had to constantly remind yourself by staring at the gleaming diamond ring wrapped around your finger. the weight of the ring on your finger never fails to bring a smile onto your face. already grinning at the thought, you turn your whole body, watching it shine in the moonlight.

unfortunately, turning to face the window meant turning away from the warmth of a body— minjeong’s. the girl stills in her sleep, groaning slightly and snuggling deeper into your hair. you take a peek at the sleeping girl, but take no action in turning back. seemingly upset, minjeong’s face furrows into a look of displeasure. slowly, her hand trails along the naked skin of your waist exposed by your sleep shirt riding up. a firm grip of your waist and you’re pulled back into her embrace. it was ironic that the cold girl was an extreme cuddler in her sleep.

she lets out a sigh, relieved that you were finally back in her arms. you retract your hand from admiring the ring in the moonlight back down to rub small circles over the back of minjeong’s hand. your wife doesn’t make any more movements, signalling to you that she’s finally fallen into deep sleep. it makes you content that minjeong is getting the rest she needs. after a rather exhausting day at the company, minjeong had come home, hair tousled and eye bags deeper than usual. you couldn’t help but notice the tremendous amount of yawns she let out during dinner.

if it wasn’t for her growling stomach, you would have immediately put her to bed. yet, she seemed equally hungry and tired. it had been a few months since she first brought up the deal with one of the businesses in china and minjeong had told you that they finally sealed it this week. you couldn’t believe your wife was the ceo of a company when she was jumping up and down joyfully. if she had a tail, it would be wagging.

(“minjeong, has anyone told you that you look like a puppy?”

“are you calling me a bitch? and yes, yizhuo said i look like a dog.”)

you were glad minjeong was such a competent worker who only strived for perfection. her work ethic was insane, and the company’s success spoke proudly of it. however, you just wished she could take a break sometimes. it seemed like her mind was overtaken with business and work. maybe your wife was a workaholic. that didn’t stop her from leaving the company building at exactly 5pm to get home to eat dinner with you though.

it only made your feelings blossom even further for her. kim minjeong, who cannot stay away from her job for less than a day, comes home on time to eat dinner with her wife. it was endearing. a whiny groan from minjeong makes you turn your head to her. minjeong had somehow burrowed her head even further into the crook of your neck, cheeks squished between the pillow and your shoulder.

ah, kim minjeong was so cute.

smiling softly at your wife, your eyelids flutter shut, relishing in the warmth that minjeong provides, for both your body, and your heart.

the ray of sunlight beaming through the slit of the curtains is the first thing you see. it hits your eyes directly, forcing you to turn away from the window. the second thing you notice is that the warmth previously surrounding your body is gone. frowning, you open your eyes, disappointed that minjeong wasn’t by your side anymore. yawning and stretching your arms out, you peer around the room. the duvet has been neatly folded to cover your whole body and the pillows on minjeong’s side of the bed are tidied up against the headboard. you get up from the bed and quickly brush your teeth and shower.

fresh out of the shower, you notice the bedroom door is slightly ajar, leaving a crack for the aroma of pancake batter to seep in. your stomach gurgles unintentionally at the hint of breakfast, and your heart lightens when you realise minjeong’s probably in the kitchen and you can spend extra seconds with her.

padding your way to the kitchen down the stairs, the sight of minjeong with her now blonde hair tied sleekly back. her body is adorned with a cute, frilly, white apron that is knotted at her waist. it makes you swoon.

your wife is humming a familiar tune, you deduce that it’s one of the many harry styles songs she’s made you listen to. slowly, you walk closer to minjeong, who’s still unaware of your presence.

“mindoongie,” you greet, “good morning.”

minjeong jumps, gasping as the spatula in her hand falls onto the counter. she turns to you, eyes wide.

“you scared me, baby,” she sighs, picking up the fallen spatula and transferring the last pancake from the hot skillet onto a plate, neatly decorated with an assortment of various fruits. you giggle apologetically, “sorry, i thought you heard me coming.”

your wife shakes her head and carries the two plates to the kitchen island. you take a seat on one of the barstools, eyes laser-focused on the dripping maple syrup cascading down the pancakes like a waterfall. your mouth salivates.

“this looks so good.”

“I’m glad,” minjeong takes the seat next to you, gently slicing through the pancakes and tasting it, “i think i’m getting pretty good at cooking. maybe we won’t need mr park anymore.”

mr park was minjeong’s private chef, one that her father had hired.

“mhm,” your cheeks are stuffed full of pancake, “it tastes really good. but mr park makes the best soybean noodles.”

minjeong’s eyelashes flutter as her gaze lands on you, “really? i think the one you make tastes better.”

