fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni)
tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.
word count: 5.7k
a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!
Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be.
Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all.
Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.
You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not.
However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide.
And then he was free.
From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished.
But he was free.
And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened.
Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break.
"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.
"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."
"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.
Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met.
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again.
"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"
"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit.
"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"
"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"
"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."
"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."
To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was.
Right now, you learned you wouldn't be.
There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry.
Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming.
"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened.
"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"
Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."
"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."
"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped.
"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."
"Oh."
Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.
"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."
"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."
"I think I want to."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."
"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."
"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed.
"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."
"Do you want to hurt me?"
"No."
"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."
"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."
"Not funny."
"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again.
"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more.
"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."
"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him.
"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"
You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more.
You couldn't complain.
It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch.
"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body.
"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later.
"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind.
"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you.
"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin.
"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered.
"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."
"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."
"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.
You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.
Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously.
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.
"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face.
"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."
"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up.
"Nope. Forget I said anything."
"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."
"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away.
"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."
"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."
"Yes, but how?"
"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."
"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again.
"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up.
"Lots of people say oral," he defended.
"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."
"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head."
Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping.
Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."
"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping.
"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so.
He nipped at your nose. "It is."
"Can we compromise?"
"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose.
In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests.
"Head," you corrected. "And no."
He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"
"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter.
"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."
You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."
"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"
"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him.
"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him.
Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.
Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have.
Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded.
A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone.
The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat.
He liked to hear you.
Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).
"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either.
"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"
"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"
"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face.
"What? Why?"
"Do I need a reason?"
You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest.
"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"
"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."
"I know," you replied.
"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."
You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."
"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."
Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."
"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?"
Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body.
"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.
"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.
You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time.
And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make.
Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.
Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit.
"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin.
"Touch myself?"
"Mhm."
"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."
"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"
"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."
"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"
You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again.
"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head.
He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again.
"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you.
"Hm?"
Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.
"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you.
In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could.
So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more.
Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it.
"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin.
A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.
Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't.
Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling.
Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome.
"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were.
"Please don't stop."
"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to.
Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating.
His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered.
The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after.
His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after.
"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck.
"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter.
"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again.
"Yes."
"Good."
Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there.
"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips.
"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking.
A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here.
"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more.
"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move.
"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move).
His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second.
A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled.
"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."
"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little.
Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."
"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."
"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again.
A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).
Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure.
"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were.
"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"
"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."
"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."
Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots.
Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever.
His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that.
There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever.
"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly.
"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"
"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared.
"Good."
"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely.
"Help?"
Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone.
Thankfully, you didn't have to.
He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee.
"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub.
"Do you want me to?"
Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."
He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt.
"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless.
You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways.
"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach.
Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh.
"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression.
"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."
You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"
"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."
"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face.
"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."
"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."
"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."
"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."
"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."
Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort.
"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes.
"Okay."
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haii could i please order a pizza with sicillian crust with red sauce, and jalapenos, chicken, and tomatoes and my drinks are mtn dew(dom), beer and diet coke. Served by Max Verstappen please!!
Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
sicillian crust dating red sauce rough sex jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" mt dew dom (reader) beer edging diet cock recording kink served by Max Verstappen
Max Verstappen x Dom reader
AN: I am so pleased with how busy the Pizzeria has been! I work at night today so I'm gonna get a couple fics more pizzas done before I have to go in.
TW - edging, sub max, dom reader, begging, unprotected sex, filming, taunting
WC 2100+
Y/N POV
I've been watching Max from the other side of the bar for the past 15 minutes while he talks to Checo about something having forgotten about the drink he was supposed to be getting me.
Another 5 minutes pass before Max is finally waving the bartender down to orders drinks and another 3 minutes before I watch Max approaching with his puppy smile trying to sweeten me up once he saw the cold stare I was giving him.
"Max it's been almost half an hour since you told me 'I'll be right back just gonna get your drink' right back my ass" I saw while rolling my eyes and talking the drink he was offering me.
