#you MUST know what’s going through my head

[chuluoyi]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)

note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))

“Whoa, so that��s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”

Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.

Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.

A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.

“Mind your step,” he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.

“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”

“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”

“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”

A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.

“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”

You shot him a frown. “Wha?”

“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”

Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”

When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.

"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."

"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.

The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."

"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."

The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"

Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?

Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.

There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.

But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.

The hospital director's son, no less.

"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."

You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"

Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.

But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.

. . .

You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.

"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"

"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"

"Just a little! You really have to try it!"

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—

“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”

Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.

Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.

“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”

You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.

And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.

“Zayne! Are you alright?”

Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.

The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”

“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.

“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”

To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.

His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—

“Zayne—!”

You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"

"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.

Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.

How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?

And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.

Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.

In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.

"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.

Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.

"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.

"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"

In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?

You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."

But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—

His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.

"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and his fingers—

A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.

"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.

"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."

He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.

"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."

He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.

Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.

Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"

You nodded.

He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."

He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.

“Spread your legs.”

Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.

By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—

All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.

Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...

He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”

You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.

He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.

"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.

"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."

You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.

"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.

"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."

It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.

Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.

"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.

You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—

Thrust. So full, you are.

Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?

Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”

Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.

Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.

Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.

“I love you.”

The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.

The first thing he heard was your whimper.

With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.

And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”

You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.

“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.

“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.

“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”

He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?

“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”

“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.

“But it’s true though?”

How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.

And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.

[prael]

Day 3: Reciprocation

Itzy Yeji x male reader smut

words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.

-

"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."

"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."

It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?

"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."

It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.

"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.

You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."

"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.

"I'm well aware."

"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"

"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."

"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off. 

"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."

"No."

"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.

Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.

Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.

In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."

"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.

When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."

It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."

"I'm serious."

You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"

Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."

You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.

"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked—and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"

You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."

For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.

"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"

"What are you trying to say?"

You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.

"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."

Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"

"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."

She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.

The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.

One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.

Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"

"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."

"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"

Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."

-

Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.

You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.

Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.

"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.

It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."

She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?

Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.

"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."

She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"

"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."

"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, I agree completely."

Another step. Another inch towards each other.

"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."

A third.

You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.

You wait.

Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.

Wait.

A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.

Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.

Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.

She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.

Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.

Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.

You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.

"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.

You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."

The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.

"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"

"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.

She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.

"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.

She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.

"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.

"It's exciting."

"What, fucking a stranger?"

"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."

Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.

Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.

"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"

Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.

You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.

"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."

Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.

Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.

"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.

"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Already?

You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.

She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.

Then it happens.

Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.

Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.

"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.

You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.

You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.

"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.

The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.

There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"

"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.

Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"

"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.

Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.

She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"

Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.

"In a great way," you answer.

"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."

And that does it for you.

All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.

You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.

Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.

"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.

Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."

She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.

You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.

A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.

"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."

"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.

Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"

You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?

"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.

It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.

"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.

The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.

So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.

You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."

And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.

The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.

And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.

You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.

An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.

It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.

As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.

You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."

It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"

"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."

Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.

"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.

"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."

"I don't know if I—"

Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.

She leans closer.

You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.

"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.

"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.

Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."

The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.

One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.

It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.

Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.

And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.

"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.

When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.

"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"

"Just catching my breath."

She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.

Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.

"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.

But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.

Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.

She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.

Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.

"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."

"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.

She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.

"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"No?"

"You can leave them."

She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.

[nachrosas]

A CUP OF JEALOUSY, PLEASE | s.reid x reader

summary: in which a rookie agent tries to hard to get your attention, much of spencer dismay.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

content warnings: none, just pure fluff!

word count: 558

a/n: night, night! this is not my best work (still have doubts about posting it, but i kinda like it!) and it's the first time i write something about jealousy! a little late than usual, but that's it! also, my inbox is always open to chat (i love to talk and meet new people)! till the next one!

The cafeteria was particularly busy that morning, the aroma of freshly ground beans mingling with the faint buzz of conversations and orders being called out bit by bit. The team was scattered around one of the larger tables, enjoying a rare moment of respite. Spencer, sitting at the opposite end of the table, was leafing through an article on criminal psychology that he had printed out earlier, but his eyes didn't stay on the paper for long.

Every few seconds, he cast a discreet glance in your direction, mentally assessing the interaction between you and the rookie agent, who seemed to be much more interested in you than in the conversation.

“Really! You're the main reason I got interested in the FBI.” the rookie said with a broad smile on his face — too broad if Spencer could be honest. He was leaning forward as if he wanted to absorb his every word. “I heard reports about how you dealt with that killer in Seattle. It was brilliant.”

You laughed, trying to disguise your embarrassment. “It was teamwork, as always.”

The rookie shook his head, clearly not convinced. “No, really. You have an amazing way of dealing with things. It must be fascinating to work alongside you every day.”

Spencer, on the other side of the table, turned another page of the article with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the room. No one seemed to notice, except for you, who cast a quick, puzzled glance in his direction.

“Ah, you need to hear this,” said the rookie, leaning even closer. “Once, in training, I was told that an agent like you only comes along once a generation. I bet the criminals don't even know what hit them.”

The exaggerated laugh he let out soon after echoed through the café, attracting stares - including from Spencer, who couldn't hold back any longer. He put the article aside and stood up calmly, but his movements were jerky.

“Sorry to interrupt.” said Spencer, his voice firm but polite, as he approached. ”We need to go over some of the variables in the profile before the meeting later. Do you have a moment now, Love?”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised and relieved by the sudden intervention. “Of course. We can talk now.”

“Great.” he replied, glancing briefly at the newcomer, who gave him a slightly disconcerted smile. “Oh, and maybe afterward you can share your 'inspiration' with the rest of the team, agent. I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the unique generation of talent we'll have here.”

The newcomer looked confused for a moment, but you didn't care, as Spencer was guiding you away, gently holding your arm.

“That was… subtle.” you commented quietly, holding back a laugh as you walked off to the side.

“He was being annoying.” Spencer replied, his eyes still a little dark. “And exaggerated laughter has no place in criminal analysis.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, smiling at him. “Does jealousy have anything to do with it?”

Spencer paused for a moment, the blush creeping up his cheeks. “I just thought the conversation had strayed from its… professional focus.”

You laughed softly. “Thank you, Spencer. That was lovely.”

He opened his mouth to protest but ended up sighing, muttering something about variables while concentrating on something other than the amused smile on your face.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I just found this https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdk8Quhj/ and it’s so Jason Todd core

Would it be possible for you to write something about this 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻with a plus sized reader 🙏🏻

Thanks so much if you do 🫶🫶🩷✨

When you first started dating Jason he came across as someone who was independent and self reliant, however this illusion is quickly shattered the longer it continues and now you’ve come to realise one thing about Jason Todd; he has major separation anxiety -or so he claims- and the only known cure is to be within the same room as you, yes that even include the bathroom when your showering.

‘Jaybirdie?’

‘Yes sweetheart?’

‘…do you have to be so close to me when I’m trying to make us breakfast?’ You looked over at Jason who was basically pressed up against your back, his hands were locked on your waist, and his head was resting upon your shoulder as he looks at what you were doing with sleep ridden eyes.

Jason looks at you with those same sleep ridden eyes as he pouts. He loves being this close to you as it meant getting to caresses and knead your plush flesh as though he was a kitten, it was something he had become obsessed with when you first started dating, and even went as far as calling you his human body pillow with how perfect you were with your cute tummy he often used as a pillow and thighs that he’d gladly suffocate and die in if you let him.

‘I have separation anxiety chipmunk, you know this.’ He says and you couldn’t help but laugh at how unintentionally cute he was being.

‘I understand that but wouldn’t being in the same room be enough to calm your anxiety?’ You look at him with a raised brow but a knowing smile stretched across your face.

Jason shrugs. ‘Fuck if I know but being in the same room as you isn’t enough,’ he whines as he tightened his hold on you and sighing in content as he borrowed his hands under your shirt to caress your tummy. ‘I need to hold you like this specifically and have my hands under your shirt to cure it.’ He adds as he pressed a series of kisses against your neck and shoulders to his hearts content.

‘Sure that’s the case, I believe you.’ You said through a series of giggles as you felt his kisses tickle those sensitive spots upon your neck before having to push your hand against his face to get him to stop, much to Jason’s dismay as he whines and tries to bite your fingers, making you pull away from his mouth as quickly as you could to save your fingers from being bitten. ‘Quit it!’

‘No.’ Jason chuckled as he squeezed you further against him, finally managing to burry his head in your neck once more.

‘I can’t make dinner if you’re unwilling to let me go!’ You exclaimed but it didn’t seem to mean much to Jason as you could feel him shrug his shoulders.

‘Then let me help my sweet marshmallow from further stress over breakfast.’ Jason said without hesitation as his hands moved from under your shirt, under your pits and towards the stove you were hunching over, keeping you pressed between it and him. It was a sight so humorous that you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the two of you must look from an outside perspective, with Jason tempting to make breakfast from behind you, all the while you watched him fail to prod at some eggs with a spatula.

‘You’re ridiculous jaybirdie.’ You say to him as he only looks at you with mischief in his eyes before taking a playful nibble on your cheeks, making you playfully swat him, ‘what was that for? For telling the truth?’ You then add as you tried to keep up with the amount of surprise affection he had been giving you all day.

‘I just needed to make sure my marshmallow was still as sweet as possible given how sassy and mean they’re being to me today.’ Jason retorts as he takes yet another nibble of your cheek. ‘Yep still sweet and soft, just how I love them.’ He adds softly into your ear as you lean against him to kiss his cheek in return.

‘And I just needed to make sure that you were still my jaybirdie.’ You tell him as you found yourself melting into his touch as his hands were back under your shirt, lovingly caressing and kneeling your tummy with worship and more adoration than you ever thought was possible, but then again it’s Jason he was a man was full of love and he loved every aspect of you wholeheartedly and unconditionally. ‘What’s the verdict?’ Jason asks you and you kissed him on the lips briefly.

‘Yep, still my jaybirdie.’ You say with a smile, happy to have Jason however you could, even if you were subjected to his bouts of separation anxiety that has him clinging onto you, acting like an overgrown puppy; He was still your Jason after all.

[babywriter]

"Mommy" you said. "Don't you think we're here early?"

"They said to be here by two."

"And it's one?"

"Ok, fine we're a little early, but maybe we're not the first ones to arrive. Look how many cars there are."

The parking was far from full. A handful of cars were parked in the spots nearest to the high school's entrance. You guessed those cars must have be the reunion committee's. Who else could be there an hour early? Mommy and you got out of the car and walked towards the entrance. Mommy was wearing a black dress on the shorter side, a blazer and a deep red lipstick. Her heels clicked with every step and her purse swung in the wind of late spring. She looked so beautiful and put together, mature. A gorgeous woman that made you feel foolishly underdressed. As far as the outside world knew, you were wearing jeans and a very tight fitting baby blue t-shirt that you had tucked in your pants. In reality, this form fitting t-shirt was a onesie that was holding in place the damp diaper in your pants.

When you got in the school, a table with three women welcomed you. You recognized two of them, one you barely ever spoke to and the other you had a crush on in grade 11.

"Hi!" your former crush said. "What's your name?"

"Robbie." The other woman you recognized was going through a list with a yellow highlighter, trying to find your name. "Carlsen" you added. Finally, she saw her highlight while the third woman handed you a sticker and a pen for you to write your name.

"And you are?" asked your former crush to mommy.

"I'm his wife." she said as she turned her head to you with a smile and put her hand on your back. Her hand slid down to your butt where she gave a squeeze that crinkled.

"Ok! Spouses and partners are more than welcome, there's some people that are already there."

Mommy gave you a glanced with a cheeky smile.

"You can find them in the cafeteria, and otherwise, we've set up a classroom to act as a daycare for the little ones!" your former crush continued.

"We will certainly check out that daycare, thank you." your Mommy said.