“you’re just saying that, you flirt,” you swat at her shoulder. your wife pouts and it’s adorable.

“i’m not,” and god, minjeong whines. it’s seriously harming you with how cute your wife is. is it possible to fall in love with someone twice? you might need to look it up. maybe you had an obsession— it would make perfect sense. everything that you see, touch, feel, they all instantly connect back to minjeong. you eat at a new restaurant; minjeong would like the tiramisu here. you hear a new pop song on the radio; minjeong would like this song. you see a pretty dress while shopping; minjeong would look amazing in it.

everything reminded you of her.

was that a blessing or a curse?

you hoped it was the former, but with the way she’s almost given you heart attacks with her puppy eyes, perhaps it was the latter.

a poke is felt on your cheek, distracting you from your imagination of minjeong’s puppy eyes. your wife stares at you cheekily, fingers squishing your face, “what are you thinking about?”

“thinking about you,” you answer honestly.

minjeong laughs, “seriously? that’s so cliche.”

you shrug. she only repeats, “what are you actually doing?”

“i’m doing something cliche,” you retort, stuffing a piece of pancake soaked in butter and syrup into your mouth. minjeong merely scoffs, not out of annoyance, maybe out of disbelief that you were still so cheesy.

“i have something to ask,” minjeong says out of the blue. you’re chowing down the last piece of delicious pancake and savouring the flavour when she suddenly springs a question.

“i have a company banquet i’m obliged to attend. will you be my date?”

you hesitantly nod. minjeong’s whole face brightens up, “really?”

“uh, yeah sure.” sensing your reluctance, minjeong slides a comforting hand over yours. “you can always say no if you want.”

swallowing, you reply, “it’s okay, i want to go with you. i’m just worried that i won’t be that extroverted or eager in making business deals or whatever.”

minjeong guffaws, “baby, all you have to do is be right beside me and i would be the happiest woman alive.”

“okay, romeo, you don’t have to flatter me, i’m already going.” minjeong just shrugs, “is it really flattering if it’s the truth?”

you take a large gulp of water.

“when’s the company banquet?”

minjeong flashes you a bashful smile.

“tonight.”

“kim minjeong—”

you pull the hem of your dress to cover the skin of your thighs. minjeong had picked out a black, fitting dress, akin to the one you wore to the family dinner a few months back. staring at the mirror, you take a seat down facing the vanity desk.

“baby,” minjeong calls out from the walk-in closet, “can you come help me?” you stand up, peering in the closet. your wife was facing a full length mirror, her body adorned by a two piece black pantsuit. it matches your black dress rather well.

“do you think this looks good?” she asks. you brush at her shoulders, admiring how good your wife looks. you run your fingers through her messy blonde hair, trying to calm the locks of golden.

minjeong sighs into your touch. “you’ll look great in anything, but this makes me want to jump you.” your wife preens at the praise, like a cute puppy.

“c’mon, let’s go already, it’s almost 6.”

you pull minjeong’s arm, dragging her to the front door. the chauffeur is waiting patiently on the driveway. after getting in the car, minjeong whips out her phone, fingers rapidly working against the keyboard. curious, you peek at the chat.

“it’s jimin unnie,” minjeong explains, “she’s going to be there too. along with some of my other friends.” nodding, you let your head remain hovering above her shoulder. minjeong glances at you.

“you can sleep if you want to. it’s a twenty minute drive,” she whispers, gently moving your head onto her shoulder. drowsy, you let your eyelids close, your hands instinctively going to rest on top of minjeong’s lap. you feel her hand slither into your palm. grasping the warmth, you eventually fall asleep, blonde hair and lopsided smiles burned into the back of your mind.

the comfort disappears soon after. your eyelids flutter open as minjeong brushes the stray strands of your hair out of your face.

“we’re reaching soon,” minjeong murmurs. you nod, your hands flying to the seat to support your body. her hands fly to wrap around your waist, humming softly. enjoying the solace of minjeong’s embrace, you lean into her touch for a few more minutes.

“mrs kim, we have arrived,” the chauffeur announces. minjeong lets out a little whine as she separates herself from the hug. “thank you,” she clears her throat, “i will inform you when to pick us up.”

your wife exits the car gracefully, unable to resist running to the other side where you were seated to open the door.

“charming,” you remark. minjeong has a hand out to steady you, a goofy smile on her face, “anything for my wife.”

you smile back and accept her hand. your jaw nearly drops at the sight. a stunning, white stoned mansion. small engravings of gold studded into the pillars on the patio. outside, the house was surrounded by neat and carefully trimmed hedges. the driveway was crowded, luxury vehicles dropping off their clients, who were decked in even more luxurious outfits. minjeong tugs at your hand. your eyes follow her movement.

