Jumping The Gun
Jumping The Gun
or: the one where John Price fucks the idea of marriage into you.
cw: 5.9k words (gawd DAMN), 18+ MDNI, klutz in love!Price, kinda toxic!Price, smut with plot, no use of y/n, dumbification, squirting, p in v, protected & unprotected sex, dubcon, dumbification, creampie, breeding kink, marathon!, water show, cum eating, engagement, reader!has tattoos, reader!is in denial of Egypt, Daddy said a couple times idk, john visuals, reader visuals,
a/n: My Whole Life by Alina Baraz *chefs kiss*
Everyone in the 141 was shocked when John Price came back after taking a month an a half off for leave with a golden ring on his ring finger, a new picture frame to place on his desk, and practically jumping off the roof to fill out more paperwork for a special someone. Again.
You were his third marriage.
John was good at making quick decisions, making up his mind at the exact right time when it was do or die. But the old man was a complete klutz when it came to love.
The first marriage, admittedly, was never gonna last long. He was fresh out of highschool, still in the infantry and married his highschool sweetheart. His parents were sceptical but supportive. It wasn’t uncommon to marry early, hell, his parents did so why couldn’t he?
It just wasn’t in the cards.
The distance and the worry was just too much. The divorce was clean cut since they didn’t have any kids and we’re still young. Him and his ex-wife, Cara, were still fairly close. He’d get a call from the woman and her husband (surprisingly) to come over for dinner every once in a while. No bad blood.
But that second marriage? John was a goddamn idiot.
Was it his fault he married with his eyes and not with his brain? Yes. A man is still a man at the end of the day. You see a woman with an amazing set of knockers on her, pretty blue eyes, skinny waist and blonde hair— you’d fall for it too!
She was obnoxious, loud, and always, always, always needed new clothes, shoes, hair and nails done. Now John had no problem spending on his woman, he’d bring down Jupiter if had to. The problem was she complained and whined. Complained about the clothes not being ‘high quality enough,’ the house not being big enough, the brand new convertible not pink enough. Whined when she went over the already pricey budget the man set for her, that she couldn’t spend his life savings on her, that John was too hairy, ran too warm, too tall—no fucking sense.
He got out of the marriage by the scrape of his teeth, lucky that his siblings convinced him to get a prenup. She left with no pounds to her name, shoving all her belongings in that hot pink convertible and crying that no money went to her when the captain had sold the house.
But you? Oh you. His honey, sweet girl, little wanderer— you were the real deal.
John was walking with a couple friends heading to some bar a few hours after being back in the UK. You were walking the opposite direction, bags from different stores after a day of shopping in your hand. You looked like a model, long black trench coat on, a fitted baby blue crop top, black leather shorts that showed off the tattoos that went down your legs, slouched heeled boots that went mid calf. Curls blowing in the wind, you thankfully hadn’t noticed the hairy fellow till you bumped into him.
“You alright?”
Your brown eyes met his blue ones as he steadied you upright. You were awe struck, as if you were meeting a famous person on the street but you had just ran into a good looking older, muscular, brunette with a few stray grey hairs. You slowly started nodding, laughing aloud at yourself at how dumb you probably looked. “ ‘M just fine.” You said breathlessly.
You started to hear the passing cars, bustle of the streets and the murmur from your phone as your friend on the line was calling out to you. “Shit, I-I gotta go.”
And your feet was guiding you away without another word but your eyes were still glued to the man as you walked away. Looking back as he watched you walk away. You chuckles as you got back on the phone with your friend, disappearing into the croud.
The second time he saw you he was heading for a tea, as he walked past ‘Walker Travel Agency.’ John glanced inside and there a woman sat— no— you, sat turning in your chair towards the computer as you spoke to someone through your Bluetooth. You were dressed in an oversized white button up, black slacks, hair now pin straight in a low ponytail, pinned back by a few purple clips with very a light blush on your cheeks.
Even dressed casually, you were a sight for sore eyes. He tried his best not to look like a creep as he finally went to go get his tea but his eyes were glued to you as he walked past the office again. He figured it was fine just this once. Twice, three times— okay, maybe a forth that was completely out of the way of the military base and his own home but this was fine.
He was just getting tea after all.
But the forth time you stood by the water cooler sipping water, you caught those blue eyes. A small smile formed on your face as he tripped a bit once he saw you finally looking back at him. You gave him a small, shy wave with your fingers before he completely passed the building. Your angelic smile growing wider as he passed the building again to get to his car.
And that continued for another week, waves and smiles and stupid blushes that made his heart jump outs until he finally got the courage to pop his head in. He’d just say hello, this was a silly crush. Nothing more, nothing less.
The doorbell chimed once the door opened and you immediately sat straight in your chair, as you were trained to do when a potential customer came in.
“I was thinking of a trip?”
No he wasn’t. He knew that, you knew that by the way he was completely dressed in military attire and kept staring at you instead of the posters of different vacation spots on the wall. But you nodded your head, gesturing for him to take a seat in front of your desk.
“Where would you like to go sir?”
You two hit it off after that. John would pop his head in, leaving thirty minutes before his lunch break even started just to get his little dose of you, before running off to get a tea. You even started making tea so he didn’t have to go to the coffee shop.
Right, it was his lunch break?
You’d made sure to start packing lunch for two and arranging meetings so your lunch break was suddenly at the same time as his. You didn’t know why you did it for your new friend, it just felt right. You made that forty something year old man feel like a teenager again, he couldn’t just sit on this crush forever. He wouldn’t.
*Care to join me for a pint after work?*
A simple text that he’d debated on for two days had him flushed.
*new message*
Don’t usually drink beer :(
Two days down the drain. Maybe he should’ve asked for dinner instead? Or a movie? A walk? Too fucking causal—
*new message*
but if you’re the one asking, how can I say no?
text me where baby :))
Gaz had to make sure he wasn’t sick before he left work that day because he was as red as a cherry tomato.
You laid it out clean to John that you weren’t ready for a relationship.
“ ‘M too flighty ya see.”
“How so?” You two had already been in the crowded pub at a booth, you’d been chatting for 3 hours already senselessly. One pint for each of you, you weren’t good with beer while John just didn’t wanna make a drunken mistake.
“I told you I’ve just been here for a year, right?”
He hummed, nodding for you to continue.
“Well I was in Brazil before that, Osaka for a couple months before that. DR, LA and France before all that.”
“Oh, you’re a real traveler I see.”
“More than you.” You smirked and John laughed, “Think you can beat me sweetheart? Been all over the world ‘nd back. Thrice over.”
You teased, “I can beat’cha soon enough, just wait on it.” You sighed, picking up your half empty glass to take a sip, “But really, a relationship right now is a no-can-do for me. I’d hate to waste yer time after you’ve been so kind t’me honey.”
“Not a single moment with you has been a waste’ve time, believe me [+].” It was gentle but stern, your fingers brushed over the table which made your heart race faster.
John was too sweet, sinkingly so. It made you question how his marriages didn’t work sometimes but you kept your mouth shut about it. You gave him a smile, “I wouldn’t mind bein fuck buddies though.”
His thick eyebrows furrowed together, “Oh John come on now, you ain’t that old!”
