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reidrum · 12 days

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all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend.

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights.

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him. you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly.

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately.

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.”

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot

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babyyhoneyyy · 25 days

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How’s your head? H.S

(I wanna kiss your neck pt.1)

She never thought she’d be into something like this.

Something which reduced her to such a filthy, whiney mess.

That too from her best friend.

Or,

Harry is Y/N’s best friend, and he just wants the best for her.

Content warning: mature content.

Word count: 3.8K

When Y/N told Harry she wanted to hang out with him Friday afternoon, she didn’t quite think it would end up like this.

The original plan was to essentially do nothing all night. After a long, tiring week at work, nothing satisfied Y/N more than lazing around on her couch and snacking on all the chocolate sitting in her pantry she had been fantasising about having while at her desk. It was always nice to have someone do these things with you, though, where both parties could lie in silence, munch on snacks and glue their eyes to the television to forget everything that happened in the past workdays.

Y/N quickly realised Harry was the perfect person for this. He didn’t have much going on for him either so there was no reason why he would turn down a night of gorging Y/N’s pantry and flopping over her hunched body on the sofa so they could watch whatever show she was recently obsessing over.

And that was how the night started.

Harry came over at about 7, with a pizza for takeaway and a large soda, and claimed the furthest right corner of the couch, snuggled up with Y/N’s cat Lola. While Lola took her time sniffing Harry’s fingers and tentatively licking his knuckles, Y/N warmed up some popcorn and ruffled Harry’s hair as she walked past him to her spot on the other end of the sofa. “Heeeeeey,” he began, a furrow in his brows, “you can’t just do that. I put a lot of work into making it look this good.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “if it looks like that after all the work I’m afraid you’re not doing enough, Harry.” He didn’t say anything, only scoffed and shoved her legs slightly from where she had swung them on his lap, “you need to pull that stick out of your ass. Let off some steam or something.”

“Right and do you want to volunteer as my punching bag?” She retorted. She wasn’t really trying to be mean, a teasing grin on her lips when he feigned offence once more, “that’s not what I meant. There are other ways to release tension, you know,” he said.

“Harry, if you want me to drop-kick you, just say i—“

“What I want is for you to go out and get a good dicking so you can stop being such a menace to me.”

“I’m not being a menace, this is just how I am. I thought you’d know that by now.” Y/N’s eyes widen, looking at him like she can’t believe he hadn’t realised her quip-y and teasing comments have been entirely satire. “Menace or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been on edge lately and could go for an orgasm not brought to you by your vibrator.”

“Harry!”

”What? I’m just saying,” he said through a smirk. Y/N’s eyes narrow at his dishevelled sight, his hair just touching his collarbones and his black sweater swallowing him whole. “My orgasms are perfectly fine, thank you. And my vibrator does a very good job at helping me ‘let off steam’.”

He sighs, almost mockingly. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“Why would I tell you?”

”Because I’m your friend. I promise I’m just trying to help,” he says sincerely. The dim lighting of the living room made his eyes sparkle and Y/N avoided eye contact by fiddling with her fingers.

God, there was just something about the fucker that made a person want to spill every secret before his jade gaze. “I dunno. Maybe five, six months?”

“Jesus Christ Y/N, what the fuck? Weren’t you seeing Daniel like 3 weeks ago?” His voice goes up a few octaves, looking at her all bewildered. “It’s Danny,” she corrected him, “and I stopped texting him a while back. He was a bore in real life and quite frankly, a bore in bed.” Danny was one of Y/N’s coworkers' brothers who she had tried setting her up with, and Y/N did have some fun with him at first. It was always nice having someone to flirt with back and forth and get compliments from every now and then but he just never scratched that itch for Y/N. She ended up ghosting him 2 dates in and she knows that's a dick move, but really a second more of listening to him go on and on about his mum and how much his new PC game cost would make Y/N want to gauge out her own eyeballs with a dinner fork.

“Did he ever get you off?” Harry asked. Y/N was incredibly appalled, not appreciating his prying hands all over her sex life. Or lack thereof. “No and that’s none of your business anyway, jeez.”

“There you go again, snapping at me. You know if you’ll ask me nicely I’ll stop.” He sat up against the arm rest, fingers grazing her bare leg from when he pulled it back on his lap. Y/N knew she could ask him to stop asking her all these questions and he would, but was it really a conversation with her if she wasn’t being at least a little bit hard to read?

Besides, maybe it would do her some good talking about it and whatever advice he had might actually help her out. Harry seemed to be more than well-equipped when it came to charming the heck out of someone and working his way into their pants. “Sorry,” she sighed, rubbing her eye, “no, he didn’t get me off. We never actually had sex, I just gave him a blowie once and he tried to go down on me.”

Harry smiled softly knowing he got her to crack and squeezed her calf, “tried?” He knew he was treading on dangerous waters here, wedging his fingers between Y/N’s brain and asking her to recall her time with Danny.

“Yes, tried. It was fucking awful.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, busying herself with the strings on her hoodie, “and he definitely came in your mouth?” Y/N’s cheeks went pink, and she quickly pulled her legs away from him, “Harry!” Her voice was high pitched and defensive, and while her mind told her that maybe confiding all this in Harry isn’t the smartest thing, her heart wanted to see where an odd conversation like this could lead.

“I’m just asking!”

She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Well fuck, Y/N, sorry to say it but you were seeing an absolute douche.” Harry makes this diagnosis like Y/N didn’t already know, his fingers reaching for her legs again, tugging them onto his thighs with a strength that made her tummy flip. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I know. It was fun but I didn’t want anything more with him.”

“Good. But you still need a good fuck. One where you actually get to come and don’t come back home all high and dry.”

Y/N gasps, trying to get off him again but Harry holds her down, laughing at her bright red embarrassed face, “you’re such a dick I hate you.”

His dimples dug deep into the soft of his cheeks, and he pulled her legs so she was sitting much closer to him. Her ass touched the edge of his thighs and she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, making her skin even hotter. Y/N remained frowning, shoving his chest when he wouldn’t stop giggling, “stop laughing, Harry!” For obvious reasons that doesn’t work and the little genuine crink in her eyebrows had him almost cooing and smiling wide at the same time. When she didn’t let up the frown and tried to move back to her spot, Harry only grabbed her hips and pulled her back, close enough that her ass was now on top of his thighs, “okay, okay I’m sorry. You’ve got a really funny angry face.”

Y/N was near seething at this point, gearing up for an attack, “I’ll show you an angry face,” she tried lunging for his hair again but very quickly realised she failed to take into consideration her position when he instantly caught her wrists in between his long fingers, holding them tight but not enough to hurt her, “okay, John Cena let’s take a breather.”

God, was he able to make her skin absolutely crawl at times. He was still holding her wrists when he brought them down, watching her blazingly. She didn’t realise how far she had shuffled into his lap and how close his face was to hers until now. Until she could smell the strawberry mints he was sucking on on his breath.

She made a half-hearted attempt to smack his chest, but his hold only tightened around her, suddenly dragging her even closer to him over the soft fabric of his sweats. Y/N held her breath. He was too close to her, his nose daring to touch hers. She’d never been in such a vulnerable position with him and she might possibly just faint if he didn’t stop staring at her mouth and then her eyes, flicking his gaze between the two like he couldn’t decide where to settle.

She moved her head back, trying to create some space between the pair, “what are you doing Harry.” The sound she makes is an odd one— one that she doesn’t make often and it’s desperate and needy, akin to a weepy whine. His fingers finally loosened enough for her to break free and she quickly moved her face away from his where it seems like it was magnetically pulling her closer and closer.

Harry didn’t say anything for a while and Y/N found herself frozen in her spot, still right on his lap. “What’s going on here, hmm?” He said, glancing down.

Y/N followed his gaze, confused at first and it took her a moment to realise what he was insinuating. His fingers grazed her hips. “What’s got you all squirmy on my lap?”

He was still staring right into her eyes, making her go crazy with the stolen glances at her lips with every passing second. Meanwhile Y/N’s chest heaved and she unintentionally shuffles again, “fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s voice was deep and groan-y, vibrating through her body when his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’m not squirmy, Harry shut up.” She was lying right to his face and her poor attempt at covering her actions made him laugh again. The sound was teasing, nothing like the light-hearted giggles spilling from his lips when he found her angry face amusing.

“You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.” His fingers fell to her upper thighs, which he gripped harshly. Only then when she couldn’t move did Y/N realise she really was practically rubbing herself against him, milking even the slightest pressure against her heat from his warm, pliant lap. Her face pinkened again, embarrassment coursing through her veins and making her want to dig a hole and hide in it forever. She couldn’t believe what she had just been caught doing.

Y/N expected him to fully push her off his lap, disgusted by her basically humping his leg, but he didn’t.

Instead, he dug his fingers into her skin and slowly helped her move back and forth, pushing her down just slightly to give her the friction she was searching for. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in another little whine.

“Will you let me, then?” His eyes searched hers, gaze sincere, though Y/N didn’t know what he was implying, only half listening to him. She was clearly preoccupied with the delicious pressure pressing right up against her clothed clit.

“What?”

Harry laughed, a large, ringed hand slipping over her ass to squeeze lightly. “I said, will you let me make you feel good? Help you relax? Have you gone dumb already, baby?” Y/N couldn’t really do much other than nod frantically, afraid he might pull away if she didn’t say yes. The pet name melts her even further, paired with the way he was holding her like he was going to swallow her whole made her insides slosh.

She preens under his gaze, now holding the front of his sweater tightly between her fingers. “Yes,” Y/N breathed, “yes please.”

Harry wondered for a second if she was agreeing to being cockdumb or agreeing to him touching her but nonetheless he took it as his queue to push her off his lap and position her the way he wanted.

“I—what, I thought you we—“ Y/N protests, neediness evident in her voice and her hands which chased after his warmth, like she was afraid he was going to leave her be in this desperate state. Harry only pressed on her shoulder until she laid back on her back, hands coming to part her legs so he could fit between them, “shh.” A wet kiss was pressed to her cheek, like comforting a rabid animal, which Y/N was feeling exactly like as she stared at Harry’s frame cowering hers.

His curls hung past his ears and tickled her face when he slotted his hips between her legs so she could continue grinding down on him, “who knew you were such a needy little thing?” Y/N sighed in response. Another suckling kiss was pressed to her jaw, “do you need me to make you feel good, baby? Hmm? Need me to make it better?”

The way he was talking to her made her feral.

She had trouble believing this was the same Harry who irritated her to no end and pushed all her buttons to rile her up. Except this time he was pushing other kinds of buttons, moving his body around hers so perfectly Y/N wondered if this was like second nature to him.

“Yes. Please don’t tease me.” She commanded him and Harry chuckled at her desperation, lips sponging these warm, slow, gooey kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. When she went to sift her fingers through his curly hair, he pulled back to look at her. “You’re so bossy,” he accuses, pulling her thighs further up his hips, “it’s okay though. I’ll fuck the attitude right of you.” He grinded down against her, one strong roll of his bulge against her heat. “Are we going to have sex, Harry?”

“No.” He grinned.

“Why?” Y/N’s eyes crinkled in pain like he just told her her cat died and her lip jutted out in a pout which Harry quickly tucked away with his thumb. “Because,” he started, using that same hand to wrap around her throat, “we need to talk about that before we do anything. Don’t want to lose my best friend, do I?”

His rejection almost made Y/N cry and she would have had Harry not tightened his hand around her jugular. The cold press of his rings sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “Why would you say anything then?” She asked, craning her neck to allow him more room to cover with his palm.

“I said I won’t have sex with you. Didn’t say I wouldn’t make you feel good.”

With that, he took the hand that made a home around her throat and patted her cheek, hard enough that the feeling went straight down to her tummy but soft enough that it didn’t hurt her like someone might think it would. He crawled further down her body, shoving her hoodie up with his hands and exposing her stomach to the cold air of the room. Y/N thinks he was trying to keep up some boundaries, bunching the shirt just below her tits like protecting some kind of modesty and pressing ticklish kisses across her skin and down her belly button. Her body tingled with anticipation, breath bated and eyes glazed as she watched him.

She felt him nuzzle into her tummy and inhale loudly, “you smell so fucking good.” Y/N giggled, taking pride in her extensive shower routine and incessant rubbing of various lotions into her skin, “thank you.”

When his mouth reached the waistband of her tiny shorts he murmured a small, “can I take these off?” To which Y/N hummed in agreement. She couldn’t agree with anything more. If Harry walked up and out of this room right now, Y/N was certain she would die.