“is it pretty?” she asks. you nod meekly, slightly intimidated by the grandeur of the mansion. you couldn’t believe someone would even hold a company banquet here. if it were you, you wouldn’t even allow anyone other than family and friends to enter such a home.

“do you like it more than the penthouse?” your wife asks again. your eyes widen, “no, i would feel really lonely in such a big house.”

minjeong nods, “but you have me. why would you ever feel lonely?” your heart melts.

“on business trips, honey. but i like our house more, feels more cosy and like home.”

she brightens up at the answer. you can’t help but giggle at her cuteness.

“if you said you liked it more, i would have bought it for you,” minjeong says offhandedly. you wonder if it’s possible to fall in love twice.

a security guard greets you at the entrance. while you admire the intricate detailing in the doorframe, minjeong converses with the guard.

“mrs kim minjeong and mrs kim y/n,” the guard repeats, looking up from his clipboard, “you may enter.”

minjeong leads you into the main hall. awestruck, you gape at the soaring ceilings and marble floors. a glimmering chandelier hangs from the ceiling, shining brightly. your eyes wander around, amazed at the sweeping staircase, adorned with ornate mouldings. the room is filled with crowds of people, murmurs bouncing off the walls. at every corner, a table, wrapped with white cloth, holds refreshments.

“kim mindoong,” a hand twirls you and minjeong around. yu jimin stands behind, grinning as she sips from a wine glass.

“jimin unnie,” you greet, smiling widely. the woman was wearing a beautiful black dress, frills of sheer black cloth embellished around the fabric. her sleek hair was tied up into a bun, accentuating her sharp jawline.

“y/nnie! you look amazing,” jimin gasps, eyes roaming down your figure. minjeong’s grasp tightens around yours.

your wife shields you playfully, “don’t look at my wife like that.”

jimin rolls her eyes, “i’m just admiring. is it illegal to look at people now? anyway, i heard aeri will be here too.”

minjeong scoffs, “dressed up nicer for her?” you laugh, thinking about jimin’s crush on your mutual friend. the mentioned girl only smiles wider, “why? do you think she’ll like it?”

“you do know she still thinks you’re with jaewook, right?” minjeong asks, “don’t you think she’ll be put off by you?”

you think back to a past conversation. minjeong had told you about jimin’s ex, or rather ex-situationship. honestly, you had no idea if jimin was purely straight or she just liked aeri. you thank god every day that you didn’t have to go through drama to be with someone you loved.

“ugh, i forgot about that. whatever, i’ll just have to show aeri what she’s missing out on,” jimin winks as she twirls away.

minjeong stands rooted to the ground for a few seconds, sighing, “i can’t believe her.” as you and minjeong venture further into the room, minjeong says, “if i were aeri, i would literally rip jimin’s head off the moment she told us she was seeing jaewook.”

“really? why?” you ask curiously.

your wife laughs, “why would i want to see the person i liked being with someone else? that’s lunacy.”

you nod in agreement, eyes drifting to minjeong’s side profile. your brain already starting to imagine such a scenario; minjeong being jealous. you could visualise her furrowed brow and the purse of her lips. she would look extra attractive when mad. this, you couldn’t deny.

“what are you thinking about?” minjeong’s soft voice floats into your ears. her face is positioned above your shoulders, staring at you with a curious gaze. you shrug, “i’m thinking about you.”

“cute,” minjeong smiles, “i need to go talk to hanbin about branching out into china, wait here for me?” a waiter swerves by, you reach out to grasp a glass of champagne. “of course, go be a ceo.”

minjeong grins at you one final time, and she disappears beneath the hoard of people. you sigh, taking small sips of the champagne. from the corner of your eye, you could spot jimin and aeri conversing. they were in a deep, heated conversation, borderline argument. soon after, they both slipped away from your gaze. you don’t bother looking for them. most likely, jimin would be grovelling while aeri watches.

at the other side of the party, you make out yizhuo’s figure, clinging onto the arm of a woman you don’t recognise. yizhuo was dragging the woman around, probably introducing her to numerous investors and executives. as you watch yizhuo and her guest, a figure shows up next to you.

he clears his throat.

your eyes flicker to meet his.

“hello,” you say slowly. you don’t recognise him either.

the stranger, fitted in a tailored suit, smiles, “hello, why are you standing off in a corner? not interested in talking to the big guys?”

you raise an eyebrow.

“no, not very.”

he flashes an even wider smile. your eyes drift to his hair, black, gleaming, probably run through with heavy amounts of gel.

“i’ve never seen you before,” he notes, “is this your first time attending such a banquet?”

“yes, it’s my first time.”