Friends who fucked, he knew what it was. But with you? Someone that he’d grown to care for? This was a line he preferred not to cross.
But damn, those brown eyes under the dim light, the mid length blow out that went just below your shoulders, your long sleeve flared blouse that showed off your cleavage just right, wasn’t helping. He hadn’t even realized he’d given you a ‘sounds good to me’ before you gave him an okay and went on to another topic as if you two hadn’t just agreeded to be sex partners.
The night came to a close around 10:50, John didn’t want you at the station by yourself late at night since you were a woman so he took you home.
“I’m a grown woman, John.” You insisted for the thousandth time.
“Yer a grown woman that ‘m drivin home. Exactly. Yer right.” John nodded along with you nonchalantly and you groaned into a giggling fit, no longer being able to fight with him over this.
You pulled up to your apartment and pointed out a parking spot, John followed suit. Thinking you’d probably rather get out of a parked car than hold up traffic on a Friday night.
You got out the car, looking between your apartment building and the older man.
“You wanna come up?”
John fucking Price was a god damn problem.
The first time you two fucked, was just to dip your toes in. See if the older man could handle you, keep up with what you were up to.
The second time was for good measure. You had to make sure it wasn’t an illusion! Get your bearings in order.
The third time— looking back you should’ve known that’s when he caught you. And I mean really had you for good because you’d be damned if he was fucking some other girl the way he was fucking you.
You had to have a cordial briefing with your friend group, explaining to them how you were now a born again Christian because John didn’t just have you seeing stars. No— you saw Jesus resurrecting from the tomb, legs shaking as they were wrapped around his hips. Chest to chest, as John knelt on the bed, fucking up into you through your orgasm. You’d pushed yourself away from him but he snatched you up just before you passed out.
“Stay with me lovie, can’t have you passin out on me can I?” His pink lips connected with your neck again. Your entire body was trembling. This fool, this barbarian, loooved making you a dummy on his dick. You’d learned that the second time. But this time, fuck, it was strange.
“Strange, baby, it feels- mmph s-strange.” You mumbled through a moan, you were limp as he held onto your waist with one arm, bouncing you just the way he needed you to. He was practically using you as a sex toy and you hadn’t minded. You were drooling on his shoulder and down your own face and that freak kept lapping it up. Opening your mouth so he could spit it back in you and suck on your tongue.
“Your tight little cunt squeezing me so good. You love when I suck your tongue, don’t you pretty?”
Your eyes were rolling into each other again, “loooove it sooooo much Daddy.”
“Come on, kiss me while I give it to you.” He didn’t have to tell you twice to get your lips to latch onto his. John kissed so romantic like, slow, desperate— like he was trying to mold the two of you together and you loved it. John’s thrusts got fast, barley pulling out with every swing of his hips up into your tight walls. But he kept hitting your g-spot, clit rubbing right at the bottom of his hairy abdomen. It felt amazing— too amazing—
You yankied yourself away from him again, “wait! ‘M serious- J- fuuuck- John! It’s too weird! I’m- shit- ‘m gonna pee!”
“ ‘S not pee, let it go.” He gruffed, groaning at how good you felt around his swelling cock.
“It isssss!” You whined out, slapping at his arms but he wouldn’t let up.
“Come on sweet girl, squirt all over me. Wanna be covered in you.”
And the crash came, water works flying every which way and your eyes. John came right after you, babbling about how good you were, how amazing you felt around him. But you were crying real tears now, you swore you just peed all over this older man’s thighs even though you told him it was weird. It was humiliating.
“I told you I was gonna pee, ‘nd you didn’t listen!” You hiccuped, covering your face as John laid you back on the bed. He’s eyebrow lifted as he slipped out of you, removing the filled condom and examining the situation that was now on his pudgy stomach, his thighs, your legs and the bed.
“Sweetie,” he started chuckling at how cute were being, you shoved one of your wobbly legs at his chest. It didn’t do any damage. “Have you never squirted before?”
“No,” you sniffled, “ ‘s just pee!”
“ ‘S not the same thing lovie.”
“Yes it issss!” You retorted, going to kick him again but your own leg giving up on you.
John rubbing your thighs as he got inbetween them. Your pussy was glistening in the rooms light, too mesmerized, he let the pads of two fingers take a swipe of all the juices that sat on your vulva and putting it in his mouth. He moaned at the taste.
You gasped, “John!” You hadn’t meant to see the sight through your fingers but shit, it was making you even more wet. The older saw you squirm, shaking his head, he needed a front row seat this time. He lifted your thighs over his shoulders so his mouth was right in front of your cunt.
“Gotta feel it on my tongue baby, won’t you? Please?”
You two went on like that, calling each other whenever you needed. You were always the first to know when the Captain got home, before his own family, because he’d have his fat cock in you by the time you could finish saying ‘welcome back.’
John couldn’t lie and say it was inconvenient getting to let off steam other than exercising or taking a swing of bourbon. It didn’t help that you were actually such a sweet girl, he loved being around. You two would hang out when you had the chance, going out and about or just watching a movie at home. When you were out, all dolled up in a mid thigh, navy blue sun dress and white heels showed off those gorgeous legs, curls in a high ponytail— you two looked like a sugar daddy and a sugar baby. But you never cared about the looks people gave you, you’d grab his larger hand in yours that was freshly manicured with long soft yellow nails and swing your hands back and forth. Even taking the time to introduce the man properly when you ran into your friends on the street.
“He’s a real carin, smart and just all around incredible guy I swear,” Your eyes would beam at him, so longingly then back to your friends and back to John because you always found yourself getting lost in his pretty ocean blue eyes. “I’m real thankful to have met a man like him.”
How could he have not fallin for you?
It was when you and John accidentally ran into his parents while casually hanging out in his home town he knew he just had to marry you.
You were as charismatic as ever, your southern charm easily pulling them in. John thought for sure they’d be more careful since you were younger than the past two women that John brought to meet them. But despite how eccentric you looked in your shorts that hung off your hips, waist beads around your stomach, crop top and the tattoos that his parents generation definitely weren’t used to, layered necklaces and bracelets— they easily fell for you just like he did.
“You sure ‘bout takin them out for lunch, [+]? You don’t have to.”
You rolled your eyes, pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road.
“It’s only right to treat the folks who raised you John. They’ve done well with you, ‘nd ‘m sure your siblings ‘re just as kind. Plus I kinda wanna see more of your smile through your mom. It’s sooo fuckin cute.”
Yup.
That was right there confirmed, he was gonna put a ring on that fuckin finger. He could’ve blurted it out while at that quaint little lunch you had. His parents adored you, even got your number down to give you a call if you needed anything while you were still in the UK.
The man was gonna get you to stay in the UK.
The first time he’d asked, it was too fucking casual. Again, the man was always too eager. Tripping and falling through love was a bad habit of his. You’d laughed in his face.
“John, baby, please be serious.” You threw your braids up in a ponytail, tip toeing around the room to get your clothes. John did that on purpose, the old man always wanted a little more time with you, to see the sunrise kissing your skin perfectly as that after glow of sex looked gorgeous on you.
He’d pout under that thick beard, fuckin precious bear, “ ‘M bein serious. Want us t’get married, be happy.”