"M'sorry, Checo was talking about the car," Max tells me sheepishly. I could tell he was sorry so I decided to brush it off and pull him to my side before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
"It's fine, just stay on task next time," I tell him softly whispering into his ear.
I don't know how or when it happened but there had been a shift in max and I's relationship. At one point in time, Max was a young curious boy doing any and everything he could to dominate me and 'keep me in check' but as the years progressed there was a switch and he was no longer the one wearing the pants in the relationship. Most people just assumed Max was whipped but the very few who actually knew about the dynamic just understood it. To them it all made sense, on track, Max was a dominant force that instilled fear in his fellow drivers but off the track, he just needed an outlet to be taken care of.
"I promise," Max whispers before placing a kiss on my lips.
"Love you," he says when he pulls back. "Love you too"
As the night progressed Max had done really well about doing what he's asked but then Lando showed up and I knew instantly I was gonna lose him in the crowd.
I trust Max and I have no issues with him going off but being left at a table by myself surrounded by people I had never met was making me grow more anxious than I would like to admit.
It was about an hour later when I finally saw Max approaching the table with a dopey smile across his face letting me know he had definitely had another drink or two.
"Hi baby," Max says while plopping down right next to me not picking up on the annoyance radiating off of me.
"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I ask back watching as the smile on Max's face instantly falls.
"Wha- huh? Wait, what did I do?" Max stutters, struggling to try and figure out what to say.
"You just disappeared for over an hour. You left me alone at this dan table and you didn't even tell me where the fuck you went or ask if I wanted to join," I tell him back piching his thigh slightly under the table.
"M'sorry. I promise I've been trying to be good. Don't wanna make you mad, schat" Max mumbles clearly feeling the shame of the verbal lashing he was gonna get later when we got back to the apartment.
"You're gonna be in tears tonight," I reply back straight faced not cracking a normal smile.
"Please just one more chance," Max begs knowing I meant every word.
"I gave you a chance with Checo. I don't understand how you hanging out with Lando somehow always results in you getting punished. Maybe we should send him a video of you tonight to let me know he's a terrible influence," I tell him while looking into his eyes before placing a soft kiss on his cheek to throw him off.
"You wouldn't" Max says with wide eyes of the threat of sending a sex tape. I just shrug my shoulders playing along with the bit.
"I don't know, I think he would love to know that the man he's fighting to get the World Driver Championship is just a needy whiney little bitch," I reply back making Max whine.
"You're a meanie," Max mumbles.
"And you're a brat. Don't we make a perfect pair," I saw with a smile on my face.
When we finally get back to the apartment for the night Max was pretty much sober knowing I would wait until morning if he wasn't sober. He chose take his punishment now versus the morning when he would be nursing a hangover.
"Go into our room, make sure the cats are out of the room, then strip down and be laying on you back in the bed. I'll be there in 5 minutes," I say the second the door is closed.
Max makes quick work of disappearing into our room where I assume he listened to every word I said.
In the 5 minutes, I stripped down into the lingerie set I had chosen to wear under my outfit before making my way down the hallway where I find Sassy sitting by the door staring up at me curiously. I give her a quick pet before slipping into the room to find Max exactly how I told him to be. I look around the room and found a neatly stack of clothes letting me know that Max had folded them up instead of throwing them arounf our room.
"I see you remember some of our rules," I saw while staring at the clothes so Max understood what I was referencing.
When I start climbing into the bed with Max I can see him tensing slightly in anticipation.
"You know how embarrassing it was tonight?" I said before spitting onto Max's cock and starting to jerk him off making him instantly grow hard under my hand.
"I was sat there all alone for over an hour. I looked dumb as fuck. I'm sure the Monaco gossip is gonna eat that up "Max Verstappen disappears leaving his long-time girlfriend alone at the table' You know how media is, they're gonna make it seem like there's trouble in paradise. When in reality it's just little Maxie being a brat. Oh! I almost forgot," I stop my teasing to grab my phone which I brought with me into the room.