“i’m sim jaeyun, but call me jake,” he thrust out his hand. you grip his hand in a firm shake, “i’m kim y/n.”

jake’s eyes widened, “kim? are you part of kim minjeong’s family?”

you smile, thinking about your wife, “you could say that.” jake looks blown away, you wonder about the power your wife has.

“she’s kind of a big deal, ceo and all.”

“i’m aware of that.”

“how are you related? have you met her? are you guys close?” he rambles. you're slightly taken aback by the number of questions he throws at you. overwhelmed, you just stare at him.

slowly, he regains himself, coughing into his hand while fixing his hair, “sorry. i shouldn’t have… that was rude of me, but she’s extremely private about her life. i was shocked that a family member of hers would show up here.”

“it’s all right.”

“ah, to make up for my haste,” jake smiled bashfully, “could i offer you dinner?” you halt, gears turning in your head as you make out what jake is implying.

“no, actually i’m already here with someone.”

“i can’t charm you away for a few hours? surely they won’t miss your presence too much seeing as they left you here alone.”

you force a smile, irritated and through gritted teeth, you reply, “i said no.”

“really? who’s the person that brought you here? i’ll just let them know that you’ll be coming with me.”

a hand slithers around your waist, you lean into the familiar touch.

a sweet, honey-toned voice says, “good evening, mr sim. i’m glad you have met my wife, y/n.”

honestly, if it weren’t for the pity you felt for jake, you might have bursted out laughing at his reaction. yet, the humiliation of having hit on a taken woman seems to overwhelm him.

“your wife,” jake repeats.

“i’m afraid she will not be going to dinner with you, as she will be going home with me,” minjeong sighs, rather apologetically. you know this is all a facade. minjeong was just acting.

jake blushes, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know she was already taken.”

minjeong just smiles.

“have a good evening, mr sim,” she waves goodbye, dragging you away from the corner she left you in. her firm grip on your wrist doesn’t deter you from feeling relieved. fear bubbles slowly in your stomach at what minjeong might say. she pulls you outside, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, just as you imagined.

“y/nnie,” minjeong turns to look at you and god, the girl is pouting with full-on puppy eyes, “you let him flirt with you.”

fuck, why was she so cute? all your fear disapparates instantly.

“mindoongie, i wasn’t flirting with him,” you extend your hand to squeeze at her cheeks, “and why are you being so cute? you know i like you the most, right?”

“you didn’t reject him.”

“i was trying to be nice! what if he was a potential business partner for you?” you try reasoning with her.

“i don’t deal business with jerks who go after taken women, and especially not my woman.” minjeong’s jealousy and possessiveness was kind of attractive, you couldn’t lie.

you roll your eyes playfully, “it was just a possibility, and i didn’t do anything to encourage his behaviour.”

minjeong’s pout only worsens, “but you weren’t rejecting him.” you can barely hear what she says, her cheeks being squashed beneath your palms.

“i did reject him, minjeong. he was just insistent,” you explain, “he asked if i was related to you.”

just remembering jake’s surprised face makes you chuckle. minjeong arches an eyebrow, “related to me?”

“am i not your wife, mrs kim?” you pinch her cheek. minjeong winces, grasping your wrist again, “a-ah, yes you are!”

you let go, smiling cheekily at the red mark of your fingers left behind.

“baby, it hurts,” minjeong whines. your first instinct is to lean in, pressing a soft kiss onto the reddened skin. your lips touch her cheek in a feather like movement, softly and slowly, your lipstick covers the previous mark. minjeong stares at you, eyes blown open and a hand cradling her cheek. you pull back, admiring the way her skin flushes again, like wine spilling into her veins.

minjeong is the prettiest this way. all flustered and vulnerable, just for you.

“you’re so cute, mindoongie,” you blurt out. it’s crazy the way your wife has changed; from the brooding, gloomy ceo to the silly and affectionate puppy she is now.

“y/n, it hurts here too,” minjeong pouts, pushing out her lips. you swat at her shoulder, well aware of what she’s trying to imply. “stop it, stupid.”

“but it really hurts!” minjeong’s a second away from stomping her foot and throwing a tantrum. you gaze lovingly at your wife. her eyelashes flutter, big, brown eyes begging for a kiss.

you can’t resist leaving a quick peck on her lips. minjeong sighs happily, pulling you closer.

“only i can have you like this,” she says, more to herself than you.

nodding, you caress her cheek, wiping away the lipstick mark left there. your other hand tugs at her blazer. minjeong leaves slow kisses on your face, from your forehead down to your jawline. you let minjeong have her fun, occasionally letting out sighs and teasing remarks. minjeong just ignores you and continues.

seemingly finished, minjeong rests her head on your shoulder, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

“i love you, kim y/n.”

being married to kim minjeong was great, you would say.

