#I CAN TELL EVERYTHING IS ABOUT TO GO SO WRONG. VERY SOON.

[olderthannetfic]

I accidentally killed my own desire to write, and I need some advice. To be really blunt about it, what's the point of writing? When I would spend lots of time laboring over making a good story with a plot and characters who were in-character and connecting all the dots narratively so payoffs were satisfying, my reward was dead silence and virtually no clicks. I posted some mindless smut to my side account one day and got more hits in a day than most of my other works combined got in a year. I know, I know. "Write for ~*~yourself~*~" is the common response. It's the "be yourself!" of writing. It's supposed to be a magical phrase that'll make everything okay. But... I don't like knowing that something I spend months working on won't be read by anyone while something I write in a car while bored got thousands of clicks. I don't like making something I'm proud of and then no one ever looks at it. That's not fun for me. It's not fulfilling.

For a solid decade, I've tried to ignore how the level of interactivity in fandom is falling. Fewer comments. Fewer kudos. No comments in the bookmarks. You put your tumblr and Discord in the AN and get a handful of asks and one person who adds you, talks to you twice and then ghosts you. Most of the comments are "well, actuallys", made even more annoying by them being wrong as opposed to actually correcting an error. I avoid fandom drama, wank, and infighting. I don't engage with things I know will make me unhappy. I try to be happy over in my own little corner. I comment on every single work I read. I want people to enjoy fandom. I used to.

Some dumb smut I wrote in 40 minutes gets five times the hits of the writing I'm most proud of, and it gets it in just under three months. I am not a great smut writer. I haven't stumbled onto an incredible talent I had that makes it so the issue is that I'm so amazing my smut brings all the boys to the yard. People just don't like what I write and put effort into. It's very likely that despite 20 years of writing fic, I suck at writing. And people enjoy my writing most when they don't have to put up with anything substantial and can just skip to the sex.

So for the last eight months, when I write, I just sort of give up. Close the Word doc without saving. No one will read this. No one cares about this. There is no fan eagerly awaiting every update like I await updates from my favorite authors. There's not even someone saying, "update soon!" Close the Word doc. Delete old WIPs. There's no point. I do not tell stories worth reading. I used to. In the FFN days people genuinely enjoyed my work. I'd never have had an opportunity to do the 'I won't update until I get 3 reviews' thing because getting that many on a chapter was usually something I'd do overnight. Post before bed. Wake up. Read the reviews before school. I peaked in high school, I guess.

And now I'm just sort of lost. I still have lots of ideas. Ideas for fics fall into my head all the time. That's never been a problem. What I don't have is any motivation to write them. What's the point of writing? If no one else is reading, I guess the point would be so I could go back and read my own story and have fun with it. Write for myself. But I can review the story and have fun with it in my head without writing it down. It's substantially faster and more importantly, isn't incredibly depressing.

So, at the risk of definitely being calld the second-coming of True Art Anon or a troll or validation-seeking or haha mentally ill haha... what's the point of writing?

--

Okay, so write porn in a car while you're bored.

Look, you can whine all you want about my response, but what you've written here is blatantly about depression.

Lots of people in fandom are still interacting. And no, it isn't just on fics that are objectively written to some pro fiction standard or whatever. Teenagers still breathlessly review poorly spelled cracky masterpieces about this year's big anime and so forth.

Yes, there may be reasons why you in particular are in a slump when it comes to fandom friendships or "plz update" comments. We can talk about that. But this ask is all gloom about fandom in general. That's not realism: that's you having a problem.

--

As for why a person should write: because the actual hours you spend doing the writing are fun.

If they aren't pleasurable in some way, find another hobby.

--

But if you want an answer to the age old "Why did my 5 minute fic get 1000000x more asspats", I've seen meta about this for literally decades.

The most likely reason is that the fic we write quickly and without much thought often feels fresher and more fun. The things we labor over endlessly can feel overworked. Even in cases where they don't, they're often heavier subject matter or more niche subject matter. On top of all that, we just care more, so even a high level of feedback doesn't really feel like enough for the effort and care we put in.

--

Do you really need me to tell you why you don't feel the same as in high school when things were fresh and new?

Go read up on combatting burnout or dealing with post-college anxiety or managing stress in a dead-end job in your 30s or finding meaning in your 40s or whatever is going on.

Everyone goes through fallow periods in fandom and in life.

Feeling reinvigorated has to do with internal factors and some general life circumstance stuff. It doesn't have that much to do with number of kudos. That's just the surface trigger for a mood that was already there.

[justme315]

New family 1/?

! Warning !

swearing, angst, fear, step-family, g/t family, abuse, mention of abusive giants, gigantophobia, mention of the character being religious, sickness

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

I was fucked.

I'm sorry for using that kinda language but I really was. You see, my whole life has been destroyed by thoese damn giants.

Sorry, I don't think I introduced myself yet, I'm Zack.

Me and my mom were always a team. After my dad has passed away when i was 6 she was the only person important to me. It was basically us two against the whole world.

Something that might also be important for you to understand my story is the fact that we live in a world full of humans (like my and my mom) and giants. Giants are.. humanoid 60-ish feet tall creatures. Easily to say - their dangerous. The government rightfully understood the danger and the fear of us humans and created 'human-only' zones, cities, countries even. There were also a few 'giant-only' zones, but I'm not really sure why. It's not like the giants would fear us. Most of the places thoese enourmous beasts live are simply 'mixed-zones', places where both humans and giants can live. Thank God that me and my mom always lived in a 'human-only' zone. I was always skeptical and yeah, terrified of giants.

My mom was different though. Maybe she was just dumb (sorry for saying that mama) but she just couldn't sense danger. She worked in a company that required her to sometimes travel to 'mixed-zones' or 'mixed-cities'. I was always opposed to that but she.. enjoyed it. She even said that she made some giant "friends". I never believed in their honesty though.

But what changed my life once and for all, had happened when I was just 16. Well, going on 17 already, but yeah, still 16.

I never ever once questioned my mom's romantic life after my dad has passed away. She just.. never acted like she wanted to start a new relationship. And I was very okay with that.

But one unfortunate day, just after she came home from one of her business trips she told me that she has got a boyfriend.

That was weried to know, I mean c'mon, picturing your mom having a crush, dating, falling in love etc. is just.. weried and kinda disgusting if you ask me.

Of course, I questioned her and soon I reaveled her secret.

"Zack, I have been dating him for a little over a year. I was just scared of how you might react. But now, I must tell you since.. he proposed."

That felt like I was stabbed straight into the heart. How could she have kept having a boyfriend a secret from me for so long? Why would she? Being lied to by her felt horrible. I thought we were a team - we always told echother everything. But I guess I was wrong.

Really soon I found out that my mom's boyfriends (and now fiances) name is Andrew, that he was just slightly older than her and had two sons about my age, he was also a widower, and according to my mom, we had much in common.

I really couldn't understand why my mom would keep her boyfriend a secret. Untill she revealed she wanted for us to move in with him and his sons. I mean, she had a lot of planing to do, as she was soon to get married again, so that was kinda understandable. I wasn't opposed to moving into a new home, but changed my mind really quickly when my mom reaveled that our new home would be in a mixed-city. I mean, I was never even in that kind of a city, never even seen a giant in real life and was hella terrified of them! She should've understood me. Before she 'fell in love' she always has.

I asked her a milion times if Andrew and his sons can't just move in with us but she always found some excuse. Once, our house was too small, then his older son didn't want to switch universities, another time Andrew was scared of loosing the job. It was always a stupid excuse. Untill she finally reaveled the truth.

You see, Andrew, my mom's husband-to-be was a giant. And so were his sons.

To say that I was mad and scared was an understatement. I felt lied to. I felt like I was being dragged into something I didn't want to be a part of. I, understandably, questioned the honesty of my moms relationship, which angered her the most. I was angry with my mom for over two weeks after finding out about the size of my soon to be step-family and barely spoke with her. I couldn't be away from her for long though and forgave her, but in my heart I still had plenty of doubts.

My friends didn't help ease my fear. I told my best buddies at school and the stories they have told me only made me more afraid and suspicious of the said Andrew and all giants at that point.

"Don't y'all remember Joseph from middle school? He moved to a mixed-city with his parents. He was stepped on by a giant and died!"

"That's nothing compered to what happened to Amy. A quick death is better than being tortured. She is my cousin. She moved to a mixed-zone because she wanted to go to a better collage. One of her giant male classmates kidnaped her and done horrifying things to her. Once she was found she had missing limbs, many scars.. She was mentally, physically and sexually abused by him for months, untill they found the giant. And he barely got any jail time for that! She's still in mental health hospital!"

"My dads best friend Thomas was freaking eaten alive!"

Yeah, I think 3 stories is enough to give you the idea of how freaking terrified I was of the said 'step-family'. Some might say I am a specist (a person that discriminates based on the species (giant and human)) but I wouldn't agree. I don't really think that a human can be a specist becouse we are in the more vaunurable position. Also, I don't hate giants becouse of their size. I hate and fear them because of how brutal and cruel they are towards humans. Maybe a giantophobe would be a more appropriate term for me.

That day was the worst day in my entire life. And it's really hard to beat the day my dad had passed away.

We sold the house. We were at the airport. All ready to go to a mixed-city, over the wall that the government made.

Mom was all smiley and happy, her nose never leaving her phone.

"Andrew texted me that he and his boys are at their side of the barrier already, waiting for us. They can't wait to meet you!"

Right, didn't I mention that they all knew echother, but me?

"I just can't wait to show you the city and our new home!"

I was standing there quiet. No matter how many times I told my mom that i don't agree with her choice of dating a giant or for the fact that I didn't want to move away into a mixed-city she would always say that I will change my mind once I overcome my fear. Hell, I would.

I held my bag closely, trying to hold onto whatever I have not to lose my composure. I was terrified and angry, sure, but showing thoese giants from the start that they have some power over me, even though it was obvious, wasn't something I would do. At last, if I could hide my emotions.

Just a few minutes before our flight, a flight in the opposite direction landed. I saw all those humans, coming back from the mixed-city, most of them seem, okay. That made me confused and curious. Would it really be all that bad?

Untill I saw a girl, probably my age, on a wheelchair. I mean, there is nothing wrong with disabled people, don't get me wrong, but she was crying so she easily got everyone's attention. A woman run up to her.

"Mom!" The girl sobbed, opening her arms to hug her mother. The woman tried calming the girl down but she just kept crying and screaming "It was just supposed to be a student exchange program!! This scary giant crushed my legs!"

The girls voice echoed in my head. It was different to hear stories of distant people, but to see someone hurt by thoese monsters in front of my own eyes was completely different.

Even my mom lowered her phone and looked at the girl with pity in her eyes. I prayed to the Lord to open her eyes and return home safely with me.

"Poor girl" she signed "That must have been a.. horrible accident".

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Accident?" I looked at my mom angrily, finally letting my emotions out "A giant crushed her legs".

"Honey, I'm sure they didn't mean to.." she looked at me, somewhat shocked at my defensiveness. I shouldn't have expected her to understand. She just simply couldn't sense danger. And that could get both of us killed.

"Her legs were crushed by a giant, mom!" I raised my voice, even so slightly as I couldn't believe how blinded she was by her feelings.

"Zack, calm yourself down" she looked at me more strictly now, as I was getting other peoples attention. I couldn't bare the thought of how stupid this all was. I just wanted to be home. Or anywhere at that point. Anywhere but in a spece where giants were allowed.

"You-" I began to speak.

"The flight 16-399Bhc** is preparing to take off. We ask all the passengers to board the plane within 5 minutes. Thank you and have a good flight" said a voice from the speaker.

"That's our flight!" My mom cheered up and grabbed my arm, pulling me as she ran to the plane.

She was so excited it made me feel like I was gonna puke.

Don't get me wrong, I always loved planes but this time I felt uneasy. My whole body was shaking ever so slightly, I felt like I was about to puke, I swear I heard my heart pumping blood, my head was spinning..

That can easily be called my worst ever flight.

After we landed I need a good 15 minutes in the bathroom to regain my composure.

"Honey, are you alright?" I heard my mom knocking "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine mama, I'll be okay" I mumbled, though I didn't feel like I was going to be okay for at last next few hours. I was also convinced my life was about to end so why bother worrying my mom. But before I cross the barrier of the airport, I didn't have to see or interact with any giants. Maybe me feeling sick was actually a gift from God to give me more time to get ready for what was about to come? As I was almost ready to go I hear my mom speaking:

"Honey, are you sure? I texted Andrew and he and Ethan are worried sick. They can drive us to a hospital"

And then I got sick again at the mention of the giants.

Oh, you might not know who is who. Andrew is my moms 45 year old husband-to-be, but I'm sure I have spoke about him already. Ethan is his older son, he was 21 back then. His younger son - Ryan - was 17.

After, what appeared to me as a minute and to my mom as an hour I finally could exit the bathroom.

My mom rushed me, saying that the boys have been waiting for us long enough. I was feeling less and less okay. I couldn't keep my emotionless demeanor. My eyes felt heavy, my heartbeat fasten as well as my breathing, my legs were shaky and I was not able to say even one word.

As I saw the enourmous glass wall behind which were a ton of giants, I felt like I was going to faint.

Or simply turn around and run.

My mom stopped in her trucks and looked at her phone. After maybe three seconds of reading what I supposed was a message form Andrew she looked into the direction of 3 giant men waiting and her eyes started to freaking sparkle and her smile grew.

She then looked at me and pointed in the direction of thoese giants, who weren't looking at us, thank God.

"That's Andrew! And Ethan and Ryan!" She said with an excited expression.

Andrew was surprisingly the shortest of the group. He had brown hair that were turning grey, a short beard, thick glasses, a blue sweater and more elegant pants. He was overall a handsome middle-aged dude, if it wasn't for the fact he was freaking enormous.

Ethan was talking with him. He had fluffy brown hair and was slightly taller than his dad. He had a few freckles and dimples on his cheeks, his smile was truthfully welcoming. His white hoodie also looked very comfy.

The tallest one was the youngest - Ryan. He had black, short hair, a pierced ear and stylist clothes. If he would have been a human, he looked like one of the popular kids that you always look up to. I really liked the belt he had, same with the rings on his fingers.

All three giants had the same eye color - hazel.

My mom grabbed me again and pulled me into the direction of the glass wall that was the last thing keeping me outside of the reach of giants. She looked so happy to see them that it was hard to recognize her. She only ever smiled at me like that before.

Soon enough, we were close to the exit of my comfort zone. My fear only grew as we were closer to the giants. It was still probably about 20 feet between us and the door when Andrews eyes rested on us. I felt the enourmous gaze and felt like I was stung. Soon both his sons eyes locked on me and my mom. She realized quickly and slowed down with the running. She then waved at them. Andrew and Ethan waved back. Ryan stood there, looking maybe a little conflicted but surely also kinda annoyed.