Once they’re off, Y/N realised she was completely at his mercy. Her underwear is the only thing protecting her modesty, and with how wet she’s feeling, she doubts there’s anything left to the imagination down there, “would you look at that. You’ve soaked right through.” His fingers toyed with the edge of her wet gusset.

Another embarrassingly desperate sound left her throat and she pushed her hips in the air in search of some friction. Harry delivered a harsh slap to her thigh, “don’t move.”

His stern voice did unimaginable things for her but she complied and tried to stay as still as she could, which seemed like a task for the impossible with the teasing touches Harry delivered to her skin.

She never thought she’d be into something like this.

Something which reduces her to such a filthy, whiney mess.

That too from her best friend.

Harry doesn’t do anything for a while, just admiring how her pussy looked soaked through her panties, playing around with the lace lining of the fabric. He grabbed the gusset and pulled it tight against her so her folds swallow the cotton, “fuck. A little manhandling and this is what happens?” He more so makes a statement rather than asking her, punctuating his words by leaning down to lick a wide, sloppy strip across the cloth. It makes Y/N squeal and attempt to shut her thighs but Harry makes sure to hold her down, biceps bulging.

He pulled back to drop his fingers firmly against her clit, just keeping them there pressed tightly, feeling her heartbeat against the tips. “I thought I told you not to move.”

“Yes, I’m sorry please, please don’t stop.”

He went back to nosing at her covered clit, not making any attempt to wrap his lips around it. At this point Y/N was itching in anticipation, every ounce of her working not to rut her hips in his face and ride his tongue like she wanted to. When he finally touches her again, it's where the wetness pooled, soft suckling kisses over the fabric which made Y/N’s heart and pussy flutter.

She was incredibly frustrated, wanting nothing more than to rip her underwear off and shove his face into her but she held back, not sure if Harry would appreciate that after he made it clear time and time again how he preferred her to remain immobile while he played with her. Instead she waited until he was through with kissing every inch of her and when he finally peeled off her panties, she could practically come just from the prospect of having his mouth on her.

He doesn’t give her a second to think though, because his mouth is unrelenting. Teasing the tip of her button with his tongue before circling his lips around it and suckling in sweet, soft pulses. The sensation has her panting and gasping, squeezing his head between her thighs while one of his arms swung across her hips to keep her down and the other wiggled between the two to push her lips apart in a V shape. With her clit now exposed to the cool air, Harry zeroed in on the nerve and worked magic with his tongue, flicking it up, down, left, right and circling the button with such fevor Y/N could burst.

What electrified the experience was the sounds in the room, which were just sinful.

Her pussy squelched with each suckle Harry gave, making Y/N moan and pull Harry’s curls which in turn had him groaning lowly against her. It was an endless cycle of pornographic music.

When he pulls away from her clit, the pulsing it does is almost amusing, like it was personally begging for Harry’s attention. Instead he kissed down the length of her slit and took his time playing around with her folds, slicking her hole and letting his spit drip down to her ass.

It was so perfect and messy.

Before she knew it, Y/N’s thighs were shaking and Harry’s tongue was back to abuse her poor button. A couple more flicks and a harsh kiss pushed Y/N over the edge, her orgasm washing over her and nearly blinding her. It’s euphoric and the most intense she’s ever felt, no vibrator of hers or cock she’s ever had compared to what she was feeling and even then Harry didn’t let up on her pussy. He continued his assault, now both of his arms locking around her hips to tone down her thrashing. Only when she pushed his forehead away did he finally depart with a final lick across her slit and smiled at her fucked-out state.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and brought it to his lips, sitting up between her legs which she clinked shut. A second passes.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s eyes were shut, an arm thrown across her forehead. “I think so.”

Harry giggled, leaning over her to remove her arm, “how’s it feel?”

“S’good. It was really nice. Thanks.” She was slightly dazed, too far gone to really understand what was going on. Her limbs felt like jell-o and she let Harry kiss her cheek again before lending her a hand to help her sit up. “I’m glad. Come on now. We need to clean you up.”

She doesn't know how she stood up from that godforsaken couch and how she made it to the bathroom, Lola returning from her retreat to her bedroom to wind around her ankles. Harry bent down to pet between her ears, “hello babydoll. Did you miss me?” He cooed.

She looked down at the pair and Harry easily sensed her wary gaze. A dashing smile was sent her way. “Do you need me to get you some underwear? Or are you afraid I’ll stumble across your array of sex toys?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. He was still the Harry she knew before he gave her the best head she ever received.

“You’re such a dick.”

“A dick that gave you the best orgasm of your life.” She couldn’t even argue with him on that. Instead, she flipped him off and disappeared into her room. Once she was all changed and wearing a fresh pair of undies and shorts, she walked out to see Harry passed out on the couch with Lola snuggled into his throat. It was then when her head finally returned to the ground and she realised the gravity of the situation.

The looming prospect of a long, painful chat in the morning hung over Y/N like a dark cloud, filling her with a gnawing sense of dread she suddenly couldn’t seem to shake.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Hiiiii i hope you like this one, first time posting in a long time so feeling a little nervous omg … leave feedback if you have any!!! Mwuahh

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #one direction fanfiction #writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles Drabble #Harry styles au #bloobharry

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eleganzadellarosa · 2 months

Text

Can’t Do It Like Me

pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader

genre: Smut (you already know)

warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)

word count: 4.1K+

A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.

Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.

Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.

But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.

Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.

“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”

He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.

Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.

“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.

You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.

It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.

"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.

buzz buzz

You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.

"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.

He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."

"Oh is he an asshole or something?"

"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.

You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.

Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.

San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.

He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.

He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.

“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.

“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”

It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.

“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”

At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”

He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.

Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.

After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.

“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”

“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.

“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”

He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”

If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.

But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.

This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.

"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.

Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.

He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.

"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”

He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.

You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.

You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.

“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"

He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.

“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”

“San…” he put a finger to your lips.

“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.

So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.

A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”

He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.

“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”

He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.

Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.

“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”

You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.

“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.

He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.

“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.

As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.

“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.

“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.

“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”

“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.

He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.

“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."

He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.

“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”

You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.

There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.

“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.

San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”

He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.

“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.

“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”

You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.

"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.

The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.

"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.

"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.

By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"

He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."

"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"

"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."

And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.

#san smut #choi san smut #choi san #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san

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tojikai · 9 months

Text

Sundered 8: BRAKES

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 6.7k

But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.

“Did you find it?” Before Satoru could even answer, you came jogging in. Your gaze shifted between him and Toji, curious as you noticed the awkward silence that took over when you approached. Or…has it been there before you came? “What is it?” You asked, puzzled. Walking inside, your eyes met Satoru’s. He shook his head, giving a small smile before answering.

“Nothing. Toji was just saying that we should check Yui’s things to make sure we didn’t forget anything else.” You could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, eyes half blinking. “Well yeah, I did. Her extra shirt was still on the hanger. I ironed it earlier.” You walked past him, smiling at Toji before you jogged upstairs, making the two men relax.

“Y-yeah, of course. I could free my schedule, just tell me the details.” Satoru’s voice was much lower; quieter when he was sure that you were out of earshot. Toji nodded, blinking as he took a deep breath. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her.” Satoru doesn’t know why he hid it from you, but he felt like it would only worry you.

But could he really not tell you about it? He doesn’t want to lie to you.

“You know, it could only worry her; she probably doesn’t even trust us in the same room together.” He added as if sensing Satoru’s doubts. He’s got a point, but still, Satoru wants your relationship to be transparent. Yes, he still hasn’t told you about what happened with Naomi and his mother but that’s a different case.

“Just send me when and where.” Satoru took a deep breath, pulling out a calling card before quickly handing it to Toji as he kept an eye on the hallway to make sure you didn’t see any of it. “Though, she probably won’t be happy about not being informed of this-” Footsteps can be heard as you appear with the clothing item in your hand.

“Why didn’t you go to Yui? Let’s go.” You gave Toji a quick kiss and goodbye before walking out the door, looking back at him just to make sure that he was already after you. And he is, but not without glancing at Toji who only nodded at him. “I was waiting for you, I could see the car from there.” He explained, opening the car door for you.

“Yaaaay Mama! Dada!” The little girl put her hands up, opening and closing her chubby fingers, “Nummy!” She squealed louder as Satoru wiggled the pacifier in his hands, legs kicking as she desperately tried to grab it. “What’s my name?” He tried to keep the object away from her.

“Toru! Dada Toru!” She pushed on her chair, trying to move closer to her dad. Satoru laughed, letting her take the pacifier in her small hands. “Here’s your Nummy.” He cooed before putting on his seatbelt, ready to drive. You looked at him through the rearview mirror, meeting his gaze for a split second before you looked away.

“What is it?” He asked you, raising his brows as he drove. You shook your head, “Nothing, I was just…I was wondering if you and Toji get along well now.” You didn’t really want to ask this to Toji because he still gets grumpy at the mere mention of Satoru’s name in your conversations, which can’t be helped since they’re almost always about Yui.

“I think…” He let out a small laugh at the end of his short answer. For a second, he thought about telling you of his conversation with Toji but— ‘It could only worry her.’ His words reverberated in his head, making him bite his lip, waiting for your reaction. “Okay. It’ll get better, I guess.” You let out a large breath, lightly slapping your thighs with your hands.

“I’ll… I’m really trying to be less annoying to him. I know that it’s uncomfortable for the both of you.” He was trying to find the right words to assure you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s threatening your new relationship. Your new happiness.

“And that he probably doesn’t even want you around me even for a minute and that’s why I was saying that we should lessen—” You turned to look at him, making him pause as he quickly glanced at you. He was worried that he may have said something wrong or hurtful to you. That’s the last thing he wants.

“Satoru.” You licked your lips, feeling bad that he was probably feeling the same way you did when he was still with Naomi. Probably much worse because he’s also regretting so many things at the same time. “We don’t have to do that. We do it for Yui, I could talk about it with Toji. I will.” You start to look back on how your ‘talks’ with him went.

But if it’s for Yui, you’re determined to make him understand and make all of this work.

“We can’t give Yui the family she deserves.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you leaned your elbow on the car window, massaging your temple. “But I don’t want her to feel that.” Thinking about the time scares you; how fast it goes, how quickly it changes. You fear that you’ll wake up one day and you won’t have answers to her questions.

“Hey…” You felt a hand on yours, noticing the car stop. You turned your head at Satoru, only noticing how blurry your vision has gotten. “You’re already doing so many things for her. She won’t feel that. That’s why I’m still here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone even if we’re not with each other.”

In Satoru’s head, he doesn’t like that you’re not with each other. But if that’s what heals you from everything he’s put you through, then so be it. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t be there for you; only heaven knows how much he wants to give you everything if only you allow it.

But he’s not that lucky anymore.

It took you a minute to snatch your hand away, probably just needing the warmth that it provided you in that vulnerable time, but you still did. “Sorry,” He murmured as you turned away, wiping under your eyes quickly. “Did you have breakfast? I’ll get us something.” He cleared his throat, thinking about how Toji probably cooked breakfast for you.

“I’ll just have coffee–“ You sat up straight, getting cut off by your baby as she struggled to get out of her seat. “Mama! Ma!” She whined, kicking her feet as she reached up to you and pointing outside. “Do you want something, Miss?” Turning her attention to Satoru. “She wants to go inside.” You spoke, removing your seatbelt.

“Alright, come on.” You stepped out of the car to get her, letting Satoru take her small bag. She squealed at the drawing of the cartoon on the wall, making you kiss her cheek. “That’s why she wanted to go inside.” Satoru laughed, letting you walk in first. Greeted by the employee as you scanned their menu, your daughter started pointing.

“Such a cute baby,” An old woman beside you said, “Looks very much like the Dad.” She laughed, making Satoru pat the little girl’s head, proud. “Thank you, Ma’am. She’s a mini of him.” You joked, allowing the old lady to play with your child as you conversed with the employee.

For some reason, the interaction made you feel warm. It’s been a while since you felt like this when going out with them. You used to avoid these situations with him due to how things were, but lately, your guard’s been down around him. Maybe it’s because you can see with your own eyes how much he changed.

If only he was like this before, would things have been better?

“How old is she?” The old woman’s voice sounded far, drowned by your thoughts. “She’s 2, ma’am.” You could feel Satoru’s hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes met his, overflowing with concern as he tried to keep a conversation with the woman until she left.

“You ok?” He spoke, adjusting Yui on the baby seat. “You zoned out earlier.” He made sure to pull the chair for you before going to his. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile, “It’s nothing, just trying to recall if I packed everything she needs.” It wasn’t convincing, but Satoru felt like he’d be meddling too much if he asked further.