She took your hand and walked quickly, leading you to the cafeteria. It was disappointingly empty. Two men were awkwardly standing next to each other and immediately looked your way when you entered their field of vision. Mommy, who must've looked particularly dreamy to them, walked directly towards them.

"Do you know where's the daycare?" she asked.

Sadly for you, the taller and more ruggedly handsome of the two men replied.

"Sure, it's right over there. I just dropped off my baby girl."

"Great! I'll be right back!" your Mommy said.

You arrived in a classroom where the floor was covered in rugs and fluffy blankets. A couple of toys were scattered and a few changing supplies were on the teacher's desk. Two people were in the room. Sitting behind the teacher's desk was a woman you didn't recognize. Meanwhile, playing in the corner in almost just a diaper, was another woman that you immediately recognized. You met Katie in your senior year and the two of you became fast friends and after a while you developped feelings for her. Nothing really came of it.

It was a hell of a trip to see this same girl diapered when there used to be a time where both of you seemed to be on the path to proper adulthood. As those complicated feelings came to the forefront of your mind, Mommy was unzipping you pants ready to show your old friend how much of a baby you had become yourself.

Photo credit: @sophiexxlittle

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

[separatetheyolk]

Hidden In Plain Sight | Charles Leclerc X Faceless!Driver!Reader

ʚɞ featuring: Charles Leclerc

ʚɞ you value your privacy. As an F1 driver keeping said privacy can be a little hard. Especially when people don't respect your decision.

ʚɞ warnings: boundaries crossed

ʚɞ word count: idk i cba to count but its p small

ʚɞ note: FL stands for 'first initial, last initial' so for example mine would be 'N' for first name 'G' for last name. Drivers know what you look like, general public does not. Making 'NG28'. The first photo took an embarrassingly long time to make

f1

Liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1.5M others

f1 Breaking: 'Faceless driver' FL28 will drive for redbull for 2025

user1 do we even know his eye colour?

user2 sadly not :(

user3 Can't you guys just respect his boundaries?

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

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"Why can't they just respect your boundaries?" Charles called from the kitchen sounding rather frustrated with the way you were being treated. "The amount of times we've had to convince broadcasters to give up their footage. It's like you're some animal that was believed to be extinct."

You sighed softly, moving to pick up Leo once the dog had reached the outside patio. Stepping inside, shutting and locking the sliding door. "You dangle a carrot in front of a pig, it'll try to bite" You spoke, following him to the living room. You set yourself down on the sofa, leaning into Charles' side and set Leo down. Watching the dog run up and down the remaining length of the furnature.

"You calling fans and broadcasters pigs?" Charles chuckled, raising an eyebrow and looked down to you. His hand rose from your waist to your hair, combing his fingers through your locks.

"Only those who don't respect my boundaries." You lent into the touch, any tension fizzing from your body slowly. "It won't be forever though. Plan to drop small hints this season.. maybe even reveal my face. As annoying as it is for people to try and work out who I am, it's funny to watch them lose their shit."

"Must be nice though. To just go out alone, dressed as any other person and not get hounded by people wanting autographs and photos.. no?" Charles spoke, picking up the remote and moved to put on a movie. Not really paying attention to what it was he had put on but you recognised it as Narnia. "As much as I appreciate people's support all I want to do is get a loaf of bread."

------------------------

f1

Liked by lewishamilton and 503k others

f1 And that's a win for FL28 in Japan! 🏆

comments

user1 SKIN SKIN I SEE SKIN

user2 AAAAAA I SEE HIS FACE

user3 Possible face drop???

user4 idk but I wouldn't blame him if he kept his face a secret this is a whole new level of obsession

------------------------

"Hey!" Charles shouted, shoving a strangers hand away from grabbing the mask covering half your face. "Will you people leave him alone!" you felt his hand run to the back of your head, directing your face to his shoulder. Your eyes fixed to the ground as he led you through the crowd and into a suspiciously quiet building. Recognising it as a building for authorised personnel only

"Causing a ruckus as usual, hmm?" You heard, looking up to find Carlos approaching the two of you. "How are they treating you? Better than last season I hope?"

"About the same, if not more desperate-"

"I wasn't talking about the fans." He gestured to your shirt, frowning softly. "They've been pretty harsh on Max from what I hear.. Why that man hasn't left the team I'll never know."

"He wants his fifth. That's the team he believes can get him there. Everything's okay.. a little tougher than last year. Trying to train me up to take his spot when he retires so not only is there that usual red bull pressure to keep my seat, I need to preform the best I can." You glanced back to the doors when you felt Charles' hand on your waist, leading you away from prying eyes wordlessly. "How's Williams treating you?"

"Ahh.. cars pretty shit. But it will probably be that way until next seaon. Pushing the thing just to get P10." Carlos looked to you as you waked. "The whole new main guy of red bull.. that isn't the reason you want to reveal your face.. is it?"

------------------------

f1

Liked by youeusername, oscar_piastri and 506k others

f1 AND IT'S POLE FOR FL28 IN BAHRAIN

Comments

user1 I SEE EYES

user2 ENHANCE ENHANCE

user3 God I hate this side of the f1 fandom

Liked by yourusername

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f1.leaks

Liked by 1.4M others

f1.leaks THIS JUST IN! Red Bull FL28 has been revealed to be Y/N L/N and what's more, seems to be in some sort of a relationship with Ferrari's river Charles Leclerc!

More on this development later!

comments

user1 this is actually disgusting omg

user2 take this post down

user3 he's so hot omg

user4 ofc he is

user5 This is a major violation of privacy

------------------------

"Babe- babe wake up-" Charles shook you awake desperately, hands shaking. "Babe- babe come on, they leaked your face!" that seemed to snap you out of it, jumping awake and immediately sitting up. Greated with a phone being shoved in your hand.

You stared at it for a moment, swallowing thickly before shaking ypur head. "I was planning on revealing my face sometime soon but.. The relationship.." You two hadn't even had a chance to talk about it being known publicly. It wasn't exactly a known fact that Charles liked men, much less dating one. But even if that was revealed, keeping who he was with a secret wasn't exactly a hard task. But for both pieces to be released at once? "I-I didn't even see the phone.. I'm so sorry babe oh my God-"

"Hey hey I couldn't care about the relationship being known. What I care is that your face is and before you're ready for it to be. What do you want to do about it?"

------------------------

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 1.3M others

Yourusername well, I had wanted to show my face on my own terms. And we had wanted to announce our relationship at our own pace. But it seems that some of you can't even give us that luxury.

Anyway, rumours are true, here's some of my favourites from the past three years with my fav.

@/charles_leclerc <3

I need to get back into the groove of writing omg

[werevampiwolf]

Yeah. At 19, I was finally diagnosed with autism and as unable to live independently without years of occupational therapy and my mother said "fuck that" and threw me out of the house two days later. She'd fought the doctors my entire life to stopbe from being diagnosed, because then that would mean there was something "wrong" with me.

I was homeless for over a year. I'm no longer homeless, mostly due to getting very very lucky with circumstances outside my control (like the fact that I was young enough and had been homeless long enough while continuing to take classes at the local community college to qualify for a government grant for Unaccompanied Homeless Youth, which allowed me to get an apartment. And i was only able to take classes because I was poor enough that the classes were free, and because i had a broken laptop and it never got stolen AND i already knew how to fix computers so I was about to Franken-Computer it into it being and staying at least slightly usable AND the fact that the nearest Starbucks was understanding and didn't throw me out or call the cops when I spent hours in there to do coursework), so my mother takes this as a win. Obviously, the doctor must have been wrong because when I was forced to sink or swim, I've stayed alive (very literally in this case).

I would argue that even now, going on a decade later, I'm not so much "living on my own" as I am "barely surviving", but I try to make it very clear, both to her and to people I tell this story to, that the problem with "Sink or Swim" is that people who sink fucking DROWN.

Because even as someone who was forced, and who managed to just barely keep my head above the water... I'm a very staunch opponent to the idea of Sink or Swim. What I had to live through was horrible, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else. But not only that, I was very acutely aware that my only options were to figure it out or to quite literally Die.

As someone who survived the extreme of the other side of this coin that OP is talking about... the idea that I or anyone else could manage to survive such circumstances and then turn around and insist that the ends justify the means is both baffling and appalling to me, though I know that it very much happens. I cannot see it as anything other than "I suffered, so you should have to suffer too." It's awful to be on either side of this coin, and if you think it's okay for force people to Sink or Swim, whether you've been in that situation or not, than you can fuck right off with that shit.

Side note, I'm someone with support needs on the higher end of medium. I still can't manage to brush my teeth independently, and I don't manage to feed myself consistently, though I at least manage to do it often enough to get enough calories in me to stay alive (and that's ignoring anything other than calories that make up a healthy and balanced diet, because that's not an option for me. It's eat whatever junk food I manage to get into my my mouth or starve). I have to rely on schedules, because my brain doesn't really understand what hunger feels like. I just eventually feel like I'm going to throw up, and if I'm lucky, my brain figures out that I haven't eaten in all day and that's probably why. But there are days when, even if you put a plate of food in front of me, it wouldn't occur to me to eat it. I will just sit there and stare at it (or into space) without outside promoting to eat. I maybe manage to take out the trash or do laundry every two weeks if I lucky, and sometimes it's only once a month, or less. I have plastic bottles that haven't been taken out in at least six months, and probably closer to a year. Perhaps the only reason I can see the other side of this coin is because I basically live as close to edge as is physically possible without going over the edge, but I really hope that's not it. I don't think people should have to be constantly teetering on the knife-edge of this reality to understand that It's Really Fucking Bad to force people to Sink or Swim, or as I prefer to call it, Survive Or Die.

I don’t think people understand how it is to have been behind on EVERY milestone. Learning how to walk? Late. Learning to read? Late. Learning to use the bathroom independently? Late. Every single milestone was late.

And when you have this, people ask questions. People bully you. Why can’t you shower by yourself at 9,10,15,20? Why can’t you brush your teeth independently and frequently? Why can’t you tie your shoes? Why can’t you do math? Why can’t you do this, or that.

And then there’s the people on social media. “Well I was forced to.” “Well I didn’t have a choice” and that’s understandable and completely valid, but there are people that no matter how much you force them, or neglect them so they “figure it out” they won’t “figure it out”. They’ll die. They’ll starve. They’ll not bathe and be dirty.

Higher support needs people don’t just “figure it out” our brains are wired differently. Our brains don’t get that we HAVE to do these things just to survive. So we don’t. And that sucks.

It’s disheartening to constantly hear people say “well i was forced to” because so was I!! I was forced to do things too! I was neglected too! And guess what? I still didn’t do those things. I STILL wasn’t able to meet those milestones.

The big one that I see is “well I’m forced to talk.” And I get that, but me, a person that’s nonverbal, can’t be forced to talk. No matter if I’m neglected, no matter if my device is taken away or I have no way of communication. I still wouldn’t be able to talk. I CANNOT force myself to talk. Get that through your heads. This is my reality, and although yours sucked there are still some people who cannot do things, and saying that they could if they were “forced” is invalidating of them.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I saw you write for Ghost, if you want could you do some fluff with him? No pressure🥰

Till last breath

a/n I had this story in my drafts for over year and it’s been deleted on multiple occasions but I guess we are bringing it back cause I always had a soft spot for it… idk

warning: injuries, blood, guns, shot wounds, hurt comfort our favorite. Our oc’s nickname is Sugar. Have fun.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He hadn’t slept in the last 48 hours. Couldn’t both allow himself to and equally as much even if he tried Simon knew that his mind would not still enough for even a restless slumber. You spent exactly 43h 37min and 59s being held hostage. And still, he’s here running over every single second of when you were there. Cold cell. Waterboarding. Knives. Their hands on you. It’s as if it’s all now permanently engraved in Simon’s brain. A new scar to carry. New guilt to bear.