At that point I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. My heart ached. As well did my head. My legs were shaky. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath correctly.

If you think you're not socially awkward, three giants looking down at you with their enourmous eyes, almost scanning you as if you were an insect would change your mind right away. And if you are socially awkward like me? Well, you would feel as if you were just about to die.

My mom rushed me again, ready to exit the safe space, that only allowed humans. I walked behind her, but I wasn't as excited or as fast. Partly, becouse I wanted to be out of the giants reach for as long as I could and partly becouse I was feeling worse and worse.

To be honest, I don't know what was making me feel bad. Maybe it was all the emotion, fear, anger and all, maybe it was my mental health killing me and shouting at me that danger was close, maybe it was the horrible flight, maybe it was my body being sick. I don't know.

What I do know is, each step I took, the more powerless I felt. My legs felt to weak to hold my bodyweight.

My mom was already by the exit door when she turned around to rush me again. I was maybe 7 feet behind her, still surrounded by the enourmous gazes of those three giants, two of which were smiling. Their smiles made me sick in my stomache, but Ryan who was the only one not smiling made me feel ever worse somehow.

I totally expected my mom to yell at me to hurry up, based on how excited she seem but she just stared at me for a secound with wide worried eyes and then returned to me.

"Are you okay honey? You don't seem too good"

I wanted to answer her but it came out as a soft yelp. I thought I was going to puke again.

Faces of the giants became more serious and worried. I didn't like that expression either, to be honest.

I looked back at mom as she reached out to me and raised her hand to my shoulder for comfort probably.

"Are you scared Zack? Is that it? Because if it is, I assure you, they won't hurt us. Ever." She spoke in a soft, quiet voice. Her expression didn't show anger but she looked more understanding than any other moment of the past few weeks. She spoke with such confidence I could have believed her.

Well, I maybe even would have if I didn't faint.

Because just a moment after she spoke my vision went black and my body felt weak. The last think I remember before fainting were thoese scary gazes and my mom yelling:

"Zack!"

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

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the 1st part!

[muu-kusunoki]

oh cool update of tarnished gold-

uh

[camellia-thea]

initially this post had some commentary about interests right now. and then it turned into a ramble about personal healing in the tags. so the interest post is going separately.

[inspector-montoya-fox]

hi how have you been?

[mako-island-moon-pool]

Ignored again today, going to start maiming the hostages until behavior improves

[lymtw]

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," he calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."

[skyrigel]

Break-up

Characters : Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini. Pancy Parkinson ( background )

How Slytherin boys will react when you ask them for break up.

Warning : might be toxic, alcoholism, possesive and obsessive behaviour, Reader feels they are too much ( in Blaise Zabini hc, you can skip that )

Mattheo Riddle

He's not going to listen a word so don't even bother.

He will shut you up real quick in more than one way, speaking too loud, cutting you mid, changing topics and rushing to classes that don't even exist and his most favourite, kissing you.

He would kiss you so hard that every thought inside your head would evaporate in fuzzy vapour, the bubbles in your head popping with each moan that would escape your throat.

“You were saying something?” He would ask so wickedly, amused with the dumb look you have plastered on your face and relishing while your fumble within words.

“ I don't think it's important." He would take your hand, kissing the inside of your palm, his sweet words vibrating through your skin.

“ yeah, not important.”

Draco Malfoy

Ofcourse he would be a nonchalant bastard about it, despite the brimming tears at the inside of his eyes.

“ oh, fancy potter now, don't you ? ” he would snarl, accusingly, his voice harsh and contempt choking him.

Draco would do everything wrong, say the wrong things, do even more.

He would start by parading Pancy around, so desperate that he would also accept Miss Greengrass's date invite.

But he would also cry, as soon as the facade will crumble, he would grip the sink till his knuckles went white, face wet and red with tears that wouldn't stop.

Then a word with his mother would do the miracle and the next thing you know would be a very drunk Draco howling and sobbing his undying love for you, refusing to leave and would make everyone listen how much he loves you, and how you belong with him.

“ Draco.” you winced at the grimness left behind after dries tears, softening.

“ Go back to your dorm.”

“ kiss me night and i'll go.” Draco slurred, you were pretty sure you smiled as soon as he said 'fight' instead of night.

“No.”

“ Yes!” He would lean down at you, pouting, and how much you loved this boy, all his tantrums, all his shenanigans. Your pretty, smart and silly boyfriend.

“Okay.” you breathed, pecking his cheek, tasting his tears and how much you hated it.

“ I'll be good...good for you.” he will be, you thought.

Tom Riddle

“ You decided that yourself ? ” Tom would whisper ever so dangerously, pressing closer, you could hear the pitch silence outside the tapestry.

“ It's not... It's not working Tom.” you knew he loved you but he was gone half the time, half the time with books that were too bold and dark, of magic that was malicious beyond your wits.

“ yeah ? ” He would smear his thumb across your face, kneading your cheek and you tried your best to stay quiet but the arousal that lurched inside you, just by his mere touch, sometimes just the way he looked at you, like he was part of your soul.

Tom would smirk, delighted when you moaned for him like that, he wasn't accepting at first how you drived his crazy just by existing. He wouldn't let you go, never ever.

“ I want to bury my soul into you.” His nose mapping your neck, taking your scent.

“ oh.” you trembled when his hands worked their way inside your shirt, cold rings blazing in your warm flesh.

“ But it will take time my darling.” his disappointment flushed when he looked up at you, breathless and hot under him.

“ so for now...” his mouth twitched, Head boy Tom Riddle, sinking to his knees, eyes glinting so bright. Oh how much he wishes to mingle your souls together, how much.

Theodore Nott

He's going to sensible, furrowing hard but listen when you tell him all the reasons how it could'nt work , he's considerate enough to pat your back, soothing you, when you break down in between.

“ If you need time baby, then I'll be patient.” he would say, kissing your forehead.

He wouldn't sit next to you in classes despite his soul wanting to crawl out of his body and embrace you.

Theo only sometimes snuggled next to you in armchair, you couldn't even blame him for it was too cold

He was on his best behaviour ignoring the totally 'accidental' beat ups of guys who were going to ask you or almost did, but in either way they never showed up.

“ I see you aren't dating anyone.” He would make no attempt to get up from your lap, discarding your homework with a swish of his wand.

“ shut up, or i will pour this ink pot on you.” you would bristle like a cat, it was inevitable not to card your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp, he relaxed into your touch, chuckling.

“ It wasn't me.”

You sighed, looking at the bruised knuckles because your baby wasn't even trying to be subtle. He could have used his wand, phew.

“ c'mon, now can we please date again ? ” He would look up with puppy eyes, sticking out his lower lip to look extra cute. Shit, you shouldn't have told him that.

“ You guys stopped dating ? ” Draco asked, brow raised in question.

“ hey.” His fingers reached to trace your jaw, arching a little as you gaped a soft, ‘Theo’

“ Please, please, please.” He pleaded, his chin raised, as if he could claim your lips just like that.

“ Get yourself a room ! ” Pancy snapped, Theo only sneered while you looked away flushed pink.

“ Theo, stop.” you whined, when he got up, hawling you up in his arms as you wacked him repeatedly.

“ I've been a good boy.” he would mouth, smiling when you would hide your blush in the crook of his neck.

“ The only thing I am interested in breaking with you,” a pause, “ is my bed.”

Blaise Zabini

“ What did I do wrong ? ” that's his first question and you're already guilty.

“ It's just everything is so messy Zab, it's too much for me.”

He couldn't say anything more, the lump in his throat strangling each sound that passed between his cartilage.

“ Blaise...” you whispered when his whole face, that shined brighter than the whole sky withered away.

“ Hey...” you cooed and nudged him lightly and it was enough to break free the sob that grasped his chest, his whole heart. He hiccuped before large tears streamed down his coppery skin, gleaming in the basking glow of midnight.

“ Don't... please..d.. don't ” he sobbed harder, his whole body shaking.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer till your heart were crossed.

“ I am too much Blaise... Like a black hole.” you could never take away his glisten, never.

“ I love you.” he said, wrapping himself around you, closing his eyes as tear escaped and brushed against your clothes, love lorned and love sick.

“ I love you too.” because how could you not say it back ? When he loved you like you were the most precious one to him.

You will try, try your best and let him shine, protect him from your drakness, you have to try your best.

New Mattheo fic - Don't blame me

[godsfavdarling]

How does that feel?

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You've been having a hard time finishing in bed and you finally tell Spencer what's going on. words: 4,4k warnings: smut - oral (fem! receiving), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't do that) a/n: this was a request! also, i've stared at this thing for so long i don't know anymore what's going on, but i hope yall like it <3

You sat at a cozy corner table in the dimly lit bar, surrounded by your closest friends - Penelope, Emily, and JJ. The four of you had met up for a much-needed girls' night out to finally have a chance to unwind and catch up. 

"Can you believe the latest case we worked on?" JJ said, shaking her head. "Sometimes it feels like we're living in a crime novel."

"Tell me about it," Emily agreed. "But PLEASE! Let’s not talk about work. I need to decompress."

Penelope raised her glass. "To decompressing! And to… friends!"

You all clinked glasses, smiling at each other. Very quickly the conversation shifted towards more personal topics.

"So, how are things with Will?" Emily asked, turning to JJ.

JJ smiled. "Things are great, actually. We're planning a little getaway next month, just the two of us. What about you, Em? Any romance on the horizon?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm enjoying the single life right now. Besides, it’s not easy to find love having this job. When am I supposed to do that?"

Penelope grinned. "Don’t you worry about it, pumpkin! You’re gonna find someone soon. I can feel it in my bones!."

The conversation continued in this vein for a while, each of you sharing updates about your romantic lives. You listened and laughed along, but Penelope's observant eyes caught the slightly distant look on your face.

"Alright, spill it," Penelope prompted, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What's been going on with you lately? You've seemed a bit off."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. These were your friends, after all, and you knew you could trust them. "It's just... I've been having a hard time finishing in bed lately. It's been… really frustrating."

Emily raised an eyebrow, her expression sympathetic. "Have you talked to Spencer about it?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make him feel bad or think it's his fault. He's always so attentive, and I don't want him to think he's doing something wrong. And he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s perfect. Obviously."

JJ leaned in, her voice gentle. "Hey, communication is key. Spencer loves you, and I'm sure he’d want to know what's going on so he can help. I’m sure his big brain knows exactly what to do."

Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Plus, it could be an opportunity to explore new things together… Sometimes all it takes is a little experimentation."

You smiled, feeling a bit more encouraged. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll talk to him."

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

Later that evening, you found yourself back at home, sitting on the couch next to Spencer. He was engrossed in a book, the dim light casting soft shadows across his focused face. He set the book aside when he noticed your pensive expression, concern immediately clouding his eyes.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Spence, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He turned to face you fully, his full attention on you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Of course. What is it?"

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap as you searched for the right words. Finally, you decided to dive in. "Lately, I've been having a hard time finishing in bed. It's been really frustrating for me, and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to feel bad."

Spencer's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. His mouth opened slightly as if to speak, but he hesitated, clearly processing what you had just revealed. "Oh…”

You immediately regretted saying anything. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. You still enjoyed sex but just couldn't reach the high. Maybe you were just too stressed. 

It had nothing to do with Spencer. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as Spencer seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. Why would he know what to say? You felt like you were just making things difficult.

“Forget it. It’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss the conversation and spare him the discomfort.

“No, no, no, wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your hands as you started to stand up. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I just… how did I not notice? I… I’m just trying to remember, well, I remember everything and I just… I can’t believe I… couldn’t tell.”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I didn’t want you to know. It’s embarrassing.” Your voice wavered, and you looked away, feeling tears start to spill down your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. It’s not embarrassing. I want you to feel good.”

“It does feel good. Always. I just… I don’t know. I just can’t cum. It’s like I get almost there and it feels good, but it never happens.” At this point, you were crying openly, the frustration and embarrassment overwhelming you.

Spencer pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and steady beat of his heart. He rubbed your back soothingly, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together. I want to help."

You clung to him, feeling the weight of your frustration starting to lift just a little. "I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to think it was your fault."

Spencer pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with love. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. Sometimes these things happen. What’s important is that we’re in this together. We can try new things, we can talk and see what works for you.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said, smiling gently, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “We’ll take it slow and explore together. Your pleasure is important to me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re satisfied.”

As you snuggled into his arms, the tension slowly easing from your body, you wondered why you had been so scared to tell him in the first place. Spencer always knew what to say, always knew how to make you feel safe and loved. 

This was Spencer - your Spencer - and you realized you had nothing to fear.

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

Spencer was clearly waiting for you to initiate anything, respecting your pace and comfort. In the meantime, he very carefully tried to understand you.

Despite his constant reassurances that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that he was more than happy to figure this out together, you couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment about your problem. He was understanding and supportive, trying to create a safe space for you to open up about your frustrations.

You spent several nights just talking, diving deep into the details of your intimate experiences. Spencer approached it with a mix of curiosity and determination, asking thoughtful and sometimes probing questions. 

You discussed every position you'd tried before, analyzing what felt best and why. You talked about your feelings toward toys and whether they might help. 

Spencer inquired about foreplay - whether it felt too short, too long, too intense, or not intense enough. He wanted to understand what was most pleasurable for you in terms of finishing. Was it when he was eating you out, fingering you, or through penetration? Or did you find that a combination of these was most satisfying? 

He also asked if you enjoyed it when he talked to you during the act. What were your favorite things for him to say? 

He wanted to understand everything about your experiences. What went through your mind when you masturbated? What kind of porn did you watch? Each question, while sometimes making your face flush with embarrassment, was asked with genuine care and focus. 

Spencer treated it like a meticulous scientific research project, aiming to solve the problem with the utmost care and attentiveness. His dedication and focus made you feel deeply cared for, as he was on a mission to be the one to help you find the satisfaction you deserved.

On Saturday night, you and Spencer lay in bed with your books, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's company. He was engrossed in a thick classic novel in a foreign language, while you were absorbed in your favorite author’s new romance. The plot had just reached the point where the two protagonists had sex for the first time. The scene stirred something deep within you, making your skin feel hot and your heart race. You bit your lip, trying to concentrate, but your thoughts kept drifting.

As the scene ended, you finally allowed yourself to look over at Spencer. He was completely lost in the pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Having problems, genius?” you teased, your voice carrying a playful edge.

“What? No!” he replied, not even looking up from the words on the page. “How’s your romance? Is it good?”