Maybe he really should not add up to the things you’re worrying about.

———————————————————

“What is it about?” Satoru’s fingers tapped on his jeans, nervous as to what his baby mama's boyfriend was about to ask him. He was worried that it’d have something to do with the time he spent around you. Satoru isn’t sure if it’s possible to reduce that since you have a daughter.

“You know, to be honest, I just want to know how you see things.” Toji started, putting down his mug. “I know what happened between you and Y/N before I came along but I want to know what you were planning to do if I didn’t appear.” Satoru was confused as to why he was asking all of it but his brain started to think back to it, nonetheless.

At that time, he was thinking about marrying Naomi. He saw it as an assurance that he was doing so much better; convinced that she was truly the one for him. Spending a year with her, he was sure that she was the better person for him. What with his daughter calling her mom, he thought that maybe it could put an end to most of his problems with you.

Recalling all of this just made him realize how much worse things could’ve been.

Seeing the pain in your eyes the moment those hurtful words came out of his mouth set all of these plans on fire. You looked shattered; like the tiniest glimmer of hope in your eyes died along with your aching heart, hearing that the man you love regrets everything he had with you.

It almost felt like stepping so abruptly on the brakes that he hit his head from the impact. When you crumbled in front of him that day, you were bare to Satoru. All the feelings, all the pain that you held in your heart were presented before him.

Satoru remembered thinking about why you were like that with him, why you acted indifferent. 'She has always loved me this much. She was just hurt.' And it broke him too. A couple of days after that, he tried. He tried to tell himself that it was just the emotions, that it was just the guilt eating him up and that’s why he couldn’t see anything but you.

But he caught himself thinking about how he’d like to put you back together again piece by piece if he was given a chance.

He didn’t think too much of it; just a poor interpretation of his feelings towards your pain. He thought about his loving girlfriend, he reminded himself that there was someone who willingly put up with him when he was a mess. That’s how it always went. That’s how he pushed the thoughts of you away. With her, her words, her touch, her body.

But it’s never enough when he thinks about how you probably cry yourself to sleep at night, thinking about why you weren’t enough to get the same treatment that he was giving her. That’s when his plans started to falter; like a building threatening to crumble, dust began to shower down on them.

The day he went to your house, he found himself fixing his collar, and his hair, thinking about the words to say to you. And if you’re not there, he thought of ways to get to you. But there Toji stood. With a smug look on his face and marks all over his neck that scream “I just fucked the girl you dreamt about last night.”

That day he wanted to ask him directly what the fuck he think he’s doing, but that wouldn’t seem right, knowing that Satoru’s nothing but a baby daddy to you. That day was a deja vu. All the events that happened between the two of you are being shown to him, and it seems like he’s feeling the pain threefold.

After that, Satoru tried. He tried to tell himself that he just got upset because of how disrespectful Toji was acting. He just couldn’t stand that he acted as if he owned everything in that place, even flexing the hickeys you gave him the other night.

He thought that was the worst he could see that day but for some reason, seeing you in that shirt with marks on your collarbones triggered something in him. A question he didn’t see coming popped up in his brain and along with it was the guilt that he felt for his girlfriend:

Am I too late?

The next thing he knew he was getting up and getting ready for when you pick Yui up from his place. He caught himself pulling at his clothes and pushing his hair back as he waited for you to open your door; like a teenage boy waiting for his crush. He denied himself that he wanted to look good; to look better for you.

Until it all sank in; until he couldn’t handle it any longer. Each time he sees you with Toji, doing things that you should be doing with him, he gets pushed a bit more. He was already getting pulled back towards you again even before he came along but now that he’s beside you, it felt like Satoru’s spiraling back to you at the speed of light.

Then, that night happened. When all the bands that he used to stop himself snapped.

“I would appreciate it if we could be honest with each other. This could greatly affect the decisions I’m about to make.” Toji’s serious voice interrupted Satoru’s memories. He blinked, clearing his vision of him. He stared at the cup with a grim expression, which made Satoru realize the weight of the conversation.

This is not just a conversation, Satoru thought, licking his lips before speaking again.

“I’d…Back then, I was denying what I wanted. I…I was trying to get her back. Not just to make up for all that I said and done.” He rubbed his palms on his pants, seeing Toji lean back on his office chair. “I had a girlfriend, then. Naomi. I didn’t really want to admit to myself that my heart wants to get back with Y/N when I’m with someone so good to me.” He shook his head.

Satoru’s disappointment and anger about what happened between him and Naomi felt like a ton on his chest. She was a good woman to him and it’s true, but thinking about how everything aged; he can’t even bear the thought of her and his memories with her. It’s just sad that it had to end that way.

He can’t help but to blame himself for the actions that she took. He could’ve written a better ending for them.

Satoru heard Toji sigh as he straightened his legs under his table, crossing his arms as he nodded for Satoru to continue. “Then, you appeared. And I don’t know. I don’t even know how it happened but everything that I was feeling about her was rushing into me faster than it used to and maybe…” Satoru panted, shrugging as he gestured with his hands.

He couldn’t believe that he was really talking about this to his baby momma's boyfriend. “It just got me desperate. I told myself I was too slow and I lost my chance and I really did but…” He looked at Toji, wanting to convey his sincerity. “I just want her to be happy. I feel like all I did was ruin things for her. I don’t want to ruin what she has with you.”

It was a tough thing to say for Satoru. The words felt like shards of glass in his heart. It’s not what he wants but if it’s what he must do then he’ll do it. Toji’s silence got him wondering if he was pissed or relieved that Satoru was aware that he was not getting you back as long as he was there. But in Toji’s mind, that’s not the case.

“So you’re saying that you wanted to get her back even before she got with me?” He blinked slowly, trying to comprehend Satoru’s words. “I thought you only started to want her back because you don’t want to see her with someone else.” He didn’t bother filtering the words. He can’t think of a better way to put this.

“It’s always her. Even if I end up with someone else, I need her to know that I had always wanted it to be her.”

Toji didn’t think that Satoru would be this transparent to him about his feelings towards you. There was an eerie look in his eyes as he stared at the open window, a defeated look plastered on his face.

“If I didn’t enter the story, would you still be doing all of this for her now?” Satoru’s eyes were back at him, nodding as he sat straight. “Yes. It would probably take longer than it did but I’m sure that I was bound to fall back into her at some point.” Toji’s brows furrowed, trying to think of what the situation would be like if it were like that.

“Weren’t you planning to marry Naomi?” Satoru chuckled bitterly, considering it another poor and rash decision that he made. “I was. Before I fought with Y/N.” Before he found that small light of hope in your eyes. Before he realized that not all of it was lost.

Toji laughed, rubbing his face with his palm as everything that had been going on sank in. He’s talking with his girlfriend’s ex. And he’s telling him all of this. Like it’s the most natural thing to do. He sighed, swallowing as he bit his lip, feeling himself getting agitated by the second.

“I know I said I’d appreciate honesty, but I didn’t think you’d actually say all that to my face.” He chuckled bitterly, recalling every sentiment he just said about you. “I’m her boyfriend. Her new man.” His chest heaved, blinking to allow himself to calm down. He’s the one who asked for this to happen, so why’s he the one getting pissed now?

“What do you want me to say?” Satoru’s voice was calm, looking away from Toji’s piercing glare. “You should’ve just told me to fuck off and stay away, though the latter one’s not possible because Y/N and I have a child.” Satoru sat up straight, as if getting ready to be kicked out. Toji’s jaw tightened visibly at the words.

Not because they’re insulting but because they’re right.

That’s what he wanted to do. He thought that if he couldn’t get you away from Satoru then maybe Satoru could just stay away from you. But obviously, it isn’t just some responsibility for him. Satoru isn’t the type of guy to just send money for his child. He’s not the type of guy to be just happy that his child knows he exists somewhere.

He wants to be present; to be there for Yui and watch her grow. He wants to be with her but of course, your circumstances wouldn’t allow that. Maybe this isn’t as easy as Toji thought it’d be and that’s what makes him mad.

“Toji, I know we’re not on the best of terms with each other, but what are you trying to get with this?” Toji didn’t like how he asked it. It made him sound like a villain and that’s the last thing he wants.

Is he getting so desperate that he allows himself to seem like one? “I agreed to this without knowing what you’re planning to do, I’m just here to be honest to you. Really.” Satoru wanted to ease the tension between the two of them for your sake.

He knows that you’re still very uncomfortable with the two of them being around each other and that you’re also thinking about how to make it better. He thought that this “conversation” would help.

“Do you really love her? Or did you just learn to love her for your child?” Toji gave his all to sound composed, scratching the edges of his thumb with his index finger. “I don’t remember telling myself that I have to love her. I just know that I love her.” Toji could hear his teeth grind against one another; his frustration starting to surface.

“Look, if you want to hear from me that I am not trying to take Y/N away from you then, I’ll just say that.” Toji remained silent, forgetting what this meeting is supposed to be and how it’s supposed to go. He’s bothered by this ever since he fought with you, but he cannot let that cloud his mind of what he would deem to be right.

And obviously, that’s not what’s happening right now.

“But you can’t tell me not to love her when even I myself can’t control that.” You weren’t lying when you said that this man changed a lot. It felt like this is the most mature Toji’s ever heard him talk.

“To feel that is one thing but to act upon it is another and I don’t plan on doing that.” Satoru wondered if you’ve been arguing about this with him, probably why he’s like this. He remembered your problem with him constantly mentioning his wife in whatever you do but after that, you never really told him anything about it anymore.

He didn’t try to pry even when it felt like your mind was always somewhere else because he didn't want to seem like he’s taking advantage of the situation.

“Well, it’s good that I don’t have to remind you.” Toji murmured, tilting his head as he furrowed his brows. Looking away, he pulled at his collar with his finger. The man in front of him looks nothing like a threat. Yet, he can’t find it in him to let it go.

Probably because deep down, he knows that this is not a one sided problem.

“I won’t ask you to stay away from Yui. I’m a father too. I just needed to hear this all from you, Satoru.” He opened a drawer, taking out a packet of cigarettes before putting one between his lips. The fire from the lighter lit up a portion of his face, inhaling only to let out smoke from one side of his mouth. “Why?” Satoru asked, leaning back.

“I don’t know. So, I could do better I guess?” Toji chuckled, making the other man’s brow bump with each other; not with anger but with an irritating confusion.Just as he was about to ask, Toji answered his question. “We didn’t fight. There’s just nothing left to do about it. Guess we gotta put extra effort.”

With that he stood up, signaling that he’s already over this conversation. And Satoru sat there, still in the dark with his intention. Does he have some kind of mic here that recorded what he just said? Satoru doesn’t care.

What he said was the truth, and it would be too funny to suspect Toji of some kind of evil plan when he’s literally the one who got heated up.

“I hope to work with you better, Satoru. After all, we love the same woman.” With that, he walked to the door to leave but not before Satoru could say a word. “Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.” It came out softer than he intended to. He looked down at his hands as they played with one another; defeated.

He didn’t hear a sigh from Toji. The sound of the door closing was the only signal that he already left. Clicking his tongue, Satoru stood up before running his fingers through his hair. He wonders if it’d be right to ask you about your situation with Toji. He wonders if you also want him to adjust.

He wonders if he’s just a nuisance in your life right now. Like how he made you feel before.

————————————————

“She should start when she’s like four. Or five.” Toji put Yui’s bag down on the couch as they ran around him. The kids were still not tired enough to calm down after a whole day of swimming. Their cheeks are all red from the sun and you mentally noted to put aloe gel on her face before bed.

“Megumi will start next year?” You asked him, hearing a hum as his gaze followed the two kids who ran to your daughter’s room. “‘Gumi we’ll be going in a few, don’t fall asleep!” Toji called to the little boy who only stared at him from a distance before turning away. You felt a pair of hands pull you as Toji sat you on his lap.

“Did you have your own fun too?” He teased, squeezing your thigh as he kissed your cheek. Your mind went back to the other day. It has been a while since the two of you did it due to busy schedules. You admit that you felt like you and Toji are still being extra careful with a few topics but this past few days was a breather.

“Mhm, definitely did.” You whispered to his lips, feeling his teeth bite your bottom one as he kissed you. You don’t know when it started but things started to feel a bit different between you and Toji and you don’t know if it’s because he’s starting to drop his worries for you and Satoru or if it’s because he’s just tired of thinking about it.

You were gonna talk to him regarding that but this weekend kind of assured you that it’s all going fine. As for you, you’re trying your best to adjust. You told yourself a thousand times that you had to think about Toji too and not just yourself but for some reason, you still find yourself questioning how you should do some things.