His head snaps to the side at the sound outside his room. There’s a commotion and he knows he should move but he can’t. Not until there’s a harsh knock on his door. A relentless one. Forcing him to pull the blanket off his body. “What do you bloody want?”, Ghost grunts the doors slightly agare as he stares at the person in front of him. “Moving base, cap said it’s not safe”, Soap says calmly, bags beneath his eyes. He too had been restless. Not leaving Ghost’s side the whole time the operation was in motion. “Now?”, Simon’s tone is a lot different now yet still sharp enough to not appear weak.

“No, I got dressed at 3 am because i love it”, Soap rolls his eyes before stepping back to make room for the running soldiers. “Fucking hell”, Ghost grunts, running a hand over his mask. “30 min”, Soap nods making Simon grunt as he shoves the door closed only to be met with his teammate's foot in between the door. “What now?”, Simon sighs but he knows the look on Soap’s face. Knows what he’s about to say. “Can’t get to Sugar’s room, she must have locked herself in”, he nods towards the door right next to Ghost’s. “She’s not in the medical?”, he frowns glancing over. “Despatched herself an hour after we got her there. Just double check…”, Soap rambles on but Simon can’t listen, won’t listen to it, “I will”, he nods sharply moving back. “With the number of sedatives”, Soap shakes his head and that’s it. That’s all it takes for Ghost to snap, “Soap. I. Fucking. Will.”, he practically growls before kicking the door shut.

His head rests against the wood for a moment as he lets himself breathe. Just for a moment before he springs into action. Crossing his room in no time. Showing things into a bag. “Hey”, he’s slowly reaching out. The clammy skin he is met with makes his insides turn. But he knows he has to. There’s no other way. A little groan fills the silence followed by a pained whimper. “I know, I'm sorry but we need to go, they are moving base. Someone must be on our ass”, Simon says quietly, listening to the uneven breathing.

“I should have tied you to the bed in med”, he says through gritted teeth as you slowly peel your eyes open. “Can you move at all?”, he knows that it’s the stupidest question ever with the injuries that you have. “Simon”, it’s barely a whisper but it’s enough to leave him defenseless. “Don’t speak just nod or blink”, he softly cups your face, “Let’s try to sit up, yeah”, he can sense the dread yet you nod, his arms moving across your shoulders as he slowly lifts you. The pain on your face makes him want to scream. And then your head lulls back. “Shit”, he winces himself before lowering you down. The bandages all soaked in blood screaming at him.

“That bad”, you whisper, eyes not leaving him. He doesn’t answer. His jaw is clenched so hard it hurts but he needs that pain now. Needs something else running through his head. “You’re hot”, his palm rests against your forehead. “Are you hitting on me lieutenant?”, you manage to pull a pained smile making Simon shake his head, “You’re a mad woman”, he grunts. “Mad for you”, you mutter watching his eyes snap at you. “Bloody hell”, he murmurs throwing his head back. “Now who’s hot and bothered?”, you try to chuckle but it only results in a pained expression. “If you weren’t bleeding out in my bed I would throw you over my shoulder”, Ghost threatens only making you smile, “Don’t threaten me with a good time”, just he’s not ready to joke and it shows.

“How bad?”, his voice is firm as he looks right at you. “It’s manageable”, you whisper but you can tell that he doesn’t buy it. “Y/n… We don’t keep shit from one another”, he leans forward, cupping your cheek. “Really bad”, you can feel tears prickling your eyes but you refuse to give in the panic. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, I will make it better”, Simon kisses your cheek, before resting his forehead against yours for a heartbeat. “Come on, I will carry you”, he muses, pulling back. “But the walking order”, you protest, knowing the base rules like the back of your hand. “I will shoot them in the shins so they would have to crawl themselves”, Ghost states casually. Yanking the blanket from the bed wrapping it around your body. He knows it’s the fever that makes you shiver so badly but still, after hours in that cell…

The clammy burn of your skin against his neck makes his insides twist. He endured so much. Seen so much torture and pain. Yet none of it made Simon feel this bone-deep sickness of watching your already frail body go weaker. “Do you still want to get that pottery set when we get back?”, he knows that he’s pulling shit out of his ass now, trying to keep you awake. To keep you up. Until he can change your bandages in the truck. “You hate pottery”, you frown slightly. “I’ve been thinking about a design to paint on it” He hadn’t given it much thought. You had been testing his limits. But saying no to you was another thing Simon struggled with. And now looking at that slight smile on your lips it feels more than worth it. “Did you?”, you whispered, voice raspy as you clung to him.

“Yeah, maybe we could paint a mug for one another”, he suggests stepping past the chaos in the hallway with calculated ease. “You do like your tea”, you whimpered against his skin. I like you more, he screamed in his head. “Why is your heart beating so fast? Are you hurt?”, your palm moves over his heart. One that has been doing overtime ever since. “I am unharmed I’m just… worried”, he admits because what’s the point in lying. “Why”, the question makes Simon want to scream. “Fucking hell, Sugs, I feel your blood seeping through my shirt and fingers and you look like you’re one step from crossing the threshold”, he practically cries through gritted teeth.

Your fingers reach up to his neck, gently brushing the tight muscles before inching beneath the material of the mask. Ever so slightly. Skimming over his jaw. Feeling the stubble prickling the pads of your fingers. “Look at me”, you mutter, but his face doesn’t move. “Simon fucking Riley”, you grip his jaw, pulling his face down as he halts. “I will pull through”, you say firmly feeling the edges of your vision blur. “You fucking better because I would not make it out without you”, his words leave a pang in your heart but you manage to give him a slight smile, “Tell that to me one more time when I am not…”, and that’s it your head falls against his shoulder. Body going limp making Simon hold onto you even tighter. As he steps to the outside his worried gaze is quickly replaced by the iron steal one. Cold enough to kill the stupid ones who dare to meet his eyes.

“Over here”, Price doesn’t ask but Simon can read his cap without words after so many years together. So he simply shakes his head. “Nurse is already insane. Back seats are just for her”, Price claps him on the shoulder. Simon doesn’t speak. Can’t find it in him. He would crack and he can’t crack. His shoulders droop with ease when his eyes land on Price’s wife, medical bag already open. A drip hung from the roof of the car. “Our trouble maker”, she grunts spotting you two and instantly moving to make room for Ghost. “She got wounded…”, Simon starts but she simply places a hand on his palm gripping onto you, “I know, honey, Price told me everything”, Simon is about to thank her and plead with her to do what it takes as he carefully lowers you onto the back seat when a sharp voice rings out, “She can’t be here”.

“Pardon”, Ghost turns back, facing the chaos once more. “The rule.. she didn’t… you carried her and this is an emergency evacuation”, the first-year-old nearly trembles as Ghost fully stands up, towering over him. “Ghost, stand back”, Price places a warm hand on his back but Simon doesn’t move. “Who do you think you are?”, the lieutenant’s voice is full of malice as he sizes the soldier up and down. “She should be left behind she’s our weakness”, there’s no rational thinking as Ghost reaches for Price’s gun aiming it at the boy before firing it right into his thigh. The scream that rings out is enough to drown out the commotion.

“Crawl if you can”, Ghost grunts through clenched teeth. “That is out of line, I will…”, the soldier whimpers, tears staining his cheeks. Ghost aims the gun at his head. “Ghost, last warning”, Price claps a hand around the back of his neck, “Think about Sugar. She needs you. Push it down”. Your name seems to breathe a sense of sanity back into him. Pointing the gun to the sky Ghost fires at the air one last time. “Listen closely you fucking scums”, his whole troop is quivering. The pathetic look makes Simon’s blood boil. “That’s my fucking wife bleeding out in that car right now”, he growls, pointing the gun back at them, “If you have a bone to pick feel free to. But you will have to go through me to get to her”, he holds eye contact with them for a heartbeat before shoving the gun at Price’s chest and climbing into the truck.

“Move your piss bags”, Soap’s voice rings out, “Before I leave you running next to the trucks”, he’s shoving the soldiers by the uniform before glancing at the open back. At Ghost crotched down by you, the scared palm resting against your forehead. “Fucking wife”, he mutters glancing at Price. “Don’t look at me, I found out only because I know how to make my wife talk”, the captain shrugs before motioning for Soap to get in too.

[agarbar]

Don't Leave- Prologue

Sevika x Reader

MDI!! +18

You were Sevika's most loyal pet.

Warnings for whole story: (I will avoid giving too much detail of the plot of the fic, read at your own risk.) SMUT, Sexual descriptions, age gap, ANGST, SLOOOOW BURN (years literaly pass, kidnapping, aggression, Toxic relationship, aggression, cheating (situationship type), Sevika does not even like (or respect) the reader, Reader is delusional. Sevika hasn't lost her arm (yet), manipulation, reader might be described as curvy. More warnings be added later. SLOW WRITER! (sorry)

English is not my first language. I struggle a lot with punctuation and grammar. This will take multiple parts, and its set before the first events of Arcane. Its technically an x reader, but I will avoid using (Y/N) the best I can. There is an age gap in this story, the reader is also a bit weird and obsessive.

Sevika made her way through the crowd, her steel-toed boots making loud thumps as she marched along the wood and metal floors of the Last Drop. She headed to the ornate doorway of the top floor. The men guarding the entrance knew better than to attempt to block her path. The door swung open and banged against the wall, slammed shut just as loud. Silco did not even need to glance up to see who it was, he called her up after all. 

“You asked to see me, boss?”

"Have you been taking good care of your pets, Sevika?" Silco questioned as he reviewed their latest shimmer supply record.

She nearly rolled her eyes at his question. "My men know their place— they do as I say, no questions asked. They don’t need pampering."

"You must already know how vital loyalty is for someone of your position. Particularly the ones you are affiliated with." The man poured himself a glass of liquor. “So then? How have you been treating your pets?”

The woman slumped down on a wooden coffee table, not bothering with the fancy velvet settee. "What exactly are you getting at?”

"Certain rumors are spreading around," Silco picked up his drink, swirled the golden-hued beverage, and leaned back in his seat. "In regards to Sheriff Grayson." 

Sevika scowled as she heard the Piltie’s name. “What type of rumors?” She drew a cigarette from her vest and dug into her back pocket for her lighter.

"Insiders say Sheriff Grayson is going around digging for dirt."

Sevika blew a cloud of smoke out her nostrils, the burn alleviated the itch in her lungs. “Thought the Piltie had no interest in ‘fixing’ Zaun.” 

"The sheriff does have a deal with Vander.” Silco dropped the papers on the table, no longer interested in revising them. “But things can change fairly quickly."

“You think she will start meddling with our business?”

"She might," Silco said, circling his chair to look at his large window. "There are numerous sightings, all late in the night. She visits one person in particular.”

“And you want me to deal with them?”

Sevika could tell Silco was more amused than enraged. Especially by the stupidly obnoxious way he swirled the liquid in his glass. Strange, considering that the possibility of the Sheriff suddenly placing importance on their business was a big reason for stress.

“Sources claim that the sheriff has been visiting a little seamstress.”

Sevika froze for a moment. So this was it? This was the reason why you've been avoiding her for months? Her jaw clenched in anger. Of course. Of course, Grayson would be targeting her... she pushed her thoughts aside, focusing on what was important.

“Blue building, three stories high, store front at the bottom, sound familiar?”

"Yes, I know the place.” She answered, gripping the cigar in her thick fingers and drawing it away from her lips.

Silco turned his chair to face her once again.

"The sheriff has been going in late at night, and leaving before sunrise.

The girl was a..... plaything of yours,” He arched his thinning brow. “right?"

Sevika averted her eyes. She despised being questioned. “I never claimed her as my own, just.. entertainment. A distraction.”

Silco leaned back in his chair, his eye never leaving Sevika’s face. "And, don't you think it's odd that the Sheriff is visiting your ‘distraction’, night after night?" his voice both serious and amused.

No, you wouldn’t. You were an attention-seeking hog, but you were too obsessed, too devoted to her for something like that. But then again... you had stopped attending to her needs. After ‘that night’ you had not shown up at the Last Drop to see her. Or tried to seduce her, shown at her doorstep for some fun, or showed your face anywhere she frequented. 