“Oh... it’s very good,” you said, scooting closer to him, propping your head on your hand. Finally, he looked at you, curiosity mingling with his usual attentiveness.

“What is it?” he asked, sensing your change in mood.

“Nothing,” you replied with feigned innocence, placing your hand on his chest. 

His eyes stayed on you, studying your expression. Your breathing grew heavier as you stared at his neck, unable to hold back any longer. You lowered your face to the side of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.

Spencer's breath hitched slightly, and he set his book aside, his attention fully on you now. "Are you sure it's nothing?" he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

You smiled against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Well, maybe it's something," you admitted, your voice a whisper. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his chest, feeling a now quicker beat of his heart beneath your touch.

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Tell me,” he urged softly, his eyes filled with desire.

The room felt charged with electricity. 

“Well… I was just reading this scene… where, you know… the girl and the boy finally fucked. On the floor. It made me think of us.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.

“You want to have sex on the floor?” Spencer asked with a serious tone.

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “No, too many germs,” you said with a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, his eyes softening with affection. “Alright, not on the floor then,” he said, his voice low and inviting as his hand gently caressed your cheek. “But I get the idea.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding with anticipation. “I just want to be close to you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes darkened with understanding, and he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft yet insistent. “Then let’s explore that together,” he whispered against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip, pulling you closer.

His kiss was deep, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that sent shivers down your spine. 

His hand, now resting on your hip, guided you closer, pressing your bodies together. 

You instinctively rubbed your thighs together, seeking some friction, and Spencer, ever observant, immediately noticed. It seemed impossible for him to be more attentive, yet somehow he was. 

With a gentle but deliberate motion, he turned you so that you were lying on your back beneath him. As he shifted, you felt the press of his already hard cock against your core, making you lift your hips slightly, yearning for more contact.

“We’re gonna take things slow, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “I want you to feel good.”

You wanted him, you wanted him now, but you understood his approach. 

After all the endless conversations, you and Spencer had reached a few conclusions about what worked best for you both. 

For one, you often found yourselves too excited, mostly you, to slow things down. Foreplay, though it was present, had usually been quite brief due to the intense need to get naked and feel him inside you. So, longer foreplay became a new priority.

Two, you discovered that you felt most connected when he was close to you, every part of his body touching yours.

Three, you both agreed on the importance of more kissing. Spencer had given you what felt like a comprehensive college level lesson on erogenous zones, emphasizing the need to focus on and cherish these areas. 

His lips, his touch, his breath - every aspect of physical intimacy was to be savored and explored in greater depth.

With these insights in mind, Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. His hands roamed your body with a slow, deliberate grace, each touch designed to explore and stimulate. 

His kisses traveled from your lips to your neck, then lower, each movement a careful balance of passion and tenderness.

He paused to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with both love and a hint of playful mischief. “Ready for us to take our time?” he asked, his voice a soothing murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief. “Let’s take our time.”

Your nipples were already hard against your tank top, the fabric offering little barrier to the stimulation. Spencer grazed the side of your breasts with his hands, his touch both teasing and tender. 

As his lips kissed and nuzzled your collarbones, his thumb began to circle your nipple through the thin material of your shirt. The sensation made you shiver with pleasure, and you melted further into his touch.

His leg, now firmly pressed between your thighs, rubbed gently against your inner thighs and core. The pressure of his length pressed into your hip, amplifying the heat building in you.

“Please, take it off,” you whispered, your voice quivering with need.

“Take off what?” Spencer murmured, his face still buried in your chest, his hair brushing against your face with every movement.

“My shirt. Please,” you pleaded, a hint of desperation in your voice.

He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slid his hands lower, pushing up your top to reveal your stomach. He showered your exposed skin with soft kisses, his lips warm and affectionate against your belly. 

As you reached for the hem of your shirt, you quickly pulled it off, tossing it aside.

“What happened to taking things slow?” Spencer asked, looking up at you with a teasing grin, his chin resting against your stomach.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a smile. “I just want to make sure you feel really good.”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Keep going.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured with a soft chuckle.

With that, Spencer moved between your legs, lifting them and resting them on his shoulders. He positioned himself comfortably, and you felt the anticipation rise as his face moved closer to your core. 

He inhaled deeply, his breath warm against your sensitive folds, making you whimper in response.

“Please,” you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, pulling down your underwear with careful, deliberate motions. He started with a gentle kiss on your nub, his lips exploring with a tenderness that made you gasp. 

He then trailed his kisses down to your thighs, peppering them with soft, teasing pecks. The sensation was delightful, and you giggled, placing your hand on his cheek.

He turned his mouth to your hand, kissing the inside of your palm before taking it in his hand and guiding it back to rest gently beside you. His fingers lingered, his touch warm and reassuring as he held your hand. 

He then looked at your cunt.

“You’re already so wet. For me?” he asked, his voice filled with both awe and desire.

“For you? Always,” you replied, your breath hitching.

He chuckled against you, the sound and the vibration making you shiver. “Don’t do that,” you said with a laugh, trying to steady your breathing.

“Sorry,” he murmured with a playful tone. 

Before you could say anything more, he gave you a long, slow lick from your entrance to the top, his tongue moving with a deliberate slowness. He stopped at your sensitive nub and began to suck gently, his mouth working with a rhythm that made you arch your back and moan in pleasure.

Spencer’s mouth was a world of sensation against you. 

He kept going with long, languid licks, his tongue gliding from your entrance to the top of your sensitive nub. Each stroke was deliberate, exploring every inch with a careful, loving precision. 

The warmth of his tongue, combined with the perfect pressure, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you gasp and moan.

You felt your breath quicken as his movements became more focused. 

He moved his tongue in quicker, teasing circles around your clit, his mouth creating a constant, delightful friction. 

You squirmed under the intensity, your hips instinctively bucking in response.

When you no longer felt him on your clit, a desperate cry for him almost escaped your lips. But then, he gently slipped his tongue inside you, and a wave of relief and pleasure washed over you. 

He moved with precision, his tongue exploring deeper while maintaining the steady, teasing motions that drove you wild. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum pleasure from you.

His nose brushed against your folds and clit with each movement, adding an extra layer of sensation. The combination of his tongue inside you and the gentle pressure of his nose against your most sensitive spot made you tremble. 

Your hand clutched at the sheets, your body arching toward him, seeking more.

You could feel the build-up of tension and ecstasy swelling inside you.

Through all of this, Spencer held your hand firmly in his, his fingers intertwined with yours. 

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you squeezed his hand tightly, your fingers gripping his with a mix of desperation and pleasure. 

Spencer responded by tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch soothing and intimate amidst all the intense sensations he was creating.

With a final, expert flick of his tongue, he sent you spiraling into a powerful climax. 

Your body tensed and then released in a wave of pleasure, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued his slow, consistent movements, savoring every moment of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he slowly eased his mouth away, leaving soft, lingering kisses along your inner thighs. 

His hand remained clasped with yours, and he looked into your eyes from between your thighs, his expression a mix of content and desire. “Wanna keep going? We can stop if you need to.”

You shook your head, a determined glint in your eyes as you pulled yourself up and crushed into him, pressing your lips against his with an almost desperate intensity. 

The kiss was fervent, your tongues dancing together, both urgent and consuming as you tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. He was covered in you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your back, his touch warm and gentle, but firm at the same time.

Tonight felt different. It was more intense, more electric. 

As your kiss grew deeper, you moaned into him, the sound mingling with his own soft groans of pleasure. With a deft maneuver, he turned you so that you were straddling him, his hands firmly on your hips.

“Is this okay?” he managed to ask, his voice a low rumble as he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. The effort it took to break the kiss was evident, his breaths heavy and laden with desire.

“Yes,” you responded quickly, your need palpable as you crashed your lips back onto his, kissing him even harder. 

“Baby, slow down,” Spencer said softly, though his voice was tinged with longing. “We were meant to go slow.”

You moved your lips to his cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of kisses that were tender but laced with urgency. “I need you. I need you so bad,” you whispered against his skin, the words laced with an aching desire.

Spencer gently cupped your face, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your jawline. He guided your gaze to meet his.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise and his eyes filled with affection “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We have all night and even more.”

He leaned in and kissed you with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of moments before. 

“How do you do it?” you asked breathlessly, your curiosity blending with the haze of desire. You wondered, as you looked into his eyes, how he managed to maintain such control over himself amidst all the passion.

“What?” Spencer’s voice was a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Stop yourself,” you clarified, your voice barely above a whisper. “How do you manage to hold back?”

Spencer’s eyes softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s not about holding back,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “It’s about making sure you feel good. I want this to be perfect for you, for us, every time. That’s what matters.”

His words stirred something deep within you, and you were hit by a wave of warmth and appreciation. As he leaned in to kiss you again, the tender, loving nature of his touch gave you goosebumps.

“Can we fuck now?” you asked, your voice husky with need.

Spencer looked at you with a warm, eager smile. “Yes. Yes, we can,”

You gave his cock a few teasing strokes, feeling the way he reacted, his breath hitching as he moaned softly into your shoulder. You slowly guided him to your entrance. 

The sensation of him pressing against you was both thrilling and comforting, a familiar solace you will never get tired of and always makes your world shudder.

With a gentle, deliberate motion, you positioned him at your core, and you slowly lowered yourself onto him. 

The gradual stretch and the way he filled you completely was exquisite, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths softly. 

You took your time, savoring each inch, feeling every subtle shift and movement.

Spencer’s hands were steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you as you adjusted to his size. His breaths were heavy, matching the rhythm of your movements. 

The room was filled with only the sound of your shared pleasure, a mix of gasps and moans.

As you slowly rode him, the rhythm of your movements became more synchronized, each motion building both of you up to the peak. 

Spencer’s hands were not idle - he moved with purpose, his touch exploring every inch of your body with a deep, loving attentiveness.

One hand continued to support you around your lower back, while the other trailed up to your breasts. His fingers began to play with your nipples, gently pinching and rolling them as you moved. 

That was one thing you had confessed to him during one of your intimate conversations, and Spencer had clearly taken it to heart. You had shared with him how much you loved when he played with your breasts, revealing, a bit embarrassed, the deep pleasure it brought you.

“How does that feel?” he asked in between the kisses he left on your neck, his voice a husky whisper against your skin.

“Fuck,” was all you managed to say, a breathless gasp that made him chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.

He massaged your breasts tenderly, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, adjusting his touch to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His lips covered every inch of your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

The combination of his hands on your breasts, the feeling of him inside you, and his lips on your skin was overwhelming. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Spencer’s breath came in ragged gasps, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours. His hands worked skillfully, keeping your nipples sensitive and aroused as your movements became more frantic and desperate. Then his eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of concentration and passion evident in his gaze.

While you stared into his brown eyes, he finally teased your nipple with a light lick of his tongue. 

You almost screamed. 

He started kissing it while his other hand worked on your other breast, his mouth hot and insistent. His tongue traced circles around your hard peak, sending shivers down your spine, while his slim fingers squeezed the other one.

At that point, you screamed into his ear, unable to contain the intensity of your pleasure.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your voice a trembling apology.

“It’s okay. You’re so beautiful,” he replied, his eyes softening with affection as he looked at you, his hands never ceasing their tender ministrations. His words and touch combined, making you feel cherished and desired in every way and that made your heart swell.

His lips returned to your other nipple, sucking and teasing it with more insistence now.

Finally, the pressure inside you reached its peak. 

With a gasp and a shudder, you came, the wave of ecstasy crashing over you while his lips stayed on your breasts peppering them with kisses.

Your body tensed and then relaxed as you rode out the climax, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued to stroke your breasts gently, his touch both soothing and stimulating as he guided you through the final throes of your orgasm.

As you slowly came down from the high, you leaned your head against his, your fingers gently threading through his hair, the other arm wrapped around his neck. He held you close, his hands now lingering on your back with a soft, affectionate touch. 

He squeezed you tightly, turning his face to kiss your neck, which elicited one more moan from your lips. 

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he squeezed you tightly one more time.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Comfort ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Summary: You and Lando have dealt with anxiety separately, but now you have each other.

➻ ln4 x reader ⋆˚✿˖°

➻ fluff + comfort ⋆˚✿˖°

masterlist ☾☼

one of the first things that you and lando had bonded over was anxiety. the two of you had separate reasons for it, but it did not change the fact that the two of you had very similar processes on dealing with it. it did not take much time for the both of you to have each other on speed dial for when there was an oncoming panic attack, or when the mind began spiralling with no intentions to stop. 

over the years, the friendship grew into something more, and your responses to your increased anxiety changed with that. at first, it did not include other human beings at all, and instead focused on pets or music or even purposely tiring yourself out through exercise. now, it included each other. 

the first time you got overstimulated around him was when he had sneaked you in the McLaren paddock. you were excited to be there for lando, and he was excited to have you there. you knew how serious lando was about driving and understanding the car himself, so you steered clear as much as possible so as to not distract him. what you were not expecting though, was the amount of people there. 

obviously, you were aware that there were going to be a lot of people present, but you had underestimated just how much. someone was constantly bumping into you or brushing against you. there were too many hands and bodies and they were all too close. you could feel the itch under your skin to get away. to find a place where no one could touch you in any way or form. you felt uneasy and uncomfortable, and you wanted to scrub your skin to remove all the stranger skin feel. 

“y/n, love, i’m going to-“ lands voice was loud in your ears. he was too close. his skin felt weird. you needed him close. what was happening? 

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” your eyes focused on his shoes. his toes were touching yours. too close. his voice was loud, but everything else was louder. someone bumped into you, and you fell into lando. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist. you cringed at the feeling. 

“love, what’s wrong?” he asked again.