“i love you too, kim minjeong.”

#aespa #aespa x reader #kim minjeong x reader #minjeong x reader #winter x reader #aespa minjeong #aespa winter

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stunies · 10 days ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 29 — DUBCON. dabi x f!hero!reader ﾉ nsfw + dark content warning ﾉ return to masterlist & view tag list

what happens when your curiosity takes you to the league of villains’ hideout? luckily enough, there’s only one of them there to greet you— and the world seems kind enough to let you off with a sweet deal. fuck him just once to guarantee his silence, or so you thought.

contains ﾉ tw dark content: dubcon- very heavy dubcon to be safe, mentions of murder, brief mention of being his pet, fear play, reader has a support quirk that is not fit for fighting alone, forced orgasm, temperature play- kind of, hints of manipulation ﾉ corruption

The day you held your hero ID in your hands for the very first time also happened to be your first instance of being told to stay far away from the League of Villains.

You only vaguely remember the reasoning being that they were too dangerous for a support like yourself (especially one with zero experience under their belt) along with another thing that went in one ear and straight out the other.

A part of you has always wondered why the heroes you worked under had gone through so much trouble to ensure you stay back. Keep you hidden from the spotlight, perhaps- because how could you improve if you were always being protected? It was frustrating to see everyone besides yourself on the news.

Ironically, it’s the same reason why you’ve never been faced with the realization of how weak you really are until your head is being pressed into a table, arms easily held tight behind your back- and an infamous villain right behind you. A real one.

Not a simulation today- not one monitor in sight.

“Shigaraki would have loved to meet you,” his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel danger- a concept someone like you is entirely unfamiliar with. “He’s always had a thing for types like you.”

He pushes back inside- this time slowly, as if trying to brand the moment deep into your mind, and you only manage to weakly whimper when his hands tighten around your wrists, the heat emitting from his body acting as a cruel reminder that he has the power to kill- and you don’t.

“N-no,” the desperation in your voice is painfully obvious, “not him, okay? That wasn’t part of the deal..!” You can feel your heart pounding against your chest at the thought of meeting this man’s leader, breathing short and labored as different images flash across your mind as to what being ‘his type’ would imply.

You feel him throb inside you, and a whimper slips out.

“Ah, of course,” his hands land on your hips before he holds you still, letting himself push deeper inside you until you’re stuffed to brim- full of him. “I just wonder about what would happen to that fragile body of yours.”

“Just think about it…”

You think your body definitely shouldn’t be reacting like this. Underneath the trembling and shivering- your cunt flutters around him. Eagerly and hungrily, as if it’s been waiting for someone like him for years.

“Or… actually, how about this, hero?” He grunts- rougher now, pace picking up enough to make you gasp and lock up underneath him. “Forget the deal. Pay me a visit every week, and the League will never hear about you. How about it?”

“B-but—” You halt as soon as you feel his palms heat up against your skin.

“We both know that muscle-head would have a field day with you.” You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your temples, clammy hands struggling to keep your grip on the table. Your whole body feels numb- disobedient, but he feels good.

Too good for you to register exactly why your core suddenly feels so tight at the suggestion. “And if I remember, Compress likes types like you too. That guy’s got a mean streak,” Dabi leans to press his chest against yours- cold staples making you gasp, and he whispers against your neck, “he’d break you, you know.”

Your eyes widen- knees locking up, and your heartbeat rises to pound in your ears. “P-please— please slow down—”

He ignores you, only giving you a laugh in response. “What a pitiful state you’d be in. Think about it. I’ve been pretty nice, haven’t I?”

“W-wait!” You’re desperate now, reaching back to push at his hips and rising onto your toes to escape him. “I feel— feel weird—”

Something inside him seems to snap at this. You’re yelping as soon as your head is back on the table the next second- big hand roughly pushing you down and you sob. “What a hero you are,” he’s laughing loudly now, “cumming and crying on some League dick. Where are those pathetic bodyguards of yours now?”

You open your mouth to protest, but he moves to clamp his palm over it- roughly pulling you back in one swift motion until you’re flush against his chest. “Those ones drooling over you? How about I just kill them so you don’t have anywhere left to go? I’ll take you in as my pet,” you feel him smile against your neck- sick and twisted, and your cunt only clenches in response. “Be a good little hero and cum if you agree.”

Your eyes shoot open the same time he slams against a deep part inside you, body betraying every single shred of morality you have left when you cum, hard. It takes you by force, leaving no chance for it to go unnoticed by him when you’re clenching, shaking, and dripping underneath him like this. He has the heart to let go of you, let your weak body collapse onto the table beneath you as your chest heaves up and down for air, tears brimming your eyes and he only throbs inside you once more, hungry for more.