“Are you implying she’s a snitch? For Grayson? My brat?”

Silco chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. "I’m not implying anything, Sevika. I’m merely stating the facts. Grayson has been spotted entering that little seamstress shop, night after night. And I find it awfully convenient that your little pet happens to be involved."

Sevika clenched her jaw, her irritation and anger growing with every word Silco spoke. "Bullshit," she hissed. "She would never.”

But a small, nagging doubt crept into her mind. It had been months since you stopped seeing her. Could it be that you were working with Grayson? Betraying her? No, there was no way. Was there?

Sevika took a long drag from her cigarette, calming her nerves before she spoke again. "Even if Grayson has been visiting that shop, it doesn’t prove anything," Sevika said, her tone stern. “There's no proof that they are involved."

"We don't, but we don't have any proof she is not either," Silco said, looking at how his glass gleamed with the moonlight. "I was going to let two of my men give her a visit for answers, but I doubt you'd appreciate me bruising one of your apples."

Sevika grimaced at the thought of you being roughened up by some ruffians. "No. Nobody touches her. I'll handle this myself." She snuffed out, her cigar on one of Silco's trinket plates.

Sevika stood up from her seat, determined to find out the truth. She needed to know if you were truly working with Grayson and if you had sold her out. She headed towards the door, her mind set on confronting the little seamstress she had spent most nights with for the last 3 years. Her hand grasped the door's brass knob.

"Take better care of your pets, Sevika," Silco said, "She was so loyal just months ago."

Sevika paused in the doorway, her hand on the handle. Silco's words dug deep, reminding her of the once loyal girl who used to attend to her needs.

"You think I don't know that Silco?" she said, her voice low and laced with irritation. "Just... let me handle this." She walked out and slammed the door behind her.

[hannahbarberra162]

Imagine Getting Baby Fever with Crocodile

TW: talking about children in the beginning, breeding kink

~800 words, F!Reader

First part fluff, second part smut under the cut. I have nothing to say for myself. Send me to the horny dungeons.

~

“Aw, look at that little family,” you said quietly, watching a father play with his toddler on the playground. The mother was sitting in the shade, waving with a smile to the laughing baby while she sipped on a lemonade. The toddler’s short curls and chubby cheeks were so cute you just wanted to squish them between your hands. The baby ran to its mother, the husband chasing it playfully. Shortly thereafter, the trio left with each parent holding one of the toddler’s chubby hands, laughing at something or other the child had said. The sight warmed your heart and you yearned for something you'd always wanted but hadn't the courage to ask for. You were in the city center with your husband Sir Crocodile, enjoying sitting in the shade during a short break in his day. He, of course, was smoking a cigar and idly playing with the halter strap of your sundress with his hook. One wrong move and your top would fall, but then he never made wrong moves.

“Dear, have you ever thought about having children?” you asked quietly. Crocodile glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Hm,” was all he replied to you. But not his disinterested hum, you'd learned enough to know that was him allowing you the space to talk without disagreeing outright. He puffed smoke out of his cigar, tipping the ash off with his hand to the pavement below.

“I just - we could try? If you don’t want to, I won’t ask again,” you said, testing the waters. 

“Alright,” Sir Crocodile agreed easily, resuming playing with your dress.

“That’s it? I - I must admit I am surprised, Love. I thought you’d be harder to convince.”

“I’ve given the idea thought before. It has merit.” 

“”I didn’t know you’d thought about it before,” you replied, your eyebrows hiked high. Crocodile shrugged before placing his hand across your back, cupping your neck with his hand. Pulling your head towards his large body, he kissed you gently on the temple.

“Before you, I didn’t think about marriage either,” was all Crocodile said before removing his hand from your neck. Standing up, he extended his hand towards you, giving you a life off the bench. He reached into his pocket for his Baby Den Den.

“Daz, please clear my schedule for the afternoon. I will be otherwise occupied,” he said, giving you a once over.

“Go eat a nutritious lunch, Tesoro. I will need a few minutes to prepare,” he said enigmatically, kissing your hand.

“I told you not to waste a single drop, and yet here you are, leaking all over me. What do you have to say for yourself?” Crocodile tutted at you, dragging the dull middle of his hook through the slit of your dripping pussy. You could feel the cold metal through your folds, gathering some of the copious come he’d already left there, making you shiver. 

“I thought you wanted me to breed you but you waste my gifts. I suppose I’ll have to start all over again,” he said with a heavy sigh. In reality, you knew he wasn’t put out at all. Crocodile had been fucking you raw since the early afternoon and didn’t have any intention of stopping. You’d come more times than you could count, your pussy taking pounding after pounding. He treated each round like a separate event, often enjoying a cigar and scotch afterwards while you remained in position to better accept his cum inside you. He kept you well hydrated, taking the gag out of your mouth and giving you sips of water for as long as you needed. But as soon as you were done drinking, the gag went back in and Crocodile went back in you.

At the very beginning he had you in a mating press with your legs hiked high over his muscular arms.

“You want my seed? You want me to make you a mother?” he’d  said, holding your legs in place with his bulky frame.

“I n-need it, I ah ah need it,” you’d mewled into him. He’d come shortly thereafter, using his fingers to fuck his come back into you as he stared at your messy pussy.

“This will never do, my Love. You’re spilling,” he tsked at you. Shortly thereafter, he’d manhandled you into a breeding stand. You weren’t sure if he’d had it made in the hour you were eating lunch or he had it prepared beforehand. The stand was simple in design, a metal frame keeping you positioned on all fours with an attached collar around your neck and another around your waist. Crocodile had thoughtfully placed it on top of a comfortable rug on the floor which kept your knees from hurting too much. The height of the neck collar kept you lowered onto your forearms and your ass high in the air.

He’d been fucking you ever since, filling your sopping pussy with load after load of his come. After each time he would examine your cunt to determine if you’d sufficiently kept his come inside. You had yet to pass his examinations. He often used a vibrator to tease you in between sessions, leaving you wanting until he determined it was time for the next round.

“You’ll need to learn this lesson a few more times today. And of course, we try again tomorrow,” Crocodile said, licking his hook.

[scarletttries]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Love Languages (Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: "hi! i loved reading your baldurs gate companions in love headcanons, i wanted to ask would it be okay if you wrote headcanons for what their love languages would be? or just how they would show love to their partner? thank you!"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and reblogged my last Baldur's Gate post! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)

Astarion:

- Astarion has always had a way with words, and there's no exception in the way he sings his praises of you. He is quick to tell you how you have won his favour, how he prefers you to any of his other travelling companions, how he looks forward to the moment you open your eyes each morning. He will come up with a thousand sweet pet names to lavish you with affection, her purring voice leaving no trace of doubt that he doesn't mean exactly what he says. And he takes a certain sick satisfaction in describing all the things he wants to do for you the moment you are left alone together, and watching the blood rise up to your cheeks, only making you more appetizing.

- After years of what felt like indentured servitude, Astarion always feels himself falling only more deeply in love when you do him little favours and acts of service. He never stops being surprised when you've set up his tent for him because he could tell he was battle-worn this evening, or when you fetch him a cup of wine before he's even realised he was actually quite thirsty. He's never had someone know him well enough to anticipate his needs, let alone selflessly step up to deliver those things wanting nothing in return but to see him happy and at ease. He can feel himself grow more trusting and open of you with every kind task you undertake.

Wyll:

- Wyll has lived a life subject to many stories, and finds himself weaving a new tapestry of tales with his Words whenever he speaks to you. A simple good morning is never enough, he must soliloquise on and on about the way it feels to wake beside you, and how each ray of sunlight captures your beauty in a thousand different ways. He will wax poetic as you stroll through the lands, letting you know exactly what he admires about you, and exactly what your future adventures together would mean to him. He wants nothing more than to tell you the story that he sees the two of you writing together, every sweet word just another reminder that there's never been anything more important to him than you.

- You can show Wyll how much you care about him by just being there and sticking by for all the quality time he needs. This may include a lot of listening to the heartbreaking tale of his father's scorn, and sitting in supportive silence as he tries to let go of some of the weight he has carried on his shoulders thus far. You also need to be willing to put in the time to learn a dance or two, the retracing of steps bringing warmth to Wyll's heart and flooding him with all the brightest memories of his childhood. And when the dances have your bodies twisting closer and closer then Wyll has another idea of how you can spend some quality time together.

Gale:

- While Gale does see himself as a man of adventure, he is first and foremost a scholar of the magical arts and that requires a certain amount of Quality Time spent with his books. As he makes space in his life and heart for you, he views his time with you as equally precious. He loves that you two can sit quietly next to each other reading for hours, or just swapping stories of your adventures. He knows if the gravity of it all is getting on top of him, he can pass an easy day resting his head in your lap while the two of you discuss what the future could hold for you, giving him reason after reason to keep on fighting and never surrender to ache in his chest. On the rare occasions that Gale has to spend the day away from you, prepare yourself for the most dramatic reunion you can imagine when he returns - sweeping you into his arms, ready to cling by your side as he tells you everything you missed while being apart.

- Gale has heard and read a lot of pretty words in his time, knowing they are often not to be trusted in their intended meaning. So rather than telling Gale you care, you find it much more effective to just show him with your touch. He's a needy boy at the best of times anyway, but with a gentle caress of your fingers over the nape of his neck you can render the chatty wizard speechless and completely entranced. It's difficult to overstate how much of Gale's day he spends thinking about when it all grows dark and finally he can retire into your bed roll and feel your skin pressed against his, feeling completely safe and content in your company.

Shadowheart:

- Despite having little to offer and no intrinsic idea of an item's value, Shadowheart finds herself compelled to offer you small gifts and tokens of affection as you travel together. It might be an especially well aged bottle of wine picked up while exploring some abandoned castle, a bottle she hopes the two of you can share as the sun is setting that night. It might be a resilient flower she sees sprouting from a hillside, she can't help but tuck it behind your ear and marvel at the way it draws out the highlights in your eyes. A cup of water from a glistening stream, a smooth pebble plucked from the shore, a sweet handful of berries found deep in a thicket. Her hand is constantly extending out towards you, with some small reminder that you are never far from her thoughts.

- So much of Shadowheart's life has a been shrouded in dishonesty and mystery, so when you speak to her with only kindness and truth she comes to really value those Words of Affirmation. Giving her your honest opinion, and letting her talk through whatever moral quandary is playing on her mind, will strengthen the deep understanding you share and remind her of the way you give her something no one else has before. Let her know you're thinking of her too, that you care about how she's doing, and you like her no matter what version of herself she is becoming, and Shadowheart will continue to open her heart and mind to you again and again.

Karlach:

- Karlach has always been a helpful soul, even if she's been misguided in the past about who she's been helping. So her favourite way to show you she cares is through Acts of Service, doing little tasks for you and reinforcing that your life will just be easier if you keep her around and ideally very close by. She is particularly happy when she gets to do something for you that doubles as an excuse to show off her statuesque build; reaching something off a high shelf, lifting some heavy boulder out of your way, carrying you in her arms when the day has been long and there's still a journey ahead of you. She feels like she needs to improve your life in all these tangible ways in order to let you know just how appreciated you are, even though it would be impossible to ever feel like you were being taken for granted by this loving soldier.

- After decades of burning ultimately hot because of the infernal engine in her chest Karlach has become used to being a certain level of touch-starved. But when you first celebrate her mended heart by throwing your arms over her shoulders, all that need and want come flooding back in a landslide and Karlach is sure she'll never be able to stop squeezing you again. Show Karlach love through physical affection and this fierce warrior will be melting like a puddle into your lap at the slightest touch. Wake her with a hug each morning, let her fingers grip your hand as you explore the treacherous world, squeeze her thigh as you settle round the campfire each evening. Remind her you're there, and let her cling to you in a way she has always craved, and you'll have a very happy Barbarian on your hands.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All Ye Faithful

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, lactation, PPD mentions, cheating, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You are on the hunt for the perfect present but the price is steeper than you expect.