“overstimulated. too many people touching. i don’t like it. i can’t-“ you broke off. you wanted to cry. you shouldn’t. you did not want to cry in the paddock. 

lando took a step back, and your heart slowed down a little. he stared at you for a second, and you worried that he was going to be disappointed. and then, his pinky finger reached out to you. you stared at it. he waited patiently. slowly, you wrapped your pinky finger around his, and your body relaxed a little. 

he did not say a word, and instead just led you to a deserted corner. you tried not to wince at the feel of people, and instead focused on lando’s pinky finger and the small part of your skin that was connected to someone else, connected to lando. 

keeping his finger interlocked with yours, he whispered, “no one’s going to be too close if you stand here. you can still watch the race from here, and i’ll get a chair for you to get comfortable in. i’ll come see you before i have to go, and i’ll come see you as soon as i’m out of the car. okay?” 

you nodded. “thank you. i’m sorry i’m ruining this-“ 

“never apologise for something like this. thank you for telling me that you were feeling overstimulated. thank you for trusting me.” 

you wanted to hug him. god, you wanted to hug him so desperately, but the mere thought of his body pressed against yours made you uneasy. instead, you squeezed your pinky finger around his and smiled at him. he smiled back at you, his lips spreading wide, and his eyes sparkling. he left a featherlight kiss on your forehead, before turning and leaving. 

he understood you. 

and just like he understood you, you understood him. 

it was a couple of years later when it happened in the paddock again. except, it wasn’t you who got overstimulated. lando and you had been public for only about a year, and you were sitting with the headphones on, watching the race. 

lando hadn’t been feeling so well that morning, and you knew it was just nerves. he hadn’t eaten and was solely surviving on water. you had been worried, but you also knew that this was every race weekend. 

as you watched on, the entire area was silent as everyone focused on the way lando and george drove wheel to wheel. everyone watched with bated breath as the next turn came up, and you watched in shock as lando lost control of the car and hit the wall. his front wing had been crushed completely, and the red flag alert was sent out. you watched with nervousness that you had never experienced before as lando got out of the car and into the safety car. 

removing the headphones, you ran to the driver’s room, where you knew lando would isolate himself, at least for a few minutes. you waited, pacing the room, when suddenly the door opened. lando looked at you with red eyes, and his fingers were twitching by his side. 

quickly locking the door, lando took three steps towards you and crashed into a hug. his breathing was fast, and you could feel his heartbeat through his fireproofs. 

“lan, what’s wrong?” you asked softly. 

“can feel it everywhere. it’s too loud. it’s ringing in my ears.” he whispered against your neck. 

you shifted the two of you, lando still holding onto you tightly. you sat down on the couch, pulling lando with you. 

“what can you feel everywhere, baby? your heartbeat?” you asked softly. 

he nodded, his arms tightening around you. 

grabbing one of his hands, you shifted it and placed it against your heart. you whispered in his ear, “breathe with me. in, and out.” 

lando followed your instructions, mentally counting your heartbeat and matching your breathing. slowly, his heart rate went back to normal, and his breathing evened out. “i’m so tired.” he said. 

running your fingers through his hair, you replied, “you can sleep for a little while. i’ll wake you up when someone calls you for something.” 

“thank you,” a gentle kiss was pressed against your collarbone. 

“i love you.” you said. 

“i love you more.” 

you scoffed, smiling, “that’s not possible.” 

he hummed, “watch me.” 

you smiled against his hair, and tightened your hold on him. 

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

i've had this idea for a while, and I finally wrote it! i hope you guys enjoyed it! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Cregan Stark x Targ!wife

Summary: Just Cregan Stark and his beautiful wife with their children

Cregan Stark just loves you and your kids with all his heart and soul. He would die for you all. He would kill for you all. And the same thing could be said about you. You won't hesitate to rain fire on anymore who threatens your family.

Imagine your twin boys running around Winterfell. Both are mini versions of Cregan Stark, but there is fire in their blood as well which they got from you.

Imagine the little twins with wooden swords playing and pretending to be their brave father. Both bravely challenging your loyal guard and your guard just happily loses to them.

Imagine Cregan trying to tell them bedtime stories but he is not really good at it, or at least he is not as good as you. But he tries. If it doesn't work he will bring the boys to you. Imagine the twins sleeping in between you and Cregan while you tell them the story. The plan was for Cregan to carry the boys to their room after they fell asleep, but Cregan himself couldn't keep his eyes open. Once they are asleep you just kiss their forehead and sleep on your side.

Cregan always jokes that the boys are completely like him and are full Starks (although he was secretly hoping one of them would look like you).

Imagine Cregan teaching the boys about the North. Telling them about their history. They are very interested to know everything. They especially love when their father trains them to fight.

But then their lessons on high valyrian started and you also started teaching them how to bond and handle their dragons, which became their favorite lessons. The boys would rather bond with their dragons than study. Cregan has to personally go to the dragon cave and drag them away.

Imagine your twins standing with their father and looking up at the sky as you ride your dragon. Their dragons are not large enough to carry the rider but they are growing fast.

Cregan can be a strict father sometimes. It's necessary since it's his duty as the Lord of Winterfell to teach his sons and heir everything.

Imagine Cregan taking the twins to the wall. The boys are young but they are Stark. They need to know the importance of the wall and understand their duty. The trip was not easy for Cregan since your twins can be a handful, especially since you didn't go with them. One of them even tried to sneak out beyond the wall, but a ranger caught him.

"I didn't know raising sons can be so exhausting," The first thing Cregan said to you as soon as he got back. The boys just can't stop telling you about the wall, excitedly describing every single detail about it. "This one tried to sneak out and go beyond the wall," Cregan pointed at his son. "YOU DID WHAT?" Needless to say he was kind of grounded till he realized how dangerous it was. It was necessary. And now he is even more curious about what lies beyond the wall.

Imagine you get pregnant again. The twins just can't wait to have another sibling. Cregan is just praying that this one is a girl. And his prayers were answered. Your third child is a girl, a mini you, with the silver hair and purple eyes.

Cregan thought his daughter would be calmer than his sons, but he was wrong. She is a little warrior with big dreams of leading armies and winning battles.

The twins just adore their little sister and are extremely protective of her. Everyone in Winterfell loves her. And somehow Cregan is better with raising his daughter.

Imagine the entire family at feasts. The little ones busy with some shenanigans, Cregan trying to make them stop.

Or imagine the twins flying their dragons for the first time. Cregan is more nervous than them. He just doesn't want his sons to fall and get hurt. You constantly comforting him. And he was extremely terrified when your daughter first rode her dragon.

Just imagine a relaxing family time. All of you in one room. Your daughter telling Cregan how she will be a warrior when she grows up. The twins discussing about taking the dragons hunting, because they just can't compete with their father on horses and normal hunting. You sitting next to Cregan, leaning against him and just enjoying

[gurugirl]

Baby Daddy | friends to lovers (to parents)

Summary: After you have a one-night stand with your good friend Harry and become pregnant he doesn't know for certain that the baby is his, but he has his suspicions.

A/N: Requested! Here & Here. This was originally posted on Patreon.

Word Count: 13,995

Warning, smut, pregnancy trope (there will be talk of y/n going through her pregnancy and all that entails but not in great detail), mention of abortion, alcohol consumption, teeniest bit of angst, lying, fluff

❊❊❊

You stared down at the pink double lines on the stick that indicated you were pregnant. How could it be? It was a one-time thing! He’d only come inside of you once (and you’d also only had sex the once). How was it possible that he knocked you up? You shook your head and frowned as you sat down on the toilet lid and thought back to that night 7 weeks before.

~~

Harry was there for you. To console you after the gut-wrenching breakup with Joe. Which had kind of surprised you. Your roommate had been at work so you called your best friend, Erin, and she was busy already but told you she’d see you the next morning as soon as she could. You called your cousin. Voicemail. And then you called Harry, not thinking he’d even pick up. But he did – I need to go out for a drink. Joe just broke up with me. Come get drunk with me.

Harry showed up at your apartment and wrapped you in his arms and you sobbed into his armpit, which smelled really nice you thought, and when you looked up at his face to tell him as much he laughed and kissed your forehead, “You’re too adorable to cry. Come on angel. Let’s go get us a drink and talk about everything.”

One dirty martini got you yammering on and two had you sitting far too close with Harry grinning dopily. Three had you complimenting his green eyes I always thought you had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen… and spilling intimate details about you and Joe that no one else knew.

And four? Well… Four martinis had you pressed into the wall next to the bathrooms with Harry’s hot mouth all over yours as he confessed how he’d always wanted you. And then it had Harry calling a taxi to bring you both back to your place.

“Shhh!” You giggled as Harry collapsed on your mattress and pulled you down with him making you nearly knee him in the balls.

“You shhhh!” He pawed at your bum and then ran his lips against yours as he closed his eyes, mouth half-cocked in a smile.

You weren’t being as quiet as you should have been. Your roommate could’ve heard you and Harry and that would just have opened up a whole can of worms you weren’t willing to delve into.

See, not only did she think you were still dating Joe, you and Harry were good friends. Since grammar school. And your roommate was one of your closest friends who was also very good friends with Harry. So, keeping quiet while you were on your bed with him at 2 in the morning as you unbuttoned his jeans was imperative.

He was just trying to distract you from how upset you were about Joe. He bought you drinks and had a few of his own. He kept pulling at your lip when he’d see you start to pout, and he’d make a dumb joke or compliment you so you’d feel better. Then you two were laughing and swaying together on the dance floor to one of those popular radio songs that was kind of sexy with a slow beat, he whispered into your ear that you were cute, and then his hand found your hip and the whole world stopped.

That’s how Harry wound up in your bed pressing kisses to your neck as you both hastily undressed. That’s how he wound up between your legs, eating you out until you whined that you wanted him inside of you and so without care or thought about what could go wrong or what you were getting yourself into he slowly pushed himself in and you gasped.

“Oooh, fuck that feels good…” he breathed when he felt you wrapped around him. Every rock of his hips pulled and then pushed his cock through your walls.

He whispered to you like that all throughout. Soft and sexy. His deep voice had you tingling and his cock had you absolutely gushing. Everything about having sex with Harry was intimate and sweltering. You’d never been fucked so good in your life and even though you were still upset about your recent breakup, Harry’s dick and his dirty mouth were pulling you through the murky heartache a bit faster.

He fucked you so good you saw stars when you came. And the fact that you came in the first place was a feat in and of itself. Because Joe had never once made you come in all the time you dated him.

But it had been the best. It was just what you needed in that moment. His hands and lips on your body, his deep voice in your ear telling you how he’d always wanted to do that with you, messy hair, sloppy kisses, wet thrusts…

And when he came you told him to come inside of you and you felt every bit of that as he pumped into you, gushes of his sperm filling your insides as he kissed you softly through his orgasm while you gently ran your fingers into his hair.

All of it was so good. It could have been like a fairytale, some sort of epiphany where two friends suddenly realize they’ve been in love all along and they live happily ever after. But the problem was you were both a bit tipsy and you’d fucked without a condom. And the following morning when he ducked out before Esie woke up was the last time you two ever spoke of your drunken night.

And now here you were with a positive pregnancy test that looked up at you tauntingly.

You’d had your suspicions but hoped you were wrong. You started getting a touch queasy around 10 am while you were at work and your normal vanilla latte didn’t sit right with your tummy anymore. And then there was the exhaustion. You were so tired you were falling asleep on the couch by 8 pm every night and Esie teased you about it.

But the biggest clue was when your period didn’t come. You were regular like clockwork and you knew then but just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You weren’t sure what to do. You knew without a doubt it wasn’t Joe’s. You two had been having issues a month before he broke up with you and you hadn’t slept together since then. That left one option for the father and you certainly weren’t going to tell Harry about it. At least not right away. You figured he didn’t deserve to be tied down to you like that. Perhaps you’d just get an abortion, or maybe you’d have the baby and never tell anyone who the father was.

Whatever you decided, it wasn’t going to be an easy decision.

. . .

“Harry’s here,” Esie spoke when you walked into your apartment after work. She was sitting on the couch, “In the bathroom. Just wanted to let you know so you don’t have a scare when he walks out. You’ve been so jumpy lately.”

You gave her a weak smile and nodded, “Oh. Thanks.”

You kind of wished he wasn’t in the bathroom. You had to pee badly. Maybe worse than you ever had in your life. That was another thing, as the weeks drew on your bladder somehow seemed to shrink and you were constantly peeing.

The moment he opened the door you raced past him to take your turn.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, Y/n,” he laughed as you pushed the door closed and sat on the toilet in relief.

There was no time for niceties. Your bladder was about to burst. And not only that… you were in a bit of a foul mood. As nice as Harry was, you just wanted to get into your PJs and curl up with a book and ginger tea to soothe your queasy tummy. You really weren’t keen on entertaining him that evening.

When you finally joined the pair in the living room you’d already put on your comfy clothes and washed your face clean of makeup.

“Oh, you staying in for the night?” Harry spoke as you plopped down into the soft cushion.

“Yeah. Not feeling very good right now. Why? Are you guys doing something?”

Esie laughed, “Y/n’s been really forgetful lately,” she turned to look at you and tilted her head, “It’s Harry’s birthday today, Y/n. We were gonna take him out. Remember?”

You groaned and dropped your head back into the couch cushion, “Fuck. I totally forgot. I’m sorry, uh,” you looked at Harry and forced a smile, “Happy birthday.”

He shrugged, “It’s fine. Just another day. You don’t have to come if you’re not up for it, Y/n.”

You shook your head and pushed yourself from the couch to stand, “No. I’m coming. Let me just get dressed…”

And yet the other thing that was becoming… well, a thing… was that some of your clothes were a bit too tight in the waist. In the morning you could put on almost anything from your closet and it’d feel normal. But by the end of the day, your clothes had suddenly shrunk. The first pair of jeans you pulled up your legs buttoned but they were tight. So you cursed and tore them off, kicking them away before settling on leggings and a sweater.

At that point, you were around ten weeks and you had yet to go to the doctor, which you knew was bad but you weren’t sure what to do. Part of you wanted to have a baby, even if no one ever knew who the father was. But the other part of you wanted to continue on in life as you were before that night with Harry. Before you got pregnant.

Your small group of friends were already at the bar when the three of you arrived. Everyone ordered drinks and you had a water.

“Not drinking tonight?” Seth commented.

You shook your head, “Not feeling the greatest today.”

Harry sat down next to you and put an arm over your shoulder, “You didn’t have to come. I know you’re not feeling great. Stomach bug or something?”

You turned to look up at him and in that moment you felt a bit of relief. Like there was nothing to be scared of. Harry was a good guy. Someone you trusted and could rely on. Maybe having the baby wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it turned out anything like him.

“Yeah, I think so. Just feeling blah…”

“Well thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you,” he grinned and those damn dimples were like an elixir, soothing and restorative. Maybe it was pheromones or just being tucked under his arm so close or being given his attention, but you knew for sure that he was attractive, you’d always thought so. But now? It had morphed into some dreamy kind of residue that clung to you all the time. Made you wish you could just reach up and press your mouth to his. Tell him the truth and see what happened.

You thought about it often. That night. How ardent it was. You’d never had it like that before. You two just fit together so well. Everything slid together like it was a key into a lock. He touched you just how you craved, his warm lips were sensual, his words, his voice, his body, his laugh.

Harry stayed by your side all night. Everyone sang him happy birthday and he pinched your arm when you told him he was getting old. You couldn’t tell if that was just him being himself around you or if he was kind of flirting with you. But you brushed off that thought easily. He could have any girl he wanted and even though you sometimes wondered about the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t allow yourself to get hung up on that.