“Then it’s a deal.” His hands run up your sides, content with the way you shiver and lean into his touch. “A good choice, hero.”

dividers by @adornedwithlight

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the-fiction-witch · 7 months ago

Text

Little Bump P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Velaryon (Pregnant Wife) Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 2957

Warning - childbirth / gore / horror elements

Jacaerys goes out with Daemon for the afternoon, the two go out and climb the jagged and impressive cliffs and valleys of the hot volcanic island, all to fetch a dragon egg for him and Y/n's baby. The two chatted and had some real conversations, the likes of which he hadn't really ever, had as stepson and stepdad. However, when they returned to the castle a sweet bright blue Dragon Egg selected a maid and rushed down the hall towards them,

"Prince Jacaerys!" The maid yelled, "Prince Jacaerys!"

Jacaerys' head turns sharply confused as to why this maid was running to them, "Yes, what is it?"

"it's Y/n -" the maid gasps,

Jacaerys' stomach drops to his feet at these words, but he forces himself to remain calm. "What has happened to my wife?" he demanded an answer,

"She has begun her labours Prince Jacaerys," The maid said,

Jacaerys' heart skips a beat as if he suddenly cannot breathe. He forces himself to remain calm, even if he feels like punching the wall, or throwing up, or any number of other things. "How long ago did this begin?"

"A meer our after you left," the maid said.

Jacaerys feels his heart drop at this news, suddenly feeling a deep sense of shame that he had been gone so long in this crucial time. If something had gone wrong... He shakes the thought out of his head and forces himself to remain calm. "Who has been with her, this whole time?"

"the maester. And maids. And the queen" The maid explained

Jacaerys nods and begins racing through the halls as quickly as he can, He keeps walking with Daemon and the maid, trying his best to hold a serious face and not let his tears flood. Y/n was in good hands, but he still desired to be there and see their son being born. His heart still races within his chest, however, flooded with adrenaline from the situation.

finally, they reach his and Y/n's chambers both the maid and daemon rush inside without a second thought but for a moment Jacaerys stops in the doorway, the sound of muted screams from within the chambers causing his heart to race even quicker. He grips his hands, nervous to step inside the chambers. He knows he should enter, but the thought of it terrifies him. He has to go in. He has to be there, for his wife. He steps inside.

Their bed is crowded with maids, the maester, his mother with Daemon at her side all of them arguing and debating the methods to be used. But all of it is mere background noise as all Jacaerys can focus on is his wife.

Y/n sits with her back against the headboard her knees on the bed so she's almost crouching on it, her sky blue nightie around her drenched in blood and sweat, her hair a matted sweaty mess, her eyes full of tears, her mouth hung open to scream, her hands ball up her nightie clawing at her own thighs in her agony. The sounds she made were enough to chill his very soul, they reminded him of the cries in violent pain that a dragon screams out when hurt and she seemed just as vicious and dangerous

"Where is my husband!" She screams,

Jacaerys cannot believe what he is seeing. He runs towards his wife's side, and stares at her with a mix of horror and concern. He cannot help but notice the blood, the sweat, in the state she is in. His first reaction is to reach out for her, to comfort his love, hold her, comfort her, to hold her close. But... her pain is immense, and her cries of agony are almost violent. Jacaerys feels like he is watching her being tortured. Jacaerys feels as if this statement cuts him deeper than any sword. " I... I'm here, my love..."

she grabbed him by the hand her grip tight and yet weak at the same time proving her exhaustion. "Jace... They wouldn't tell me where you were, they wouldn't find you, they wouldn't let me see you... I was so worried something might have happened to you" she cried hysterically

Jacaerys' heart was struck a blow. She had been concerned for his well-being. After the hours and hours she had been through, she was still thinking of him, his well-being. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at her words. He squeezes her hand tightly. "I am here now, my love. Nothing could stop me. I am okay, do not worry about me. I am so glad to be with you now..."

"I ask one thing of you, my love"

Jacaerys looks into her eyes, kissing her hand and meeting her gaze nervously. "Anything."

"get. These. People. Out! Of! Our chambers!"

"Are you sure? All of them know more than we do."

"NOW!" she screamed,

Jacaerys nods instantly. He would do anything to ensure his wife's comfort, and to see her pain end as quickly as possible, "Everyone out. Leave my wife to me,"

"Jacaerys-" His mother began,

"Now. She wants you gone just go." He demanded,

the room clears of everyone but Y/n and jacaerys, which calms her slightly she kneels on the bed still gripping her thighs as she gasps

Jacaerys takes a seat next to her on the bed. He reaches out and places his hands on her shoulders, stroking her carefully. “Calm yourself, my love. This too shall pass. Do not worry about the pain. What you are experiencing is a natural part of life, my sweet. There is no need to fear it…” Jace smiles, hoping to comfort her, even though he knew well how difficult childbirth could be. He was only trying to ease her mind.