Character: Loki

Day Twenty-Six of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - there's only one of these left and i need it more than you.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Is he okay?” You ask as your fingers squeeze around the grooves of the steering wheel. 

“He’s fine,” Ellie almost laughs over the babbling, “aren’t you, Lil Griffy?” 

She cooes as your heart patters wildly. You’re stress level is at your ears. Your head almost hurts from the tension wound through you; or maybe it’s that you keep squinting to see the road beneath the cones cast by the street lights.  

You hate waiting until the last minute, but despite your best effort, it’s come down to the wire. This is your last chance to make Christmas perfect. 

The morning was a whirlwind. Your son, Griffin, shrieking as you tried to feed him breakfast, the email buried beneath all the dozens of Black Friday and holiday promotions. The order you placed over a month ago was canceled the week after. You don’t know how you missed it but you did. Now you have to figure this out. 

“I won’t be long. If he starts freaking out, you can give him some baby advil for his teeth. He’s been cutting some--” 

“Hey, I got it, mama,” your sister insists. “Enjoy the time to yourself. Please. I'm sure tomorrow is going to be a lot.” 

“Right,” you agree dully. “I’ll call you when I'm on the way back.” 

You hang up with the flick of your thumb, the button depressing beneath and the music coming back to life from the stereo. Something about the beat addles you further.

This isn’t how you imagined your baby’s first Christmas. While you also envisioned a little extra help from your fiance, you didn’t intend to be driving around to meet strangers to purchase gifts like some underworld arms’ deal. 

Ellie recommended the marketplace app. She got a bunch of stuff for her wedding there and she even bartered some designer pieces along the way. She’s always been better at everything. It’s probably why your son wasn’t freaking out for the first time in days. 

Your GPS tells you to turn left and concludes the trip, noting that your destination is on your right. The storefront glows but the ‘Open’ sign is out. Much like the rest of the shops in the area. If you had any other choice, you would take it over this hand-off. 

You pull into the lot and put your car in park. You scoop your phone out of the cup holder and open up the app. You send a message to the seller that you’ve arrived. You restlessly jiggle your foot over the pedal and stare at the snow-laden curbs and salt-streaked brick. 

You flutter your fingers over the wheel and your chest furls into a cluster of nerves. What if it’s a scam? What if they don’t show up? Typical that the one big gift you had your heart set on is the one thing you can’t get a hold of. 

A car pulls up next to yours and your phone buzzes. That must be them. You glance over at the dark silhouette behind the tinted window. Your family-friendly car is not cheap by any means but the luxury vehicle suggests an income you can only aspire to. 

You get out and shove your hand into your pocket, checking for the envelope of cash. You hesitate as you once more glance over at the other car. It’s too expensive to be a criminal, right? Or maybe you just walked straight into a mugging. 

Their door opens as you hover behind your trunk, uncertain of how far to go. A sleek, dark-haired man steps out. He’s tall and his black locks are tidy and combed back behind his nape. He wears a well-cut suit beneath a fur-trimmed collar. You didn’t bother to change out of your flour-dusted hoodie and jeans. 

You bite your lower lip and swallow your fear. 

“Uh, hi, you’re uh...” you blink and try to remember his name. He says your first. 

“I’ve got the toy,” he declares plainly. 

“Oh, great, er... can I see it?” You ask. Essie says always see it first before you hand over the payment. She even gave you a tip to barter down by offering a pick-up. It seemed safer than giving a stranger your address anyhow. 

“If you insist,” he strides forward, his posture straight, somewhat condescending just in the slant of his chin. You back up as he passes and circles around to open his trunk. You inch towards him and peek inside. “For your inspection.” 

He waves his hand indifferently and you examine the packaging for the sensory set. You’ve been watching videos and reading all these Montessori articles about it. You just want the best for Griffon. 

You nod and face him. He slides his phone from his pocket and clucks. You take out the brown bank envelope. “I have the money. Thanks for meeting me--” 

“Hm, I’ve got an offer for two hundred more,” he turns his screen to you. “And they can meet me here as well.” 

“What?” You gasp. “But I'm here.” You wag the envelope at him. “I need this. Please.” 

“Very well you might but--” 

“I can get two hundred more,” you beg, heart rending at yet another expense. “There’s an ATM close by. I’ll go take it out.” 

“I suppose, if you are quicker than the other buyer,” he drones. 

You frown. He doesn’t care. This is all just extortion to him. He doesn’t look like the type to need a baby toy. Essie did say there are a lot of resellers on the app. Wow, that’s just despicable. Still, you came all this way, you’re not willing to just give up. 

“Or...” he interrupts your inner turmoil. You flinch and look at him as his eyes flick up and down. “If you are especially desperate, I might accept a different currency.” 

You arch your brows, “uh, yeah, I got cashapp or venmo--” 

“I’m not referring to money,” he intones. 

The cold air turns bitter with silence. You stand staring at him, confused, as he watches you in turn; unflinching. The dimple in his cheek confirms your suspicions. He can’t mean that. No, not that. Look at you, you’re an underslept, overworked mother in a nursing bra and stained jeans. 

“Excuse me?” You utter. 

“It seems a bargain we might both benefit from. For my trouble, I could use something more than numbers in my account, and you, an obviously neglected housewife, might pretend it is that tending you so desire.” 

“Huh? That’s-- that’s... gross,” you wilt. 

“And yet you’ve not slapped me or walked away, so I dare say you are considering it,” he smirks. “And certainly, you are here to ensure you precious child has their perfect holiday. I would surmise it is their first--” 

“Please, don’t-- don’t talk about my son,” you plead and clutch the envelope, looking down at your shaking hands. 

“I’d rather not. Bit of a mood killer, honestly,” he snickers. “So?” 

You chew your lip, letting it flick out from under your teeth. Your eyes well and burn. You can’t believe you’re even thinking about it. You just want that one day. You just want one victory after messing up every other thing. 

You nod and lift your chin, only halfway as you can barely look at that man; a stranger. You hold out the envelope. He takes it, his fingers brushing yours, and he tucks it into his pocket. 

“You may wait for me,” he gestures to his car, “I’ll let the other seller know the item is no longer available.” 

His glee is clear in his tone. You’re sick to your stomach. You drag your feet away from him and go around the other side of the car. 

“In the back, darling, it’ll be easier.” 

You stop and face the car. Does he want... everything? Or just a hand... or... 

You open the door and sit on the edge of the seat. As you shut the door, you lean on it and hang your head. You’re more than terrified of what you’ve just agreed to. You’re terrified of yourself.

Are you so low as to go through with this? What if Brodie finds out? It’s cheating, technically. No, in all ways. 

The other door opens and lets in a wintry gale that adds to the iciness in your veins. Your throat tightens around a wave of nausea. The man sighs as he closes the door and settles in with a wiggle of his shoulders. He might be awful but you’re worse for going along with it. For what? A toy. 

No, this is for Christmas. It’s for your son. You just want him to be happy. You don’t need your husband telling you how you fucked up another thing. 

“Take the sweater off. Whatever that is... it’s not very intriguing,” he points to the stain on your hoodie. It could be chocolate from baking or something inedible. 

You wince and clasp the fabric in your fists. Slowly you strip away the hoodie. You have only your nursing bra beneath; grey and plain, the thin fabric wet as you leak through. You shudder and hunch your shoulders. Your swollen tits bulge over the flimsy cups as you try to hide the stretch marks on your stomach with you bundled hoodies. 

“Mm, yes, delightful,” he purrs and surprises you as his fingers reach to the strap of your bra. 

You squeak as he easily tugs free the cup and peels it away, exposing your raw nipple. You don’t have time to react as he leans in and bows to take the pert bud between his lips. You cry out in shock as he suckles and you watch his dark head helplessly. 

His hand comes up to grope the other side of your chest. You moan in response to the heaviness in his grasp. You’re sickened as he is entirely unbothered at the trickle of milk that rolls from the corner of his mouth, yet a twinge deep down scalds you with shame. Your own fiance won’t touch you because of the way you leak; or maybe it’s rest of your; the loose skin and the stretch marks... 

He groans as he rolls your nipple between his teeth and you cry out at the tenderness. He continues to fondle you as his saliva mingles with your milk. You are repulsed but cozened by his diligence. 

Your eyes wander around the luxurious interior of the car, a wall of tears blurring your reality, before you find your way back to him. He doesn’t seem the type. Too wealthy and refined, yet here he is feeling you up in the back of his car. You repress another heave of disgust. 

“Supple,” he pulls back and opens the other side of your bra, your tits hanging free. “Yes, yes, I know,” he continues the one-sided conversation as you sit mute and dump, tingling from his touch, “we both have places to be.” 

He sits back and pushes open his jacket. He shrugs free of the wool and lets the coat open across the seat behind him. He swiftly unbuckles his belt and opens his fly. You watch without reaction. Your body won’t respond to your horror. 

“Come,” he reaches into his briefs as he lifts himself slightly off the seat, pushing both pants and undergarments down as he pulls his dick free. He strokes himself as he reclines again. “You’ve had a child, you should know how these things work.” 

You exhale shakily. You reach for him as he continues to pump himself and he swats you away meanly. 

“I’ve not the time for all that, get in my lap.” 

His blunt demand puts you further off-balance. You move without thinking. This needs to be over. You have a son to get home to. 

And a fiance. 

You turn and stand up, bent over in the tight space, and push down your jeans to your ankles. He might see your unshaven legs or the rest of you and change his mind still. You’d almost rather that humiliation than the guilt of what you’ve resigned yourself to. 

He doesn’t stop you. He only hums as you move awkwardly to kneel on the seat and lift your knee over him to straddle his lap. You grasp his shoulder first then recoil as if burnt. You brace the seat instead as you set your legs, your ankles kept awkwardly together by the tangle of denim. 

He frames your hips with his large hand and you wince again. It’s so strange to be touched in that way. Not to be tugged and teethed at, or have someone screaming or crying in your ear at the same time. 

He pushes you down as he guides his tip along your lips. You quiver at the reminder of what you haven’t felt in so long. At those needs you pushed so far down you convinced yourself they just weren’t there anymore. 

He eases into you as you let your hips drop. You gasp at the sensation. It’s snug and warm and... he said you were ruined. That one-time you tried and Brodie stopped you. Never mind, he said. And you saw the reddit post he left open the next day; ‘my wife ruined by childbirth. What can I do?’ 

Ugh, don’t think about that. 

Another moan rolls from your throat as you hang your head back. You sink down onto the stranger’s lap and he fills you up easily. You claw the seats as his other hand squeezes your chest again. He pulls you closer as he guides your hips in a slow motion. 

The crawl of his own low, sultry voice singes away all your doubts and damnation. You lose yourself in the carnal melding of your bodies. You are not a mother or a fiancee or anything but needy. Your grip slips from the leather and onto his shoulders. 

He bends to once more nip and suck at your chest. He keeps you moving as he rocks from below. He doesn’t let up as he buries his face in your cleavage. His large hand splays across your back and he squeezes your hip tighter and tighter. 

The fire roars inside of you, trapping you both as you chase that final spark. You buck against him desperately and his nose brushes up to your collar bone. He bites into your shoulder and drones as he hooks his hand down around your ass. 

You quake in a noiseless orgasm, choked of your voice as your muscles contract in ecstasy and relief. You only realise then how much you needed this. How much you longed for that release. How long you just wanted to be needed for more than a feeding or rocking or changing. 

He bursts inside of you in a warm deluge. You gasp as sense slaps you across the face. What are you doing? He’s not protected. You aren’t either. Why didn’t you even think of that?

He curls his arms around you and presses his hand against your shoulder as he ruts up into you until the last drop. You push on his arms but he doesn’t relent. Not until he’s weak and trembling. 

He lets you go, arms falling slack to his sides, and he sighs. He snickers as his lips curl and you sit back to look him in the face. His green eyes sparkle in triumph. 

“What did you do?” You drag yourself off of him and angle awkwardly as you cover your cunt with your hand. 

He tuts, “don’t make a mess.” 

“Me--” You retort. “I...” You lean your knees on the seat as you try to scrap his cum off of you, wiping it on your hoodie. “You--” 

“And it isn’t what I’ve done, you should worry for, darling,” he taunts. “Ask yourself that very question.” 

You look at him and hiss. You don’t have any defense. Because he’s right. Because you did this. For a goddamn toy.  

His eyes drift down to your chest and he winks. “They payment was adequate. You make have your prize.” 

[meeinthesea]

THE COUNTDOWN TO FERVOUR — gojo satoru

outline — who knew a new year’s party would have you and satoru ending the year in a more than unforgettable manner?

contains — gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff, smut, oral (blowjob), fingering, hints at top!satoru (?), a bit of plot (not that much honestly :/), let me know if i forget anything !

wc — 2.9k

a/n — my first time writing smut, i hope it's not that awkward... also sorry for any typos :>

“we don’t have to do this...” satoru says, his voice low, almost a plea. he leans back against the couch, restless gaze flickering between you and the carpet, “it's fine, really.”

no, it isn't. his pants feel way too tight, rough fabric stretching taut on his lean muscles, and not to mention the painful throbbing pulsing down his thighs makes it hard to breathe, to think but he still holds himself back — for you.

he doesn't want to lose control, doesn't want to pressure you into doing something that might be uncomfortable for you — something you might regret later on.

he swallows and puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back when your hands brush against his belt — your touch a bolt of electricity spreading through the nerves in his system.

satoru shakes his head, catching your hands in his, feeling you squeeze him gently, a low apology on the tip of your tongue, “it's okay, baby...”

he can't even breathe properly not when you're this close to him, your voice dripping with the same emotion that has plagued every cell of his brain, sweet floral perfume infiltrating his nostrils, travelling straight to his lower body, leaving it all tingly and almost numb, “not your fault...”

and it really isn't. no one knows how things accelerated to something like this — a situation both you and satoru don't know how to handle.

but the nagging voice in his mind tells him that it was indeed your fault.

the moment you stepped out of the door hand in hand with satoru was the moment the downfall of his self-control began.

a few hours ago, the two of you set off to a new year's party, you were oh so graciously invited to by one of your close friends. and as a respectful friend, you couldn't miss attenting, so you just had to drag satoru with you, knowing he would definitely not mind some time off from his duties.

the party was a blast. the moment you entered, everything and everyone was full of life. energy bubbling in every corner, loud music blaring from the speakers accompanies the continuous chatter of what seemed like a hundred people — all smushed together in a small beach side villa.

just your typical and boring year end get together that satoru was getting tired of fast.

though he certainly wasn't disappointed, dashing straight to the sweets and snacks counter the moment you both exchanged greetings with the host, “this tastes so so good,” he nearly moaned at the sweet and vanilla flavour bursting on his taste buds as he chewed onto the soft bread, gobbling down the entire piece of pastry in one go, “easy there toru, we still need to eat dinner.”

the massive buffet arranged for dinner was truly a sight out of this world. the numerous delicacies from around the globe decorating the long table along with the fresh and delicious aroma of the spices and the condiments heavy in the air had his mouth watering even before he made it to the first serving.

by the time dinner ended, satoru was struggling to walk with how full his belly was. gods, but he really didn’t want to say goodbye to the dishes delivered straight from the kitchens of heaven itself, “can we please ask them to pack some for us?” you only looked at him blankly before hitting him on his head, which immediately has him slapping your rear in front of everyone.

aside from catching up with your long-lost friends and co-workers, you and satoru were waiting for a year-end surprise, and here's the problem. sure, they must have served something (satoru reckons it was definitely alcohol) while both of you were lounging on the balcony outside, you must have drank maybe a couple of glasses or perhaps it was him snatching every cup from the server's tray.

though you reckon it was him, wrapping his arm around you, tracing his hand up and down your back, which lingered dangerously close to your lower body. or maybe it was the way you looked at him — hooded eyes staring at him with your plump cheeks reflecting off the red from the fairy lights, lips puckered slightly as if anticipating something — the one look he had never seen on you before. but he knows that it was your fingers curling in his collar, slotting your lips against his the moment the countdown hit zero. fireworks erupted in the background, and he swore some ignited in his chest, too.

yeah, it was definitely you blowing the fire that had begun to flicker in his body. naughty girl.

no one knows what happened after that. through hazy vision, he stirred you both out of the hordes of now drunk and wasted people, eager to get you away from any prying eyes, not wanting anyone to see you in such state. something so carnal, lecherous jumps in his heart, the heat between you surged, raw and unrelenting, leaving him trembling with the need to hold on — or to give in.

the apartment is silent except for the low humming of the heater and whirlwind of snow hitting the glass of the windows. the silence stretches between you and satoru, thick with tension neither of you knows how to break it. his hands are still on yours, holding them tight, though his grip falters when your eyes meet, “satoru... please?”

your words almost have him choking on air. his chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. he is trying to think — trying to be rational — but it doesn't help when you're thinking with something else rather than your brain. he trembles when he sees the way you're looking at him, like he's the only thing in this world.

“are you sure?” satoru croaks out, hands moving to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. he wants to hear it properly — wants to hear you say it that you want him too as much as he wants you right now.

“yes,” your reply is instantaneous, and the flickering flame flares into something akin to a conflagration, successfully destroying what little was left of his self-control.

it's all satoru needs as he slumps back against the leather. his hand cups your cheek, softly grazing his thumb against your flushed skin before dropping down to your parted lips, pushing the limb into your mouth, “suck.”

it's not a request but an order, one that you're more than willing to abide by. you take no time in dropping to your knees, settling in between his spread legs. satoru watches with droopy eyes as your tongue peeks out, slowly tracing his skin before taking his thumb deeper. you feel so wet and so warm as he pushes on your tongue that has him wondering how good it will feel when he has your mouth wrapped around something else.

satoru pulls back his thumb, grazing against your wet lips, “go on, show me how much you want me.” his hands move up to your head, pulling your hair together and tying them in a not so clean ponytail (you wonder where he got that hair tie from), “it's all yours, baby.”

you shuffle closer towards the edge, running your hands up and down his thighs, “is it?” looking up at him with a small teasing smirk, eyelashes fluttering at his lovesick expression.

oh god, you didn't know that the blood pumping in his heart is all because of you, that all of his eyes exist with the sole purpose of seeing you — observing you, that everything which made up gojo satoru belonged to you.

satoru wants you to know the effect you had on him, wants you to know how much you got him running, “feel that?” one of his hands holds your own over the throbbing mess in his pants. it twitches to life as you rub your palm against the hardness, “it's all you baby.” and it is because no one else could have satoru moaning out loud like a fucking porn star upon the simplest of touches.

“can i...?” you whisper soflty, meeting his lustful gaze.

the meaning behind your question is not lost to him as he nods his head, eager for you to take him. he feels dizzy just by watching you open his belt, clinking sounds ringing in his ears, shooting pleasure down his body. his heart melts a little as you press a soft kiss right on the bulge in his pants.

you motion for him to lift himself, and he does so finally revealing himself, as you effortlessly slide off his pants and his boxers in one go, leaving nothing to hide his ever-growing desire for you.

he's so beautiful, standing tall and proud, tip flushed with deep red. you give it an experimental lick along the slit collecting the remnants of ooze before kissing it softly. satoru gasps above you, your name falling in a soft plea.

your kisses move across his thighs, decorating the pale milky skin with splotches of red and purple, marking him as yours. he looks so divine sitting in front of you — like a god whom you're yearning for, whose praise you want to drown yourself in.

when you fully take him in, tip hitting the end of your throat, satoru swears he sees the pearly gates looming over him, and god does he feel so close to cumming, “e-easy baby fuck, or you're gonna have m-me haa coming in no time,” his hand comes up to rest on your head, giving it a soft squeeze.

he feels you giggle around him before resuming your previous ministrations to get him closer to the sweet, sweet release. your tongue flicks around the tip, which immediately results in him clenching his thighs, a low guttural sound escaping him.

god, he sounds so hot, looks so hot— dishevelled hair with sweat beading to the tips, his ironed shirt is all crumpled with a few missing buttons giving way to his soaked chest — so masculine. a perfect picture rivalling that of a statue of some greek deity.

“just like that baby fuck!” you hum upon his praise, vibrations shooting up his spine, mingling with the tight knot forming in his abdomen, “so perfect for me, aren't y-you sweetheart?”

yes, you are. his sweet baby, his angel who is always ready to pleasure him, to put him first — your lord. nothing exists in the world right now. it's only you and him — a god and his worshipper.

all his senses are overloaded with you. all he sees is you looking so perfect under him. all he hears is the loud, wet sounds as you work your mouth down his length to his balls, sucking each one of them while fondling with the other. golden nectar seeps through the slit, coating your mouth. he feels so heavy, twitching violently with the need to cum — to paint you white with his essence.

“oh god, b-baby i'm—” satoru is so close that he can almosy taste the sweet heavenly release, and god does your mouth do wonders on him. he's panting, one hand clawing at the couch while the other holds your head in place, right where you belong.

it's so hot... you are so hot.

when you lock eyes with him, all the while he's throbbing in your mouth, satoru tips over the edge, falling straight into the ocean of unadulterated bliss. he swears he almost goes blind, his body numb with how hard he's coming down your throat. shocks and shocks of pleasure travel through his body, heart drumming against his ribcage with each wave. he grips on your head, tight not wanting to let you go.

a loud, broken whimper of your name echoes around the space as he comes down from the thrill of the earth-shattering orgasm. you suck him through it, not wanting to waste any drop of the precious liquid.

you place a final kiss right at the base, separating with wet pop, leaving behind a string of saliva connecting your parted lips with his tip that has his stomach churning again.

“how was it?” you whisper, hands still kneeding at the flesh of his thighs. satoru barely has any energy left, heaving above you, trying to form some coherent sentences, “so good baby—so good.” a blissed out expression paints his face with little sighs leaving his mouth as he thumbs again at your now wet mouth, “c'mere...”

he pulls you up by your elbows, placing you on his lap now, “so good f'me...” he presses his mouth on yours, swallowing the sudden gasp upon your surprise. the slow calculated pecks quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses, his tongue curling with yours, moaning into you as he tastes himself on you.

satoru is touchy and so clingy, groping and squeezing your flesh so hard you're sure he must be leaving marks underneath your shirt. his hands hold you tight, close to his body as if you'd disappear right before his very eyes. he separates from you, moving to suck down your neck all the way to your ear, smudging red against your soft skin.

“lay down for me, yeah?” he whispers in your ear before taking your ear lobe between his teeth, biting it softly. you hum, and he swings you around, laying you carefully on the couch, “there we go... such a pretty, baby.”

satoru's mind is reeling, unable to believe his eyes. he finally has you underneath him, flushed, embarrassed because of him — all ready for him. his fingers tug at your pants, nicely trimmed nails catching onto the hidden skin, “let's get this off...”

he helps you shimmy off your pants, along with your embarrassingly drenched underwear which he sneakily pockets somewhere you don't know, “i barely touched you there, baby...” he slides a finger up your drenched folds, spreading them apart, “god so wet, tell me who got you this wet?”

and god, he is falling in love with the way you look right now — mouth gaping trying to respond, drooling trickling from the side of your mouth — his precious angel, so so pretty.

“answer me, baby...” he leans closer to your heat, taking a strong whiff of the arousal seeping through. “it's—ahh you, all you fuck.” you whisper as his hot breath fans against your wetness.

yeah he knows it's him — the only one who got you needy like a bitch in heat, “show me how to pleasure you, yeah?” he sits up spreading your thighs wider, situating between them, wrapping your legs around his waist. you nod, holding his hand and guiding it towards the ache between your legs, “right here?”

“need your mhm,” he knows you're struggling, trying to think past the lust ridden haze in your mind, but it's just so fun, seeing you get frustrated. “my what?” his fingers circle around the pulsing nub, feather soft touch testing your limits.

you are quickly surrendering to the faint sparks of pleasure stemming from where his finger rubs you, “y-your hah fingers...please,” satoru hums as he quickly shoves one inside your weeping hole.

both of you moan out as your walls clench around the digit, slowly sucking him in deeper, “m-more please ahh,” he follows, rubbing his ring finger around your opening before it's joining his middle finger.

satoru's mind is running in circles. god, you are barely coherent with just his fingers pumping inside of you. how are you gonna take him? maybe you'll yield, pretty pussy splitting open to accomodate him, always so eager to please him — welcome him. you're gonna make him cum untouched now.

“t-toru just like that baby—oh!” satoru hums encouragingly, keeping up the pace, rubbing against the rough spot deep in your walls, “you’re gonna cum f'me?” he whispers against your lips, before pulling you into a deep and messy kiss.

he knows you're close, tell tale sings of orgasm showing up in your features. your nails graze against his nape, electricity buzzing through his undercut, “please toru—” he shushes you, his free hand holding your head against his chest, “i got you baby.”

satoru watches as you come undone in front of him, spraying all over his abdomen with a loud moan ripping from your throat. he eases you through the orgasm, placing gentle kisses on your watery eyes, a stark contrast to the relentless pace of his fingers working your walls.

he slumps against you, pulling his now absolutely sopping fingers from your gaping hole, “mhm—”

he pushes his fingers in his mouth all the while maintaing eye contact with you, heavenly exilir hydrating his parched mouth, “tastes so good fuck,” he mutters removing them before bending down to capture your lips again, letting you taste yourself.

satoru pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. his cerulean eyes maps the route of your face, watching you as you struggle to keep your eyes open. he nuzzles his nose against yours, “come now, don't go sleeping on me...”

his weight leans on his knees as he sits up above you, fingers fiddling with his now crumpled shirt, a devious grin adoring his face, “after all, i'm not done with you just yet.”

oh, he can't wait to have you writhing, screaming in pleasure — to have you fully.

what a banger way to kick off the new year, he thinks as he pushes in you, never to leave you ever again.

[etheraltides]

Fractured Devotion

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe’s addiction and mounting debts push him to the edge after a threatening encounter with Barry. As the boy you love clings to you for comfort, you must decide how far you’re willing to go to save him.

Warning(s): drug use and addiction, volatile behavior (I mean it’s season one rafe), violence.

You sat on the edge of Rafe’s bed, flipping absently through a magazine you found on his nightstand. It was some glossy publication, all luxury homes and island life aesthetics. You weren’t paying attention to the words. Instead, you listened to the faint echoes of muffled voices downstairs.

Rafe was arguing with his dad again.

It had been a year since you’d started dating him, but it felt like you’d spent half of that time comforting him after some blow-up with Ward. Lately, though, it was getting worse. The fights were louder, angrier, and left Rafe spiraling into moods you struggled to pull him out of.

You adjusted the strap of your sundress, feeling a prickle of unease. You’d noticed how his behavior had changed over the past few weeks – more erratic, more aggressive. He was drinking more, using more. And when you tried to talk to him about it, he brushed it off with a smirk and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“He’s just so…ungrateful, you know?” Rafe’s voice carried through the door as he stormed into the room, slamming it behind him. His chest rose and fell with barely-contained rage, his blue eyes sharp and angry.

You looked up, setting the magazine aside. “Rafe, what happened?”

He raked a hand through his messy blonde hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Sarah,” he spat, as if her name tasted bitter. “That little traitor.”

Your brows knitted in concern. “What did she do?”

“She’s siding with them. With John B and those Pogue losers. She’s supposed to be my sister, our family, but she’s out there, screwing around with him instead of standing by us.” He stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression hardening. “Do you even know what that’s like? To have your own blood turn on you?”

You didn’t know how to answer, so you stood and reached for his hand. “Rafe, calm down. She’s just a kid. Maybe she doesn’t—”

“Don’t defend her!” he snapped, pulling away from your touch. “She’s tearing this family apart, and Dad just lets her do it. Like she’s perfect and I’m…”

His voice trailed off, but the look in his eyes – the self-loathing barely hidden under the anger – made your chest ache.

“You’re not a failure, Rafe.” you said softly, stepping closer. “You’re just—”

“What?” He laughed, sharp and bitter. “Go ahead, say it. I’m just what, (Y/N)? A mess? A junkie? A disappointment?”

“No.” you insisted, but he was already spiraling.

Rafe’s hand shot out, knocking a lamp off the bedside table. It crashed to the floor, the bulb shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. You flinched, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I do everything for him,” Rafe said, his voice rising. “I do everything he asks – everything he needs – and it’s never enough. Sarah can screw off to Pogueland but all Dad sees is me. The screw-up. The kid who can’t get it right.”

“Rafe…” Your voice trembled as you watched him punch the wall, his knuckles splitting against the drywall. You’d never seen him this unhinged before.

“I’m the one holding everything together!” he shouted, ignoring the blood dripping from his hand. “I’m the one doing the dirty work, making sure this family doesn’t fall apart. And for what? So I can listen to his voice in my head, telling me I’m worthless?”

He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “Sometimes I think he’s right. Maybe I am just…broken.”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. You wanted to reach out, to pull him into your arms and tell him everything would be okay. But you weren’t sure if he’d let you, or if he’d push you away like he always did when he felt too vulnerable.

“You’re not broken, Rafe.” you said, sitting beside him. “You’re just hurting. And I want to help you, but you have to let me in.”

For a moment, he looked at you like he wanted to believe you. But then the mask of cocky indifference slid back into place. He stood, grabbing his jacket.

“Where are you going?” you asked, panic rising in your chest.

“Out.” he said curtly. “Don’t wait up.”

The door slammed open with a loud crash, startling you out of your thoughts. Rafe stumbled in, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light. He was a mess. His shirt clung to his damp skin, his hair was disheveled, and his pupils were blown wide, a wild, unhinged energy radiating off him.

“Rafe?” you called hesitantly, standing from the bed. The moment your voice broke the silence, his gaze snapped to you, sharp and glassy.

“What are you still doing here?” he muttered, slurring his words slightly. “I thought you’d leave. Everyone leaves.”

“I wasn’t going to leave” you said softly, keeping your tone steady despite the unease creeping up your spine. “What happened? Where were you?”

He ignored your question, pacing the room erratically, his hands tugging at his hair. “Barry.”he spat, the name dripping with venom. “That piece of shit thinks he can threaten me. Me!”

The name sent a chill down your spine. You’d heard the rumors about Barry, but Rafe had always brushed off your questions, assuring you it wasn’t serious. Now, though, the weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest.

“Rafe, what do you mean he threatened you?” you asked, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

He stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression wild. “What’s going on?” he repeated mockingly. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I owe Barry money – a lot of money – and now he’s acting like I’m his bitch or something. Like I’m just some loser who can’t handle my business.”

Your stomach dropped. “How much money, Rafe?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“How much?” you pressed, your voice trembling.

“Does it matter?” he snapped, his anger flaring. “I’ll take care of it. I don’t need you or anyone else to swoop in and save me, alright?”

You took a step back, shocked by the venom in his tone. But then you saw it – the fear buried beneath his anger, the shame flickering in his eyes. He wasn’t just angry. He was scared.

“Rafe.” you said carefully, “how much do you owe him?”

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Ten grand, alright?” he finally muttered, his voice barely audible.

You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you. Ten thousand dollars. That wasn’t just a debt – it was a noose tightening around his neck.

“Rafe…” you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising again.

“I’ll figure it out, okay? I always do. Barry doesn’t scare me. He’s just a lowlife who thinks he’s bigger than he is.”

“Raphael, stop.” You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. He tensed under your touch, but you didn’t let go. “Let me help you.”

“What?” he barked, his laugh bitter and sharp. “You want to help me? With what, Y/N? You gonna go have a chat with Barry? Maybe flash your pretty tits and make him forget I owe him ten grand?”

“Don’t!” you said firmly, refusing to back down. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m trying to help you, Rafe.”

“Help me?” he repeated, pulling away from you. “You don’t get it. This isn’t something you can just fix with your stupid optimism and your little good-girl act.”

“I can pay it.” you said suddenly, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

Rafe froze, his wild eyes locking onto yours. “What did you just say?”

“I’ll pay him.” you said again, your voice steadier this time. “I have savings. I’ll pay Barry, and you can pay me back when you’re ready.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of Rafe’s ragged breathing. Then he exploded.

“Are you insane?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. “You think I’m going to let you do that? Let you clean up my mess like I’m some kind of charity case?”

“I’m not doing it to embarrass you, Rafe,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “I’m doing it because I care about you. Because I don’t want Barry coming after you – or worse.”

“Worse?” he repeated, his voice dropping dangerously low. “What do you think he’s gonna do, huh? You think he’s gonna kill me? Barry’s all talk. He’s nothing.”

“Then why are you so scared?” you shot back, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you pacing and yelling and breaking things if it’s not a big deal?”

He stared at you, his chest heaving, his face twisted with anger and something else –something raw and vulnerable. “Because I can’t lose you.” he finally said, his voice breaking. “Because if you get involved in this, Barry’s not just coming after me. He’s coming after you, too.”

You took a shaky breath, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “He won’t come after me because I’ll pay him, silly”

For a long moment, he just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his hands trembling. Then, slowly, he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. His head fell into his hands, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m gonna fix this, okay?” he ran a hand through his hair, his words muffled.

You knelt beside him, your hand gently brushing his. “Then let me help you.” you said softly. “Not just with the money – with all of it. But you have to let me in, Rafe. You have to trust me. I’m not your enemy here.”

He looked at you, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears, his lips trembling as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Instead, he reached out and pulled you toward him, his hands gripping your waist tightly, almost desperately.

His lips crashed against yours in a bruising, frantic kiss. It wasn’t soft or sweet – it was raw, messy, and full of need. His fingers dug into your sides as his mouth moved against yours, the kiss a mix of desperation and hunger. He kissed you like you were the only thing anchoring him, like he was drowning and you were his lifeline.

You gasped against his lips, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair. His body pressed against yours, his movements erratic and uncoordinated, but his need for you was undeniable.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths ragged. “Shit. I don’t deserve you.” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“No, you don’t.” you whispered, your hands gently cupping his face. “But you’ve got me anyway.”

For the first time that night, he let out a shaky laugh – a sound filled with both relief and sadness. He kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense, as if trying to convince himself that you were real.

[thankyoudanielfest]

Thank you, Daniel! Fest – Second wave roundup post.

Here is the first wave roundup post.

With this, we'd like to wrap up Thank you, Daniel! Fest. As promised, a roundup of more incredible works made by even more incredible people!

Fics:

Google Translate What Does This Mean? by @ararararo

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 1,5k words (chapter 1/2)

Google Translate couldn't possibly be lying to him but Max couldn't possibly be lying to him either. There's no way his younger teammate has been teaching him to how to say 'Impregnate Me' and 'Cum in Me' in Dutch, made him repeat it every time they were together under false pretence that they were confidence boosting sentences. It must be Google Translate that's lying to him, because his Maxy could never... right?

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The Final Part in the Unlimited Kiss Coupon Universe by @saapphicx

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 1.7k words (complete)

The season is over and Daniel is home for Christmas. But he’s not alone. Max has made good on the offer Daniel gave him, and has packed himself up to the farm for the winter break. Maybe it’s time for Daniel to finally get what he’s wanted since the first day he received that coupon. Maybe it’s time for him to be brave.

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Feeling like I'm on a Hook by @naanima

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 12k words (complete)

He knew he should talk this out with Blake, contact his lawyers, and make sure the rest of his team wasn't asking questions they shouldn't. But he couldn't, because the first thing you learned as a rookie on a F1 team was that you don't fucking ever talk about the free use clause with anyone that wasn't your team principal, the head of HR of your team, and the two FIA representatives - the medical specialist and the monitor who inspected both drivers after each “incident” on FIA premise. And of course the other party involved in the free use clause. Agents were viewed with disdain. (The free use clause is activated in Daniel's contract post Singapore).

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Ain’t That Kind of Movie by @annebd

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 2k words (chapter 1/2)

Daniel is the two-time World Drivers' Champion, and at the FIA Awards ceremony, he meets Max, who is charming and funny and gorgeous. And an escort.

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surrender my heart by @f1thememp3

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 1.9k words (chapter 1/4)

There weren’t any subs in formula 1. not for a long time, and at least not publicly. Statistically speaking there were likely quite a few somewhere along the line, but the general perception that subs were far too fragile to handle the demands of the sport kept them fully in the dark. You either fit the mold or got out of the car.

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Last by @flawlessassholes

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 3.8k words (complete)

Ten years after Max's first time is Daniel's last.

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Love Blind by @mvlionheart

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 3,2k words (chapter 1/12)

“What are we going to do?” Danny ventures asking, voice a thinly veiled attempt at composure. This was their moment, it was all coming together. The years of hard work, the pay-out just around the corner. He couldn’t stomach thinking about letting everything slip through their fingers. “Open auditions?” Noah replies. OR When Danny's band Enchanté loses their drummer right before a big show, they have to find a last-minute replacement. It's a good thing the bass player's sister knows a guy. It's a bad thing, for Danny at least, that the guy is a hot, young, drum prodigy who really knows how to work his sticks.

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Stranded by @mvpanda1

Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, 5,8k words (complete)

Daniel is having the time of his life. Shining sun, clear calm waters, a yacht full of the best friends a guy could ask for, and the love of his life. Max. It’s hard to believe they are here together now. Out in the open. No longer sneaking into empty rooms or dark corners. They have been inseparable the entire trip—two becoming one in every way possible. His friends don’t care, they’re just happy Daniel finally feels comfortable enough to be himself. OR Daniel is having the time of his life until he isn't.

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Edits and creations:

enjoy the butterflies by @thebirdsareafterme

Daniel and butterflies piece by @avida-heidia-5

Cute Daniel edit by @mango-yoyo

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Please show some love to everyone who participated! All of the people above have done an incredible job. This wouldn't be possible without each and every one of you who participated and we cannot thank you enough for dedicating time to show some love towards Daniel.

Right now, we're giving you all a big, warm hug... but do keep an eye out for something perhaps coming in January ;)

with love, mods <3

[ladysharmaa]

Heat

Jay Halstead x pregnant!reader

Summary: When Chicago is in a heat wave, Y/n feels unwell while pregnant, worrying Jay

It was definitely the hottest day of the year. Chicago was going through a heat wave and Y/n had never felt more miserable. It also didn't help that she was seven months pregnant with her husband's baby, Jay Halstead. She could feel the beads of sweat falling from her forehead and her face heating up so much that she must have looked like a walking tomato.

Jay warned her to stay at home and protect herself from the heat, but when the air conditioning broke, Y/n decided to go out to buy a fan. But she didn't know it would be so difficult to walk and even breathe on this hellish day. It seemed like with every breath she took, the air burned her lungs. She walked slowly, one hand on her stomach protectively, trying to at least get to the store that was a few blocks away.

Y/n knew Jay would be so upset if he knew she left the house in this weather. Since she became pregnant, the man has become even more protective than before. However, she knew he was having a busy day and couldn't leave work just because Y/n was hot — although he would do that if Y/n called him and asked to buy a fan.

But everything got worse when Y/n's vision became blurry and a feeling of nausea appeared. Jay's wife leaned against the wall next to her, trying to get some shade to compose herself. She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to breathe slowly to calm her heart that was beating rapidly against her chest.

"Miss! Miss, are you okay?" a man appeared in front of her, with a worried look. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

"No, it's okay." she managed to whisper. "Could you help me get to Fire Station 51? It's just a two-minute walk." the man, already advanced in age, seemed friendly enough for Y/n to trust him. And the truth was that she had no other option, as it seemed like her legs were going to give out at any moment.

"Sure thing, ma'am. Here, lean on my arm." he agreed with a gentle smile, offering her his arm to help her walk. "In this heat, no one should be walking around. It could be dangerous, especially in your condition."

"I know." Y/n sighed, knowing that beyond this lecture, she was going to hear worse from Jay when he found out. "But I wanted to buy a fan. It wasn't even a five-minute walk."

The man patted her hand in understanding. "I don't judge you, dear. My wife has already had three children, and in all of them, she was very stubborn. I understand that you don't want to be dependent on us, poor husbands, but we just want you to be well."

The woman didn't respond, now feeling even more guilty for not calling Jay to ask for this favor. She didn't want to bother him, but the plan didn't go as expected. The rest of the short walk was done in silence, Y/n's cheeks becoming more flushed, and having difficulty breathing in the hot air.

When they finally saw the fire station, Jay's wife couldn't be more relieved. Gabby and Brett, who were getting out of the ambulance, having just arrived from a call, noticed Y/n's tired form and immediately took hurried steps towards her, helping to carry her and him into the shade.

"Y/n? What happened? Are you feeling okay?" Gabby asked worriedly, helping her into the back of the ambulance. Y/n sat down, one hand on her stomach and the other on her back, closing her eyes as she started to feel dizzy.

"I'll call Jay." she managed to hear Brett say, but she was more focused on not throwing up than responding to the paramedics.

Thankfully, the man who helped her took charge of explaining what had happened. Y/n had the strength to open her eyes and thank him deeply for his help, asking if she could do anything to repay him, but he just shook his head and smiled. Then he left, as Y/n was now with people who could help her medically.

"What are your symptoms, Y/n?"

"I don't feel well, Gabby." her voice shook, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'm sick, dizzy, and a headache is forming."

After leaving the phone call, Brett began taking her vitals, while Gabby applied a cold compress to her forehead. "You're most likely dehydrated, we have to go to the hospital to put you on an IV and check the baby."

"But he's fine, right?" Y/n sobbed scared, clutching her belly as she looked at her friends with a frown.

"Yes, he seems fine. But just to be sure." Gabby comforted, starting to help Y/n lay down on the stretcher.

"What did Jay say?"

"Well, he—" the blonde paramedic started to say, but was interrupted by the sirens of a police car, getting closer and closer. "I guess that's your answer."

"How did he get here so fast?" Y/n thought out loud as he watched the police officer get out of the still moving car. He immediately looked around for his wife. When he saw them, he quickly broke into a run, his eyes wide in panic. Hailey got out of the driver's seat, right behind Jay.

"I'm really sorry."

"What, baby? You don't have to apologize." Jay knelt down next to Y/n, gently cupping her face with his hands so he could assess her condition. Unconsciously, his hand slid down to her round belly, finally managing to take a deep breath when he felt a light kick against his touch. "I shouldn't have left you alone in this weather. You're okay, baby."

When Brett called him to explain the situation, he felt a sense of fear like he had never felt before. Not even when he had been shot at, kidnapped or beaten. The most important people in his life being in danger was his worst nightmare.

Luckily, they were in the neighborhood and managed to get to the fire station in record time thanks to Hailey's driving. Over time, Y/n and the blonde had become very close, often ganging up together against Jay. Not that he minded, since hearing his wife's giggles and knowing she was more relaxed when Jay was working as she trusted his partner to protect him.

"We need to get them to the hospital. Y/n is showing signs of dehydration and the baby needs to be checked." Jay's head turned unusually quickly to Gabby in concern. She hurried to add, "They both seem to be fine, but I want to make sure."

"I'll go back to the police station and let Voight know you won't be working anymore this week." Hailey offered. "I hope you're okay, Y/n. I'll stop at the hospital to check on you."

"Thank you, Hails." Y/n smiled weakly.

"Let's go." The man nodded, kissing Y/n's forehead comfortingly. He climbed into the back of the ambulance with her and held her hand the whole way while Gabby got into the driver's seat and Brett checked some vital signs.

The ride was relatively calm, but Y/n was getting paler and sicker by the minute. Jay mumbled words in an attempt to calm her down, but inside, he felt like he couldn't breathe. They should have called two ambulances because he was close to passing out.

Finally, they arrived at the hospital where Maggie and Will were waiting for them at the entrance. In no time, she was already settled in and several doctors were checking everything they could. Jay stayed by her side the whole time, answering some questions from the doctors when necessary.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital were harsh against Y/n’s already sensitive eyes as she waited for someone to tell her what was going on. Jay never let go of her hand, his grip firm but gentle, his thumb softly brushing against her knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort her. Her heart was pounding, but the cool sheets of the hospital bed and his touch gave her some relief.

Will Halstead, dressed in his white coat and looking every bit the composed doctor he was, entered the room, clipboard in hand. His face softened the moment he saw Y/n and Jay.

"Hey," Will greeted, his tone warm yet professional. "How are we doing here?"

"Not great, Will," Y/n admitted, her voice weak as she tried to give him a small smile. "I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck."

Jay immediately turned to his brother. "What’s going on? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" His words came out in a rush, and it was clear he was doing everything he could to keep his composure.

Will raised a hand to calm his younger brother. "Take a breath, Jay," he said, flipping through the chart. "We ran some tests and monitored Y/n’s vitals. She’s severely dehydrated, which is why she felt dizzy and nauseous. Her blood pressure dropped, but thankfully, the baby is doing great. The ultrasound shows a strong heartbeat."

Y/n let out a shaky breath of relief, her free hand instinctively moving to her belly. Jay visibly relaxed beside her, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"So, she’s okay? The baby’s okay?" Jay asked again, needing to hear it one more time to truly believe it.

"Yes," Will assured them with a kind smile. "We’re giving her IV fluids to rehydrate her, and she should start feeling better soon. I do want her to stay overnight for observation, just to be safe, but I’m confident she and the baby will be fine."

"Thank you, Will," Y/n said, her voice cracking slightly as tears of relief welled in her eyes.

Will reached out to pat her head. "No need to thank me, Y/n. Just promise me you’ll stay out of this heat, okay?"

She nodded, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude. "I’ll try," she murmured, glancing at Jay.

Jay turned to Will. "Thanks, man."

"Anything for my sister-and-law and nephew." He winked at her before stepping back. "I’ll check on you in a bit, but for now, just rest."

As Will left, the room fell quiet, except for the soft beep of the monitors and the rhythmic drip of the IV. Jay pulled a chair close to the bed, sinking into it as he brought Y/n’s hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her fingers.

"You scared me today," he said softly, his eyes glistening as they locked onto hers. "Don’t ever do that again, Y/n. Please."

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just... I didn’t want to bother you at work."

Jay let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "Bother me? Y/n, you and this baby are the most important things in my life. I’d drop everything in a heartbeat if you needed me."

Her lips trembled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. It was just a fan."

He leaned forward, cupping her face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "Listen to me," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Nothing is ‘just’ when it comes to you or our family. You’re my world. Promise me, no more trying to do everything on your own. I’m here for you. Always. Ask me to buy you a fan, food, a house, I don't care, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

She nodded, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I promise," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Jay leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his against hers. For a moment, they stayed like that, their breaths mingling as the world outside the hospital room faded away.

"I love you," she said softly, her hand finding its way to his cheek.

"I love you more," he replied, his voice low and full of sincerity. He placed a hand on her belly, feeling the soft flutter of movement beneath his palm. "And I love you, little one. But you’ve gotta cut your mom some slack, okay? No more giving her a hard time."

Y/n laughed weakly, the sound light and sweet. "Hear that?" she said, looking down at her bump. "You are already giving Daddy white hairs."

As the IV continued to drip and the monitors beeped steadily, the weight of the day began to lift. They were together and okay. That was all that they needed.