You had bigger things to worry about. Much bigger things. And just being next to him with his fingers at your shoulder, his deep raspy voice in your ear, the subtle flirting… it was in that moment that you made your decision about what you were going to do with the baby.

After you finally booked your first appointment with your doctor your decision to keep It was crazy but you wanted it. Doing the whole single-motherhood thing might be insane but you were determined. Somehow you felt a connection to the little life growing inside of you and the idea of being without it suddenly felt worse than letting your life go back to the way it was before.

It was months before anyone caught on. Before your best friend Erin figured it out. You were glad that none of your friends were observant enough to notice too soon (and that the weather had been cool enough that your wearing baggy sweaters didn’t raise any eyebrows). You felt like you needed those few months to adjust to what things were going to be like. To make a plan, to settle it within yourself that you were going to have a child and you were going to do it alone.

Well, mostly alone. You weren’t sure when or if you’d tell Harry. It might have been selfish to keep it to yourself but somehow you felt like it would mess up his life. He’d be forever stuck in your little town. Kind of like you probably would be.

“Can I ask you something,” Erin whispered as she pulled you aside.

You sighed. You’d noticed her eyeing your belly region since you arrived at her house. And on that particular day in May, it was oddly sweltering hot so you refused to put on anything that would have you sweating more than you needed to. You were at the point in your pregnancy where your comfort started to take precedence over hiding what was happening in your body. You couldn’t take it any longer. Five months pregnant and the baby was already bigger than was normal. Your doctor had made a joke that you’d have a 9 lb baby. Which didn’t sound funny to you at all.

Of course, Harry would make a massive baby. You wondered if he’d been big when he was born too.

“I know what you’re gonna say and it is exactly what it looks like,” you put your palms on both sides of your growing tummy.

Erin flitted her gaze down to your tummy and up to your face as she put her hand over her mouth, “Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed time to let it sink in. Just didn’t want to deal with talking about it really. It’s embarrassing.”

Erin shook her head, “No it’s not. You know you can trust me. Right? So it’s Joe’s?”

You blinked your eyes and looked down at the grass under your sandaled feet. You’d rehearsed what you’d say to everyone but you hated not telling the whole truth, “I haven’t gotten a paternity test but…” you shrugged. Hoping that was enough. Not a lie but certainly not the whole truth.

 “Oh wow. So he knocked you up and then broke up with you? Or wait… does he not know?”

You shook your head, “No one knows. Except for you now. And the doctor of course. Oh, and my mom. That’s it.”

Erin was having a little backyard barbeque. Most of your friends would be there. You figured with your outfit, a pair of linen shorts with a stretchy waistband and a tanktop that should have been a bit breezier but instead was rather tight, people would notice. Not everyone had arrived yet but you were anticipating a coming out of sorts. It made you nervous but you couldn’t really hide it anymore.

“So no alcohol for you then,” Erin snickered as she placed two bottles of wine on the outdoor table.

“Yeah. No booze for me for a bit,” you laughed with her. It was nice to have your best friend in the loop finally. You had wanted to tell her so many times. Nearly did the moment you saw the lines on the pregnancy test. But you just never found the right time to do it and selfishly you wanted to keep it a secret a little longer before everyone found out.

And just as you assumed, everyone who came, who knew you, took note of your obviously pregnant belly. Those who knew you asked about it, while those who didn’t didn’t. Most were perfectly polite. But your thoughts and attention were elsewhere because you were most nervous to see Harry. To face him and take in his reaction.

You were in the kitchen putting buns on a platter when he finally joined you. You hadn’t really looked in his direction much when he arrived because you were too nervous to see his face when he noticed your belly.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and disarming. You turned to look at him as he walked up behind you and squeezed your shoulders, “Gonna tell me what this is all about?”

You looked down at your tummy and then pulled another bun from its package and shrugged, “Well, I’m pregnant. What more should I say?” You laughed as you glanced at him and then back down to the platter. The words felt acrid because you knew why he was asking and now you were going to have to lie to him.

“I can see that, Y/n. How far along are you?” His expression was serious. He was clearly not in the mood for jokes and you could understand why.

Was he doing mental math? He probably was. Harry was not a dumb man. His first question to ask how far along you were indicated as much.

“About 5 months.”

It was silent for a moment. You crumpled up the plastic bag and looked at him and the expression on his face was telling.

“What?”

He shook his head and leaned his hip into the counter, taking the plastic from your hand, “Is it…” he took a breath and searched your eyes, “Is the baby…?”

You shook your head, “No. It’s Joe’s. Don’t worry.”

A full-on, flat-out lie. You hadn’t planned on lying directly like that but how could you tell him the truth? You’d already dug your hole so deep, might as well keep going.

“You sure? I mean… I thought you said that you two hadn’t… like… we didn’t use protection, Y/n,” he lowered his voice.

Letting out a breath you nodded, “Don’t worry, Harry. Really. You’re not on the hook for this. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Does Joe know?” You were surprised that he appeared… disappointed.

“No. Hardly anyone knows,” you laughed, “Well, after today everyone’s gonna know I guess.”

Harry carried the tray of buns outside for you. You told him you could do it. That you were on bun duty because it was one thing Erin would allow you to help with. But he insisted. In fact the rest of the afternoon he was doing lots of small things for you. Once you were seated to eat he gathered up all the sauces and brought them to you, asking which you’d like and spooning them onto your plastic plate. He refilled your cup with water every time it got low, helped you stand up when you started to get out of your chair after eating, and then brought you a cupcake when you mentioned to Erin how good they looked.

But Harry was kind of always like that. He was the sort of friend that did nice things for all of his friends. Except there was something this time. Perhaps it was just your own perception of it based on the little secret you had, but his attention was not taken for granted. You appreciated his kindness.

And before he left he pulled you to the side and hugged you into his broad chest, “Let me know if you need anything. Okay?” He cupped your face in his hands to look at you.

You nodded, “Okay. Thank you, Harry.”

. . .

Harry learned you hadn’t gotten a paternity test when he talked to Erin about you. You had made it seem like you were sure it was Joe’s but how could you be so sure? The timing was suspicious to him, especially since you told him, the night you two had sex, that Joe hadn’t touched you in over a month. And that’s kind of what put everything into motion with Harry coming on to you. He felt like when you told him that, you were laying down some kind of hint. So that part he remembered clearly.

But he remembered everything quite clearly from that night. He might have been a bit tipsy but there wasn’t a moment he’d forgotten. Like how he orgasmed inside of you. And how after he’d come you both laid together with his cock still inside of you as he gently rocked in deeper, which he was now sure had only pushed his come further into you.

And that had been so dumb. Of both of you. You asked him to come inside of you and he did without question. That was where his horny/tipsy brain let him down. But what choice did he have except to believe you when you told him the baby wasn’t his?

He wouldn’t press the issue but he wasn’t going to ignore his suspicions either. He’d push them down and choose to believe you but not without being a bit more watchful.

. . .

Once all your friends knew you were pregnant word spread a little faster than you preferred. You just hoped that it wouldn’t get back to Joe because if it did you’d have to confess that you lied and then all hell would break loose. Or that’s how it felt anyway. Maybe that was a bit dramatic of you with whole hell-breaking-loose talk but you were allowed to be dramatic!

All your life you’d done things the normal way. Under the radar. Never causing so much as a peep when you didn’t like something just so you wouldn’t offend anyone. You put up with a lot of shit from other people who didn’t take your thoughts and feelings into account.

So now things were different. It was like being pregnant had changed you. Where you once were a quiet doormat, now you were a bit louder with demands.

“Jesus. What’s gotten into you?” Erin laughed when you plopped down onto your couch after you just told her you had no desire for a baby shower and to drop it.

You put your hands on your belly, “This. I think being pregnant has like changed my brain chemistry or something. I have no patience for bullshit anymore. And a baby shower? Really, Erin? That sounds awful.”

Erin sat down next to you and put her hand on your bump, “I like the new you. And I can’t wait to meet this little one who’s giving you this new attitude.”

You laughed, “Yeah. Me too. The closer it gets the more scared I am but also really excited in a way.”

“You realize I’m throwing you a baby shower whether you say yes or not. I love your new gives-no-shits approach lately but come on, Y/n. You need things and if Joe isn’t going to pitch in then you need help from all your friends.”

You knew she wasn’t going to give up on the baby shower idea. You felt like a fraud, though. Gifts and a whole afternoon spent in your honor because you went and had sex without a condom?

“I know you’re gonna do it anyway. All I ask is that you don’t make some big announcement. I don’t want Joe to know about it or anything.”

Erin sighed, “Why don’t you tell him, Y/n? He could help you with everything too. And I know you two broke up but it’s something to think about ya know? Like he could pay child support and you’d have the father listed on the birth certificate and it’s good for like, health stuff too. Like anything that could be hereditary from Joe?”

Pursing your lips you looked toward the window. You’d already decided on telling Harry at some point. You’d gotten past the whole single mom, doing it on her own BS when the doctor told you the same thing. How important it could be to know the baby’s father’s medical history. You just hadn’t figured out when to tell him yet. Timing would be important but the shame of having lied all along was really what was keeping you from telling him.

“You’re right. The doctor told me the same thing. But, it’s not that easy…” your pulse increased as you looked at Erin. You didn’t know why but you felt the need to tell her everything. To come right out and just tell her. She was your best friend after all. You could trust her not to say anything.

“I know it’s not easy but come on… he’s gonna figure it out at some point. He was just at Seth’s house the other night when I went to pick up Marcy. Seth’s cousin knows you’re pregnant and so do half of his friends and if Seth finds out you know Joe will find out.”

Sighing you leaned your head back into the couch cushion behind you, “It’s not Joe’s.”

Erin was silent for a moment and then you felt the couch shift as she angled herself to face you, “Okay. And do you know who the father is?”

Nodding you turned your head to look at her, “Don’t say anything to anyone. But it’s… Harry.”

Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she stood up and paced in front of the couch, “Harry Styles? Our Harry?” She stopped and looked at you, shock on her face.

“Yes. That Harry.”

She continued pacing, “How? When did… but…”

“It was just one night. Right after Joe broke up with me we went out and he came back home with me and then that was it. Got knocked up from just the once.”

“Holy shit… Okay… Okay…” Erin sat down and took your hand into hers, “Harry’s a really good man. I just know he’d be supportive and loving with the baby. I actually think Harry being the father is way better. This is actually,” she puffed out a laugh, “This good news! Oh my god, this is… and I think you two would make the best couple. He’s always had a crush on you and–“

“Stop,” you put your hand up, “One thing at a time. Okay? I’m not thinking about any kind of romantic relationship right now. I’m just concerned with getting this thing out of me healthily and figuring out how to tell Harry in the first place.”

“So you’re gonna tell him. Okay… Listen… I’m not going to tell anyone. You already know that. But this, Y/n… this is good. Okay? Harry and you? You don’t need to be thinking about the future of your relationship with him right now but you’re set, girl. If Harry’s the dad? But you better figure out how to tell him soon. He’s been talking to some chick he works with. I don’t think it’s anything serious but still…”

Rolling your eyes you shook your head, “I’ll figure out when to tell him. It’ll be when I’m ready. And if he starts seeing this other chick then good for him. He deserves happiness.”

Erin scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah sure.”

. . .

You didn’t realize how much it would affect you seeing Harry with someone else. The girl was cute. She was nice and her perfume smelled pleasant (which was good because you were very sensitive to smell as of late and most scents made you want to puke).

Harry had stopped by at Erin’s to drop off a few things he picked up for your upcoming baby shower while you were there and the girl was with him because they were on their way to a movie. A date.

The introduction was nice enough but you didn’t like it all. You hadn’t expected to feel the way you were. And it was your fault in a way. Maybe things would be different if you’d just told Harry already.

“How’s our baby, doing?” Harry put his palm on your stomach and you could have burst into tears. The “our” baby was innocent. Your tight-knit friend group all called the baby our baby, but somehow in that moment it just hit different.

Swallowing down your emotions you put on a smile, “It’s good! Super healthy. Just another month and a half and I’ll get to meet the baby. It’s gonna be big, though. Doctor says it might be close to 9 lbs.”

Harry blinked and slid his palm down the thin material of your flowy maternity shirt over the bump and looked at you as if he was trying to speak paragraphs to you in a glance, “Wow. That’s… big. And how’s the mommy? Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded and looked from the girl who was standing next to Harry looking at your massive tummy and then back up to Harry, “Feeling tired. And this thing is huge and heavy. But we’re healthy, so…” you shrugged and Harry removed his hand from your tummy but he kept his eyes on yours.

“I’m glad you’re healthy. That’s the most important thing. Oh, and here,” he walked toward the table where he placed the shopping bags and pulled out a box of your favorite pistachio and vanilla cookies from the bakery you loved. “Made an extra stop to pick these up for you.”

Erin and Harry’s girlfriend or whatever she was stood and watched as your eyes teared up and Harry handed you the small container. He had been nothing but sweet and helpful to you during your pregnancy and all the regret you already had about not telling him came pouring out of your eyes in that moment. It was ridiculous.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You still like these yeah?”

You nodded as Harry pulled you into his arms, though the big bump in your tummy made it hard to have a proper hug, “I’m fine. Just emotional some days. Thank you, Harry. This is so so kind of you.”

You hated that this chick Harry was with had seen that. Hated that you were so sensitive and that Harry was with someone else. Hated that you looked like a bloated beluga and that your thighs were aching for no fucking reason. You hated that despite the gross feeling in your gut you wanted to devour the cookies like a starved madwoman.

“You want me to stay? Want to talk?” His deep voice in your ear as he rubbed your back was calming. And if you were a sliver more selfish than you already were you’d say yes and have him stay with you and skip the date entirely and you’d revel in watching the disappointment on his date’s face when he told her he was choosing you over her. Even though she was nice, that would have still felt really good.

But you wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t interrupt Harry’s plans that way. Looking up at him you shook your head, “No. That’s okay.”

The look on his face slowly transitioned from strangely hopeful and soulful to something like defeat. Disheartened. You pulled at his hand and smiled before mouthing thank you.

When Harry and the girl left Erin sighed, “I don’t mean to be nosy or push you or make you feel like you’re doing something wrong but I really think you should tell him and do it soon. Did you see the way he was looking at you? Y/n… I know you saw that. He’d drop everything for you. He’d break up with that girl and I guarantee the moment you tell him it’s his he’d do anything. That man is smitten with you.”

You shook your head and took a bite of a cookie, “No he’s not. Look at me? I’m a mess. Everything is puffy, I can hardly move… look at this!” You lifted your hand up to show her your swollen fingers.