That’s not a good sign but you thought that maybe you could just take one step at a time. Toji’s making adjustments for you and you can’t just let him do all that work. The only thing you’re fearing is if it’s gonna burn out the two of you sooner or later.

It’s not that your relationship with him is not sturdy, but it’s still young. There are still so many things that the two of you might go through. You’re afraid that all of these are just taking a toll on both of you and one blow from a different direction might just take you down immediately if it ever lands.

Toji stayed for about half an hour before calling Megumi who definitely fell asleep on Yui’s bed. Meanwhile, your little girl was sitting beside her big bear, whining about the burns on her face, begging you to call her Dada.

“We’ll just put medicine on it, okay?” She stomped her little legs, pulling at your shirt to pick her up. “It’s because you won’t let me put sunscreen on your face properly earlier.” You clicked your tongue, letting her sob on your shoulder. “Dada…” She wiggled in your arms, a small hand holding her cheek.

“Just give Satoru a call. Or get him to come over. She probably misses him.” Toji picked his son up. The latter option shocked you a bit because you didn’t expect him to actually suggest the man he’s so uncomfortable with to come over and be around you. Even if it’s not for you, you still didn’t see it coming out of his mouth, especially after all the fights you had.

“They’ll meet in a day, anyway so it’s—” You started but he cut you off by talking to Yui. “Dada will come over, it’s okay. Stop crying.” The toddler’s cries softened to sniffles as she looked up at him. His hand patted her head, before turning to you to give you a kiss on the forehead. “She needs him right now. You know how kids are.”

The gesture made you feel a bit sad. You’re aware that this is not about the two of you but still, you know how he is when it comes to Satoru being with you. “You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what Yui needs.” You shouldn’t hold back if that’s what you need. He wanted to tell you that as well.

He remembered asking you casually about how you were with Satoru. Of course, you found it weird and got worried. You kept saying things to comfort him to which he quickly reassured you that it wasn’t like that.

“Of course, I did.” You told him, swirling the liquid inside the sippy cup. You wouldn’t look up at him the whole time. You placed it beside the other cup before moving to sit beside him. “We had a rough time, but it wasn’t always like that.” There was a hint of nostalgia in your voice; a mix of melancholia and fondness for the lost time.

“Why did it become like that?” He leaned on his elbow, fixing the ornaments in front of him. “Because of the rush, I guess. Bad timing.” You shrugged, drumming your fingers on the marble counter. “We just became parents. We didn’t have time to become lovers.” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“But I know I did.” So, Satoru wasn’t lying when he said you were in love. “Have you ever wondered if… if it’s just because of the responsibility that you share?” He prodded further, feeling like he was having the watered-down version of the conversation that he had with Satoru. Something he apologized to him for 2 weeks later.

“Probably at first. All of it is just for Yui. But at some point, I just found myself looking forward to days with him.” You sighed, staring blankly as you probably tried to recall more memories. You quickly looked at Toji, realizing the words that came out of your mouth. It’s not supposed to be like that. You’re not supposed to speak like that.

“Did you ever—” He began but you’re quick to cut him off, getting more and more worried about his behavior. You’ve been having open talks with each other, deciding that it might help with the crack in your relationship with him but this still makes you feel anxious. Because what if you hurt him again? What if something you say makes it worse?

“Are you alright? You keep asking unusual things.” You jokingly put your hand on his forehead, making him grab your wrist as he pulled you to him. “Hey, I was just curious. I want to do better.” He kissed the back of your neck. It’s true that he wants to do better for you. Hell, he wants to be the best for you.

But sometimes, the best isn’t what our heart wants; the perfect isn’t what our heart seeks.

“Alright, I’ll try to contact him. I doubt he’d be here, though. It’s a work day, I don’t really want to bother him.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before walking with him to the door. Megumi’s small arms were wrapped around his neck as he bid you goodbye for the day.

You wanted to ask him if it’s really okay with him but you reminded yourself that if it’s for Yui, it doesn’t matter if it’s not okay with anyone. “Text me when you get home.” You told him after he put Megumi in his seat. “Yeah, love you.” He kissed your lips once more before getting in his car and driving away.

You watched his car disappear, rubbing your baby’s back as she started to whine again. “Alright, we’ll call him.” You walked back inside, spotting your phone on the coffee table. You kissed Yui’s cheek as you dialed Satoru’s number. It rang twice before you heard his voice from the other line.

“Hey, everything okay?” You ignored the way your heart swelled at how alert he was to your calls. You figured that he’s probably working, "Dada!" Yui called to him, kicking her little feet and making you grab them. You put the phone on speaker "What's wrong, love?" Satoru's voice was full of worry because of how his daughter cried.

"She got sunburnt. She was swimming with Megumi earlier and now it's starting to sting." You pushed her hair back as she tried to take the phone from you. "Are you busy? She keeps asking for you. I didn't want to bother you but—" Without letting you finish your sentence, you could hear the chair scrape the floor. "Don't think like that. I'm never too busy for Yui."

"Would it be… Is it ok if I come over? I'll get ointment on the way." You could already hear the car keys and you pictured him walking out of his door and to his car. "Yeah, it's fine. Toji actually suggested that because Yui won't stop crying. Thank you." A small silence can be heard from the other end.

"I'll be there in a few, text me if you need anything else." After that, he lets you hang up the phone, waiting patiently for you say something. "Dada will be there. Stop crying now, you weren't crying earlier." You checked her face, feeling bad that she has to pay for having fun. But you think the blush that it left on her cheeks are cute.

After a little while, a knock on the door pulled you away from your phone. Even though, you already know that it's Satoru, you still peeped through the hole just to make sure. The night his mom stormed in your house and threatened fo take your child away was still vivid. You don't want Yui to see something like that again.

"Da!" She immediately cried when she saw him, reaching for her father to take her. "Hey, why? Where's your ouchie?" You saw a couple of bags in his hand as he took the crying child. "I brought you guys something, I thought you might not have had your dinner yet." He sounded shy, taking the smallest bag.

“Oh, thank you. You should eat with us, sorry for calling so abruptly. She’s being fussy.” You smiled at him, not missing the fond sigh that escaped his lips. “It’s nothing, it’s a win-win situation.” He jokes, tickling the little girl’s belly which caused her to erupt into laughter.

“Let’s put this cream on your face so it doesn’t hurt, alright?” You watched the two of them sit on your couch and all of a sudden, it became the highlight of your day. How he removed his shoes when she asked him to lay down, how he listens to her almost incomprehensible rants, how he gently applied the ointment on her cheeks, producing the most beautiful giggles.

It almost felt like a normal family, resting after a long day of staying out. With her favorite show playing, you watched her look up at her father just to make sure he’s watching the same thing. And he’d go and nod, talking to her like it’s the most serious thing in the world.

“You should eat with us.” You found yourself saying as you wiped your hand. You reminded yourself to text your boyfriend as you turned away, feeling wrong for how you feel but how can you not feel that way when the scene you used to dream of just came alive in front of you?

Maybe you’re just tired. Maybe you just wanted the comfort of your bed. Maybe you just want to not think about it, maybe it’s better to ignore these feelings because there are other things you should be feeling right now. Like wanting to see Toji and be with him. You shook your head, setting up Yui’s table.

And there he comes, with your daughter in his arms, wearing one of the house slippers you left under the couch. “Can I borrow these?” He chuckled and you could feel the stretch on your cheeks from how small they look on him and suddenly, it’s just the three of you again. Eating under the warm kitchen light, talking about your daughter.

Like how you always wanted it to be.

——————————————————

“Just take care of her for me. I’m sure she wants it from you.”

Toji pursed his lips as Satoru's words reverberated in his head. He knows nothing, he thought, glancing at you from the mirror. You were busy checking Yui's bag, completely unaware of the thoughts of the man in front of you. Toji has been selfish before. But his head was clear enough to finally judge things with deep consideration to the external factors.

Any man or woman wants nothing but to work things out for their family. But sometimes it just gets too much for them. But for some, they just need time. And he doesn't know how to feel when he thinks about how you and Satoru probably just needed time to fix yourselves as individuals for the relationship to work.

Even though Megumi already understands that his mom will never be home. There are still instances where he would ask Toji about her and by that, he could tell that his son's wishing for her. Whenever you'd do something for him, he would say "Like mom?" and he don't want you to know that not even the smile on your face could ease the searing ache in his chest.

“What do you think about getting back together with Satoru?” The question already escaped his lips before he could even think. Your eyes snapped at Toji, looking at him like he just said the most obnoxious thing. You walked to him, stopping his hands to do his tie yourself.

“Why are you suddenly asking about that now?” You counted back to the first time he was talking about you and Satoru.“Nothing. I mean, he mentioned that his mother’s never around him anymore. Isn’t she like the bane of your relationship with Satoru?” He peered down at you, curious as to how you’d react.

Toji didn’t mean to ask it so abruptly, but he knows that he has to talk about it sooner or later. He knows that the both of you are trying and your relationship shouldn’t be this hard if only adjusting comes so naturally.

He knows that you put in a lot of effort just so he wouldn’t feel insecure and overthink. He also knows that sometimes it just shows, you’re probably just denying that to yourself. He’s also too aware of how the both of you would tread carefully around the topic of his wife.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t miss her or talk about the things she does.” You told him that once but still, Toji can’t help but feel bad when those days come and he knows that he’s not giving his full attention and mind to you.

“I’m literally in a relationship with you, stop asking if I—” You tried to chuckled it off, brushing the palm of your hands on his chest to straighten the fabric but Toji caught them. “What if this isn’t working?” He sighed, squeezing your hand as if it will lessen the weight of his words.

You don’t know if you’re hurt that he probably wants to end it or if you’re hurt that there’s a hint of truth behind his words. “What are you saying?” As if suddenly coming back down to reality, Toji shook his head and pulled you close. “I think I woke up too early, come here. Sorry about that.” He kissed your forehead but that didn’t take away your worried face.

“Toji you can’t just say that and expect me not to overthink.” You don’t know if you’ve prepared yourself enough for this possibility. It would hurt you if you’ll lose such a good man in your life. “I’m…I don’t know if I still feel comfortable, or if I’m just getting used to it Y/N. I know you try, you do it so well, baby but,” He took a deep breath, pausing.

“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.”

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#angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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omgeto · 9 months

Text

✩ — 4:21am

summary: gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you.

cw: minor angst, fluffy ending (I PROMISE) this is for all you sad hojoes out there that just want your man home all in one piece.

gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you. you didn't actually think much of it, until one night, you awake in panic feeling that something's off. you are used to falling asleep as you wait for gojo to come home, but when you check the time and realise that it was later than usual, anxiety gnawed at your heart.

the clock on the bedside table mocks you with its relentless ticking. each passing second only intensifies your unease. you reach for your phone and check for messages or missed calls, but there's nothing. gojo hasn't contacted you since the last heated argument you had before he left for his mission. it's been hours since then.

you can’t even remember what you fought about, it was something trivial, him forgetting to put the milk back in the fridge, or not putting down the toilet seat—it was dumb. it hurts you even more now that the things you were just berating him for a few hours ago, you were begging for him to come back and do one more time.

fighting back the growing panic, you try calling him. his phone rings, but there's no answer. of course there wouldn’t be you knew that he doesn’t use his phone when he was out, but you just had to try, hoping that he’d sent a quick text to say he was just around the corner—but there was nothing.

you couldn’t help but conjure up terrifying scenarios about him. what if he’s injured? what if he’s been chopped up into little pieces and he’s in pain? wanting to call you and he can’t.

you can't stay still any longer, pacing back and forth in your dimly lit apartment. your thoughts are a jumbled mess, and you can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened. the world outside is quiet, and the darkness feels suffocating.

your mind wanders to the first time you met him, he was persistent immediately when he first laid eyes on you, claiming that he would stop at nothing to get to be with you. and that was true. you wouldn’t give him the time of day, at first, but whenever you were around him doing your ‘hard to get routine,’ he put in extra effort just to get with you.

there wasn’t anyone you could even ask to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t, who else would be? and there’s a part of you that wouldn’t even want to know, you had to see him, alive and well for all your worries to be gone.

as the minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity, you cling to thoughts of him, each memory acting as a lifeline. there wasn’t even any indication that something bad happened to him, but there is something unsettling that you just couldn’t shake.

you could feel him before you could even hear the faint tapping at the door. there isn’t any hesitation as you bolt to the door, dragging a weak standing gojo into a tight hug only pulling away as you hear him softly wince at your heavy touch.

“sorry,” he murmurs, standing with his arm clutching at his lower stomach, slightly hunched over, “i lost my keys.”

“you lost your keys?” you practically yell, “that’s what you wanna focus on right now?” you ask as you look at his injured body. this is the worst you’ve ever seen him, and you could tell that he was in pain from the way his usual breezy smile, isn’t reaching his eyes like it normally does.

you quickly usher gojo inside, supporting him as he limps toward the couch. the dim living room lights reveals a deep gash on his face, and his clothes are torn and stained with dirt and blood.

“take off your shirt,” you order, your face filled with concern as you try and properly assess all his injuries.

“aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he jokes, cringing as you remove his shirt from over his head, trying not to hurt him further.

“this isn’t the time for jokes ‘toru,” you chastise, shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting emotional, “y’know i really thought that—” you sigh, not even wanting to utter the words, since it doesn’t matter as he’s here now, alive.

“i can’t even lie,” he starts, his eyes staring down, avoiding yours. “for a moment out there, i didn’t know if i could live up to my promise to you.” you couldn’t even respond, the fact that gojo could even admit that there was a chance that he wasn’t gonna get back to you, had you panicked.

“c’mere,” he says pulling your into his lap, noticing the stressed expression that has yet to leave your face.

you were quick to jump off of him, but he kept you firm in his hold, his arms wrapped protectively around you. despite the pain he must have been in, his eyes held a mixture of relief and vulnerability as he looked into yours. “satoru you’re hurt.”

but he gave you a reassuring smile, one that couldn't quite hide the pain etched on his face. "i'm okay, really," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “i just need you close right now."

as you settled back into his embrace, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, reassuring you that he was indeed alive and home with you, where he had always promised to be.

AN: SO GUYS HOW DID I DO? im not really a drabble or fluffy girlie, as you guys know. but um tada... this is for you all. love ya. If there’s mistakes in there it’s 6am so ignore em please IF THIS IS SHIT THEN IM SORRY I TRIED. But as long as one gojo lover says “emp you’ve mended my little heart” I can die happy

#stampedwithane★#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #jjk fic #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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ceilidho · 3 months

Text

take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 6) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

And they say if it sways, you have to cut it off at the root.

You repeat that to yourself when you catch the way you glance out the kitchen window again, surreptitiously watching John. It’s hard to pull your eyes away. He walks over to the well to fetch water for you to do the dishes, the chore you’d elected to take when he offered you the choice between that and feeding the horses. It’s a fair compromise since you balk at the thought of getting anywhere near either of those beasts.

Watching him bend over the well to lower the bucket down, his muscled shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and suspenders drawing tight against his back, makes you bite your lip. Then scowl. Then pull the curtain shut to block out the view.

You have to cut any gentleness off at the root.

When he comes back, you step to the side without a word to let him pour the water into the wash basin, hot water from the teakettle and lye soap making the water already in the pan sudsy. In a sense, it’s not any different from anything you’ve done back home; the same two pans for washing and scalding, the same cake of soap, and the same dish towel to dry the dishes off at the end. The only difference is the man that pours the cool water into the basin to make it more comfortable for your hands.

“I’ll be out back,” he tells you, before grabbing you around the waist and pulling you in close to press a close-mouthed kiss to the side of your head. You only scrunch your nose a little. “When you’re done, come get me. Got business in town.”

“Why do you need me to come with you?” you ask, lips cresting into a pout without a thought. You’d never considered yourself a bellyacher, but it’s almost second nature around John. “I can…I can stay and clean the house.”

“You saying I keep a messy home?” John asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You look pointedly down at the dirt he tracked into the kitchen after fetching the bucket of water from the well. “It could do with a spit shine.”

That gets a laugh out of him, a bellow from deep in his belly. It shakes you to your bones.

“Darling, I’ll be honest with you,” he says, turning you to face him before folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t trust you not to bolt like a runaway horse, and you’ll only wind up putting yourself in danger if you try to make a run for it out here.”

That expression makes your stomach twist. “Good to know you think of your wife as some scared filly.”

“You talk a whole lot for a woman who’s been over my knee. Do we need to repeat that?”

When his tone goes stern, you lose the wedging piece of candor keeping you upright. Eyes widen and then narrow. He’s been patient despite your loose tongue, but when that patience slips, you can see the steel underneath his gentle exterior. It’s the true root of him.

You clam up under his stare, sullen and begrudging. Smooth your dress down to have something to do with your hands. You’ve forgotten your place again. Side-stepped it out of intimacy or misplaced trust or naivety or forgetting, again, for the umpteenth time, that the world is not a place for women that open their mouths. So you keep it shut, trap every festering word behind your teeth.

He must not like something he sees painted on your face because his brows draw closer together, frustration brewing anew in his eyes. The longer you stay quiet, the more irritated he grows, his nostrils flaring wide.

“See that you come get me as soon as everything’s squared away in here,” John bites out, pointing a single, blunt finger at you. “Else I’ll come get you myself.”

And we wouldn’t want that, you think, surly. You hope it swims across your eyes. Blooms on your face. Perhaps it does.

The lines around his mouth and eyes grow more defined when he smiles. His whole mustache moves with his smile, every part of his face expressing his satisfaction. It’s beyond infuriating. He taps you on the nose with his knuckle before leaving out the backdoor, not sparing you a backward glance. You nearly shake with indignation.

It’s hard not to watch him out in the paddock while drying the dishes though, not with him set against the gilded sun. You inch the curtain slightly open, just enough of a gap to peer through. The Stetson shadows his face when he tilts his head up towards the sky, the hard edge of his jaw the only thing that meets your gaze. It’s not the first time you’ve seen a man out in the fields or pastures, but most of those have been at a distance, removed. Glimpsed briefly through the window while your train barreled on past acres of farmland.

John cycles through the morning tasks of guiding the horses into the paddock by a lead fixed to their halter, replenishing the food trough, and fetching more water from the well to fill the water trough. His horses are striking in the sheer size of them; muscled shoulders and legs, and well-padded flanks. Most of the horses you’ve seen out west haven’t seemed nearly as well-fed, many whittled down to rib and hip bone.

It says something about him, but you’re not ready to confront exactly what. You turn your attention back to the dishes, scrubbing the last of the dried butter and eggs at the bottom of the pan. It takes a little extra grit, but cleaning is a familiar chore—it’s one you’ve done all your life, what got you into this mess in the first place.

You don’t like what you find when you finally venture out of the house to track him down.

“I’m not getting on that thing.”

You put your veritable foot down with that, arms straight and stiff by your sides, more out of worry than annoyance. You do also give a little stomp for good measure, but you’ll chalk that up to reflexes should John inquire.

He doesn’t. Just stares down at you with unimpressed green eyes that haunt your days and nights now. Tells you without telling you that you’ll get on that horse, willing or not.

It’s not for a lack of beauty that you can’t quite shake the nervousness they elicit in you. Buttercup, the one that John saddled up and now waits patiently to be mounted, keeps her head low as if sensing your disquiet, curiosity glimmering in her coal black eyes. Not even the animal curiosity of is this a friend or foe, but the curiosity that comes with pure trust, almost intelligible that way.

John runs his hand down her smooth, buttery flank. “Did you enjoy yesterday’s walk?”

“I didn’t hate it.” Truth be told, you’d hardly been of a mind to notice it at all. Though your legs still ache from the walk back to John’s house, the walk itself had not seemed especially grueling in the moment. The mind can put aside quite a bit when it has something else to focus on.

“Well, I’m not too keen to repeat it.” He leaves it at that, tightening a strap on Buttercup’s saddle in such a purposeful way that your shoulders tense.

“I could meet you there,” you say, a touch desperately. Your stomach turns when you think about hoisting yourself up onto Buttercup’s saddle. It doesn’t seem possible. It’s not something you’ve ever done or ever considered doing. You remember horror stories of stableboys back home trampled under their hooves and stomped to death, kicks so powerful that they could break a fully grown man’s ribs or cave in his face.

“My wife isn’t gonna wander into town by her lonesome like some vagrant,” John says disdainfully, almost scoffing. Insulted by the whole idea. “And you’re sure as hell not staying here alone, darlin’.”

“Well, figure something else out because I am not getting up on that thin—” You cut off on a yelp when he circles around you and abruptly lifts you up. Your head rushes at the sudden motion, legs flailing beneath you.

“Quit squirmin’ like a damn barn cat. Little hellion,” John grits out, guiding your heel into the stirrup. “C’mon, you’re just side saddling, so you only need your butt on the saddle.” When he sets you down lightly onto the saddle, you stop wiggling around, acutely aware of the thousand pound horse beneath you. “There we go—that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“I hate this,” you hiss, fingers clamped tight over the pommel.

“Aw, darlin’, don’t go insulting Buttercup like that,” John chuckles, replacing your foot in the stirrup with his own.

You sit there stiff as a board, perched precariously on the saddle as he hoists himself up behind you. His sheer proximity doesn’t register right away. You’re too concerned with the moving beast under you, its ribs expanding and contracting with each breath. Unlike you, John is more than comfortable sitting astride the horse, not a smidgeon of tension in his body. You suck in a horrified breath when you feel him readjust himself before settling down more comfortably.

He reaches around you to grab the reins, a sharp whistle signaling the horse to take her first stride forward, looping around the side of the house. Even the slow trot threatens to buck you off at first. You lurch forward with each step, certain that you’ll slip right off the saddle and onto the dusty ground below until John loops an arm around your waist and pulls you to his chest.

You grow stiffer in his arms somehow. Despite sleeping in the same bed the night before and sharing far too many kisses for your comfort or virtue, being pressed up tight against a man never gets easier. Perhaps if you’d been married for longer than a single day you’d be more at ease with the notion, but as of yet, it comes as a shock to the senses every time.

You carefully avoid the thought that other married women wouldn’t be still in possession of their maidenhead so many hours after their wedding night. That’s none of your business.

The two of you navigate into town at a slow canter, allowing you to gradually acclimatize to the gait of a horse. Part of you remembers riding horses when you were younger, but that was a lifetime ago, long enough to shake the memory from your muscles. These days, you can barely remember the hands holding you steady, the ones that would’ve lifted you up onto the horse and helped you back down. Those people are faceless in your memories.

John stays silent at your back, only tightening his hand around your hip when you slip the slightest bit when Buttercup picks up the pace, heading towards the familiar sight of the sheriff’s office. It draws a quick squawk out of you, neatly masked by a fake cough. His chuckle at that rumbles through you, clearly not buying it. Another lesson in humiliation.

You manage not to flail as much when he gets off the horse and helps you down, even though you’re still not used to being manhandled so, particularly not in front of the townsfolk milling about and glancing over with undisguised interest.

“Are you working today?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you while John ties Buttercup’s lead to the post outside the sheriff’s office.

“Don’t exactly get many days off when you’re the only sheriff in the county,” John replies. “We’ve got a few deputies in every town, and a couple here, but it ain’t an easy gig.”

“How many deputies have you got here?”

“Just the three. Simon, John, and Kyle. You met Simon the other day.”

His name draws up the faint memory of the masked deputy from your wedding ceremony. “I remember,” you say flatly. There’s no lost love between you and anyone involved with that sham of a wedding.

“Don’t hold that against him,” John smiles. “He’s a good ole boy. Can’t fault a man for following the boss’ orders.”

Watch me. You glance away lest he see that thought etched across your face.

The town is bustling with activity this late in the morning. Steps and floorboards creak under the weight of boots coming and going. A man going by in a horse-and-buggy whistles sharply when he cracks the reins, his horse puffing out a low, frustrated grunt.

Men hustle past you decked out in leather chaps and waistcoats, spats covering the half-boots of those not decked out in tall, spurred cowboy boots. There are far less women scampering about town than men, particularly not so close to the sheriff’s office, but you keep finding your eyes drawn to them.

John grips you under the arm and swiftly pulls you back when you narrowly sidestep a mound of horse droppings left uncovered in the middle of the road. The smell only hits you a second later.

“Well, that’s lovely,” you remark, deadpanned, putting your foot down deliberately a good distance away.

“Wouldn’t need to complain about it if you just watched your step.”

“You know, this really would’ve been a nice day to just stay home,” you mutter, chastised enough not to say something sharp in return.

While the smell makes your nose wrinkle, you have to admit that the air here is far less pungent than back home. In general, this bucolic town is far more pleasant in certain respects than the city you’d left behind in a haste.

“Where do you want me to wait for you?” you ask, turning to face him now at the front steps of the sheriff’s office.

He frowns. “Wait for me?”

“While you work, I mean. Surely you don’t mean for me to sit inside all day twiddling my thumbs while you work.”

His mustache twitches with a smile. “Thought I’d show you around first—get you acquainted with the locals.”

The idea of mingling with the townsfolk doesn’t appeal to you, but you also can’t think of a good enough reason to refuse. Especially with the curious glances already being sent your way. You duck your head to stare down at your boots when you spot a group of other women clustered together and whispering to each other, their eyes trained on you. Somehow you’ve gone from being furniture in a room to being a source of local gossip, and it’s almost hard to believe that you miss being ignored.

When you look back up at John, you find him still staring down at you, waiting patiently. Up close, the sunlight almost turns patches of his beard gold; he has a smattering of moles across his face, not the blush of freckles but rather a few dark spots by his nose. Aside from the tuft of hair under his bottom lip, his chin is mostly bare, and when he smiles, his whole face moves with it. You have to blink to snap yourself out of it.

Your upper lip curls involuntarily when you say, “So you want to help me make friends?”

“Well, seeing as I know most of ‘em, figured I’d be a help.”

“The job’s really not all that busy then, huh?” You really wish you could learn to shut your mouth, since it keeps getting you in trouble, but the barbs roll off your tongue so naturally. Luckily, it seems to amuse him now more than it did early this morning.

“Guess life isn’t as exciting ‘round here as it is back in the city, but it has its days,” John chuckles. “Now come on; I’ll give you the tour.”

For some reason, you hadn’t pictured the town being quite so big, but during your walk, you realize you’ve vastly underestimated the true size of it. Though not anywhere near as ostentatious as the cities back east, the sheer breadth of it eclipses anything from back home. It’s spread out on an incomparable scale, the mountains in the background stretching out along the horizon like the skeletal remains of a giant long since dead and decayed.

It’s not the ramshackle town you envisioned when you stepped off the train the other day, despite the wooden facades and their brightly painted signs. You almost wish you had more time just to admire the craftsmanship, but John leads you from store to store like he’s on a mission.

He seems most interested in towing you around like some prized mare, all trussed up and clean from your bath the night before. You meet so many people that their names and faces all begin to blur together. The worst offense of all is that it makes you lean on John for support, looking up at him again and again for reassurance whenever you can’t answer a question or your answer triggers a moment of awkward silence.

Those moments come aplenty too. The few people nosey enough to ask you about your life back in the city find themselves on the butt end of a cheerfully delivered lie from John. It unnerves you at first, seeing how comfortable he is with lying. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second when recounting your previous life as a schoolteacher in Connecticut prior to your engagement.

Perhaps it’s not a lie though. You don’t know the extent to which he and his original betrothed corresponded. Certainly not enough for him to suspect you of not being her, but maybe she’d spun him that story. Or maybe it had been the truth. All this time you’d thought that John had been swindled by some con artist using desperate men to fund her lifestyle, but maybe somewhere between here and Connecticut, there’s an unmarked grave with the corpse of the woman that John had intended to marry.

That makes you feel guilty somehow, like you’ve taken something not meant for you. Even if you hadn’t wanted it—in fact, been forced into taking it.

You swallow that thought when John leads you into the general store. Your eyes bug at the sight of a blonde haired woman in khaki cloth knickerbockers stocking the shelves, who turns at the sound of the door creaking open, the sharp look on her face melting away at the sight of John.

The warmth in her face infuriates you more than it should. You have no right to feel this way—or, some right, but you resent the fact that you do as well.

“Hi John,” she greets. Her voice is deeper than you anticipated, springtime crisp like a babbling brook.

“Laswell,” John greets, scooping his arm around your side until he can palm the side of your hip, dragging you in close. You stumble into him, catching yourself with a hand on his chest. Your neck and face go hot when Laswell’s eyes turn on you, curiosity glinting in them.

“Your lady finally showed up then,” she surmises. “I’ll be honest, I was starting to think you made her up. Told the boys to think about forcing you into an early retirement.”

John huffs at that. His fingers tighten at your waist when Laswell says your lady, as if the words alone make it fact. Speak it into being. The metal burns against your ring finger. In a sense, it is fact, despite the subterfuge. You wonder if it would hold up in court, but out here, it’s real enough.

“Well, she’s very real, as you can tell.” He gives you a little shake with the hand on your waist. “Say hi, darlin’.”

If looks could kill, yours would be pit-viper venom. You’d leave behind a festering puncture mark and a body in the throes of envenomation. “Excuse me?”

Your attitude might come at a cost this time because he looks unamused at your back talk in front of an audience. “Darlin’.” It’s said like a warning.

You bite your tongue instead of lashing out. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Kate Laswell; I own this little shop,” she says, introducing herself and stepping forward to hold out her hand. You have to step forward to take it, pulling you out of John’s arms. It feels familiar being on your own, certainly more natural than being constantly at John’s side the way you have for almost two days now. It’s also a bit cold after having John’s warmth at your back or side at all times.

There’s a moment when you realize that Kate is the first person you’ve had to introduce yourself to, John having introduced you to everyone else you’d come across. It hovers on the tip of your tongue when you realize that you could just say your real name, and you find yourself torn between setting it free and the odd fear of John’s reaction.

You chicken out at the last second, giving Kate the same name as the one John introduced you by to everyone else in town.

“He might growl like a bear, but you’ll get used to that,” she says, winking.

You frown. Awfully familiar talk for someone who isn’t his wife. Why should she know that?

You make yourself push that thought away, reminding yourself again that it doesn’t matter. It’s none of your concern.

“He’s been a gentleman,” you croak instead, smile so thin that it might as well be a grimace.

A shout from the bar across the street startles you, drawing your attention away from the conversation. John stills too. A series of raised voices puts him on alert, and then someone inside the bar must fire a gun because the violent crack of one makes you scream, the noise pulled involuntarily from your chest.

“Stay here,” John growls, his pistol already drawn. He’s out the door before you can respond, darting across the street towards the bar and shouldering the door open so hard that it rattles in its frame. You watch everything happen through the window of the general store with your heart in your throat.

“Good Lord,” you whisper, hand over your mouth. Kate stands beside you in a similar manner, her eyebrows pinched in concern.

The thought doesn’t even occur to you that now would be the perfect time to make a break for it, with John busy across the street. Your feet are rooted in place; you doubt you’d be able to take so much as a single step towards the door.

There’s precious little that you can see through the grit-lined bar windows, not as dusty and dirty as they are, but you can hear the commotion from inside. Raised voices and the sound of breaking glass. It makes you flinch, heart galloping at an even faster pace. Like harness horses on the Freehold Raceway. It’s not long before you see a large, masked man hightailing it down the road towards the bar, dust clouding around his boots with each heavy step.

You recognize him almost instantly as the man from your wedding, the one that signed your marriage license. John’s man—Simon. He nearly takes the bar door off its hinges when he throws it open, barely in there a second before he and John come out each with a man in hand, both already handcuffed and looking roughed up They drag them stumbling down the dirt road towards the sheriff’s office, Simon half-dragging another man whose white button-down is slowly saturating with red blood oozing out of a gunshot wound in his belly.

“Shouldn’t they call a doctor for that man?” you ask Kate in a frantic voice, whipping around to face her.

She nods. “They probably will once they’ve got the four of them locked up. Doctor probably heard that anyway—he’ll be on his way, I bet.”

“On his way already?”

“There’s only one doctor around here. And not much else sounds like a gunshot.”

“Does that happen a lot around here?” You don’t know why the thought makes you nervous, but there’s a cramp in your belly and a sweat building up on the back of your neck and your hands itch to grab something. When you swallow, it almost doesn’t go down.

“It’s not uncommon. I reckon it’s not something you’re used to?”

You purse your lips. “I’ve seen a dead body before.” You don’t know why that comes out so defensively, like a slight that’s been levied against you. There’s no easy way to dispel the myth in everyone’s mind that you come from a life of comfort and ease, with delicate hands fit for delicate work. You curl your hands into fists at the thought, conscious of the old scars and calluses built up over years of scrubbing and cleaning. If she were to look down, she wouldn’t see the well-kept hands of a lady.

When Kate quirks an eyebrow, you realize that your response had nothing to do with her question. “Well, look at you.”

When John and Simon disappear into the jailhouse, the door swinging shut behind them, you sway on your feet for a second, feeling oddly unbalanced. Something about the sight of the man’s blood leaves you feeling woozy, taking the chair that Kate offers you when she sees the way you rock back on your heels.

“Let me get you something to drink,” Kate offers, brows now furrowed sympathetically at the pathetic sight you must be. “I’m sure you got a little fright thinking of your husband facing down a man with a gun, but I’m afraid that comes with marrying a sheriff. There’s danger everywhere, you know.”

What you don’t say is that your lightheadedness came not just from the sight of the man with the blood leaking from a wound in his stomach, but the grim look on your husband’s face as he carted away the man responsible, eyes hard as steel. No sympathy for the man in his hands. Only another criminal to be tossed away in a jail cell. The punishment for making another man bleed.

Your hands shake in your lap, but you don’t say that. Instead, you smile weakly and take the glass of water from her hands when she comes back from filling it at the sink. “You’re right. Just a little fright.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain john price #price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader

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prettyfastcars · 3 months

Text

Owned | Mob!Lando - part 2

Read part 1 here

Summary: Lando finally gets what he wants. Sure he had to use crooked ways to get it, but all’s fair when one is in love, isn’t it?

Themes: dark!mob!lando, breeding kink, smut, fluff, explicit language

“Did you do it?”

You asked as you were both in bed in your apartment, your head resting on his chest while his hand gently caressed your back. Your fingers mindlessly toyed with the chain around his neck.

Lando had been here with you every single night ever since you’d learned about your ex boyfriend’s tragic accident which happened on the same night you decided to break things off with him.

That night, you two had an argument and it was messy. After that he stepped out for a walk, then unfortunately got hit badly. The days following the accident were rough. You called Lando the morning after, crying as you told him what happened. He told you not to worry and that he was coming to take care of everything.

The moment he got there at your doorstep, everything passed by in a blur. You barely even remember the funeral, the headstone at the cemetery, mourning with your ex’s family. All you remember is Lando was right there.

And now that all of that was over, now that you had taken time to work through your emotions and feelings, and now that you had a taste of normality again, you couldn’t help but ask that question.

Lando sighed, “What makes you say that, baby?”

He had taken every precaution. His guys had even made sure there were no cameras around where the ‘accident’ happened.

“Just wondering,” You murmured. You went to get up, to pull away from him and get out of bed but Lando stopped you by rolling on top of you before you did. The heat of his body, the feeling of his warm skin against yours, suddenly you didn’t want to get out of this bed. Ever.

“You think I would lie to you about something like this? You think I would put you through all this on purpose?” His pretty eyes looked down at you. His soft lips, his messy hair, that chain hanging from his neck slightly brushing against your chest as he hovered above you. “Hmm?”

Of course, Lando knew he could never tell you the truth. It was better this way. He hated lying to you, but this was for your own good. He saw the way guilt immediately filled your eyes at the sound of his question.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “I think I need some more time to process everything.”

As much as he hated the thought of you being engrossed in the thoughts of another man, he nodded, agreeing.

He leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth softly, “The kids miss you.”

You gave him a slight smile then. “I miss them too.” He had told you that he had hired a temporary nanny for them, until you were ready to come back to work. He also said how they didn’t really like the new nanny and asked about your whereabouts each morning and night. “I’ll be back soon.” You promised.

He moved his mouth on top of yours and kissed you passionately, biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished.

He’d been doing that a lot lately. Whenever he found you too deep in your thoughts, he’d find a way to distract you and make you forget for a while. Most of the time, you both ended up in bed.

Like right now.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back. You moaned and whimpered, your bare body squirming under his. Lando's mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, pulling the covers away in the process until he settled in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core.

“I miss having you in my home, you know that?” He whispered before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. “I miss seeing your face when I get home from work.”

Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. He looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure.

“Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up, your elbows digging into the mattress. You watched how his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, and pleasurably agonising.

“Come home with me.” He whispered before he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone, thighs shaking as he kissed his way up your body again, hovering over you.

“I will,” You answered. “Soon.”

“How soon?” He leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

“Maybe in a couple of days.”

“You’re torturing me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Am I?”

“Yes,” He insisted. “I miss you.” He repeated. “When you come back to me, I’m never letting you leave my bed.”

You giggled again, running your fingers through his soft hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. His hand slipped in between your legs with ease, caressing your inner thighs again. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss given how sensitive you were.

You squirmed under him, and Lando smirked through the kiss as he slid his cock easily into you, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud again as he filled you up entirely.

He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head, whispering as he fucked you slowly, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He gasped, “Then you’ll be mine forever.” He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he fucked you gently.

His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you squirmed under him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. “You’d be safe with me, just us and the kids. Huh, baby?”

“Yes…” You whined.

He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he pounded into you. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

“I can see it already,” He whispered, “You, walking around with a baby bump, in your little dresses,” He pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen while he kept pounding into you incessantly. “I can’t wait to spoil you rotten, baby. I’ll worship your body even more than I do now, I’ll buy you anything you wanted, fuck I’ll do anything for you.”

“Oh… Lando, please,” You whimpered.

You tightened around him as you felt him quicken his pace, pounding into you. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

His hand toyed with your clit, making you tremble. “Come for me.” He murmured, his voice now deeper. “Take all that cum, it’s all yours, baby. All yours.”

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, and came with a loud moan.

Lando came right after you. He didn’t pull out, but remained buried inside you. Both of you catching your breaths and hearts racing in sync. You were a whimpering mess as he collapsed on top of you.

“I fucking love you.” He whispered, breathless.

Lando left in the early hours of the morning. He hated leaving you, but his kids would need him. He left after giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He murmured against your skin.

On his way home, Lando got his phone out and immediately pulled up the camera footage. These past days, you’d been sleepier than usual so he had ample time to bring his guys in and have them install even more discreet cameras all over your home.

He didn’t see it as invading your privacy. But he had to make sure you were alright at all times, right?

So he watched you as you slept. Warm and safe under your blankets. “Everything’s gonna be okay, baby.” He whispered as he watched you shift around until you found a more comfy position. “I’ll take care of you.”

—

He couldn’t have been happier the day you decided to come back to work. Neither could he keep his hands off of you the moment the kids were napping during the day or sleeping at night.

“You’re moving in with me,” He growled into your ear one night, as he fucked you from behind while you were bent over his desk again. He grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body into him each time he thrust into you. “I don’t want you living in that apartment anymore. You hear me?”

You whined, barely able to hold on to the desk as he pounded into you. “I can’t…” You gasped, “I can’t just move in, I–,”

“Why?” He barked, “Why can’t you?” He leaned over you, his damp, warm chest pressing against your back. “Hmm?”

You turned your head to the side, gasping in pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence. “I can’t just… ” You desperately tried to get the right words out. “Maybe later, in a year or two if we’re still–,”

“Years?” He growled, fucking you harder. Your body crashed against the desk with each of his thrust, and you moaned at how his cock reached all the right places. “And if we’re still what?”

You whimpered when he bit down on your shoulder before pounding into you harder than before. “Together." You answered. "What if–,”

Lando pulled out, pulled you up from the desk and twisted you around so you faced him. He did it so quickly you barely processed any of it. One moment you were bent over his desk and the next you were facing him with his hand wrapped around your throat.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You secretly loved this side of him. Unpredictable. Wild. Dark.

“What did you just say to me?” He whispered, his voice surprisingly deeper than you’d ever heard. It made you shiver. “You think there’s even a slight possibility that you won’t end up being mine forever?” He leaned in just enough so his mouth brushed against yours. “You think this is a joke, baby? You think I’m just messing around with you?”

You trembled as he sat you down on the edge of the desk and slid his cock inside you again. The room was dark, the only light came from the dim scones on the wall and the moonlight coming in from the wide windows. Lando looked angry.

He tightened his grip around your throat just enough to make you whimper again as he resumed fucking you. “You’re mine.” He hissed. “There is no if,” He kept fucking into you even as you came, moaning and whimpering as you clenched around his cock, “You will be mine forever.”

You were too far gone, high on the orgasm he’d just given you that you didn’t hear the dark promise dripping from his words as he came inside you.

—

A couple of days later, one night as you put the kids to sleep, you received a phone call from a panicked neighbour of yours. What she said over the phone made you rush to Lando, trying to keep yourself from freaking out.

You found him in his bedroom and you couldn’t help the tears then.

“What’s going on, baby?” He wrapped his arms around you and held you until you were able to speak again. "What happened?"

“My neighbour called and… they’re being evacuated because–,” You took a deep breath, “My building is on fire, it’s… it’s pretty bad.” You sobbed, hugging him tightly. “My apartment, it’s all gone.”

“Hey, hey,” He cupped your face in his large hands and said, “Calm down, I’m here. Okay? I’ll handle this, baby. Don’t you worry.”

You buried your face into his chest, sniffling.

He hugged you tighter, kissing your temple and rubbing your back to comfort you. He hated it, being the reason behind why you were crying. But this was necessary, wasn’t it? You refused to move in with him because you liked your apartment. So he got rid of the apartment. The whole building in fact.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He murmured against your skin as he repeatedly kissed your forehead while you cried on his shoulder. I had to do it. He thought. How else would we live under the same roof?

—

You had no choice but to live with him after that incident. Apparently the authorities couldn’t find what started the fire, and any evidence was probably ash too.

As much as you missed your cosy apartment, living with Lando was like being in a dream.

You’d wake up in his arms, spend time with the kids, have breakfast like a family, then Lando would leave for ‘work’ and you’d kiss him goodbye at the door. You’d spend your entire day with the kids, reading, baking, playing in the yard. Then he’d come home and you’d spend the evening like a family again.

After putting the kids to bed, Lando would always, always drag you straight to bed where you’d fuck until one of you passed out, then resume in the morning and repeat.

Everything was perfect.

And just weeks after moving in with him, you found out you were pregnant. When you broke the news to him, he was almost giddy with excitement.

He refused to leave your side, to the point where he’d try to be home as much as possible and would only ever leave if something desperately needed his attention or intervention.

Many times you’d find him in the kids’ playroom, talking to them about having a newborn baby around. They were all excited.

It had become impossible for him to keep his hands off you, especially once you started showing. “You’re too beautiful to resist.” He’d tell you.

You would often wake up to find him wrapped around you, nuzzling your bump and kissing it. He would find you at random times during the day, and pull you into a room or drag you to his office or your shared bedroom and fuck you until you were both completely spent.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He’d whisper each time.

You noticed he would be extra careful with you. His touch was soft, he would always fuck you nice and slow, always looking at you to confirm he wasn’t hurting you and that you were enjoying it as much as he was.

“You don’t have to be so careful all the time, you know?” You whispered to him one night, your hands running through his hair while he laid his head on your bump, kissing it occasionally. “I’m just pregnant, I’m not made of glass.”

He left a kiss on your bump then lifted his head to look up at you. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” He whispered, “Or the baby.”

You smiled at him, caressing his pretty face. “We’re okay. You worry too much.”

He kissed his way up your body, his hips settling in between your legs again. You giggled as he slid inside you again. It was the third, or fourth, time tonight.

“You never get tired these days, I see.” You whined, back arching off the bed slightly as his mouth latched on to your sensitive nipple while he moved in and out of you in a pace that made you lose your mind. He knew you were extra sensitive these days, and he took full advantage of that.

–

Lando ended up hiring a helper to aid you in taking care of the kids. But the kind lady ended up doing all the work and you’d often find yourself with nothing but free time to do whatever you wanted.

You went to Lando regarding this, and the moment you showed up in his office he pulled you onto his lap and helped you ride him instead.

“This is a serious…” You gasped as he lifted your hips up before bringing you down his cock again, “...problem.”

“Mhm,” He mumbled, lips wrapped around your nipple again. His hands held you by the hips and he slowly thrust up into you. “Is it?”

“Yes,” You argued, placing your hands on his shoulders. You looked down and smiled at your growing bump, before you glared at him, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Told me she was just here to help when in fact you hired her to do my actual work.”

He pulled his mouth away and smirked up at you. “You need rest, baby.” He thrust his hips up slightly harder, deeper each time until you were coming undone all over his cock again. It didn’t take much given how sensitive you were these days. When you both calmed down he said, “Now you have time to do all that you want.”

“I’m gonna get lazy.” You mumbled as you cuddled up to his side, your bump always got in the way but Lando still got as close as he could to you, wrapping his arms securely around you.

“You’re carrying our new baby, you’re allowed to be as lazy as you want.” He kissed you on the nose.

“So what, I’m just gonna be here doing nothing all day? Just read, and bake and make babies for you?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” He chuckled.

"Whatever." You groaned, “I’m too tired to be angry at you.”

He laughed. One of his hands reached out to caress your bump. “Let’s get you in bed.” He murmured against your forehead. “Okay, baby?”

You nodded.

–

By the time he got you cleaned up and in bed, you were already fast asleep. Lando checked on the kids one last time before climbing into bed with you. Pulling you close, he kissed you one more time.

Everything was perfect, just as he intended. There were some secrets he would take to his grave with him, some he would never share with you. Some truths he would never let come out; mainly the accident, and the fire.

But this right here was all that mattered, you and him together.

#lando norris #mob!lando #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #dark!lando

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faetreides · 1 month

Note

hey ryn!!!!! sooo i saw this (nsfw link incoming)

https://x.com/sexarchiv/status/1736871466501648453

and was desperate to hear your thoughts on this w patrick +++ art watching

love you love you🎖️💕

hi!!!!! i’m sorry this is so late but i went crazy over the link and art does a lil more than watch but i hope you like it 💘💘💘

cw: 18+ mdni, art and patrick make out during this (nsfw twt link), implied sub reader / switch patrick / dom art, one use of daddy, gross patrick who whines a lot, art being lowkey possessed by tashi (he’s on something in this one), nipple play (?), teasing, unedited

It’s a quiet night in with your boyfriends, there’s left over pizza in the fridge and the roku city background on the tv casts a soft purple glow over your shared bedroom. You’re too tired to get changed, the three of you lounge on the king sized bed in various states of undress. It’s supposed to snow during the night, so there’s just a sort of cozy vibe in the air. You really weren’t intending on being intimate with your boyfriends for the rest of the day, but absentminded strokes up Patrick’s sweaty torso quickly turn into palming his thick bulge in his boxers. Patrick softly groans, squirming and spreading his legs to give you better access.

Art slips his hand into his matching set of briefs and pumps his dick to hardness, synching his strokes up with yours. He shuffles up the bed to lie down right next to Patrick, using one arm to move Patrick to lay back against him. Art leans his head on Patrick’s, ready to tease and whisper whenever he sees him getting sensitive. Patrick automatically puckers his lips for a kis but Art cruelly denies him, not wanting to distract the other man from your touches. Somehow your hand manages to look small in comparison to Patrick’s girth, and Art squeezes his balls as he imagines it around his own length.

“He’s gonna cum too fast.” Art says, knowing that you don’t take control with Patrick like he does, but goading you on regardless.

“You just feel so good, ‘s not my fault.” Patrick moans as your thumb circles around his pinkish red cock head.

You dip your nail into the slit and lean down to let some of your saliva slowly drip down onto his aching cock. With the added lube, you pump your hand a few more times and put your wrist into it. You’re so lost in the deep groans coming from above you and seeing his pretty cock somehow pull off looking like it’s on the verge of tears that you almost forget that there’s an end goal to all of this. You’re just so in love and in actual awe of how gorgeous a dick can be, Patrick’s nastier overall but it only makes his cock look even better.

The tip is glistening and you peck it a couple times, grinning at the tiny beads of precum that trickle out of his slit. Art reflexively licks his lips and thumbs his own head, just enoying his partners playing with each other and being more than very appreciative of his favorite show. The atmosphere is so sleepy and relaxed that not many words are being spoken. It’s most a flurry of soft grunts, whines, and sweet nothings that are lost to the white noise from different sources around you.

“Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” Art coos, more at Patrick than you as he tilts his chin up with one finger and softly presses their lips together.

The kiss soon turns into a frenzied slide of their lips, swapping so much spit that their tongues actually hardly touch. You squeeze your thighs together before going back to what you were doing, trying your hardest to not cum on the spot because of them. You push your shirt down just under your tits, hissing as a rush of cold air hits your already hard and sensitive nipples. Patrick jumps like he’s been shot when you lower your full tits to brush against his weeping cock, circling your thumb around the head and tracing a vein or two.

He whines into his kiss with Art as you lower yourself even further to press your nipple into his tip. He stops being an active participation in the makeout session, too preoccupied with the teasing touch of your nipple gliding up and down his cock head. Something about your nipples being so small but so soft to the touch, getting him so worked up over the tiniest bit of flesh. It’s a feeling that’s akin to circling a vibrator around his length, but your nipples ghosting along his dick make him want to sob. He relases a symphony of broken sounds into Art’s lips, softly spoken and inhuman.

You grip the base of Patrick’s cock, holding it steady as you gingerly move your nipple up and down the tip. You take your time to really press it in deep, squishing it a bit as you force it all around him. This has you ready to cum too, the chilly air combined with how wet Patrick’s cock is sets your brain on fire, but you’re not about to have to clean your panties and be embarrassed. Art’s right, it doesn’t take much of you dragging your nipples over his slit and around his puffy tip before he’s oozing all over your hand and tits. You work him through his quick orgasm, slowing down the speed of your nipple and moving to drag it along his entire length now.

You even circle it around his balls, heartbreakingly slow but you’re not trying to make him blow his load again. Art soothes Patrick through his twitching, if the wet smacks of lazy french kisses are anything to go by.

You look up to see Art give you a two finger ‘come here’ gesture, and when you’ve crawled back up the bed to join them, you notice how damp his underwear is. Art pulls you into their kiss and drags your sticky hand to cover his soaked bulge, keeping it there as you spend no time rushing this languid embrace with your boyfriends. Before you know it they’ll be back on the court and all they’ll have time for is near bloody quickies in your shower until they head back out to practise.

Art hums, lifting his hand to pet you and Patrick, sucking both of your tongues and giggling at the whimpers you let out.

“It’s my turn now, hm?”

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laenordeservedbetter · 5 months

Text

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Words: 1k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)

Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.

Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.

masterlist || previous work

—

Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.

You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.

Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.

She hadn’t seen you before.

Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.

You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”

Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –

“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.

Oh.

Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.

You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.

C.L.R.

---

The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.

“…Alright, so you hold this and—”

---

It had been ages since that day.

Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.

Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.

“Clary?”

She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.

“I asked if you wanted to—”

“Yes.”

You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”

“Yes.”

“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.

Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.

You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”

Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.

“Thought so.” You deadpan.

“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”

“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”

Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.

“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.

Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.

“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.

“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.

Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.

Maybe it would be different this time.

She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.

Please, please, please let me get what I want.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson series

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strawberrynull · 3 months

Text

──⯎ ˙💄 ̟ strawberry lip balm

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: niki x afab!reader

──Genre: fluff

──Synopsis: After sleeping over Niki's house with some friends the night before, you accidentally left your favorite chapstick behind

──Warnings: cursing, kissing

──A/N: yall this literally took me only one hour

masterlist

You.

You were the only thing on Nishimura Riki's mind ever since he had found your strawberry lip balm sitting on his bathroom sink.

Last night, you and Jake slept over at Niki's place. The three of you had so much fun playing Mario Kart all night and ordering your favorite foods. Niki had watched you put on that strawberry lip balm at least 20 times last night. You were typically the type to leave things at people's house accidentally but he didn't think you would end up forgetting something so important to you.

Niki layed on his bed, staring at the small lip balm. It was pink and decorated with strawberries and pink lettering. He held it in between his fingers, rolling it to read the label for the hundredth time. He contemplated whether he wanted to show up at your door to give you your lip balm now or wait until you noticed it was gone.

The thought of you putting the lip balm on your plump lips flooded his mind once again. The scene played on repeat until it almost annoyed him. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration. Sure, he kinda liked you and kinda really wanted to kiss you but you were his friend. And his best friend was best friends with you too. Having the image of your blush tinted lips on his mind all day wasn't making his guilt any better.

He was even more guilty knowing that all he wanted right now was to taste your lips. Now he had your lip balm in his hand. It was an opportunity but would he feel super bad about it after? Absolutely.

Niki opened the cap of the lip balm. It had a red tint like a real strawberry and was a bit shimmery as well. The image of your lips flashed in his mind again. Maybe he would just quickly see how the lip balm smelled... He held the small pink lip balm under his nose. As you would expect, it smelled like artificial strawberries and had a hint of honey too.

The phone buzzed making him flinch, quickly closing the lip balm and tossing it to the side. Grabbing the phone, he read a text from you.

Y/n-ie♡Hey I think I left my lip balm at your house Can I come pick it up?

He immediately began typing back, telling you he had found it and he was at home.

Y/n-ie♡great I'll be over in 5

He sat up, feeling his face begin to heat. You had texted him right as he was smelling your lip balm. He felt like a total creep. Past that feeling, the desire to taste your lips still lingered, making him feel even worse.

Niki layed back down and turned to his side, eyeing the lip balm beside him. The idea of using your lip balm on his own lips popped into his mind. He quickly shook off the idea though. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to get you off his mind.

Not for long though.

He grabbed the lip balm, quickly pulling the cap off. He observed the way the flecks of glitter shimmered as he turned the lip balm. Hesitantly, he brought it up to lips. He swallowed before swiping the pink lip balm across his bottom lip. He frantically put the cap back on and threw it to the side once again. He felt horrible for using your things without your permission.

Niki licked his lips, tasting a mixture of strawberries and honey. Though he still wanted to know how it tasted on your lips.

Then there was a knock at the door. Fuck. 5 minutes had gone by too quickly. He shot up from his bed, grabbed the lip balm, and dashed toward the door. As soon as the door opened, his eyes darted to your lips. Still plump and pink even without your signature lip balm.

Great, way to go Niki.

"Hey Ki. I'm soooo glad you have my lip balm. I was looking for it all morning. I thought I was going crazy." You rambled as he tried his best to avoid looking down at your pretty lips.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Here." He said quickly, reaching out to hand you your lip balm, still avoiding eye contact. He still felt ashamed for what he had done a few seconds earlier.

You took the lip balm from his hand. Just as he was about to turn away you opened your mouth to speak again. "Riki," Shit, his full name. You noticed already. He snapped his gaze toward you. "Did you use my lip balm?"

"No."

"Yes you did. You have glitter on your lips." Fuck. You had caught him. He stood there in silence with a look of shock like a deer in headlights. You just laughed though. He had totally overstepped a boundary and you just laughed at it. "Ki, why'd you use mine? Don't you have like 30 of your own?"

"Well, I-" He stuttered. He didn't know what to tell you. Oh yeah I used your lip balm like a total freak because I wanted to know what your lips taste like. No fucking way he would tell you that.

You raised an eyebrow at him. In addition, you crossed your arms. He could never lie to you when you did that.

"I'm sorry." he started by apologizing. "I wanted to k- to kiss you but you know... friends don't do that. So uh.. I used the lip balm and I'm really sorry. It was weird, sorry." He stuttered, bowing his head to repeatedly apologize. Again, you just laughed. His guilty expression was replaced with a look of confusion.

"You could have just told me, Ki. Here," you pulled open your lip balm and spread it across your lips. "I gotchu."

Before Niki could process what was happening, you had put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss him. Your lips were so much softer than he could have ever imagined. The taste of strawberries and honey returned to his taste buds but a hundred times better this time. Just one kiss had him feeling dizzy. Subconsciously, he grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"As good as you imagined?" You whispered against his lips. You felt his arms wrap around you fully, hugging you tight against his body.

"Better." He said before pressing his lips onto yours again.

1K notes · View notes

ywuji · 3 months

Text

yuuji doesn’t think he buys you things often, but your bed full of stuffed animals says otherwise. (f!reader, plushie humping and them watching u fuuuuck)

often times when he goes out with friends or on missions, yuuji will come back with little trinkets or toys he thought you would like.

he doesn’t listen when you tell him you have nowhere to put them—when he gifts them to you, he’ll just smile his giddiest smile, hoping you’ll forget about that for a moment.

it's funny because he’ll come over to your tiny uni room down the hall from his own, see his gifts taking up the majority of your space that you’re meant to have, and he’ll still have a mind to think of other things he could get you!!

‘the more the merrier!’ is the sentiment of all of his lighthearted protests when you bring it up in conversation—and he’s genuine with that—but there’s also something else.

something about those times when either you or him are away and you’re missing each other, him telling you to call him—voice or video, ‘whichever you prefer, cutie’—and the conversation ending up in him talking you through straddling his favourite stuffie of the day and grinding your sweet little wet cunnie on it.

"does he feel good, sweetie? …yeah. y'sound so pretty... mhmm, sound so good, my love. keep going, baby."

"nonono, you’re doing great, honey. i know you’re tired, but it’ll be over soon, yeah? just a little more and you can cum… yeeaahh that’s it, princess, doing so well f’me."

"f-fuck… l-look so cute, baby… can you see? ’m leaking so much. …mhm, ‘s all you, pretty girl, ‘s all f’you."

or the other times, when he spends the night at yours, and you touch and you kiss, and the next thing you know is that you’re pushed into the bed, surrounded by your dear stuffies, whining and mewling as yuuji hungrily looms over you, pumping his thick cock into your wet, messy heat.

“yuuji..! a-ah! ‘s too much, ji—ah!” you whimper, voice struggling to come out of your throat every time he pushes into you. he knew from your previous three orgasms he gave that you're reaching your limit, and he’d pull away if he knew you wanted him to, but the way you’re grasping at his toned back, his beautiful neck, and his tousled hair, pulling him closer, deeper into you—he knows you can take it.

“pussy so fuckin’ good, princess… l-love it so much—f-fuck! s-so good for me, baby,” he caresses your precious head, brushing hair out your face and staring right into your eyes as he pushes himself in further into you. the waft of his breath heating your cheeks as he praises you, “suckin’ me in s-so—fuck—tight…“

“‘m close, ji! s-so good! ohmygod…!” you grip onto him impossibly tight, fingers digging into his thick, muscular shoulders.

“h-haah—y-yeah? me t-too... where can i cum, baby?” he pants, his whimpers that you love so much becoming louder.

“inside! insideinside! please inside! pleaseplease—please!” you choke out. you don’t have to wait a moment longer before he’s pounding into you like your lives depend on it, fat cock drilling you at an angle, stretching you out and hitting all those right spots only he can reach.

“c-cumming…! ‘m cu—!“ his lips crash into yours, swallowing your sweet sounds as you cum and cream around his cock, legs wrapping tightly around him feeling ropes of his thick, hot cum spurting into you as you both shake and tremble from your orgasms.

he lowers the rest of his body onto you, being careful not to crush you. his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, whispering little praises and tender words of affection. ‘love you so so much, baby’, ‘did so well for me, pretty’, ‘look so beautiful when you cum’. with his sweaty front now pressed to yours, he lays still. warming his cock inside your cunt to let the both of you ride out your blissful highs.

his head comes up to look into your dazed eyes as you gently cup his hot cheeks. he smiles and chuckles breathily, littering quick kisses from your lips to your chest, licking and sucking cheekily at your nipples, leaving a few lovebites on your breasts.

moving to sit up on his knees, he looks down at where the two of you connect, softly rocking his hips and moving circles over your sensitive clit, watching the sticky white ring of your mixed orgasms coat his cock with each slow thrust.

you whine and hold out shaky fingertips to his hips. he grins, pulling his cock out painstakingly slow, watching his cum leak out of you, collecting it up with his fat cockhead, and pushing it back into you with one last gentle thurst.

“yuuji...” you mewl out with a small pout on your face.

“yeah, honey?” he looks at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“...they were watching the whole time.” you point to the little crowd of plushies who are all faced towards you, an odd feeling washing over you as you realise your shared stuffed ‘children’ witnessed the two of making love right in front of their plastic eyes.

he shrugs nonchalantly, a tired smile on his face “it’s not that bad.” he teases.

“wha-?! what do you mean…?!”

“they’ll just learn a few things,” he smiles playfully at your puzzled expression. “y’know? like how to be in love and… how it feels to know someone truly.” he nods his head and purses his lips as if he's just said something deep.

“you’re so stupid.”

#ywuji #i locked in for this one #or did i #yuuji ban for me until i can write about someone else (maybe) (unconfirmed) (prolly not)#itadori smut #yuuji itadori smut #yuji itadori x reader #itadori headcanons #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk x you

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iiping · 1 year

Text

kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀

read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶

—

“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.

Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.

Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”

Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.

“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.

Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.

Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.

Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?

Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.

He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.

Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.

“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”

Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.

“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.

“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”

Then she takes off before he can say another word.

Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.

He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.

“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”

Oh. Shit.

A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”

He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.

“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”

“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”

“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”

Alhaitham looks at him silently.

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”

The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.

Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.

Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”

“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”

Kaveh blinks.

“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.

“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.

“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”

That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.

Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.

“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”

When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.

Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.

“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”

“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.

“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”

Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.

The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.

Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.

Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.

“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”

After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”

Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.

“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.

“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”

“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.

“Hey!”

“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”

“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”

The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.

“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”

The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.

The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.

Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.

And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?

He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.

“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.

So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.

(END)

#happy birthday kave uwuwuwuwuw #the love of my life #genshin impact #kaveh #myart #alhaitham #kavetham #haikaveh fic #kavetham fic #mywriting #haikaveh #haikavetham #just realized i spelled kaveh wrong in the first tag like wat

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