"I am so frightened... I'm am so so scared" she muttered between her tears

Jacaerys rubs her back gently, trying to comfort her. “I promise you, my love, nothing bad will happen to you. I have never seen a stronger woman than you, and I know, deep in my heart, that you can do this. You are going to be a mother.” Jace smiles, and squeezes her hands. Nothing bad will happen. “I am here, for you.”

she grabs his shirt as another contraction forces it's way through her and she screams loudly her voice echoing off the stone walls of Dragonstone

Jacaerys grips her hands, squeezing them tightly as he watches her suffer this pain. He fights the urge to call someone in, as he knew that more people would be of no help at all. But... he feels so useless, watching her writhe in pain. He wants to help. He wants it to stop. He wants his son to be born, too, but he hates seeing Y/n suffer like this.

"Jace... It's happening. It's happening the baby!" She screamed tears flooding down her face as she clawed as her thighs and her body shaking as she goes though this intense pain she screams louder then anything he has ever heard cursing and swearing at the child inside her as it forces her body to conform. She grabs Jace by the hair and puts her forehead to his as she cries and screams violently

Jacaerys grits his teeth, trying his best to remain strong for his wife. He squeezes her hands, tries to calm her, but cannot find the words. Her screams fill him with fear and worry. He doesn't want her to suffer like this, but he has no way to take away the pain. It is worse, by far, than anything he could have ever imagined for her with childbirth. He is almost helpless as he pulls her head down against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight.

she screamed and leaned back clawing her thighs as she pulls up her nightie and as she does he sees the strange both beautiful and deeply horrifying sight of the birth of his child. Jace had only briefly seen the birth of his younger brothers but this moment was never something he had witnessed, he knew of course how children were born of course but he supposed in his mind he always imagined just crying, screaming and then being handed his beautiful baby, his idea was this was a beautiful and magical moment and in some ways it was but... It was also the sight of his wife convulsing with pain, screaming, clawing her thighs to the point of blood, as the blood and fluid covered head of Thier child ripped her open

Jacaerys stares as his wife experiences the worst pain he could imagine. A beautiful moment, indeed, but one filled with pain and a mess of blood and fluids. His face contorts as he watches this process, the screams of his lover filling his ears. He is filled with fear, seeing the woman he loves in so much pain. Jace looks away, but cannot help but look back at the process. It is almost like a horrific wreck, where you must watch. A mixture of beauty and horror, something that has no equal.

she is unable to stop now even if her body is tired even if she can't handle any more her body is physically unable to stop now, leaving her to cry hysterically and scream out a long scream that took her whole breath, she demanded Jace to take a blanket which he did as it was sudden. The baby's head appeared then it's neck, then it's shoulders and once past the shoulders the baby dropped out like an apple from a tree have quickly picked up the baby in the blanket wrapping it up,

Jace’s entire body is filled with shock and relief as he sees his child born, wrapped in the blanket. A surge of relief washes over him, and he breathes a sigh of gratitude to every god above, thankful that his wife and his son are both well. He stares, amazed, at the sight of the child. It is a mixture of awe and fear, the tiny life which he brought forth with Y/n. The baby moves in the blanket, still covered in fluid and blood. Jacaerys takes a step back, almost mesmerized and overwhelmed by emotions.

the baby whined and coughed bringing the first little cry

Jacaerys cannot help but smile at the first noises from the baby. The sounds are weak and hoarse at first, but begin to get stronger with every moment. He wants nothing more in that moment than to hold the tiny life that he helped bring to this world in his arms. However, he is too fearful to go any closer towards the child, as the fluid and blood which still cover him are not an inviting sight. He is unsure now which emotion is winning inside him: fear or relief.

Y/n doesn't even have time to react to their child as the process of the after birth strikes her but luckily given the agony she just went through this pain felt to her like nothing more then a stomach cramp and luckily goes off without a hitch, the after birth is quickly delivered and she flops on her back on the bed covered in her own blood and sweat as she holds her stomach "Is he okay..."

Jacaerys lets out a sigh as the afterbirth is delivered, The sounds of the baby’s cries grow stronger with each moment. Jacaerys turns to face his wife, still nervous by the sight of her covered in blood and bodily fluids, but he forces himself to focus on the positive. He cannot hold back a smile, one filled with relief and gratitude, “Yes, my love. He is okay. He is beautiful, and I cannot even describe how much I love his cry.” Jacaerys tries to look past the blood on her body, instead focusing on her face and looking for a smile. He wants to see her joy, her happiness at having given birth, to see that she is okay. His hands clench into fists as he looks at her, wanting so badly to hold her close but not wanting to make things worse by coming too near.

she smiled and opened her arms wanting to hold their baby

Jacaerys smiles in response, and watches as his wife reaches out her limbs towards their child. His heart flutters, as he realizes how much she is already loving the baby. He walks closer, and gently pulls the blanket away so she can hold him in her arms. Jacaerys also can finally take a good look at the small life he helped to create, his son, Lucaerys, which is now lying safely in Y/n’s arms.

Y/n holds the baby against her bare skin, the widest smile on her lips, she cares so life the blood and fluids that coat the both of them she kisses the head of baby Lucaerys and lets a tear slip as he cries

Jacaerys smiles wide at the scene of his wife with his baby in her arms. The tears of joy, the gentle, protective kisses she is placing on Lucaerys’ head... it is almost enough to make him cry as well. As the baby cries, Jacaarys comes forward again, and wraps his hands around Y/n, holding her tightly against him once more, wanting to comfort her, protect her, and comfort himself. He wants to be there for her, and their son. He wants to comfort them both.

"he's perfect. So very perfect." She muttered "our little boy, I praise all the gods in this universe for him"

“He's beautiful, Y/n. So beautiful.” Jace smiles softly as the baby cries. “Our little Lucaerys... he even has your eyes, I think.” Jace strokes his hands over her hair slightly, taking her in and realizing that he too was filled with that same sense of relief from seeing that she was well.

"he's perfect. So very perfect." She muttered "our little boy, I praise all the gods in this universe for him"

He wraps his arms around her again, pulling her and the baby into him, embracing his family. She smiled and laid her head on Jaces shoulder as she made sure they could both cradle baby Luke. Jace smiled, enjoying the sweet feeling of all three of them sharing that special, beautiful moment. He held her close, caressed her head once more, then looked down at their baby boy. The boy had calmed somewhat. He was still crying, but not as frantic as before. Jacaerys felt the most content he had ever been in his life, as he sat there, holding his wife and his son against himself.

The two share kisses and sweet words cooing over their baby for hours Y/n rests on the bed and jacaerys paces the room bouncing baby Luke in his arms as he once saw his father do to his brother's

Jace bounces the baby, trying his best to soothe him. He speaks kindly to him, uses a voice that he hopes would be calming and sweet. He whispers to him with words of encouragement, hoping that the child would be soothed. Eventually, his efforts pay off as the baby grows quieter. The baby stops crying, and only his light breathing could now be heard. Jace feels a rush of relief wash over him as he continues to bounce and hum to the baby, not wanting to put him back into Y/n's arms just yet.

"ohh ‘he's’ tired. I feel somewhat offended" Y/n chuckled as she noticed Luke fell asleep in jaces arms

Jace laughs at her comment, amused at her reaction. “The audacity of him,” He joked and He continues to hold Luke, not wanting to give him up just yet. There is something about holding your own child that is so precious and special. Jace knows he must return him to Y/n soon, but he cannot help but enjoy this time with little Lucaerys. He continues to hum songs quietly to the baby, holding him close to his chest.

"you have to put him in his crib sometime, Jace" she teased him

Jace rolls his eyes, chuckling. “Yes, my love. I suppose that is true. Though... I enjoy holding him. I have not let him go at all since he arrived. I wish I could carry him everywhere.” Jace laughed, holding him close.

"umm my boys, my sweet boys" she cooed at them enjoying the sight of her husband and son together, "come on, let me have a cuddle" she cooed opening her arms

Jace’s face flushes red slightly, as he knows he cannot deny that request. He looks to Lucaerys for a moment, then smiles and hands him over to Y/n. He loves to see her with their son.

"ohh hello little man, yes hello. Your daddy is giving you all the attention today. I get the feeling he shall spoil you" she cooed to baby Luke

Jace chuckles, watching her love their baby with such intensity. He knows she is going to provide him with the most love and attention, and he could not ask for a more perfect mother for his child. Jace takes a seat next to her, watching her with the baby, as she speaks. He does not want to break her focus from the child, but he also wants to be close to them both.

"You were so much trouble. So much trouble for such a little boy" she chuckled "worth it though. A thousand times over"

Jace laughed, his chest filling with warmth when he heard that. What was this feeling within him? Pure joy, mixed with the pride of being a father to such a beautiful child. He was proud of Y/n, for what she had gone through, for how well she handled it all. All of his previous fears had evaporated. “He was worth everything in this world, my love.”

This was not a moment to be afraid, but rather to celebrate the miracle of birth.

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