"Say hi to Lando," I say while pointing the camera at Max's face. He's giving the camera such a pained yet slutty look it makes me laugh at his desperation. I wait a couple seconds before my voice booms through the room, "I said, Say hi to Lando." While verbally reprimanding Max I send a quick slap to his inner thigh close to his dick before pinching the same spot making Max squirm a bit.
"Hi, Lando," Max mumbles barely audible.
"Try that again. I hear the way you yell at your engineer. Such a disrespectful boy," I tell him with a raised brow.
"Hi, Lando" Max finally says in a loud enough voice to be heard.
"Good boy," I tell him while moving my unoccupied hand back to his dick making sure I have the perfect angle to get Max and his already wet with precum ccok.
"So needy. You're already dripping for me," I say with a smirk on my face.
"So good, schat" Max whines making me speed up slightly just to watch Max's breath hitch.
"I love it when you get like that," I mumble while squeezing Max's cock a bit harder.
"M'close," Max mumbled making me speed up just slightly before pulling my hand away and watching Max's eyes roll into the back of his head and tremble slightly from his pleasure being ripped away in a matter of seconds.
"No," Max whines dragging out the O sounding so desperate.
"Awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" I tease while starting to jerk Max off again while zooming the camera in on Max's cock dripping with precum.
"Schat, please," Max says already starting to beg.
"Oh come on, you can handle more than one," I tell him while leaning down and kicking softly at his tip collecting a bit of his precum.
I shuffle down the bed slightly to start pulling Max into my mouth and down my throat taking all of Max's length into my mouth making sure to bob my head slightly before bringing Max to the edge all over again.
I could tell when he was getting close again because his thighs started tensing under my hands making me rip away from Max's cock to watch him thrash around while bucking his hips to try and gain some kind of friction.
"Fuck no," Max whines staring straight at that the camera that I angled perfectly on his face.
"I love watching you get progressively more needy," I say with a smirk while gripping onto his cock and giving it a rough couple jerks before pulling Max into my mouth again.
I didn't give Max much time to calm down so he was on the edge rather quickly.
"Please, I'm gonna cum," Max says making me bod my head a bit faster before pulling away and watching Max try and chase his orgasm on his own by moving his hand to go and finish himself off but I quickly get a grip on his wrist and giving Max a look that says knock it off.
"No more," Max whines making me smirk slightly.
"Can you give me one more?" I question with a raised brow making Max whine but slowly start to nod his head.
"Yes, I can give one more," Max mumbles softly making me smile softly.
I started jerking off his cock softly making sure I'm filming everything again. I loved it when Max got like. The noises, his hips bucking, and the pure desperation in his eyes always seemed to turn me on.
I could tell Max was getting close but I wanted to push him farther than previous so I continue my movements till the second I know Max will cum I rip my hand away and watch as Max lets out a roar of desperation while jerking his body around not being able to gain any friction as I moved away slightly.
"Please, I need it. I can't do it anymore. I need to cum baby, please," Max begs making me smile softly.
"I'm gonna let you cum in a minute," I tell Max softly while rubbing his thigh in a soothing manner making Max whimper at the touch.
I turned the video off and tossed my phone away from us. I was still sitting in my lingerie set which is completely soaked through both from just witnessing Max get to the point of begging and also because I had snuck a couple fingers into my folds and teased my clit while giving Max head.
I stand from the bed softly and strip down completely before climbing back into the bed and climbing on top of Max before instantly sinking all the way down on Max.
"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel Max stretch my tight walls. I knew neither of us would last very long but looking at Max's face he was completely blissed out.
"So good," Max mumbled making his accent come out a bit thicker.
"So big baby," I moan while softly grinding my hips to gain some friction but not enough stimulation to bring Max or I to an orgasm.
"More, please" Max begs and I give him exactly what he wants because I start bouncing my hips slightly making both Max and I moan at the pleasure coursing through our bodies.
It doesn't take me long for the knot in my stomach to grow alerting me of the incoming orgasm. I look at Max's face and can tell he's trying to hold his orgasm off until I was cumming.
"Cum for me baby," I whisper out bouncing harder on Max's cock throwing me off the edge and into a violent orgasm.
The way Max's hips were erratically thrusting and the feeling of him filling me up sent me over the edge into a shaking orgasm. I'm shaking on Max's cock trying to ride both of our orgasms out.
"So good baby," I whine softly still feeling the aftershocks of the intense orgasm I just had.
"Thank you," Max says softly through staggered breath still trying to catch his breath again.
"You did good for me," I tell Max softly while pulling off his cock and laying down on his chest.
"You're not gonna send that to Lando right," Max mumbles softly making me chuckle a little and shake my head no.
"You know I would never, but I did love watching you get desperate on camera. Might start having to do that more often," I tell him softly looking up to watch his face. I could see the conflict in his eyes but he still nodded his head letting me know it was something he would be willing to do again.
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hi! i have a request idea
the characters with a lot of charisma and seem more confident e.g oikawa, kuroo, Gojo. there confident facade breaks and yn comforts them perhaps after a long day or something 🫠
feel no pressure for this and take care :))
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Beneath The Mask
characters: tooru oikawa, tetsurou kuroo, satoru gojo
warning: small nsfw joke
[word count: 1489]
Request by our first anon! Ty anon, I hope you like it🙂↕️
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Summary: Seemingly unattainable goals, long days, and high expectations may cause certain people to rip at the seams. Luckily for them, they will always have someone at their side to sow them back together.
Oikawa—
✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Tooru was not normally one to let his emotions get the best of him, especially not during a game. When you had watched him begin to drink bottles upon bottle of water whilst his eyes kept darting to the scoreboard, you knew something was wrong. He was someone who focused all of his attention on the success of his team, not of him as an individual. But because today he was hyper-fixated on an individual, he responded with the same actions.
You were worried, to say the least.
These past two months all you have seen from him is constant smiles as he gave the best advice to his teammates and even his classmates. He would smile to all of his fan girls and when he was finally able to walk home with you, he would stay quiet. Being quiet for him indicated that he was exhausted. Who could blame him? He was putting in all this effort for the people around him, yet it was simply not enough.
Nothing was ever enough to Tooru Oikawa.
Luckily for him though, everything he did was more than enough for you.
And now here you were with an exhausted Tooru laying his head on your lap as he ranted about the past few months. You gently raked one of your hands through his brown hair. From the way he was lying, his hair flopped backwards, revealing his forehead. He heavily sighed before continuing with his next tale.
“Oh, and get this—he told me I should’ve gone to shiratorizawa. Can you believe the nerve?!” He complained.
You slightly chuckled as you closed your eyes. Your free hand rested gently against his cheek. “Unfortunately, I believe it. You know he’s been like this since middle school, Tooru.” You replied. This was something you did every once in a while in order to let him know that you were still listening.
He let out a deep breath as he slowly relaxed his body in order to lean into your touch.
It became silent until he spoke up.
“Sorry you have to listen to—“ Before he could finish, the hand that was resting against his cheek quickly covered his mouth in order to block his next few words. He opened his eyes in surprise to meet your own. He was in awe as he was met with your caring gaze.
“How many times have I told you to stop apologizing to me?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.
He decided to test you, removing your hand from his face in order to speak.
“Don’t you have essays to write? How about you—“
Your lips interrupted him as you gently placed them atop of his own. A slow and very small peck, but one that undoubtedly worked.
Instead of being surprised, he smiled a smug smile.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn. You had best be glad I love you.”
Kuroo—
✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Tetsu?” You looked up from your phone as you heard some steps rushing towards you. Your eyes narrowed in worry as you noticed that the black haired bed head seemed to have been looking for you everywhere. You assumed that it only occurred to him they you would be waiting for him in the same spot where you meet up after practice.
“What’s wro—“ Your voice was cut off by his arms pulling you towards him in a strong yet loving embrace. By his lack of words, you had already figured something overwhelming must have happened either at practice or with one of the advanced classes he was taking.
There weren’t many people around anymore since it was about two hours past school hours and most people’s club’s had already ended, so you didn’t have to worry about someone passing by the two of you. You knew this moment in time was something that Tetsurou wanted to keep between the two of you.
It took you a moment to get your thoughts together, silently melting into him as your hand rubbed small circles against his back. Your lips slowly parted and you spoke twirly and softly.
“Do you want to come over to my place? I’ll order us food.” You tried to negotiate with him to make him feel better, and it seemed to have worked as he pulled away with a smirk on his face.
“Maybe I should get upset more often. I don’t really see you like this often.” He joked, causing you to snort.
“Next time I’ll just kick you into a better mood.” You replied to his little joke, pulling away to grab him by the hand instead. You lightly pulled to motion for him to walk. “Now—walk and talk. What happened?” You finally ask.
He accedes to your gesture and begins to walk hand in hand with you. He shrugged and looked up as he explained. “Being a captain and president isn’t easy work, you know.” He said nonchalantly.
‘Ah, so he is overwhelmed. And it’s college application season…’
“Trust me, I know. The student council doesn’t take excuses for late paperwork easily. Besides, it’s college season. You can take a day off, you know.” You reassured him.
He only responded with a small laugh. “I guess so.”
The walk back to your house was rather quiet, but it was a calming quiet. The Sakura trees were in full bloom even as the sky turned from a shade of orange to a soft shade of pink and purple.
“Thanks.” Tetsurou’s voice filled your ears suddenly as you neared your house. When you had looked up to him with a raised eyebrow, you noticed that he wasn’t looking your way. Rather, he was looking straight ahead. Seemed like he was a bit embarrassed when it came to things like that.
You smiled and leaned into him, your head against his arm.
“Any time.”
Gojo—
✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Sooo…are you gonna explain that last message or…?” You tapped your foot against the wooden floors, your back resting against the wall behind you whilst the man in front of you took off his jacket, leaving him in a button up. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. He threw the jacket over to the couch beside you, which distracted you. You turned your head to see the jacket land, but ended up feeling Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and pulling you up.
You gasped in surprise, looking at him in bewilderment as he carried you over to your shared bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed and joined you shortly afterwords by laying damn near on top of you, knocking your breath out of you.
He then sighed dramatically. “Just tired.” He mumbled as he buried his head at the crook of your neck. In turn, you sighed at his antics, but you knew he would usually laugh it off it wasn’t something important.
“The strongest can express his emotions too, you know~?” You spoke in a sing-song voice, trying to motivate him to speak.
Unfortunately, Satoru was not a man that would budge so easily.
“The strongest has to stay that way for his fiancée to actually want him.” He retaliated.
You rolled your eyes and smacked the back of his head. His glasses fell off his face and landed on your chest. You picked them up and closed them gently to place them on the bedside counter. When you turned back to look at him, he was looking at you with his crystalline eyes.
“I like Satoru, the man who goes crazy over kikufuku. Having ‘Gojo’, the strongest man, is simply a bonus. Now if you were a bum like a certain beggar, then that would be different.” You reassured him as you raked your hand through his hair.
Satoru laughed at your explanation before placing soft pecks to your collarbone.
I few minutes of the same routinely affections, you pat the back of his head to signal for him to get up.
“Are you gonna eat the kikufuku or are you just gonna let it get hard?” You asked him with a feigned annoyed voice. However, his next words caused you to push him off of you.
“Something else is already hard unfortunately. Do you wanna deal with that first~?”
“Yeah, you’re done. I’m eating them by myself.”
He quickly got up to run after you, chasing you around your house as you tempted him with the kikufuku in your hands, a grin on your face. He eventually caught you after letting you have your fun and made the two of you fall on the couch with him on top of you. He grabbed one of the kikufuku and took a bite, whilst you bit the other end.
The Strongest was a title given at birth, but Satoru is who he chose to be. It just so happened to be the person you chose to be with for the rest of your life, too.
~
I am posting this half asleep bcs I have work tmrw morning 😾 (im going to blow my head off)
Anywho, I hope everyone liked it!
I’ll knock out the next requests tmrw!
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Animated dividers created by @/cafekitsune!
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