Erin laughed and pushed her fingers through yours, “Beautiful. You’re gorgeous. Glowing. An entire life is being grown right here,” she put her hand over your tummy, “And Harry Styles is in love with you all while thinking this baby is someone else’s. Mark my words, Y/n. The moment you tell him is the moment you’re gonna learn how far gone he is for you and how he’d do anything to make you happy.”

You laughed and shook your head but you did wonder. Because Harry had been a certain way with you since the day he learned you were pregnant. His doting and his gentleness were not something you could ignore.

. . .

The morning of the baby shower had been good. Your mother took you to get breakfast and you both walked together along the path near the lake for some exercise and fresh air. The only two people in the world who knew about Harry being the father were your mother and Erin. Your mother had met Harry before and she was quite fond of him. Everyone was fond of Harry, though.

“I just don’t understand why you haven’t told him, Y/n.”

“Well, it’s because I lied about it, Mom. I wasn’t thinking clearly at the beginning of the pregnancy. I don’t know if it was hormones or scrambled brains or what… Now I’m sort of regretting it but I’ll figure it out. He’ll know soon. I just need to figure out how to break it to him.”

“How to break it to him? Well, maybe something like… Hey, you. You knocked me up. This baby is actually yours and not Joe’s. Sorry for the inconvenience but that’s the deal.” Your mom laughed, mimicking your voice.

You laughed and shook your head, “Yeah it’ll probably be something like that. I just hate that I lied about it. Because I’m not a liar. I thought I was doing it to protect myself… I don’t even really know what I was thinking but I will tell him. Soon.”

When you arrived at your apartment most everyone was already there. Including Harry. The place was filled with little decorations and baby things. A table overflowing with presents and some sat on the floor next to the table. Another spot where there was food.

You didn’t know what the sex was going to be and didn’t want to know until the moment it was born so the decorations were neutral colors with a few splashes of blue and pink here and there. It was cute.

“There you are…” Harry swooped in and took the tray of goodies your mom was holding and he kissed her cheek, “Nice to see you! How have you been?”

You and your mother followed him to the kitchen, your mother giving you a knowing glance before she responded, “Just great. Everything is pretty much the same as it was since I last saw you, except now my baby is pregnant.”

Harry chuckled and once the tray was placed on the counter he draped his arm over your shoulder and hugged you, “And how are you?”

He always asked how you were. Always offered to help. Often would buy you random things he thought might make your pregnancy easier. Creams, pads for your back, nausea bands, teas…

“I’m good. Closer and closer. How are you, Harry?”

Soft pink lips turned up as he kept his sparkling green eyes on you, “Good. Happier now that you’re here.”

You rolled your eyes at him and just as you were about to retort Erin popped into the kitchen, “The lady of the hour! Come! I have to show you something!”

The baby shower was relatively fun. But it was tiring. It lasted longer than you had anticipated and you tried not to complain. Opening every present was a bore. A full-on snooze fest. Most things were just practical stuff you’d need. Lotions and powders, things to make bath time easier and safer, diapers, bottles, cleaning things for said bottles, a special baby food blender, onesies, socks, bibs, blankets… But you didn’t complain because you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

It was a sea of pastel yellow, green, creamy whites… The cake was good, though. And finally, when everyone started to leave you felt like you could breathe. Having a small apartment packed full of people felt like you were a zoo animal on display. But the remainder were welcome and you appreciated that some straggled behind to help clean up.

Your mother left once all the dishes were clean and put away and then it was just you, Erin, your roommate, Harry, and two others who were helping put things away so you didn’t have to lift a finger.

You were sitting on the couch with your legs propped up on a pillow when Harry sat down by your feet and pulled them into his lap.

“Hey!” You laughed and started to pull away from him but the moment his thumb mushed into the tender part of your sole you gave in and relaxed your limbs.

“That was easy. Thought you’d gripe a bit more. Feels good yeah?”

You nodded, “It does feel good, actually. My feet are so swollen, though. Sorry.”

Harry continued kneading at your feet, rubbing sore spots and you were working to hold back your moans, “Stop it. Your feet look fine. This is normal anyway isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah but still. Even my fingers are puffy,” you laughed.

Erin sat down on the chair near the TV and smirked at you, “Y/n doesn’t believe it when I tell her she’s glowing. She’s sexy as a pregnant woman isn’t she Har?”

You narrowed your gaze at Erin in warning.

Harry laughed, his eyes on yours, “I think she’s just as lovely as always. Pregnancy definitely suits her.”

Everyone else joined in the living room and you moved your feet from Harry with a quick thank you as you felt the baby kick. You put your hand on your tummy and gasped, “It’s kicking!”

“Can I touch?” Your roommate asked as she moved from her spot to make her way to you.

“Yeah. Go ahead,” you smiled and showed her where to put her hand. But there was no movement. You poked at the spot and groaned, “Ahhh… a tease, this one.”

Erin walked over and put her hand on your tummy. Nothing. The baby didn’t budge. It often did this. Whenever you’d feel it move it stopped moving for anyone else. Not even your own mother had the chance to feel the baby kick in your belly.

Your two other friends also tested their luck, “It’s always like this. I’m the only one who’s ever gotten to feel it kick. I don’t know what it is.”

“You try,” Erin looked at Harry as she backed away to sit.

Harry licked his lips, “I mean… only if it’s okay. I don’t want to–“

“It’s fine. If you want to it’s okay. Really. Probably won’t move but ya know. Why not?” You laughed.

Harry scooted himself across the couch to sit right next to you as he placed his hand over your tummy where you pointed.

“Hey there, little one. Uncle Harry is here saying hello,” you watched Harry as he spoke in a soft tone. His deep voice had your skin prickling and your heart rate increasing. No one else really spoke to the baby and somehow seeing Harry do it drew the smallest bit of emotion up in your chest as he looked into your eyes and slid his thumb next to yours.

But then it kicked. The baby kicked and kicked again. Harry laughed and placed his other palm over your tummy so he was holding you with both hands and the little sucker was doing acrobatics all of a sudden.

“It’s never done that…” you spoke as you laid your palm over the space, “For anyone but me.”

“It’s kicking for me,” he grinned and his eyes softened as he cooed in a hushed voice looking down at his hands, “Hey baby. We can’t wait to meet you.”

“Maybe it’s your voice,” you whispered and Harry looked like he was in awe. Eyes twinkling with emotion.

“I feel so special.”

“Can I try again?” Erin stood over you two. Harry moved his hands away and the moment her palm took over the place Harry’s was the baby stopped moving again.

You laughed and felt around, jabbing gently into your tummy, “I don’t know why it’s doing this. Come on little human. Kick for Erin…”

You caught Harry’s gaze on yours. He had a small smile on his mouth and his cheeks were flushed.

Erin shook her head, “Ahh it’s okay. Now’s not my time.”

“We should probably get going.” The pair who arrived together both stood and said their goodbyes. Harry got up and went into the kitchen as you walked your friends to the door and thanked them for their help.

“Go talk to him,” Erin whispered in your ear.

“What?” You scrunched your face in confusion.

“Harry. Go talk to him. He’s in the kitchen and I think he’s upset or something.”

“Why would he be upset?”

Erin raised her brows at you and looked toward the kitchen and mouthed, “Just go.”

Sighing you waddled toward the kitchen and noticed Harry had his palms flat on the countertop as he looked downward at the platter of cupcakes silently.

“Hey…” you gently put your hand on his tricep, “Are you okay?”

He looked down at you and nodded, “I’m fine. Just… needed a minute. Felt like it was nonstop today ya know?” He pushed himself from the counter and let out a forced laugh.

“Okay. You seemed upset just then. Wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it before he shook his head, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Oh!” You reached for his hand and pulled over your tummy again.

The kicking was nonstop as long as Harry’s hand was on your tummy, “Hi there. You wanted to say hello again, didn’t you? I am flattered you seem to like me so much. I’m your favorite, aren’t I? Your secret’s safe with me little one,” he bent closer to your tummy to speak to the baby.

If he didn’t give you butterflies before, well that whole exchange certainly did. You were aware your hormones were going bonkers too. Just seeing Harry had put you into overdrive, though no one would ever know it. Who knew pregnant women got so horny? Your doctor told you it could happen but looking at his big hands on your bump, the soft smile on his face, the look of something that could easily be mistaken for fondness in his eyes had your head spinning.

You laughed when Harry looked up at you and stood back to his full height, “What? Baby likes me more than the others. Pretty sure we’re gonna be best buds.”

A small breath fell from your lips at the thought. At Harry thinking it.

“I sure hope so. Just a little over a month. Doctor says could be sooner due to the size.”

“Yeah. You said on track to be a big baby,” he smiled and looked down at his hand on your bump and then back at you, “Will you…” he cleared his throat, “Please let me know if there’s anything you need or want. I can, you know, help. And… if you go into labor I’d like to know. I’m sure you already have a plan with your mother and Erin but…” he trailed off his words as you put your hand over his.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything. You’ve already been so helpful, Harry. I’m beyond grateful for you. And when I go into labor I’ll make sure someone calls you.”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

There was something about that moment. How tender and vulnerable it was. Your eyes locked and his hand on your tummy with the baby kicking inside. His baby. And it felt like he knew it too. Like he could see through your bullshit and he was just waiting for you to tell him the truth. Praying you’d spit it out once and for all.

And that had stuck with you. The moment the baby had kicked for him was like a signal for you. Some kind of omen or something (not that you believed in those kinds of things). It was time to tell him.

“You wanna come over tomorrow and help me set up the crib?”

. . .

You slept like shit. Which wasn’t too outside of the norm since Harry’d gotten you knocked up. His massive baby was pushing on all your organs and made it hard to get comfortable in bed at night. And just when you’d start to doze off you’d need to pee or there was a sharp pain or your leg would cramp up.

In short, by the time Harry arrived the following day to help you set up the crib, you were in a terrible mood. You were still going to tell him the truth but you were unsure of how it would all go down now that your mood was spoiled. Where you’d been so hopeful before, now you were doubtful. What if he was repulsed?

You had wanted time alone with him. Your roommate was out so it would be perfect. It felt like it would be better to tell him when no one else was around.

He brought croissants and jam and your favorite cookies. The moment you saw him with the bakery box in hand and a warm smile on his pink lips your bad mood was suddenly lifted slightly. Just the sight of him was a breath of fresh air.

When he sat the box down he pulled you in for a hug and kissed your forehead, “How are you feeling today?”

You rolled your eyes because he was too perfect. Too sweet.

“I’m… well, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much. This thing makes it hard to get comfortable and my back aches. But… we’ll survive.” You laughed it off.

Harry’s brows pinched together, “Okay. Let’s get you off your feet then. Here,” he pulled you into your bedroom where the unopened crib box was sitting. He gestured for you to sit down on your bed, “Sit.” He helped you scoot into the headboard and stuffed a pillow behind your back before he turned, “Let me grab the box in the kitchen.”

You watched him quickly exit your room and looked around yourself. He had no idea what kind of bomb you were about to drop on him. Your nerves were all over the place. You were sure that was part of why you didn’t sleep well the night before. You couldn’t put all the blame on Harry’s baby.

When he returned to the room with the pastry box and two plates, “Cookie first? Or croissant with jam?”

“Mmm…” you looked into the box, “… cookie I think first.”

“Cookie for mama… here you go,” he handed you a plate with a cookie and you huffed a laugh. God, just hearing him say that had your toes tingling.

Harry began to remove the parts from the box and handed you the instructions to read over, “Okay. Read to me what I need to do first.” He took a bite of a croissant.

“Attach small end panels A to posts D with lock washers and connector bolts. Here,” you turned it so he could see the figure in the picture with the parts and he began to put sections together as you read off the instructions.

You wound up getting up to help him even though he told you to stay put. You insisted anyway and handed him the small tools as you read the directions.

“This is so much more work than I thought it’d be,” he laughed as he tilted the nearly put-together crib upright.

You covered your mouth and looked at its frame. It was almost as if none of what was happening was real until you saw the crib there, at the foot of your bed with Harry’s hand on one of the corner posts.

He reached out to rub your arm, “You okay?”

Once again, your emotions and hormones were wrecking you. You sat down and Harry sat next to you.

Sniffing you nodded and laughed, “I’m okay. I just can’t believe there’s a crib in my room for a baby who’s going to be here sooner than I’m ready for.”

“I know it’s wild. I never really imagined what it’d be like to put a crib together before.”

You smiled sheepishly and looked down at your tummy. You wondered if the correlation between Harry being near you and making your heart race had something to do with the baby always kicking only for him. Especially when you looked into his eyes and he was looking at you like that.

“So, uh…” you laughed, “You still seeing that one girl from work?”

Harry cocked his head and looked at you with an amused smile, “Maybe. Why? You never once asked about girls I’m dating before.”

“Oh… I was just curious. You don’t have to answer or anything,” you frowned and moved to stand but your movement lacked grace and you only fell back into the bed and Harry put his hand on your back.

“I was teasing. You can ask me anything, Y/n. But it’s just casual. Haven’t been out with her in a couple weeks. Might not see her again outside of work.”

“Why not? She seemed really nice,” you were thrilled by the news but tried not to let just how thrilled you were show.

Harry laughed through his nose as he kept his eyes on yours, “Just cause. Kind of felt like I was leading her on a little. Never really was that into her.”

You nodded and pursed your lips to act casual but Harry’s hand was still on your back and your roommate was coming home soon and you needed to tell him. It felt like your room was closing in around you. It was time.

You inhaled deeply and swallowed, “Um… I need to tell you something. It’s kind of big and…” another deep breath and the feel of Harry’s hand soothingly rubbing your back that felt like he already knew what you were going to say as if he were coaxing it out of you gently. “Uh…”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

You smiled at him before closing your eyes and blurting out the words, “Joe’s not the father.”

Harry’s soft caresses slowed down as he pushed his hand upward to your shoulder, “I kind of had a feeling it wasn’t his.”

Popping your eyes open you looked at Harry, “You… didn’t think it was Joe’s?”

Harry shook his head, “Felt like you weren’t telling me everything. Are you gonna tell me who the father is then?” He raised his brows. He knew. He already knew. But he needed you to say it. To tell him. You could see it in his expression that he knew.

“Well, that kind of just leaves one person, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You tell me, Y/n.” He wasn’t going to make this easy but of course you deserved that.

Pushing out a breath you nodded and put your hand on your tummy, “It’s… you.”

Harry nodded his head as he kept his eyes on yours. You swallowed thickly when he removed his hand from your shoulder and stood up before running his fingers into his hair and began to laugh.