“Don’t you leave next week John?”
“So?”
You deadpanned, “John.”
Okay, he was too eager that time. He should’ve thought it though. Right, you deserved proper proposal planning. Not some random after sex question. You made your way over to that big guy, he was still naked, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor. You bent over, that same gleam in your brown eyes that shown every time you looked at him. He could’ve fuckin melted right then and there as you placed your hands on his knees, leaving a long a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.
“You call me if ya need anything John. I mean it, even if it’s those fuckin cookies-“
“—Biscuits—“
“—Whateverrr~” you giggled, lightly touching his beard as John took your waist in his hands. Shit, he’d miss you. Miss your kindness, your willingness to drop everything for him, those long lashes that fluttered when you woke up. “I’ll send ‘em yer way, letter ‘f course too. Whatever ya need, John, you let me know.”
With the softest kiss on the lips, you were on your merry way just as you usually were.
The second time John proposed, he did it right.
He had a proper ring. Simple, because you loved simple. The box was in his pants pocket the entire night, itching to get out. You went to a nice fancy dinner to a place you swore you’d only told him once about, took you for a nice stroll, your curls in a half up, half down, dress hugging you just right and John was in a dressy casual. Ultra simple, classic. He was sure he’d get a yes this time.
He hadn’t even gotten the chance to get on he knee before you’d grab his hands. Your bottom lip trembling.
“Sweetheart…”
“Need you tuh listen t’me baby, please.” You pleaded, tears already threatening to burst out like a dam.
“Now I care ‘boutcha so much John. So much that I hate myself fer puttin you in a situation like this.” You sniffled, squeezing his hand to reassure him.
“But ya can’t marry me.” John lamented.
“John—“
“—what is it then? Is it the age gap? I thought you’d gotten over it.”
“John-“ “-clothes? I’ll give it to you. Want me to shave? Done. Love? I’ve got multitudes. If it’s money- it’s yours.” He was racking his brain for something, anything that could’ve draw you to keep him near. 
“I don’t want your money John.” You cursed.
“Then what do you want?! Why can’t I give it to you?!”
“I want your happiness above all else John! But I can’t-“ your voice croaked. You let go of his hands, “I can’t give that back to ya. I know I can’t.”
“Tha’s a fuckin lie—“
“—I’m sorry John. Truly.”
Without another word, you’d ran off. Your heals clicking against the pavement, cries heard through the silent park.
You’d known John for a year but technically only about 5 months since he was away for the other seven. But you knew so much about him, he’d send letters whenever he could, call, text and be right with you when he was back because it ‘felt like the place he needed to be’. It wasn’t a shock that John had grown to love you, it was a shock that you’d grown to love him too.
It scared the living shit out of you.
So you did what you always did.
Move.
It never took you long, you always had a storage unit ready, a few cardboard boxes in the back of your closet, a new job to hire you in another country because you always knew a little bit of the language. But this time you didn’t move far enough, you didn’t have to heart to. If John were to call you right now, you would’ve dropped what you were doing and ran to him.
Which is why you blocked him on everything (even though he didn’t use social media that often).
You moved yourself to the countryside, in a much smaller apartment but in a much quieter town by the sea. You were working the front of a fish market, did you know about fish? No. Did they hire you because you were pretty and your endless list of credentials at other random places on your resume? Yes. You didn’t have a problem with blending right in, building peoples trust with ease.
It was a good and bad habit.
John on the other hand was loosing his mind because he didn’t know where the hell you were. He couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you, and you weren’t replying to his letters. Fuck, the man called his parents and they managed to get an answer but only vague answers.
He’d come to you flat after being away, rushing through (but properly taken care of) a mission because he needed to make sure you were alright. As he rung thr buzzer, he got no answer. He was lucky one of your neighbors came out and told him what had happened.
How could you have moved without telling him, of all people?
It hurt him more than anything to have a mishap like that happen and then not be able to contact you. But to move? With no explanation?
He could play cat and mouse.
He’d play it constantly in the 141, taking down terrorists and the like in less than a couple weeks— you’d be an easy find. He was sure of it.
He’d found you soon enough, a couple days, in that god damn fish market, a wide smile on your face as you talked to the multiple people who crowded the stall where you worked. Why were you working here of all places?
He ignored the growing concerns, joining the line of customers at the stall. Most of the customers having something to say to you and you encouraging more conversation as they made their orders and paid. Then it was his turn. He took a step forward and you looked up at him like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart dropped out of your ass. He looked to the fish that sat on display on ice, then to you and titled his head.
“When do you get off?”
“John-“
“-When.” The older man spoke tightly. It came out more like a statement than a question.
The lady who worked with you, Malissa, chimed in with a knowing smile, “Give ‘er an hour.”
Your eyes widened at the older woman whilst John gave her a pleased look, “I’ll be around.” John left the building and you felt your stomach turn over. You glared at Malissa and she laughed at you, “But it’s love, isn’t it [+]?”
Was it that obvious?
Couldn’t have been. As if the blush showed on your brown cheeks. You gave him the same smile you did everyone else, didn’t you? The same kindness, same glances you snuck, soft touches, and the same brushing of fingers. The way you held onto that man’s arm as you presented him to your friends like a trophy, you did the same to anyone else you admired, right? Right?
No fucking way you did. John was the one, well, situation you fully committed to head first. And you didn’t even know when that happened, you liked the thought of someone romantically caring for you, the kindness and joy that was always a package deal when being in that guys presence. Someone that took you and your hopes and dreams serious for once in your life.
Oh God, you were in deep love with John Price.
You could’ve been thrown across the field by your own heart pounding so loud when you walked out of the market. John sitting on the bench, cigar between his fingers, watching the passersbyers and then at you. He stood, nodding for you to follow him in some direction.
“Let’s take a walk.”
The tension was too damn high. You could feel it through the air as you too walked, the only sound being made was the sound of you feet on pavement, the jingle of keys, the sea in the distance. Your curls were probably a mess now, the cold air blowing every which way.
“How’ve you been?” You tried cutting through the ice, eyes finding anything else to look at.
John paused for a moment, a sigh coming out, “I didn’t think you hated me enough to block me [+].”
You winced, as if it pained you to hear those words alone. “I could never hate you John.”
“Then why-“ another frustrated sigh, “You switched jobs to avoid me!”
You squinted your eyes, “Why would you wanna see me after that John!? There was nothing more to say. I was trying to make your life easier!”
“And why would life be easier without you?” His eyebrows furrowed, hand on his hip. He kept rubbing his face.
You opened your mouth to say something, try to get out of the mess you made but nothing would come out. John wanted to laugh at this but it’s not like it would be genuine. Scoffing, he flicked the end of the cigar to the ground. You were like a Hurricane, create a mess to keep people away but right at the center, there was a serene calm. Only soft winds. You didn’t know what you were doing with yourself. John, saw that.
“I’ll take you home.”
“I can walk from here though.”
John gently took your hand in his, looking down at you with sincerity in his blue eyes. “You know how I feel about you bein alone like this. Let me take you home.”
It didn’t take much convincing, it was just a short 5 minute drive from the hills you stood now to your flat. John opened the door to the car for you, making sure you were safely tucked in before slamming it shut and getting in the drivers side. He drove off, down to the main road but then passed the street you had pointed out.
“Where we going?”
“Home.”
“But my place is-“
“—[+], please.” His jaw was clenched, gripping the wheel and your thigh. “You hate it so much, you yell to the rooftops that ya hate me. Despise every breath I breathe. I’ll stop right now.”
Like you would. You huffed, crossing your arms and looking out the window.
John didn’t get irritated easy. Patience was a vertue, that’s what his parents told him all the time. After two marriages you’d think the man would’ve learned by now.
But the man was starving for you, aching to have you say you were his and he was yours after all this and you still not knowing what you wanted— he’d make the decision for you.
You would be his wife and you two were getting married.
The thought of John being mean hadn’t crossed your mind once.
John Price who was usually so gentle, tapping your thigh so you could move yourself in whatever position he wanted you in, grabbing pillows so it would be easier on you, always checking if you were alright every take you reached you high.
That was not the John you were dealing with right now. He was manhandling however he wanted, both hands on your ass cheeks, legs over his arms, slamming you up and down on his cock and letting you cum over and over. Till he had enough of you in that position and fucked you right on the floor, your back getting carpet burn in front of the bedroom door that you didn’t get the chance to close.
And fuck, you thought it was heavenly before, him raw was otherworldly. You felt every ridge, every vein, every twist of his throbbing manhood, every once of precum that made your walls even wetter than they already were.
“Gonna fill you up-“
“—John- mmm- you can’t-“
He grunted, swatting your hands that tried to push him away.
“Gonna fill ya up like a good husband should,” the man’s nodding at his own words, already pussy drunk. But he was speaking words that he’s held back for months. “gotta getcha ready for when we have a baby.”
You hiccuped, John was talking crazy. A baby? A marriage? With John? And he’s whispering it all in your ear. This was tooooo much— too full—
“John i-it’s too deep! I- shit- gimmie a second—“
He pouted, fucking pouted, as if he didn’t know he was pushing his fat, veiny, cock to the fucking hilt of you. Your ankles somehow at the back of your head, “Can’t ya see it baby? You, waddlin around with our baby inside you-“ John hissed, you just kept clenching around him perfectly everytime he thrusted into his “-In a new house- haaah— after we broken it in ‘f course. Gotta break it in for good- fuckin- measure. Little ones running around, an office for daddy ‘nd a office for mummy— It’ll be perfect.”
You didn’t even realize you were cumming, your ears were just ringing, cunt contracting around Johns dick like you were aching for it.
You’d never in your life had a man cum inside you, but my God. John, this old barbarian, was gonna get you addicted to each and every single shot of cum that came from his leaking tip that reached inside your deepest place.
“Fuck, gotta give you another baby.”
John was determined to fuck you into delerium, you’d pass out after cumming so much and wake up to John sucking his cum out of you. Water breaks? The older man is sipping it and putting it in your mouth. Felt stuffy in the bedroom? No problem, John’s moving you to the bathroom to fuck you there with your leg propped up on the bath tub, the wall in the hallway looked like it was missing your face being pressed into it as John drilled you from behind.
Hungry? John’s feeding you whatever he cooked up the thirty minutes he’d left your bruised pussy alone, and then having you cock warm him in the fucking kitchen. All while kissing all over you, how you were such a pretty wife on his dick.
“We gonna get married John?” You slurred out, sticking your thumb in his mouth then sticking it in yours and moaning at the taste. Sweet.
You were fucked out, if the man said he was gonna max out your cards right now he could’ve. But you were, in fact, his finance. Right then and there, no one could convince you otherwise.
“S-Say that again sweetheart?”
You gripped the back of his neck your your hand, getting him to look at you head on, pecking his lips once. Twice. Three times, “You said you’d make me your wife, you’d really do that John? Make me a wife? Won’t get tired of me?”
“Oh birdie, h-how could I ever get tired of you? I-I’m in love you you.”
“Really? I love- I love yooouu John.” Your hips practically rolled on their own, the captain throwing his head back against the headboard for dear life.
“Fuck mee lovie— whatever you want, whateverrr you fucking want.” His hands found your hips, guiding you just the way you needed to get off. Slow, mean— loving.
“G-god, so amazin, amazin John! Wan’ a chapel wedding -ngghh- You, me, some rings and that fuckin preist,”
“ ‘F course baby, course.” John was stammering out words, he could barley keep up now. Fuck, rings. Those fucking rings— “wait baby, gimmie a second.”
“But John,” you keened, hating the idea of being apart for even a millisecond. Oh you’d be the death of that old man. And he wouldn’t’ve minded dying in your sopping cunt knowing you wanted to marry him.
He’d marry you from hell if he had to.
He reached out to the nightstand, an arm hooked around your waist to keep you close as you sloppily rode him, fumbling to grab the black box he placed there yesterday.
Some how he managed to get that box open, two golden rings sat inside. He grabbed yours, tossing the box to the side and slipping the ring on the proper finger.
“Oh! It’s sooo pretty John!” You moaned, eyes stuck to the ring, heart eyes practically forming in your pupils as you looked at the man who was balls deep inside you.
“Come on wife, you know how to cum for your future husband don’t you?”
“You keep looking at it.”
“ ‘S just so nice John.”
It was a single gold ring that fit your finger perfectly, the matching one that you asked to put on John once woke you up. You two were completely knocked out after two days of going at it like animals. You couldn’t feel your legs and your voice was an inch off from being shot. But you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You loved being engaged, you loved John, and you loved the thought of a future with him.
“You wanna have a small wedding, don’t you?” John entangled your fingers together, his other hand caressing your thighs. The sunshine was shining through the window of the dim room.
“I’d prefer if it was just you ‘nd me. We can do somethin with your family later. I-I think it’ll be real intimate ‘f it’s just us. Like the movies-“
The older man’s eyes crinkled, “Oh, so you’ve thought about it?”
You scuffed, “I’d be silly not to think about marryin you at least once, John.”
Price opened his mouth, feeling more than shy at his grown age. He stuttered, “No take backs, alright? You gotta marry me now.”
You hooked your ring finger with his John’s matching one, giving it a quick kiss.
“No take backs.”
a/n: it’ll be a miracle if anyone even reads all this. if you did, leave me a message or comment if you liked it or if you hated it pls I wanna hear your thoughts.
More Posts from Iammadeoffairytears and Others
Warm Embrace
Summary: Spencer and his wife explore ways to be intimate with each other after a traumatic event
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Please read the CW, this story contains potentially triggering topics!
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) referenced past SA of Reader (non-graphic), implied flashbacks, trauma related sexual problems, conversations about sex and intimacy, nudity, kissing, mutual masturbation, handjob, thigh riding
Word count: 5.4k
Masterlist
“Spencer?” Your voice echoed through the apartment when you stepped through the door and found no sign of your husband.
A distant sound came from the bathroom. “In here!”
After a quiet knock on the door and his confirmation that you could step in, you found Spencer sitting in the bathtub. The room was filled with the lavender scent of the bath soap and what you could see of his body was covered in bubbles. It almost looked comical how his knees stuck out of the water, making it obvious that the tub was not big enough to accommodate his long limbs.
“I was too tired to take a shower,” he explained after discovering your curious expression.
“I can see that,” you laughed. “I thought you hated taking baths.”
“Honestly, I think I’m starting to understand why you like them so much. This isn't too bad.”
You stood there for a few moments, smiling at the sight in front of you. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, you slowly began shedding your clothes.
“Mind if I join you?” you wondered.
Nothing about this situation would be unusual for any other married couple. Just a few months ago neither of you would have questioned your actions. Back then initiating any form of intimacy with each other felt natural and familiar.
Things were different now, though.
Spencer cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Are you sure about this?”
There was a reason to ask. For the past months any attempt to get close to each other resulted in you crying for the rest of the night. Something as simple as him placing his hand on your thigh was enough to startle you.
A sigh rolled over your lips as you dropped your shirt to the floor. “No,” you confessed. “But I miss you.”
“I’m right here,” he reminded you.
That was not what you meant and he knew that. Of course he understood the meaning of your words. Spencer was well aware of the fact that ever since that son of a bitch hurt you, you fought a constant battle between wanting his nearness and pushing him away.
Your husband gave you the space you needed and was there to hold you whenever you’d let him. It couldn't have been easy for him either but he never once complained about this new reality you had a live.
A reality where that person took something from you that you’d never get back. It was hard to shake this feeling of being tainted after having your physical integrity stripped away like that. You were distant and closed off when it came to intimacy, despite your best efforts to get back to what once was normal. It had been months since Spencer even saw you unclothed.
That was about to change.
Slowly, you pulled down your pants before reaching back to undo your bra. Spencer's sight followed the piece of clothing as it dropped to the floor before settling on your face again.
“Stop profiling me,” you warned him with a playful undertone in your voice.
“Sorry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
By pulling down your panties, you shed your last piece of clothing, leaving you completely bare in front of your husband. It was a strange feeling to reveal yourself to him. It felt new yet familiar to allow him to see you.
However, he didn't dare to look, even when you approached the tub. It wasn't clear whether he just tried to be respectful or if seeing you like this for the first time after months was too much for him to bear. His reaction reminded you that he never answered your question about you joining him. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t okay with this.
Spencer’s eyes widened as he noticed the change of your mood before you did. Within a split second your heart started pounding and you stepped back to reach for your bathrobe.
“Sorry, this was a stupid idea,” you muttered as you turned around to shield your body from his sight and your heart from the rejection.
“My love,” he cooed from behind you.
The sound of splashing water gave away that he was exiting the tub. From the corner of your eyes you saw how he reached for his own robe.
You felt his presence behind you. “Can I touch you?”
You nodded as you turned around, finding him wrapped in his robe with water still dripping from his jawline. Spencer reached out his hands to pull you into his arms.
“What just happened?” He wondered, his voice laced with concern.
Before you could think about it, you mumbled, “You didn't want to look at me.”
Your husband thought about your words for a moment, replaying the scene that had just unfolded in his mind. What you said wasn’t true. He wanted to look at you, to admire you fully like he had done countless times before.
“I was afraid it would make you uncomfortable,” he confessed as he pulled back to be able to find your eyes.
It was hard to read your expression which was not surprising considering you were mostly confused about your current state yourself.
“I miss the way you used to look at my body. I miss being close to you,” you whispered and paused for a moment. “I miss… sex.”
He closed his eyes before placing an innocent kiss on your forehead. “I know,” he breathed. Me too, he thought.
“Do you still think about it?” You wanted to know.
“Sex?”
Nodding, you watched his facial features intently. Ever since your attack, there were many occasions when the two of you had tiptoed around this subject. But never before had you been so blunt about it.
It seemed like he was looking for the right words. “Yes, I do,” was what he settled on.
Raising your eyebrows, you asked, “With me?”
The insecurity in your question wasn’t lost on Spencer but he still couldn't hold back a breathy laugh. “Of course, silly girl. You're my wife.”
“It’s just been so long that I would understand if you ever thought about doing it with someone else.”
“Stop that right now,” he said with a firm yet loving tone. “I would never cheat on you.”
A shaky breath escaped your throat before you dared to say what had been bugging you for weeks now. “What if I’ll never be ready? What if things won’t ever be like before?”
“That would be okay, too,” he reassured you. “There are many ways to create nearness and intimacy. Sex is just one way but it’s not necessary. At least for me it’s not.”
“So you’d be okay to live without sex?”
“Before I met you I thought that was my only option,” he quipped.
You knew there had been a handful of women before you but you appreciated his joke nonetheless. It made you smile.
Spencer let his fingertips brush over your cheeks. “But to answer your question, yes, I would be okay with that.”
His words were genuine. The way he looked at you with the most loving expression made your heart jump. The amber of his irises radiated a warmth you could get drunk on. You nestled your head against his chest and he held you even closer against his body. He was right. Sex wasn’t necessary to create nearness. However, you were still curious about what else you felt safe enough to try.
“I want to get into the bathtub with you,” you whispered. “And I want you to look at me.”
Loosening the embrace, you looked at your husband. With a nod he confirmed that he wanted that, too.
With shaking fingers you brushed over his robe before gripping the material. “And I want to see you, too.”
Together you helped each other out of your robes until you stood bare in front of each other. You took a moment to admire the man in front of you. It had been a while since you had seen him like that. Unlike you he didn't deliberately hide his body from your sight but there hadn’t been many occasions in the past few months that allowed you to see him unclothed.
His body looked familiar yet different at the same time. His tummy was a little bit softer than you remembered and you imagined what it would feel like underneath your palm.
Spencer dared to let his eyes drop down to take in every inch of skin within sight. The way he looked at you made your skin tingle and you noticed how it broke out in goosebumps.
“You're so beautiful,” he purred as he tentatively brushed over your arms.
Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss on his lips before breathing against them, “So are you.”
He took your hand in his to walk you over to the bathtub. Your husband got in first, bending his knees in an attempt to make himself smaller than he was. There was enough space to join him, a relieved sigh falling from your lips when you felt the warm water enveloping your body.
First you sat a little awkwardly opposite one another for a few moments before you felt confident enough to get closer. Gently, you placed your hands on his knees to part them before moving closer to lean against his body sitting between his legs. Spencer’s heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage as you nestled against his chest.
“Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure.
“Yeah, I uh… I’m not sure where to put my hands,” he chuckled and you noticed how they hovered above the edge of the bathtub.
Taking his hands in yours, you guided them towards the water, placing them underneath your chest. Even though you expected his touch, you still jerked when you felt his palms make contact with your body.
Instinctively, your husband wanted to retract his hands again but you held them still with your own palms pressed against them. Once the initial shock faded, you were certain that you wanted to be held exactly like that.
A part of you still wanted to fight this vulnerable situation but a much bigger, much more confident part longed to be close to the love of your life.
It was as if Spencer sensed your ambiguity. “You okay?”
“Yes,” you confirmed. Then you thought about the way your body flinched when he touched you. It had happened before each time Spencer had touched you in places that he had touched, too. “I just feel like my body has to relearn a couple of things.”
Spencer nodded before finally being able to relax a bit. He leaned back while holding you against him, relishing the sensation of having you close without any barriers between you. Just for a moment he forgot about what had happened to you and to your own surprise, so did you.
For the following weeks you made it a new habit to take baths with each other. There was something so sweet about getting clean together, it became a sacred ritual you wanted to repeat over and over.
Slowly but surely you got more comfortable around Spencer. There was a time when you didn't think it was possible that the two of you would cuddle every night and every morning without constantly having to fear that you’d freak out at any given moment.
But just like that it happened. Spencer didn't have to think twice about hugging you from behind and leaving a feather-light kiss on your neck. He didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms when he woke up before you.
He did however wake up in shock and almost jumped out of bed when one morning he realized he had sleepily pressed his erection against your thigh. Having woken up before him, you had noticed it, too. You could have easily moved away but found no reason to do so.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured as he moved away from you, his voice still sounding raspy from his slumber.
“You don’t have to apologize for that, Spencer. I know basic biology,” you snickered. “Now come back here.”
Hesitantly, he moved back towards your open arms. The warmth you radiated was too hard to resist so it took very little convincing for him to find his place inside your embrace again.
Gentle fingertips danced along his arms, making him hum in contentment. It had always amazed you how his skin felt so particularly soft and tender in the morning. His curls hung unruly from his head and you couldn't resist intertwining your fingers with them.
You thought back to the many times you had woken up like this. Back then when it still was normal for your hands to become curious enough to explore every curve and dip of each other’s bodies.
It was odd to think about before. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime away, other times it felt like nothing had ever changed. It made you feel like the man who hurt you had the power to bring a new time reckoning upon you. You didn't want him to.
It only spurred you further on to fully reclaim your body again.
Your fingers found Spencer’s jaw to tilt his head just enough for you to be able to kiss him. His lips felt so soft as he slowly reciprocated your actions. It was sweet and innocent at first but your desire to feel more of him only grew the longer you kissed. Slightly shifting your leg you could feel his hardness again, making him whimper at the sudden pressure against it.
As your hand found its way under his shirt, you brushed over the softness of his tummy. Shaking fingertips followed the trail of hair leading further down before changing their direction and moving upwards to feel his chest. The beating of his heart was faster than usual, almost erratic.
With cautious motions he mirrored your eagerness and let his palm wander beneath your shirt as well. You deepened the kiss when you felt his fingers wander over your waist, leaving goosebumps on their path. Spencer became hungry, almost desperate as his tongue brushed over yours, melting into you in a way he hadn’t for too long.
It was what you longed for too, what you had been hoping to finally be ready for.
Then he touched your breast and it all came crashing down again.
“Stop!”
Healing really wasn’t linear.
In an instant Spencer retracted his hand and leaned back to give you some space. Widened eyes looked back at him and it took both of you a second to realize what had just happened. Before he could apologize, you did.
“I’m sorry… I really thought I was okay with that.”
For a moment Spencer closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he looked at you again, a soft expression on his face. “Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize for that,” he cooed.
Unlike other times, you were able to calm down quickly. Instead of pushing your husband further away, you still yearned for his proximity. He seemed surprised when you moved closer to him again to lay your head down on his chest. Content to still have the privilege to hold you close, he wrapped his arms around you before a relieved sigh fell from his lips.
There was no need to leave the comfort of your shared bed just yet, so you just lay there together, basking in each other’s warmth.
Spencer placed a gentle kiss into your hair before breathing, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
You tried your best to be kind to yourself in that moment. It was a learning opportunity for you. Just a few weeks ago lying close to your husband like that was unthinkable. Even if they felt like baby steps at the time, it was still progress.
The images of recent intimate encounters flooded your mind and let a pleasant calmness spread through your body. Spencer’s kisses tasted sweet and made you feel insatiable, always longing for more. Feeling his skin pressed against yours as he held you close in the bathtub enveloped you in a safe feeling unlike anything else.
You thought back to those rare moments when you considered taking things further lately, just like you had tried just now. There was something you had wondered about.
“I have noticed that when we cuddle…,” you began your sentence, unsure of how to continue. “Even when we’re naked in the bathtub together, you uhm… never get aroused? That was very different before.”
Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he let out an awkward laugh. “I try really hard not to. I think about baseball a lot.”
His response confused you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raised your eyebrows at him. “You think about baseball when we’re taking baths together? You don’t even like sports.”
Spencer just shrugged and added, “Sometimes I try to solve equations, too.”
“Please don’t do that anymore,” you pleaded as you laid back down beside him. “It makes me feel good to see you’re still interested in me.”
“Of course I am still interested. I just really do not want to make you uncomfortable or feel pressured in any way.”
Your words were genuine when you said, “I don’t think that will happen. I actually really liked seeing you in all of your morning glory earlier.”
Your husband smiled at you. “Yeah?”
A smirk formed on your face. “It reminded me of the countless times we were both late for work because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves after waking up.”
“That was fun,” Spencer chuckled. “What wasn’t fun though was the conversation I had to have with Hotch after being late four days in a row.”
His words made you laugh, too. Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, your husband hesitantly asked, “Can I ask you something?”
Tilting your head to find his eyes, you responded, “Of course.”
“You don’t have to answer this but I’m wondering… Do you ever get aroused in those moments, too?”
You were used to talking openly about intimacy with your husband, that had always been a normal part of your relationship. His question didn't feel odd and you wanted to respond to it.
For a long time after what happened, your longing to feel his nearness wasn’t connected to any sexual desires. At times you even felt like your libido had gotten lost entirely. Recently that had changed.
More and more you had become aware of the little spark inside you that was ignited when you were with him. It was very different from the burning flame that was there before but your desire grew each time you were together.
“Lately, yes,” you sincerely answered. Thinking about it some more, you decided to share another detail with him. “I even started uhm… touching myself again.”
Spencer seemed a little surprised by your response. “You did? That's good to hear.” His palm brushed gently over your arm when he added, “I can imagine that's a good way to feel a connection to your body and your needs.”
For a second you thought he might start one of his ramblings to share all his knowledge about the health benefits of masturbating. He didn't, though.
“Yeah, it feels nice. Almost normal,” you said instead. “I obviously still have a long way to go when it comes to sex but… I finally feel like I’ll actually get there, eventually.”
“There's no rush,” he reminded you. “We have all the time in the world.”
Your lips met his in a tender kiss. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”
After a few more moments of enjoying each other's company, it was time to get up and get ready for the workday. That night you found yourself tangled up in bed with your husband again.
As you breathed in his scent and felt the heat radiating off his skin, you noticed it again – the little spark inside your chest flared up and spread a tingling sensation through your body.
Your mouth found Spencer's neck to leave a trail of kisses along it, before it moved over his jawline and found his lips at last. He hummed when you kissed him and you could feel his fingertips twitching against your waist.
It didn't take long until you deepened the kiss, a quiet moan slipping through your lips when Spencer’s tongue found yours.
With your body pressed against his you didn't allow any distance between the two of you. It still wasn’t enough for you, though. There was too much fabric in the way of really feeling close to him.
Your hand moved to the hem of his shirt to grip it and impatiently push it upwards. Spencer moved with you as you pulled it over his head. When your fingers moved to the waistband of his pajama pants next, he interrupted the kiss to find your eyes.
A smile was painted over your face when you nodded, reassuring him that you were okay. You weren’t sure yet where exactly this was going but you felt safe enough to explore your options.
“We can stop or slow down at any point,” he reminded you.
“I know.”
After kissing him again, you sat up so you could continue undressing him. Slowly you pulled down his pants, an audible breath falling from your lips when you saw he was already half-hard.
Spencer scanned your face for any sign of discomfort but found none. What he saw instead was excitement and curiosity. It made him smile.
He sat up and brushed his hands over the fabric of your shirt. By lifting your arms over your head you gave him the sign he needed to remove the piece of fabric. He gently motioned for you to lay back down before he made contact with your hips, carefully brushing over your pajama shorts.
There was no hesitation to be found when you lifted your hips for him to pull them down, without ever breaking eye contact. You thought about how different this situation was from being naked with him in the bathtub. Some parts of you remained hidden from him even then.
You wanted him to see you, even when being exposed to him like that still felt a little scary.
After he had dropped the last piece of clothing on the floor, you dared to open your thighs for him to see every part of you. A rosy shade spread over his cheeks as he dared to look at you. It reminded you of when you were with him for the very first time many years ago.
Just like then, he breathed, “You're so beautiful.”
You could feel how some arousal had already gathered at your center and wondered if Spencer could see the glistening. By the way his pupils dilated you had a hunch that he did.
Then, after he had fully taken in your beauty, it was as if he was frozen in place. He used to be so confident in situations like that, knowing your body better than his own and never questioning his next move. Things were very different now and you both sensed it.
His eyes met yours and it became obvious how unsure he was of how to proceed.
Opening your arms, you cooed, “Come here, love.”
He seemed relieved when he lay back down beside you again. You wanted to kiss him but he hesitated.
After a moment, he suggested, “I think it would be helpful if you talked to me more. I need you to tell me exactly what you want to do.”
“I’m figuring this out as we go, too,” you explained. “Right now I don't know where this is going. I only know that I really want to kiss you.”
His nose brushed against yours. “I would really like that, too.”
Just a split second later you got lost in another kiss. The way your bodies were pressed against one another while your lips were connected let you briefly forget where your body ended and his began. After shifting your position, you became well aware of that again.
Spencer was fully hard now and his erection was firmly pressed against your thigh. You moved your leg slightly, prompting him to whimper into your mouth. The hand on your waist moved down to your hip and his fingertips pressed into your skin.
“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. “Can we slow down for a moment?”
His grip on your hip lightened immediately before he moved his hand back up to your waist. Spencer placed one last peck on your mouth and pulled back. “Do you want to stop?”
You shook your head. “No, I just need a little break. To make sure it doesn't get too much.”
The truth was that you felt really good in that moment. Excited, loved and so, so turned on. It just felt safer to take things slowly. Gently you pushed against his shoulder until he was lying on his back. You found your home inside his arms.
Your lips grazed over his cheek as you breathed, “How are you feeling, Spencer?”
He chuckled at your question. “You have no idea how good I’m feeling right now.”
As you let your head rest on his shoulder, you dared to look down at his body. The extent of his desire laid on his stomach and you noticed how a bead of precum had formed at his tip. Your fingers itched to touch him, to remember how hot and heavy his cock always felt inside your palm.
A curious hand made its way down his chest, over the side of his stomach, brushing along his thigh. For a second you hesitated but then you let your palm hover over his hardness.
Then you felt a pit form in your stomach and decided to retract your hand again. It might have just been your nervousness but that didn't change the fact that you couldn't continue in this moment.
Your husband had watched each of your motions intently. It was obvious that he was burning to find relief.
Tilting your head to find his eyes, you purred, “I want you to feel good.”
“It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to,” he reminded you.
You knew that, of course. There was still something else you could do together.
As you began kissing his neck, his throat vibrated under your lips and a moan escaped his mouth. Then, you whispered into his ear, “I want you to touch yourself.”
Spencer’s eyes widened at your request and the rosy color on his cheeks turned a shade darker. It seemed like he needed a little more encouragement, so you lay back down inside his arm and opened your legs to give yourself access.
“Okay, I’ll start,” you teased as you let your hand wander down your own body.
Mesmerized by the sight, his eyes followed the path of your fingers. When you parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot, Spencer hissed a curse.
The honeyed wetness between your legs made it easy for your fingertips to move through your folds. It felt relieving to touch yourself like that. Just like Spencer you were yearning for release.
When your husband heard your heavy sighs as you pleasured yourself, he couldn't hold back anymore. You watched as his hand found his cock, a view that let your heart pound inside your chest.
First, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and squeezed, prompting droplets of his arousal to run down his tip. Then, he swiped his thumb over the leaking head before he slowly began moving up and down. Your mouth hung open as you watched that sinful scene unfold in front of you.
As Spencer accelerated the pace of his fist, sounds of pleasure filled the room. His eyebrows were scrunched up and desperation was written all over his face.
He had never looked more beautiful.
Distracted by the mesmerizing view, the hand at your core stopped moving. Instead of continuing, you let it wander away from your body to touch Spencer’s thigh. Before you could overthink it, your hand kept moving to his center.
A heavy breath fell from his lips as your fingertips cautiously brushed over the velvety skin of his balls, making his body jerk underneath you. Smiling to yourself, you remembered how sensitive he was.
Spencer stopped moving his hand, waiting to see how you’d proceed. When you touched the soft curls at his base, he whimpered. It was then that you realized that you were not scared anymore and that your nervousness had turned into excitement.
“Can I continue?”
Spencer audibly gulped before removing his hand. “Yes… please.”
When you wrapped your fingers around his length, both of you moaned in unison. Holding him in your hand like that felt both familiar and novel at the same time. You started moving your palm and quickly remembered how exactly he liked to be touched.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels good!”
With all the built-up tension and those months of abstinence, it only took a few moments until Spencer was getting close to reaching his point of no return. Familiar with all the telltale signs of his impending climax, you continued caressing him. Coming closer to his undoing, his cock twitched inside your palm and his entire body started quivering.
His release began spilling over your hand and onto his stomach while he kept pulsing against your fingers. You kissed his jaw and his neck before you reached for the tissues on your nightstand to do some damage control of the mess you had created.
Your husband’s chest was still heaving when you finished cleaning him up. Concern was written all over his face when he found your eyes.
He pulled you back into his embrace as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah I am. That was really fun,” you snickered.
Spencer's hand brushed over your back as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”
The truth was that your entire body was aching for his touch. You could feel the heat burning between your legs and were aware that your arousal had started coating the insides of your thighs. It had been a long time since you’d felt so turned on.
And yet, the thought of him actually doing something about it made you nervous.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I would like to kiss you again, though.”
He let out a breathy laugh before finding your mouth once more. Feeling his lips on yours only blazed up the fire burning inside you. You shifted your position until you were hovering over your husband, one of his thighs pressed between yours.
Tentatively you began rocking your hips against his leg, sighing as you realized how pleasant the friction was.
“Is that okay?” You breathed against his lips as you kept moving.
“More than okay,” he reassured you. “Use my body however you like.”
You sat up as you ground against his skin, feeling him tense his thigh underneath you. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them on your hips so he could help you move. Soon you had created a mess on his leg as you spread your wetness along his skin.
With your entire entire body twitching, your motions became erratic. Looking down at Spencer, you found him staring at you with lust-filled eyes and a wicked grin painted over his face.
As you danced along the edge of euphoria, you forgot your surroundings. It was only you and him right then. “I love you,” you whimpered and before your husband could respond, you collapsed into his arms as pleasure overcame you. You kept pressing your core against his leg as your whole body shook.
Spencer held you firmly inside his arms as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you more.”
After your heart rate had come down to a normal frequency and you weren’t panting anymore, you kissed your husband.
“How are you feeling?” He wanted to know.
“Good. And also a little sticky,” you snickered, hinting at the mess you had created between your legs.
“Yeah, me too,” Spencer chuckled. “How about I run us a bath so we can get cleaned up?”
The prospect of that made your heart flutter. “That sounds wonderful.”
Author's Note: Writing this story took me two years and I am so relieved I was finally able to get it to paper. I hope reading it felt as cathartic for you as writing it was for me. Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate a reblog and a comment.
Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings
Pov: you're reading fanfiction and suddenly y/n starts to call him daddy
JUST NECESSARY
Baby Blues
Pairing - Sylus x f!MC
Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.
Word count - 2.7k
⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.
Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.
It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.
You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.
It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.
Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.
Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.
That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.
He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts.
Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.
You just wished she would settle with both parents.
It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.
“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.
Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.
“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.
You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.
“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”
You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”
Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”
He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.
You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.
Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.
He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.
He wanted to help.
The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.
You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.
“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”
Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”
“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself.
You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.
“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.
It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.
You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.
“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”
You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.
He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly.
You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.
“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.
Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence.
This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.
“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”
Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”
You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.”
“Eat.”
The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”
He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.
Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.
Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.
“Knows what?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.
His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”
“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”
The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”
You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.
You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”
His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.
You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.
“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”
“Unsafe?”
His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.
You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.
“Eat.”
Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.
You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.
Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.
After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”
You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.
Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?
“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”
The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.
Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.
“Don’t cry—”
“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”
He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.
The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.
He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”
“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”
He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.
“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.
Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.
“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.
And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.
Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.
“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”
He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.
Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.
A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️
he tried to LIFT HIMSELF UP FOR HER
being fucked so hard from behind that you collapse forward and then they lean over you and use their weight to keep you completely pinned so you can’t do anything but whine and take it
psychotic!obsessed ex!bf simon riley
tears skid over your collarbone, melting into your pores till sympathy bubbles up onto the surface. he’s breaking down, like he always did, forcing you to see past his mistakes, past the disgust of his protectiveness, his psychotic rage.
“please, please, mama,” he sobs, tongue cleaning up the salty mess he leaves behind. hips chasing a steady pace, one that knocks any sense out of your head, one that melts you into a dizzy mess. “i’m better… i’ll be better, please, i need you. i- i love you, baby.”
and his nails split your skin, grounding deep within your soft flesh to keep himself level. he’s fucking into you desperately, letting himself drip deep within you, till you get the memo, till he knocks you up and traps you to him with a sweet baby.
you have to stay, you have to be with him. you couldn’t run, you couldn’t leave. he would make sure of that. and he’s losing himself, head spinning in a feral mess. his neurons split, a deep seated, demented rage suddenly rushing through his arteries, zinging his nerve endings.
and he’s grabbing at your cheeks with shaky hands, smothering and smearing his lips over yours. and when your tongue presses to his, his lips tilt, into that sweet downward smile, one that knows he won, one that strikes his heart in adrenaline. and his personality cracks, tears drying up till a new creation crawls from the crevasses of his being.
“i don’t even care if you love me,” he growls, tears fading till his teeth are snapping, till his pupils dilate in an angry, red mess. one that has your heart stilling, one that has your hips pressing to meet his. he was addicting, you couldn’t fight the corruption, you could only fill his void.
n he’s laughing above you, leaning down to huff in your face. he presses his hand to the column of your throat, grinning in a melting, hazy mess as he pins you by the throat down to the bed. “you’re mine, you got that yet, huh? you try to run, i will find you. don’t make me hurt you, baby, please.”
so who’s therapist has some free time? 😊
p!link collection 6 👻🚬🧢🧼🪦🗡🐺🦿🦌🤠 (🌽 links)
ghost 👻
when ghost gets down to business you'll end up a moaning and panting mess -mlm-
ghost using the rest of 141's cum as lube, even after he made them wear condoms to fuck you
ghost won't rip you pretty lingerie, but he can fuck your ass mercilessly
when simon's away from home for some time, he can't help but cum pathetically at the warmth of your pussy
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
price 🚬
old bastard he is, he had you fooled, but he ends up overstimulating your pussy by eating you out
price making a beautiful painting out of your stomach using his cum
oh to experience some of that rough unhinged price, being slapped and dirty talked to as he makes you jerk him off
seeing you, pregnant and clad in his clothes, makes price instantly hard
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
gaz 🧢
if you tell gaz you are going to shower, he will for sure be hopping in, and not exacly to help you get clean
gaz using that finger and tongue combo until he can't pull any more orgasms from your cunt
gaz is a horny drunk, fucking you messy in the bathroom after a few extra pints
sometimes gaz has to pull some tricks so he doesn't cum before you do
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
soap 🧼
please do peg soap unit he turns into a loud leaky mess
soap is exactly where he wants to be: kneeling at your feel, leashed and eating your cunt
if soap sees a lovely plug in your ass, he will go fucking feral
after the first time, soap actively seeks the feeling of your fingers inside of his ass
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
graves 🪦
it's always the southern accent as graves calls you a needy whore what turns you into a mess
when graves latches onto your pussy, he sin't getting off until you cum in his mouth
for graves, the place doesn't matter. actually much better if he gets caught plowing into you in the car
graves like messed up shit, like that one 'forced anal' scenario, with you tied up
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
konig 🗡
konig is so desperate and horny that he can't keep his hips still as he fucks his fleshlight
fucking pervert konig is, adding a bit of 'extra salty cream' on tope of some lovely pancakes he made you
konig's all rough and imposing until he's under you getting the fuck edged out of his cock
konig's an eager pup so willing to worship your pussy, without a care of the messes he makes
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
makarov 🐺
makarov is a 100% a hole inspection kind of man
hear me out: makarov getting folded like a fucking pretzel and getting his ass fucked
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
alejandro🤠
alejandro eats like a man starved, but once he's done eating your pussy, he may need a lil' help with his boner
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
rudy 🦌
rudy coming back home after almost fucking you into a coma, only to fuck you all over again
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
alex 🦿
tell alex you are needy and he won't even think twice before pulling you into the bathroom and fingering you dumb
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
nikolai
nikolai always lays with his tempting ass on full show, so might as well get a taste -mlm-
oh to have nikolai's hairy thighs plaping against yours as he fuck you in doggy
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
keeegan
keegan is so into choking. using his hold on your throat to fuck you deeper
reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead
POV : you have been scrolling for the past hour and all you see is SMUT
Please...life is lot more than fucking🙏🏻
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English is not my first language (advance notice) I'm new to this and I'd like to start as a writer También hablo español 🙃 🇦🇷
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