You didn’t know what was going through his head but his reaction was… well it wasn’t what you imagined and now you were wondering if you should have just kept it all in. Never told him or anyone the truth. Because letting another full human being into the mix was daunting. Harry had his own life and hobbies and he was dating and he was in the process of looking for a house to buy and he’d recently talked about getting a dog…

You started to spiral in your thoughts, regretting that you told him at all. Feeling like you’d just made a grave error when you felt Harry’s arm slide behind your back, “Hey… come on. Don’t cry…”

It hadn’t even dawned on you that you were crying. You were too overwhelmed by the feeling of rejection and embarrassment to take note that tears were pouring out of your eyes.

“Sorry!” You squeaked and hid your face in your arm, turning away from him.

Harry pulled you in closer and smushed his lips to your temple, “Shh…”

You gasped to catch your breath and felt the warm singe of embarrassment still frothing over your skin. The tears weren’t helping anything because now you just looked like a lunatic. Unable to form words or look him in the eyes. You’d even put on mascara before he came over so you’d look cuter when you told him he was the baby daddy.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he spoke against your hair and ran his hand up and down your arm gently.

You laughed and buried your face into his clavicle.

“Can I tell you something, Y/n?”

You nodded, and a muffled okay came from your mouth as you kept your face tucked away.

“Can you look at me first?”

“Harry my face is gross. You don’t want to see this…”

“Nothing about you is gross. You’re breathtaking. Please look at me.”

Another puffed laugh fell from your mouth. Breathtaking. That was a bit of an exaggeration.

You slowly pulled your face away from his chest and tilted your head up to look at him. The grin on his face stretched upward and he ran his thumbs under your eyes, “Look at you. Nothing gross here. Bit of makeup down the face. You don’t need this stuff anyway,” he wiped the smudged mascara and you brought a hand up to wipe with him.

“Sorry… I should know better than to put mascara on these days. Everything makes me cry,” you ran your fingers under the delicate skin of your eyes as Harry continued wiping at your cheeks.

“It’s an emotional thing. All this. Good to get a cry in here and there.”

You laughed and sniffled. Harry didn’t let his pupils stray from yours.

“So, listen…” he inhaled, “I want to be with you. I have wanted that. When I learned you and Joe broke up I thought that was my chance. But then we slept together and I thought you regretted it. You kind of acted funny around me for a bit after that so I backed off. But really, I wanted to scoop you up and make you mine. Figured maybe you just needed time to get over Joe.”

You were stunned. You blinked your eyes and shook your head, “You… I thought…” A breath fell from your lips.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me like that. But I do want to be part of this,” he placed his hand on your pregnant belly, “This is ours. I want to help. I want to do everything I can to be there for you.”

“You want to be with me? Like…” You blinked in disbelief.

“Yes. Like I’m in love with you.”

He’d just blurted it out so casually. As if you weren’t in a delicate state and that sentence couldn’t send you to your grave. As if those words wouldn’t have your head spinning and your heart raging behind your ribcage. As if him loving you was the most obvious thing.

“Wha– you… I’m surprised. I… love?”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should have waited for that one. But you did just tell me I’m the dad so… call it even,” he laughed.

“You’re laughing? Harry… this is…” you started to tear up again as you pushed at his chest. He’d waited all this time to admit he was in love with you and somehow it just seemed unfair, “You should have told me. This would have all been so different.”

“And you should have told me, Y/n. I could have been here with you. Could have driven you to every appointment and we could like… talk about everything and… be together. If you even want that.”

He was right of course. If you’d just told him sooner maybe everything would have fallen into place. Maybe it would’ve been easier.

“Well, what do you think?”

“You’re right. I should have told you much sooner. So this is my fault. I’m… I just didn’t expect you to tell me you love me.”

Harry folded his big palm over your hand and pulled your fingers between his, “I tried doing everything I could to make it obvious to you. I’m still wondering what you think about it, though.”

“It’s... I really like you. I haven’t thought about it too deeply, though. I didn’t want to focus on you too much because you were dating that girl and–“

“Forget about her. Took her to one movie. Went out to lunch twice. Not so much as a peck on the cheek. Would’ve flaked on our date had you told me to stay that one day. Remember that?”

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah. I do.”

“So tell me what you think. Just be honest. I can handle it. I’m a big boy, Y/n.”

You forced air through your nose, “Okay. I like you. I think it would be nice to be in a relationship with you and do this together. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s in the past. So, you wanna be with me?”

You nodded. It all didn’t feel real. Harry was this gorgeous man, the whole package with his shit together while you were a swollen, hormonal, puffy-faced girl who had no idea what she was doing.

“Good. Now, I promise I’ll finish the crib but can I kiss you? Want to kiss you so bad.”

You sputtered out a laughed yes and rolled your eyes but Harry slid his hand to the back of your head and cut off your exasperated laugh with his mouth over yours. And all the apprehension and uncertainty, the disbelief and the worry melted away as his lips smushed against yours.

And as it was, you were already halfway there – to horny. Lately, that’s just how you were; Always at the tip of horny and tired. But when his tongue slipped into the seam of your lips your response was to push your tongue against his and place your fingers through his hair, nudging yourself closer.

You didn’t stop there, though. Your other hand found his thigh and you flexed your fingers over the dense muscle. The memory of the night you slept together came rushing back. His body was solid and broad and no matter where you touched him it lit your fingertips like flint.

He placed his hand over yours and pulled your fingers upward, “Y/n…” he breathed your name as if he needed to hear it spoken out loud again. It was desperate. Starved. The man was starved. You wondered if the last time he had sex was with you. Selfishly you hoped it was. And selfishly you hoped he’d want to fuck you again.

You felt his hand on your jaw and then his thumb press into your cheekbone, “I missed this mouth, Y/n. I need you…”

He drew his mouth down to your neck and you felt him tongue at your pulse point. A shattered moan escaped your throat when he collared one side of your neck with his big palm and continued brushing his lips on the other.

“I need you too, Harry…” The sentence drizzled into the air like a steamy mist. And then his hand was on your breasts. Your very tender and achy breasts, “Oh god!”

Harry parted from your neck, “Are you okay?”

“I’m… god I’m just…” you didn’t want to say it but you needed it. Needed him. Craved him, “Really, really turned on. It’s been like this for a bit. It’s my hormones.”

Harry pushed a laugh through his nostrils, his heavy gaze dropped to your blouse-covered breasts and then back to your eyes, “Hormones? Is there anything I can do to help with that problem?”

His question was cheeky. The edge of his lips flitted upward teasingly and you laughed, “Yeah. I think you can help.”

Harry licked his lips and pressed his nose against yours, “Tell me what I can do. What do you need?”

His breath was humid against your mouth as you reached for him with puckered lips, an attempt to just get back to it but he backed away from you, dimples carving into his cheeks, “Ah ah ah… I asked you what you needed, Y/n. What’s gonna make you feel good?” His fingers trailed down over the fabric on your blouse.

“I want to have sex. You’re the only man who’s ever made me come and I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Really? No one else has ever made you come before?”

You shook your head, “No one else.”

A sudden visage of something like pride and plume took over his face, “And you want that again, do you? Want me to make you come, Y/n?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s hands were gentle as he pulled you back into his arms and smeared his mouth over yours until you found yourself lying on your side facing Harry with his hands on your round belly, “This is mine? I did this to you?”

“Yep. Got me knocked up on the first try,” you splayed your hands over his as he brought them down to the stretchy hem of your blouse and bunched at the material to move it out of his way and expose your tummy.

“It’s not cute. I’m sorry,” you watched as your shirt was lifted and Harry was confronted with the sight of skin stretched tight over your belly.

Dragging his fingers over your bump and to your tits he shushed you, “So cute. The cutest. That’s my baby in there. And you’re so sexy like this.”

He sat up to his knees and helped you out of your top, revealing the thick strapped greige maternity bra that fully covered every inch of your breasts. With his eyes on yours, he reached around to your back to unhook the tiny metal clasps until your straps shimmied free.

His lips parted as he peeled the fabric away from your engorged tits, “Oh fuck, baby…” He pawed at them and softly kneaded in his palms over the flesh, “Feels okay? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yes. It feels so good with your hands on me.”

He moaned as his pupils roved every inch of your skin, dipping down to pull his tongue over and around your nipples only stopping to softly suck before his plush lips feathered kisses down your torso and the sides of your belly.

His fingers slid into the waistband of your pants, “Taking these off, all right?” He peered up at you.

Your chest was already heaving as if you were in the middle of being fucked and you nodded, “Okay.”

The nice thing about maternity wear was that it was easy to remove. Harry got you out of your cotton and lycra pants before you had time to feel shy about letting him see the kind of mess you’d made of your panties. Also greige like your bra.

“And clearly we need to get you out of these things too, Y/n,” he tutted as he cupped the meatiest part of your hips with his palms, “Don’t we?”

You giggled and nodded, “I know it’s a mess. I just can’t help it. The doctor said it’s normal to be like this.”

“Poor thing,” he looked down at the wet stain at the front of your panties, “Could’ve been taking such good care of you all this time.”

You felt your panties slip down your hips before cool air hit your wet pussy and you closed your eyes, “Sorry. Haven’t shaved down there or anything since… well…”

Harry’s graveled moan was accompanied by the feel of his hands on the insides of your knees as he pushed you open, “It’s beautiful.”

You opened your eyes to look down at him between your legs and his dark pupils were already on yours, “Really?”

“Really. Everything about you is so…” he smoothed his palms up the insides of your thighs from your knees and then paused, “I forgot. It’s not good for you to be on your back too long. Isn’t that right?”

You laughed and pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah. That’s true. Did you read that somewhere?”

He nodded, “Not ashamed to admit I did in fact read that somewhere. So, would you like me to eat you out? And if so,” he teased his fingertips into your thighs, “What’s most comfortable for you?”

“I mean, yeah I’d like that but… truly unnecessary given the state I’m in.”

“The state you’re in? You mean pregnant?”

You chuckled, “I mean given how horny I am. I’m just saying you don’t need to prep me or anything.”

“Oh, I can see you need no prepping. It’s not so much about that as it is just making you feel good. Get comfy. I’m gonna lick your pussy.”

Another laugh fell from your chest when you heard the front door to your apartment close. Esie was home.

Harry clambered off the bed and shut your door in haste, “Fuck. I didn’t know she was coming back so soon.”

You scooted yourself back into your pillows, “We’ll just keep it quiet. But I do have one request.”

He raised a brow at you as he returned to your bed placing one knee on the pillowtop mattress with his palms down as he awaited your request.

“Can you take your shirt and pants off? I feel really… on display like this while you’re fully dressed.”

Harry grinned and pushed himself back to plant both feet onto the floor as he pulled his shirt off and then worked at his jeans, bringing them down his legs. You didn’t care that Esie was home. You needed to be fucked. You needed Harry. And the more skin and ink he revealed the more your mouth watered.

Just like 8 months before, he was an impressive sight. All tall and lean muscle (but kind of soft in some spots), inky drawings over long, well-thewed arms, and a broad torso with pecs you could bite into.

He climbed back into bed with you, quickly invading your space with the expanse of his body swathing over you like a mantle before he brought his hands to cradle your face and pressed his lips against yours.

He lowered his palms and groped at your tits, a bit rougher this time, but it only elicited a lewd mewl from your throat. Sensitive as they might be, having Harry touch you at all could only be a good thing.

“You like that, do you?” Harry spoke against your lips with a jesting tone.

You responded with a squeaky bleat to the affirmative when you felt him put pressure on your nipple, smushing it just between his thumb and middle finger.

He licked up from your bottom lip and ran his tongue over yours when you felt his fingers reaching for your other nipple.

Two loud knocks on your door startled you both, “Hey I’m home! Just letting you know!”

“Okay, thanks, Esie!” You and Harry quietly laughed as he put his palms on your knees.

“Do you think she was just telling you she was home, or reminding you to keep it down in here because she could hear us?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean… I doubt she thinks I have a guy in my bed right now. Much less it being you.”

Harry’s grin softened and he resumed from where you left off before Esie interrupted, this time his lips started at your neck. You relaxed back into the pile of pillows as you watched Harry slowly move further away until he was mouthing at your hips and peering up at you.

But then you felt his finger. It was just one but you felt it tickle at your crease. He ran it lightly along the seam of your pussy up and down before finally dredging in, parting your labia, and slicking it through your pussylips, completely wetting his finger.

Harry kissed at your mons and the curve of where your belly began to extend upward before bringing his lips back down closer to your throbbing clit but not quite there.

When he circled his finger at your slick entrance you rocked your hips, needing to feel his finger pushing inside of you. He kissed your skin at the apex of your thigh with a smacking sound and then finally thrust in, reaching through your insides and then pulled back, hooking his finger upward so it bumped into your spongy g-spot.

But the moment you felt his warm mouth kiss your clit and then tongue all around the tender and needy nub you gasped and reached down to put a hand in his hair, “Yess…”

Harry was surprised by how turned on you were. Slippery and puffy and he’d hardly touched you. But he’d read about how some pregnant women can be very horny until the end of the pregnancy. Ever since the day he learned you were pregnant, even though you told him it wasn’t his, he still learned what he could. Everything from how the body changes and what you might be going through and feeling, to nutritional needs, as well as the best sex positions (he was just a man after all). He never knew most of the things he learned and he was glad for it now that he was getting to have you again.

He wished you’d have told him, though. Wished he could have been there for you emotionally and physically… whatever you needed he’d have done it. But god it would have been so sweet to have been able to call you his girlfriend and show you off to everyone then take you home and fuck your horny little pussy every night.

No need to dwell on the past, though. He was absolutely over the moon that you finally told him and that his suspicions were correct. He was ecstatic you wanted to be with him so he’d make the most of it.

And the small squeaks and pants you were making as he fingered and sucked your clit were all good sounds. Hot. You were hot. So fucking sexy. He really loved how needy you were too. As big as your tummy was, you were grinding your hips down over his finger and lifting into him.

He couldn’t see your face from his spot but your fingers in his hair and the quiver of your thigh told him all he needed to know.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, quiet as you could, “Ohhh… shitshitshit!”

Your pussy pulsed and squeezed at his finger as you began to come. You draped your free arm over your mouth to cover up the gasps and hitched breaths as much as you could.

He’d never in his life made anyone come so fast. He had hardly gotten himself warmed up but there you were, shaking and sighing as you orgasmed into his mouth and around his finger.

When you began to close your thighs around his head and roll to your side to escape his mouth he pulled his finger from your pussy and gripped onto your hips to keep you still so you didn’t fling yourself off the bed.

He sat up and looked you over, smoothing his hands over your arms and to your tummy, “That feel good?”

You laughed and nodded, “Umm. Yeah, I’d say that felt good.”

Harry leaned down and peppered kisses to your tummy and pushed you to your side before he tucked himself behind you and pulled your back to his chest where he began to smush wet kisses to your neck, “You came so fast. You’re so sensitive, Y/n.”

“Mmmm…” you closed your eyes and then felt the bulk of his cock pressing into your backside. He was still wearing his boxer briefs. You pushed your ass back against him and heard a lusty moan vibrating over your ear.

You wanted more, unsurprisingly. Every time you masturbated lately it was two or three orgasms per go, which had never been the case before you got pregnant.

Harry rutted into you, his cock solid and aching. He hadn’t had sex with anyone since you and now he was desperate to get his cock wet. Desperate for you. No one else did it for him after you.

“Getting my underwear all wet,” he breathed his words between kisses and rocks of his hips, “You need some more, Y/n?”

Harry’s hands were cradling your tummy and rubbing at your tits as he humped against you and you nodded into your pillows, “I need more. Want you inside of me.”

Music to his ears. “Yeah? Need so much from me, don’t you? Need my baby in your womb, and my cock deep inside at the same time?”

“Fuck… yes I do…”

Harry leveraged himself up by one arm and pulled his underwear down his legs as fast as he could manage. His cock was throbbing and weeping at the tip already. He hoped he didn’t disappoint this time around because he was certain he wasn’t going to last long.

You turned to watch him and reached down behind you to wrap your fingers around his cock as he settled back onto his side. You felt the dribble of precome at his slit and spread it down his cock slowly, “I just wanna make sure… I know we slept together without a condom once but, like… I don’t know if you were sleeping with anyone else or–“

“You’re the last person I slept with. But we can–“

You moaned, cutting off the rest of his statement where he was about to suggest a condom, “Oh good. Just fuck me then.”

Angling his thick cock to your entrance you raised your hip to guide him in and with an easy thrust forward he spread your pussy apart and drove into you languidly. You both moaned in relief. You kept yourself turned to look at him as he entered you until he was pasted against your ass.

When he reared back and pushed in you laid your head down on the pillow. Every inch of him getting stuffed into you was filthy and wet sounding.

Harry kept a slow pace as he buried himself in and pulled back before thrusting into your sloppy wet hole. His balls were already squeezing as he rocked into you, “Pussy feels so good, Y/n. Fuck baby…”

You slid your fingers over your clit and buried your face into the pillow as you moaned his name. He could hear your muffled noises and he leaned back so he could see as he split you apart on his cock.

Everything was wet between your legs as he watched himself slide in and out, his cock coated in your cream already. Sloppy thrust after sloppy wet thrust. He dragged his thumb over the space of your pussy where you were gripping around him as he rolled into you, feeling the way you stretched for him.

You felt the liquidy heat of your orgasm slowly seeping through your nerves and your organs with every slick plunge of his cock. He filled up the space of your pussy just right, every stroke of him through your aching core glided against all your secret little crevices, bumping your g-spot and slithering through to your guts.

You’d done well to keep quiet as quiet as you were. You’d gotten good at quietly coming over the years of having a roommate. But Harry was testing this skill of yours.

“Wrapped around my cock like you needed it, baby. Listen to how creamy you are,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth before continuing to whisper into your ear, “All for me. Gonna make you come as many times as you want. Buy you a house where we can raise our little family together. Fuck all my babies into you…”

Harry didn’t know exactly what he was saying. He was delirious; holding back his orgasm as he felt you trembling around him. He grunted as he continued, “Gonna keep you satisfied, take care of you and our baby. Protect you…”

His words weren’t all that filthy. Not as filthy as they could have been but somehow the talk of raising a family with him and protecting you pushed you off the precipice and over the edge. You bit your lip and your whole body trembled as you hastened your fingers on your clit.

“Shit… holy shit…” Harry breathed out when he felt you coming around him and practically convulsing in his arms. You moaned as quietly as you could but his hips were slapping into your ass as he fucked you through your release.

You’d never come so hard in your life. You were sure it was because you were having actual sex with a man you’d wanted for so long all while your hormones were going haywire. Your pussy pulsed and fluttered, clenching on Harry’s cock as he squeezed his eyes closed and choked out a gasp, gluing his hips to your bum, grinding in and began to pump his come into your cunt.

He thought he could wait until you were done but you kept coming and shaking, your pussy vibrating over him like a siphon trying to milk him. He couldn’t resist, “Fuck!”

His cock throbbed violently inside of your warm channel as he emptied every drop of himself into you, holding you close as he rutted inward, dredging his cock as deep into your pussy as it could go.

He felt your hand reach over his forearm and rub as he opened his eyes and caught his breath. You were sweaty and gorgeous lying on your side all fucked out with your eyes closed and a satisfied smile on your lips. He kissed your cheek and squeezed your bum in his palm.

“I love you, Harry.” You whispered.

You’d said it back, finally. Harry leaned over to see your face, “Say it again?”

Opening your eyes you sighed and turned your head to look up at him, “I love you.”

Harry tilted your chin toward him and kissed your lips softly, “I love you, Y/n.”

It would have been bliss to have just stayed like that in Harry’s arms, with his soft pink lips dragging over your skin all night. Perhaps another round even. But there was the matter of the unfinished crib and your roommate, Esie who was about to find out about you and Harry.

“Promised you I’d finish the crib before I left,” he pecked at your cheek and sat up.

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

“You sure? That means Esie’s gonna know.” He grinned.

“I’m positive. I think it’s about time everyone knows.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.

. . .

Watching Harry holding your baby was like something out of a dream. He was standing, cradling her little head with his big palm and kissing her soft peach fuzz forehead between whispered words you couldn’t hear.

When he finally turned to set his eyes on you the look on his face was unlike anything you’d ever seen from him before. It was awe and love and overwhelm and joy all wrapped up in his eyes.

“I love her so much. And I love you. I can’t even describe–“ he blinked the tears from his eyes as his lip quivered and you reached out toward them.

“Come here. Sit with me.” You beckoned.

Harry sat next to you on the hospital bed and situated the little one into the crook of his arm between you two. You reached up and ran your fingers into his curls, “I love you, Harry. I’m so happy. Both of you make me happier than I’ve ever been. I’m glad we ended up together.”

Harry leaned in, carefully so as not to smush the precious life in his arms, and gave you a chaste kiss, “Me too, Y/n. I can’t believe how perfect she is. How amazing you are. I’m just blown away right now.”

You breathed out a laugh as you both stared down at the life you two had created. A beautiful sleeping bundle and she was all yours. All his. When her little lips stressed open and she let out the tiniest crackle of a yawn your heart felt like it was going to rupture from being so full of love.

“She’s beautiful, Harry. Look at her.”

“I know. I can’t take my eyes off her.”

You were exhausted but flying. Every kind of happy chemical; oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins were all flowing through your veins unencumbered. The labor was a difficult one, though. Harry’s baby was big. She came out at just under 9 lbs and you learned that Harry was a big baby as well. You cursed him a few times but after everything was said and done you couldn’t have been happier.

You fluttered your gaze from the man holding your child to the sweet little thing in his arms over and over. Your little family, all whole and healthy and happy.

“You should get something to eat, Harry. You haven’t eaten.”

He looked at you, those starry green eyes that could melt you right into your bed, “You just want to be alone with her don’t you?”

Shaking your head you laughed, “I mean that’s really not the motivation. I was just thinking about how we’re all healthy and it’s the most wonderful thing. But you haven’t eaten. I haven’t seen you eat anything since before I went into labor. It’s been like a whole day, more than a whole day, Harry. And while I scarfed down my jello and the little protein drink you were holding her and you haven’t left my side so you have to be hungry.”

“I am a little. I don’t want to leave, though. I feel like I have to be here in case anything happens…”

Cupping his cheek you shook your head, “Nothing will happen to us. The cafeteria is still open. You can get something and bring it up here. My mom won’t be back for another hour or so. Just grab a snack even. I need you healthy.”

Harry leaned into your palm and closed his eyes, “Okay.”

He placed your daughter into your arms and kissed your forehead as he gently caressed her cheek, “I’ve got the two most beautiful girls in the world. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“I think you’re just as emotional as I am right now,” you laughed. “Now. Let me have a minute alone with my daughter while you grab a quick snack.”

“Okay, Mom. You’re the boss.”

You took his hand, “Hurry back, Dad.”

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[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don���t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”

[verstappen-cult]

Could I request a lestappen x reader fic where she finds out she’s pregnant and is worried to tell them because she thinks theyll be mad or upset about it but theyre over the moon happy about it!

A tear falls down your face and lands on your lap. You are trying to think about how to tell Max and Charles the news. You’ve put yourself in every scenario, but every single one of them ends with them leaving you.

The front door being opened startles you.

“Honey, we’re home!” Charles says and giggles, Max joining his boyfriend.

You wipe your tears in record time.

They know something is wrong when you won’t meet their eyes as soon as they enter the room.

Max calls your name and you’re forced to look up at them, plastering a smile. “How was padel?”

“Something happened?” Max touches your face and body, searching for an injury. But he doesn’t find anything wrong.

“What’s — ” Charles swallows, green eyes fixed on the pregnancy test by your side. “What’s that?”

You start crying again. That wasn’t how you wanted them to find out.

“I’m so sorry,” You sob, hiding behind your hands but two warm and soft hands pull them away.

Charles and Max are kneeled in front of you, both of them with tears in his eyes.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Max asks softly, rubbing the back of your hand. “Aren’t you happy?”

You look at him for a second, then at Charles, but not a word is spoken; they just wait for you to be ready.

“I don’t want to have it.” It’s the first thing that leaves your lips for what feels like hours. “I don’t want this baby to come between us and your jobs and ev—”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Charles sits by your side and places a comforting hand in the back of your head.

“I’m sorry. I really am sorry.” You wipe away the tears that don’t stop falling from your eyes.

Max shakes his head, a few tears streaming down his face. “You don’t need to be sorry, okay? There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He kisses your hands.

“Is that why you don’t want to have the baby?” Your Monégasque boyfriend asks, frowning. “Do you want to have it?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“But it does matter!” They say at the same time and you fight back the urge to start crying again.

“If you’re thinking about not having this baby for fear that is gonna come between us, you’re wrong.” Max stands up and starts walking around the room, hands on his hips. “I love you, baby. But you’re not doing us any favor.”

“What do you mean?” You look at him from beneath your wet eyelashes.

Charles cups your cheek, making you look at him. “It means that if you want to have this baby, we will be more than happy. And if you really don’t want to — then we will respect your decision.”

“Whatever you decide,” Max nods, a little smile on his lips. “But don’t make a decision based on what you think is best for me and Charles.”

“I — I want to have the baby.” You smile. The first real smile since you found out you’re pregnant. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would we be mad?” Charles genuinely asks.

Max snorts, “I’m trying really hard to stay calm. But I want to tell the whole world about it.”

You giggle, cheeks heating up. It’s incredible how you can go from being sad and anxious to happy and relieved in just a few minutes.

“I think we should wait a few weeks to tell the news.” Your boyfriends’ faces light up, two big and bright smiles directed at you. “We need to go to the doctor first and make sure everything is okay.”

Max starts crying again while Charles takes you in his arms and spins you around.

That night the three of you go to bed very tired after spending the day looking for baby names and bigger houses on the market, because according to your boyfriends: ‘we’re not stopping at one.’

[cyber333angel]

thinking about logan wanting to blow off some steam and coming home to you being bratty which really just sets him off… logan coming home from work and your immediately just chatting away— yelling at him about something that happened today that didn’t even have anything to do with him, and he just grabs you by the waist hoisting you up so your on his shoulder. just stomping into your shared bedroom as you hit at his back yelling, “this is all your fault! you never listen to me, put me down logan!” your honestly just saying anything, not knowing where to direct your emotions so when he came home you decided to place it on him and logan wasn’t having that. your thrown onto the bed suddenly, logan going on the other side of the bed as your back faces him. he pulls you down on your back leaving you confused, your looking up at him with a very agitated look on his face just unbuckling his jeans. you go to get up from the bed and he just holds your shoulders down with a stern, “stay fuckin still.” and you lay back down. he just mumbles and grumbles little nothings as his dick pops out of his boxers, rubbing it till it’s fully hard. “shouting at me as soon as I get home..” he says as he opens your mouth, sticking two fingers in letting you suck on them, and he sighs as he takes them out placing his cock on your bottom lip, prodding at it a bit. without warning he shoves it in, your eyes immediately watering as you grab onto anything around you, the sheets, his thigh. “oh fuck.” he says throwing his head back, taking your head and thrusting in and out. he can even see the print of his dick in your throat as he uses you, “just needed me to plug that bratty fuckin mouth of yours huh..shit..” the feeling of his cock shoved down your throat felt like you couldn’t breathe, thick length just taking up all the space blocking your mind from any thoughts. you remember what he told you before about breathing through your nose and that helps you calm down. “atta girl, there you fucking go..” you get the hang of it more as your gurgle his cock in your mouth, feeling yourself get wet between your legs. you rub your thighs together as a relief, logan seeing it spreads your legs apart, sliding your soaked panties to the side. he dips his fingers into your heat making you squirm around, tapping at his thighs from the overstimulation. logan thrusts deeper into your throat and feels himself cumming, the tight slick space of your mouth just feeling so good to him. “you gonna let daddy make a mess in this pretty fuckin mouth?” if you could nod you would, but at the moment your mind was filled with the pleasure that was going on between your legs and how stuffed your mouth was. logan rubs a few more circles around your clit and you feel it — it makes your body arch off the bed, legs twitching around the covers as you come down from your high. “fuck..” next thing you know your mouth is being filled to the brim, logan spilling all his cum deep in your throat, groaning and basically growling above you. he slides his dick out your mouth, a bitter taste left in your mouth as you cough catching your breath from your mouth being used. he picks up your head to face him, looking at him with half lidded eyes logan strokes your head. “you gonna tell me what happened today like a big girl or keep acting like a brat? hm, tell me and ill fix it bub.” the reassurance makes you realize how you acted out towards him, yelling at him over something he didn’t even do when he just came home from work, you feel sorry. “m’sorry logan, I didn’t mean to take my anger out on you. after you left this morning for work everything just kept going wrong, nd I didn’t know how to deal with it..” he knows your sorry, pulling you into his lap as he hugs you telling you that it’s okay.

[bakugoushotwife]

a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!

warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.

summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!

it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 

satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 

he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 

he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?

that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 

this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.

your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 

“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 

“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 

you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 

but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 

“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 

“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 

“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 

“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 

he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 

you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 

“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 

“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 

he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 

“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 

“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 

“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 

you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 

“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 

no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 

“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 

“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 

“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 

you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”

“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 

your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 

“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 

but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 

you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 

though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.

his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 

“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 

“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 

in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 

“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 

your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 

you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 

“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 

“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 

your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”

“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 

“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 

“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 

“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 

your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 

you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife.