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lightsoutletsgo · 2 months

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girl dad — mv.1

pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, obvs mentions of babies and kids, fluff, the briefest flash of angst and nostalgia hi loves! so this is the result of the absolute brainrot me and @verstappen-cult got stuck in yesterday discussing how max is such a girl dad. I actually really like this one so I hope you like it too! as always please leave any feedback, I always love reading the tags to find out how I can improve my work and what you want to see more of! happy reading! mimi 🤍

Max groaned softly as a heavy weight suddenly landed on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a perfect reflection of them staring back at him. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as his arms wrapped around his daughter and he cuddled her close to him, “Good morning little flower,” his voice was gentle and low so as to not wake you up, “did you have exciting dreams last night?” His hand smoothed over Esmee’s hair as she nodded, arm wrapping round her soft plush bunny even tighter as she curled up on his chest. “Well I’m glad to hear that…” They were both still and silent for a moment and Max thought she may have even drifted back off, until she popped up, sitting on his tummy, her hand bringing her bunny’s ear up to her face to gently rub it across her cheek in a soothing motion. Max’s heart clenched as he stared at his baby girl, where was the time going? Just yesterday it seemed like she was still a tiny newborn that he cradled so carefully yet awkwardly.

“Mama sleep?” The two year old pointed to you lying next to him, your head resting against his shoulder as your chest rose and fell steadily. Max nodded and over exaggerated placing a finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. The toddler giggled, a sweet sound that made Max smile. Max looked at the clock that sat on his bedside table and noticed how early it was and how dark it still was outside, “It’s so early flower! The sun is still sleeping.” Esmee pouted in that sweet funny way only toddlers can and pointed to her tummy, “Hungry papa!” Max made a noise of understanding and scooped her up in his arms, standing and silently padding across the room to leave you sleep. He carried her through the hallways of your family home in Monaco and he relished in the way Esmee snuggled into his neck, finding comfort and warmth in the way he felt each of her short little breaths against his neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and slowed his pace down a little, enjoying the time he had. It was quiet, barely five in the morning, the sun only just beginning to creep up in the sky. The traffic was still light outside, just the hiss of the garbage truck and the occasional siren in the distance. He softly strolled down the hallway, hand rubbing and down Esmee’s back in the way he’d done ever since the first time he held her.

As he got to the kitchen, he placed Esmee down in her chair, not a baby high chair anymore but taller than the rest of your chairs to accommodate her short body. She let out a whine at losing his body heat and attention and he turned back to see her holding her arms out to him, begging to be picked back up. ‘Like mother like daughter’ Max thought, knowing full well he was unable to say no to either of you. He picked her up and placed her over one arm, tickling her tummy with his free hand when her gleeful giggle sounded around the room knowing she’d gotten her own way. Max knew that anyone who looked at him for just a few seconds would see that he was completely wrapped around his daughter’s tiny finger. Just as Mama and Papa were her whole world, she was theirs.

“What should we have for breakfast Es hm?” Max opened the fridge and looked at the contents, thinking what he could make for all of you, “should we make some for Mama too?” Esmee nodded, excited as Max mentions you. “Panpan papa!” Max laughed as she did her best to say the word ‘pancake’, “Okay then flower, pancakes it is!” Max had watched you make them so many times he was pretty confident in the recipe, knowing it would be in your recipe book on the island if he really needed guidance. Esmee clapped her hands and Max sat her on the counter next to where he was standing, “You want to help?” She nodded and a serious expression took over her face, Max smiled and kissed her forehead before he gathered the ingredients he needed from various cupboards and the fridge. “Okay then flower, let’s do this!” Max pulled the measuring cups from the drawer in front of him and held the correct one out to Esmee. She took it, her pudgy little legs kicking in excitement as her face lit up in glee. Max held out the bag of flour and wrapped his hand around hers to help her dig the right amount out of the bag. He let her tip it into the bowl on her own, her tongue poking out in concentration. Once she was finished, she beamed up at him and he gave a cheer, encouraging her for her efforts, “Good job flower!” She practically bounced on the counter, excited to be making pancakes with her Papa and for a moment Max almost wished you were awake to take a picture of this moment, so that even when he was old and his memory started fading, he would still be able to remember.

He pulled himself back to the present, not wanting to miss looking at her for a second. He was unable to help the way yet another fond smile creeps across his face as he watched her gasp as she spilt some of the sugar on the counter top but he was quick to reassure her, “It’s okay flower! Mess is okay sometimes.” Her worried expression fell and she was back to staring at the bowl intently as she added the next ingredient. Max handed Esmee an egg, “You’ve done this bit with Mama before, haven’t you flower?” Esmee nodded but still looked at him and held the egg back out to him, “Papa help please?” He leaned down to rub his nose against hers and she giggled trying to push his face away, “Papa tickles!” Max relented and placed his hands over hers to gently tap the egg against the counter and add it to the bowl. He disposed of the shell before helping Esmee lift the milk carton to tip it into the bowl. When they’d added all the ingredients, Max grabbed a whisk and turns to the toddler, “Should Papa do this part?” Esmee nods, “Papa strong!” “Mhmm, Papa is suuuuper strong!” Esmee shrieked with delight as Max threw her into the air once to prove his point before placing her back down, hand ruffling her hair before he began to mix the ingredients together.

Esmee grabbed her bunny and Max gave a fond smile, remembering how it was one of the first things you’d picked out together when you were expecting her. Max allowed himself to reminisce as he remembered how he had been so desperate to have a son, he’d been so sure Esmee would be a boy. He had even told you that he hoped it wasn’t a girl, a point you hadn’t taken too kindly to and had quickly shut down. Max could still remember the conversation like it was yesterday… “Max you cannot be serious.” Your hands were planted firmly on your hips as you shot a cold glare at him and he cowered ever so slightly, “Schat I just meant that-” “No no, Max. I understood what you meant perfectly.” Max was silent, knowing he had no defence against you, “You want a boy to carry on the Verstappen name? You think a daughter can’t go into Formula One? You think a daughter won’t do great things and make you proud just because she’s a woman? What about me? Do you think less of me because I’m a woman?” Max sighed as your ranting stopped.

“I’m worried about what the world of F1 would do to her…” You pulled back, having never heard him speak so quietly or softly before, he sank down onto the couch, “You know how horrible it can be…” You nodded understandingly, “I do, yes…” “Then you know what kind of things she will have to face.” You took a seat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly, “But she will have you to have her back and protect her from as much of it as you can…” You did your best to calm his mind and he took a deep breath, “I know schat… but also… I don’t know how to be a girl dad! I don’t know how to do hair or how to play with barbies or how to teach her about…” his voice quietened, “periods…” You couldn’t help the way a laugh left you and Max whined at you, “Stop laughing! I’m serious!”

You planted a kiss against his cheek and sat back against the couch, inviting him to lay his head in your lap near your tummy, something that had become your new routine every evening. Max plopped down and your hand immediately started playing with his hair as he rested one hand on your bump. “I know it’s scary… but you have plenty of time to learn as you go! You’re bound to make mistakes love, we both are… she’ll teach you how she wants to play with you and hey, maybe she’ll be into cars more than barbies!” Max kissed your bump and smiled, “And I think you should probably leave the period talk to me…” He laughed heartily and nodded before turning to your bump once more, “Hi baby… It’s me… your Papa… W-we don’t know what you are yet,” He looked up at you and you nodded at him reassuringly, “but whether you turn out to be a boy or girl we’ll love you so so much. We already love you so much.” You hand continued through his hair as his eyes closed, “You’re going to love being a girl dad…” One eye cracked open as he stared at you, “You sound sure it’s a girl?” “Call it pregnant woman intuition…”

“Mama!” A call of your name and Esmee’s hand patting his arm pulled him from his memories and he turned to see you watching in the doorway, the most peaceful and loving expression on your face, you crossed the kitchen having been caught and swept your toddler up in your arms, blowing raspberries on her tummy and feeling your heart squeeze at her little giggles, “Good morning flower!” You sat her up in your arms and her little hands held your face as she gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, you laughed and walked back to the counter, gently placing her back down, “What are you doing with Papa hmm?” Esmee pointed at the bowl with wide eyes, “Panpan Mama!” You gasped and widened your own eyes, mimicking her excitement, “You’re making pancakes? Mama’s favourite?” Esmee nodded and her little legs started kicking again. You turned to Max and placed your chin on his shoulder, “Good morning handsome.” he turned his head to kiss your forehead, “Good morning schat.” He put the whisk down and turned to pull you into his arms, “What time did she wake up?” You pulled away from him and headed to the fridge to get some milk for her sippy cup, “Around five…” Max winced and you smiled, “Sorry I stayed asleep,” Max waved your apology away, “Don’t apologise, you need the sleep schatje.”

His eyes fell to the slight swell of your stomach and thanked every star above that he was lucky enough to have a beautiful wife, a sweet toddler and one more on the way. You bustled around the kitchen, tidying here and there as Max started cooking breakfast. You crossed back to Esmee to give her her sippy cup and she patted your tummy gently as you stood in front of her, “A’morning baby!” You felt a small flutter in your tummy and you booped her nose, “Baby says ‘good morning Esmee!’”

Max felt a huge smile fill his face as he took in the interaction next to him, he turned to you, crossing his arms as he waited for the next pancake to cook before he flipped it over, “You know… I really won’t mind if this one is a girl too…” You looked at him from where you stood and raised one eyebrow with a smirk, “Oh no?” Max let out a breath of laughter, flippin the pancake in the pan, “Yeah yeah, go ahead and laugh…” You shook your head, “Told you you’d love being a girl dad…” Max tipped the cooked pancake on the plate, turned the stove off and crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder so he could watch Esmee tucking into her pancakes with all the vigour a hungry two year old could muster, his voice was quiet, “And what’s your pregnant woman's intuition saying about this one then hmm?” he kissed your neck softly and your head tipped back with a happy hum, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you are destined to be a girl dad…” He laughed and kissed your neck once more.

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And five months later when Anneleise is born, Max stares at her in awe with tears in his eyes as this tiny precious bundle is carefully placed into his arms, “Hi baby girl, I’m your Papa…” Her only response is a big yawn for such a small person and an even bigger stretch as she nestles into his chest, recognising his voice. He isn’t sure why you’re suddenly chuckling to yourself but when he looks up, you’ve got tears in your own eyes as you film him sitting in the hospital chair doing skin to skin with your new daughter. It’s only then that he realises he’s crying. He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, instead, looking back down at Anneleise and softly tracing her tiny features. You watch on and smile, noting how he’s much more assured in how he holds this baby, how he talks to her and you know that just like when Esmee was born, he is instantly wrapped around her finger. You know that just like the promises he made about protecting Esmee and always being there for her, ring true for this daughter as well. You know you’re looking at a man who will attend tea parties, drive his girls to the karting track and to ballet lessons, will do his best to braid their hair, will sing disney songs in the car and paint their nails to the best of his abilities. You know that when your girls get older he will buy them ice cream after a breakup, teach them how to drive, help them revise for exams, support them in their dreams and cry when he watches them get married. Because forever and always, Max is a girl dad. And later on when Max watches the video you had filmed earlier - and every time after that - he hears your voice, making him smile,

“Max Verstappen, you are such a girl dad.”

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#mimi.writes #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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harstyle · 4 months

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the styles’ nanny

Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 7.3k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet

A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.

And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.

It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.

But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”

She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.

“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”

Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.

“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”

Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.

Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”

“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”

He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”

“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”

Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

—

“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”

“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”

Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.

But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”

“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”

Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”

“Please, I just want ice cream.”

It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.

“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”

He merely shook his head.

Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore

Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.

Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.

Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.

“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”

She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”

Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.

“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”

“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”

He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.

“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”

In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.

Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.

“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”

“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”

“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”

“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”

He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”

And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.

Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”

She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.

She could probably indulge a little then, right?

“Yeah, I do.”

He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.

“You can now?”

“Yes.”

He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.

What the fuck was that?

Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.

It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.

So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.

And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.

A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.

It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.

“Daddy?”

Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.

Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”

He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re still here.”

She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”

He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.

“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”

Her stomach did another flip.

Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!

Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.

“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”

He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”

Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”

“Missed you, daddy.”

She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.

Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”

In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”

“Will you be here too, Y/N?”

Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.

But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”

To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”

Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”

“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”

“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”

It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.

After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”

“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”

She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”

She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.

“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”

She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”

He hummed in agreement.

She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.

“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Kay. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.

“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”

“It’s my job to be good to him.”

“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”

“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”

The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.

So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.

She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”

His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”

“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”

It was a lie, of course it was.

“Fine.”

As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.

Shit.

—

Y/N was crying.

She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?

And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.

Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.

She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.

There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.

But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.

“Y/N?”

She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What had she done?

“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”

“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“

“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”

“The viper.”

“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”

“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.

When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.

“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”

He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.

He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.

After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”

And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.

“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.

“Harry, I’m sor—“

“Drink the water.”

She almost flinched at his angry tone.

Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”

All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.

“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”

Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.

In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”

She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?

“What?”

“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”

The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.

He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.

Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”

Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it

“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”

He truly did have a point there, she supposed.

But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”

“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”

“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.

“What do you mean?”

He couldn’t be so daft, could he?

“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”

That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.

She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”

He was probably right about that.

“Okay.”

As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.

He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”

“Um, if you have something?”

She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.

He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”

Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”

Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.

When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.

Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You’re really nice t’me.”

“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”

“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.

What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.

He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.

It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.

He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.

There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.

It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.

He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.

He would lie awake until sunrise.

—

Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.

God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.

After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”

“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.

He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.

Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.

He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.

“I— are you okay?”

It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”

“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“

His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”

Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.

But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?

“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”

And that… well, was partly right.

“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”

Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.

“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“

“I know that—“

“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”

Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.

There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.

“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”

“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”

Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”

He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”

“You act like I don’t know that!”

“Evidently you don’t.”

“Yes I d—“

“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”

It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.

Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.

Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.

“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”

She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.

She’d fucked up so badly.

And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.

part two!

And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles series

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strawbeerossi · 5 months

Text

Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on.

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face.

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list.

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!”

Penelope and Luke. Classic.

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling.

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!”

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick.

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book.

It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly.

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part.

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you.

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look.

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family.

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.”

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely.

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good.

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back.

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around.

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car.

After dinner and baths were in order, it wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?”

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return.

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes.

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs.

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head.

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started.

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking.

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him.

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one.

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his.

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now.

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot.

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you.

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan.

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return.

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride.

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good.

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage.

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well.

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth.

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.”

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.”

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible.

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to.

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow.

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!”

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso.

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer

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seonghwaddict · 5 months

Text

blue bird — choi san, jung wooyoung

in which one of the most dangerous men in the city approaches you with an offer, but how would you have known it would turn into something more?

mafia boss!choi san x fem!reader x mafia boss!jung wooyoung. genre. fluff, smut, mafia au. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, unprotected sex, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, slight corruption, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, fingering, reverse cowgirl position, pussy drunk wooyoung??, subspace??, cum swallowing, san is a little mean, wooyoung likes to tease, lots of teasing, hair pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk like a lot of it, brief begging, praise, overuse of the word pretty, pet names (doll, princess, baby, pretty girl, good girl, baby doll, pretty little slut). i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know. wc. 6.9k.

lilo’s notes. hiii happy new year everyone!! this is dedicated to @garlichoisan, surprise! i was your secret santa :3 i’m sorry but i completely forgot to write angst and couldn’t find a way to squeeze it in, please forgive me 😭😭 i think i got a little carried away with the smut, it’s probably not my best since i’m not very experienced in writing it but i hope you like it and this as a whole!!

　　　　　　　　　masterlist

choi san wanted you in a rather unexpected way.

not in a friendly way or a sexual way, but actually in a professional way. ever since he’d heard of what you, the so called “blue bird,” were up to, he knew you’d be a valuable asset. shortly after he heard about you, he was quick to tell wooyoung about what he had learned from idling in a bar he’d never been to.

it was an early morning. so early that the sun hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t bother san. he preferred quieter, intimate spaces rather than the bustling clubs of grey city. as he sipped on his whiskey, the two men beside him got to talking. neither of them were very memorable, if anything they looked too similar; not intimidating in any way. still, he made a mental note of the guns attached to their hips. it was nothing very interesting, small talk from what he could tell. well, at least until they mentioned an odd name.

“did you hear what she did?”

“who?” one of them, the one with comically thick glasses, said as he blew out some cigarette smoke.

“well… ya know…” his voice lowered to a whisper, though in his drunken state it was less of a discreet whisper and more of a loud hiss, “the blue bird.”

he gave a sound of recognition. “wonderful heist, wasn’t it?”

“indeed,” he laughed, a deep chortle, “she was here tellin’ ricky all about it yesterday. flawless, flew in and out like a ghost.” he sighed blissfully, as if he had been there to watch you work.

now this. this is what caught infamous mafia boss choi san’s attention.

“more like a bird!” the bespectacled man nudge his friend with his elbow, a high pitched giggle leaving him. “get it? because she’s called bl-”

the friend held his hand up with a deadpan expression. “yes, i get it.”

the two men talked about you some more (“pretty thing she is, isn’t she?” “mhm, heard she’s actually quite sweet too. odd thing to hear about an outlaw.”), but san tuned them out again. with an important upcoming mission, he needed someone capable of doing exactly what these two men had described. he needed someone like you. preferably, you.

going off of what he had heard, he frequented that bar, hoping you’d happen to be there at the same time. he sat at the same seat at the same counter every night and always ordered the same thing. he noticed that after the first two nights he was there, no one really sat next to him. presumably because they recognised him and opted to avoid him instead of doing anything.

not that he cared, this part of town was known to be filled with people of the rebellious type; people like him who despised the government and would stop at nothing to take it down. if anything, they most likely respected him and his business. but alas, that doesn’t matter much in this particular story, does it?

wooyoung even offered to take turns visiting the bar, curious to see this mysterious person as well. but two weeks passed and no sign of you. most of the people there were the same every time he went, he was sure he would’ve noticed a new face at some point.

fortunately, his efforts became successful.

as usual, no one sat directly beside him, leaving one or two barstools between him and whatever other patron sat at the counter. or so he thought. the usual bartender passed him and came to a stop. confused and thinking the bartender stopped for him despite already sipping on his drink, san tilted his head. but it soon became evident that he wasn’t there for him, but rather for the pretty woman he didn’t notice sitting beside him.

“the usual?” the bartender asked, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he looked at you, his hands busy drying a glass.

san heard a brief chuckle beside him, prompting him to take a proper look at you. the first thing he noticed were your lips. plump and red, smooth lipstick. then the slope of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the thin straps of your silky black dress, jacket hanging by your elbows. the soft yellow-tinted lighting bounced off your rich skin and perfect hair in an almost hypnotising way. there was something enchanting about your aura, your posture, you.

he forced himself to look away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“yes, thank you.” you replied, nodding at the bartender as he turned to prepare your drink.

“one hot chocolate for our blue bird coming right up!”

blue bird.

this time san couldn’t stop himself from looking. so it was you.

the men from the other day weren’t lying when they called you a pretty little thing. you wore a silky black dress and a black fur jacket to protect you from the cold wind of the night. as his eyes roamed over you they got caught on your plump thighs. briefly, he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked but soon enough something else caught his attention. as you shifted in your seat, he caught a glimpse of the inside of your jacket, a quick glint reflecting from inside told him you were indeed carrying a weapon. he made sure to keep that in the back of his mind.

a man such as himself, wide shouldered and intimidating, was hard to ignore. if you didn’t notice him staring from the corner of your eyes, you were sure the heat of his stare would’ve burned a hole through your skin. needless to say, he had caught your attention as well, except you seemed to be better at hiding it.

once the momentary shock subsided, he smiled. the fact that such a dangerous person would regularly order hot chocolates from a bar was amusing to him.

noticing the change in expression, you glance at him. what the hell? seeing a man grinning at you was unsettling. a man with such broad shoulders who could probably easily overpower you. his face looked familiar, you realised, but couldn’t quite attach a name to it quite yet.

unsure of what to do and what this man may want from you, you turned away and engaged in a conversation with the bartender as he prepared your drink, all the while ignoring the man at your side. as soon as you finished your drink, you placed some cash on the counter and got up, swiftly walking out of the bar.

while your goal was to get away, you didn’t take the fact that he might follow you into account.

“don’t go yet, little outlaw, i’d like to talk to you about something.”

his voice was rather calm and even, but still left minimal room for discussion. you rolled your eyes before turning around with a completely different expression—eyes wide and innocent, lashes fluttering, eyebrows raised.

“you must be mistaken, sir, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

he chuckled and took some steps forward and that’s when you recognised him. shit. he slowly walked over to you, speaking to you in that same calm voice with a sprinkle of cockiness somewhere in it. “playing dumb? really? for someone as smart as yourself i’d expect you to know that the 1 billion won bounty on your head doesn’t hide you.”

you sighed at his words, taking steps back to maintain the distance. there was no use continuing the innocent act, snapping at him, “what do you want?”

“do you know who i am?”

“of course i do, the whole city does. do you think i live under a rock?” you scoffed a laugh.

he dismissed your sarcasm, being used to having to deal with such cheeky mouths. “i have an offer.” when you didn’t reply, he continued. “help me and my… business partner with a heist.”

that was not what you expected.

“hmm… no, thanks.” you smiled up at him but nearly faltered as your back hit the wall of an alley you had unknowingly backed yourself into. you cursed yourself silently as he stood right in front of you, so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact.

“i wasn’t asking, darling.” he looked down at you, expression nearly sneering as he held an air of superiority about him. “you either agree or you’ll wake up behind bars tomorrow morning.”

“you can’t arrest me or turn me in, they’ll forget all about me since you’re the more wanted one out of the two of us.” you spoke matter-of-factly, a cocky tilt to the corner of your lips.

“i never said i would be the one to turn you in, little outlaw.”

“you know,” you hummed and moved your arms. his first assumption was that you were reaching for the dagger he glimpsed inside your jacket earlier, instinctively catching your wrists in his grasp as your words died in your throat and your breath hitched. he shifted his grip to place both of your wrists in one hand, holding them up above your head as his free hand nudged your jacket open, revealing the dagger.

he clicked his tongue patronisingly and fished it out delicately. his eyes shifted to yours, eyebrows raising in a silent question as he tossed the weapon over his shoulder. the metal blade clinked and echoed in the barren alleyway. he kept your wrists in his hold but lowered your arms, holding them at the height of your hips.

he leaned forward, speaking into your ear lowly as you suppressed a shudder. “you may continue.”

you glared at him and had the sudden urge to punch the shit eating grin off his face. “what’s in it for me?”

“um…” his face went blank and he leaned back to look at you, clearly not a single thought processing behind those cat-like eyes. “is there anything you want in particular?”

“protection.” you said simply, tilting your head.

“oh,” he nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in confusion but he kept his eyes on you. “but can’t you find that in any store?”

he felt a hit against his shin as you kicked him lightly. “ew not that. i meant… well, doing what i do, there’s a lot of people after me. you have the means to have some of your guys make sure i don’t run into any trouble.”

san nodded understandingly, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. not that you minded. “that’s perfectly possible, yes.”

you exhaled, relieved. warm air fanning against his neck as you did so. “okay, then, i’m in. so what is it you need me to do?”

this time he released your wrists completely and took a step back, reaching into an inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a little card with one hand as the other brought your hand up.

he brushed his hand over your closed fist, opening your fingers up to reveal your palm, placing the card in your palm before gently nudging your fingers to close over it. in a swift move, he turned your hand around and bowed forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to your knuckles—eyes locked on yours as you stared back at him in bewilderment.

he lifted his lips, smirking at you as he straightened up, hands moving to the bottom of his blazer and tugging, stretching the wrinkles away. “i expect to see you tomorrow at dusk, little blue bird.”

with a wink, he turned on his heels and walked away. you watched him, listening to the echoing footsteps as he left the alley and disappeared around a corner, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall with burning cheeks.

you weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived at the address on the card choi san gave you. perhaps an underground bunker that looked nothing like the breathtaking estate you stood in front of.

the building was tucked within a small forest far from the outskirts of night city. the architecture seemed foreign and classical, a building you’d roam through whilst listening to tchaikovsky or chopin—not a building you’d expect to scheme against the government in. though, you supposed in some aspects it fit the aesthetic san had going on. sipping whiskey in a fully tailored suit, the smell of cigarette smoke and mint heavy in the air around him.

you walked up to the grand double doors, taking a moment to admire the intricate carvings before ringing the bell. less than a minute later, the right door swung open to reveal a stranger.

he wore wide dark jeans and a black and white plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his chiselled collarbones and practically half of his torso. his black hair was slicked back with a few strands framing his face with the dainty square glasses he wore, some hanging silver earrings on display. he was, completely objectively speaking, handsome.

his eyes roamed over you, taking in your appearance before smiling and crossing his arms, leaning his side against the door as he pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head. you noticed a mole on his face—a small dot just under his left eye. “so you’re the little outlaw san told me about, huh?”

“yes, and you are?” you knew who he was, of course, but pleasantries were pleasantries nonetheless.

“jung wooyoung, but you already knew that.”

you chuckled and put your arms up in surrender, “oh no, i’ve been caught.”

his laugh was rather high pitched as he ushered you in. “come in, it gets cold at night.”

he led you through the house, stopping by what he referred to as his office but really looked like a sitting room with soft lighting and a desk to grab some rolled up papers before continuing the walk. the interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; intricate paintings and marble floors. wooyoung smiled as he saw the awe-stricken look on your face.

he led you to another set of double doors, pushing both of them open and stepping through without looking back to make sure you were following. now this was an office.

your jaw nearly dropped as you walked into the room, spinning a full circle to gawk at the various bookshelves that lined the walls and high ceiling that looked like it came straight out of the sistine chapel. a large fireplace cast a warm, yet still dark, glow over the room, making it look that much more impressive. a graceful vintage couch with two matching armchair were placed in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table nestled between the seats and the source of light and warmth.

the floor creaked with every step you took, being made of dark wooden planks instead of marble.

you flinched as you heard san’s familiar voice snapping you out of your stupor. “pick your jaw up, you might catch flies.”

at the sound of his voice, you whipped around and glared at him after quickly pulling yourself together. he was sat in a leather chair at his impressive desk, wooyoung sat (balanced) on the arm of the chair.

you walked over and stood across from them in front of the desk. “it’s a nice house, are you two the only ones that live here?”

wooyoung took the chance to answer. “sometimes. there’s six others that are part of our… syndicate, but they stay in other places, surrounding grey city.”

“enough of that.” san waved his hand dismissively and leaned forward. as he did so, your eyes were drawn to his chest. he wore a white button up, though it appeared to be a bit tight judging by the way the fabric around the buttons strained every time he moved. your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of them brought it up. “woo, the plans, please.”

the plan was set to take place the months after you had met with them for the first time. this gave you three to prepare, to memorise the layout and every detail about the building you’ll be infiltrating. for this preparation, you frequented their estate often—nearly every day—and spent hours with them. two weeks in, they offered you one of their guest bedrooms to stay in.

at first wooyoung got on your nerves, but soon enough you grew accustomed to his antics—the clinginess, the teasing. eventually, you even found yourself liking it and seeking it out.

san was slightly more reserved at first, more serious. but soon he, too, let down his guard. encouraging words, affectionate touches.

the more time you spent with them, the more you found yourself relaxing, letting them handle you with care instead of pushing them away like you used to with so many people before them. and eventually you, dare you say, began liking them.

you couldn’t deny the way san’s sharp snd perceptive eyes made you want to squirm under his gaze as he watched you bend over his desk to point something out on the building’s floor plan. you couldn’t deny the way his gentle commands (“do this for me please.” “come here, princess.”) had butterflies roaring in your stomach.

and wooyoung. while san was indeed quite physically affectionate, it was nothing compared to wooyoung. lingering touches and smooth words. sometimes you’d be grabbing something in kitchen and he’d come by, pulling you aside by your hips to grab something. later that day you’d offered to cook something up for dinner, but he only tutted and lifted you by your waist to place you on the marble island counter (“i don’t trust you in my kitchen, baby. just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”). jung wooyoung was a flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

two days before the heist, you walked into san’s office after waking up and not being able to find woo. in the time you’d spent with them, you had learned that san acquired the bigger and fancier office by winning a game of rock paper scissors.

as you opened the door, the cat-eyed man looked up from whatever he was working on, smiling as he watched you yawn and stretch on your way over to him. he gave you a once over; you wore an oversized shirt, the collar shifted and hanging over one shoulder, the end of the shirt ending halfway down your thighs.

“sleep well?” he asked, putting his pen down as you stopped in front of the desk. he’d woken up not too long before you, still in his sleepwear, hair tussled but somehow still perfect.

you nodded, your voice soft in your sleepy state, “where’s woo?”

“he went out to get stuff for dinner,” he chuckled as he heard the slight concern in your voice. he pushed his chair back slightly and patted his lap. “come sit here while i work, princess.”

you grinned and walked around the desk, claiming his lap as your seat. you leaned back against him, back pressed to his front. he kissed your exposed shoulder chastely and got back to work. you tried to look down at his papers to see what he was doing, but the way his unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist and shifted you slightly (in a way that accidentally made his thigh rub against certain areas) had your mind going blank, unable to focus on anything other than his touch.

though you couldn’t see it, san also had a hard time focusing. every time you moved, your ass brushed over his pelvis. it was clear he didn’t think it through when he told you to sit on him since now he was having a hard time holding himself back, a bulge growing in his sweatpants.

you shifted again, trying to find a position where none of his body parts rubbed against your core, and he sucked a sharp breath in. his hands practically flew to your hips to hold you still.

“princess, i need you to sit still or i might go crazy, okay?” he spoke softly into your ear, hot breaths brushing against your skin and making you shiver, a fact he noticed and made him smirk. maybe he was already going crazy, but just a little more wouldn’t hurt, right?

he kept his lips by your ear for a moment before moving down slightly, placing them just below your earlobe. it was your turn for your breath to hitch, tilting your head to give him more space. he nearly groaned at the subtle act of submission, burying his face into your skin and kissing his way down to the crook of your neck.

time seemed to slow as his hands tightened on your hips, he scraped his teeth along your neck before biting down gently, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a breathy whine. when the sound left your lips, he froze.

when you noticed he wasn’t doing anything, you whined again and rolled your hips over his pelvis, dropping your head back on his shoulder. the action surprised yourself too. you’d had sex, of course, but it was never a necessity for you. even when the opportunity presented itself, you wouldn’t chase after it. yet here you were, wordlessly begging him to continue. what had these men done to you?

“is this okay?” he whispered.

you nodded immediately, turning your head to look at him. his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace—a silent plea for him to have his way with you, release the tension that’s built up over the previous three months. without waiting a second longer, he attached his lips to your neck again, a certain roughness to the way he caressed your skin with his lips and his tongue and his teeth.

you melted against him and let your eyes fall shut when you felt his hands slip shirt off, tossing it on his desk, and then rest against your bare waist, fingertips brushing over the skin making a shiver run down your spine. a voice that wasn’t his had your eyes flying open, your body freezing for a moment before you realised who it was.

“you two just couldn’t wait for me?” wooyoung pouted, leaning against the desk in front of the chair you and san occupied. san chuckled against your neck while you stared at wooyoung, dumbfounded, unexpected excitement stirring in your abdomen.

he looked from your face, to san’s smirk, and then down at the way your hips tried finding the right angle to grind on san’s lap. a dark chuckle left wooyoung’ slips and he leaned forward, hands coming to rest on your knees.

“need help with that, doll?” he tilted his head, a mocking pout gracing his lips as he cooed at you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek for a moment as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

your eyes practically twinkled as you looked up at him, pupils dilated as you nod helplessly. wooyoung smiled and patted your cheek affectionately, pecking your forehead again before sinking to his knees in between yours and san’s legs, kissing his way down your body. your eyes tracked him and his slow descent, breath held in anticipation.

“cute,” he giggled as he eyed your pink panties, slipping them off your legs and tossing them aside. he hooked your legs on either side of san’s, spreading them apart, looking up at you. “just relax, be a good girl and keep your legs like that for me, yeah?”

when you nodded, he kissed your inner thigh followed by a quiet groan as he noticed the arousal dripping from your cunt. “oh, doll, you’re so wet.”

“hm, is she?” san chimed in, one of of his hands leaving your waist to dip down and casually slide a finger through your folds; from bottom to top, applying more pressure the further he slid. you prepared yourself for his finger to get to your clit but, much to your dismay, he removed his hand just before he got there. you suppressed the urge to glare at him over your shoulder. simultaneously, wooyoung began leaving pecks all over your inner thighs.

san hummed and pressed another kiss just below your ear, whispering, his voice thick with lust, “all that and we barely even started. what a pathetic, needy mess, huh?”

the way he said it made it clear he expected an answer from you, but with how wooyoung ran a single finger through your folds, you couldn’t do much but shudder and nod. san clicked his tongue and snaked his hands further up from your waist just under your breasts, fingers brushing circles over your nipples. he waited patiently to give you more time to answer.

wooyoung’s tongue slipped out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit and both your brain practically short-circuited. the combination of the feeling of his tongue and his wide, glossy eyes peering up at you from between your legs sending your mind reeling. he groaned as he tasted you, swearing in his head that he’d probably finish in his pants within five minutes. a sudden pinch of your nipples had you snapping out of your trance.

“say it, princess.”

“ah- i’m a mess.”

“and why are you a mess?”

you opened your mouth to answer but your own moan cut you off as wooyoung began circling your clit with his tongue. san’s lips backed away from your ear and he looked down at wooyoung, signalling for him to stop by holding up his flat palm. your chest heaved with heavy breaths as wooyoung reluctantly removed his tongue and leaned back just an inch, giving you a moment to recover.

“he won’t continue until you tell me why you’re a mess, baby.”

“because of you,” you whined, trying to press your hips closer to wooyoung’s face but to no avail as san moved his hands back down to hold you firmly by those hips he loved so much.

“good girl, that’s right,” he cooed into your ear, giving you a tender kiss. “you’re our pathetic needy mess, aren’t you?”

“your mess. i’m your mess.”

at the confirmation, san looked down at wooyoung and nodded. not even a second later wooyoung’s mouth was back on you. one of san’s hands stayed to control your hips and the other went back to massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

wooyoung’s pace was relentless. he ate you out like a man starved, licking up all the juices that seeped from you while he made sure to nudge his nose against your clit repeatedly. when his mouth wasn’t at your entrance, he had his lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between rhythmic sucks and prods of his tongue, one of his fingers teasingly circling your hole.

he swore he could’ve gotten drunk off your taste, finding the way you writhed in san’s lap so cute. wooyoung momentarily removed his mouth from you once again, watching your face as he tentatively pushed his finger past your entrance. he spoke, voice somewhere between a hoarse groan and a sigh.

“fuck…”

you threw your head back on san’s shoulder, suddenly aware of the hard erection pressed against your ass. you tried to rock your hips just a bit, wanting to help him, but his fingers tightened on your hips.

“keep being such a good girl and i’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name, but i need you to be patient. okay, princess?”

your breath hitches and you nodded at his promise, your attention being drawn back to the man between your legs as he added another finger. your breathing grew erratic.

“mmm, so tight.” he groaned, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappeared into your before slipping out again, more and more of your slick seeping out with each thrust of his digits. wet sounds reverberated through the room as you let out a silent curse.

you thought your noises were kept to a minimum, too embarrassed to really let loose, but as soon as he curled his fingers in you—easily finding that spongey sweet spot—a proper moan ripped itself out of you. and then his tongue was back on your clit, not as firmly as you would’ve liked but enough to draw out more moans and whimpers.

at first, he took his time, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a frustrating pace, tongue only lightly brushing over your swollen pearl. but soon enough, he sped up gradually until he reached a speed that had you crying out and arching your back with every inch that he moved. all the while san muttered encouragement into your ear.

“mhm, you’re taking his fingers so well, princess.”

“can’t wait to have my cock in your tight little pussy. don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.”

“look at you, being fucked dumb just from his fingers. you can barely even keep your eyes open, huh?”

you thought you were controlling yourself well but the moment wooyoung added a third finger, the stretch burning just slightly though your wetness kept things moving smoothly, the moment san spoke all those filthy words in your ear, you felt yourself crashing over the edge. it all felt so good you didn’t even realise you were climaxing until you felt yourself shaking and stars swarming your vision.

a high pitched cry ripped through your lips, moaning wooyoung’s name as he takes his fingers out so he can slurp up your release, groaning against you. you tasted so good and if he could, he would have bottled up all the sounds you made to listen to them before bed every night. san planted tender kisses to your jaw and shoulder as wooyoung eventually removed himself.

he looked almost as fucked out as you, drunk of the juices of your pussy as he slowly got up. he took your face in his clean hand and eagerly pressed his lips against yours, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. the two of you made out slowly, sloppily, and he slowly trailed his hands down. tracing the curve of your waist before settling his hands on your hips, guiding them to grind over san’s length.

you followed his lead, arching your back to position your pussy right over his erection. that seemed to have made san lose all his composure, rasping out harshly, “woo, please lift her up for a moment.”

moments later, you were back in his lap, this time his long cock buried deep in your cunt. his hands guided your movements, his thrusts matching the pace of the roll of your hips. though he wasn’t able to see your face, fucking you in a reverse cowgirl position, he could image how fucked out you looked. cheeks painted red, glazed over eyes, swollen lips, messed up hair.

wooyoung separated his lips from you, chuckling against your mouth. you struggled to kiss him, san feeling so good in you that you had a hard time thinking straight. “does he feel good, babydoll?”

you nodded and leaned forward just slightly to attach you lips to his pretty neck, mindlessly kissing and licking your way down to his collarbones. wooyoung tilted his head back, another dark chuckle. he thought you were so cute—making sure to give him attention even though you were bouncing in another man’s dick. said man groaned and slumped back in the seat at the change of angle as you leaned forward, not pausing his movements once. ever since he first bottomed out in you he had trouble putting together sentences.

your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. most of them were undone anyway, he liked it like that when he wore button-ups, but you wanted it completely off. he noticed your trembling hands struggling and took over for you, ignoring the buttons and just pulling off the shirt. your eyes roamed over him, jaw slack.

“you’re so pretty, woo.” you whispered after burying your face in his neck again, any filter you had on your words completely gone.

“i think you’re pretty too, doll,” he chuckled into your ear. “so pretty getting off on me and sannie at once.”

you leaned back and looked him over, darting between his eyes and the erection straining against the trousers with pleading, half closed eyes. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you wanted, making him coo as he understood you.

“oh, you want my cock? you wanna suck it? just one shoved inside you doesn’t satisfy you enough, huh, you pretty little slut?”

your head empty, unable to focus on anything other than the two men you were trapped between, you nodded. san groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.

“fuck- she likes that.”

“is that so?” wooyoung straightened up and grinned down at you, holding your jaw in his hand. “well, then, go ahead, doll, do as you please.”

at he sound of his permission, your hands found their way to his trousers, undoing the fly and letting them fall to the ground. you could already see the shape of it through his boxers, but didn’t pause to inspect it, hooking your fingers on his waistband and pulling it down to release him.

while his length was impressive, it didn’t look quite as long as san’s but rather thicker. compared to every dick you’ve seen, you decided jung wooyoung had a pretty one. the blushing tip leaked precum that you smeared around to stroke him slowly.

you looked up at him every time you tried something new with your hands, looking for his reaction—running your thumb over his tip, squeezing lightly as your hand moved down. no mater what you did, it elicited a deep moan from him. you looked entranced as you watched the way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. you leaned forward (both you and san moaning and shuddering at the change in angle), pressing a kiss to his tip.

this new angle had san pounding against your sweet spot repeatedly without fail, making you suddenly feel like jello. still, you tried your best to focus on the task literally at hand.

wooyoung noticed your lack of concentration, threading his fingers in your hair and gently pulling to make you look up. he pouted at you mockingly. “can’t think straight enough with sannie’s cock stuffed in you? it’s ok, doll, you look so pretty and fucked out i could cum just from looking at you.”

you shook your head and pushed forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking your mouth down on his length to the best of your abilities.

wooyoung groaned, “that’s it, doll, there you go. you can take just a little more, can’t you, pretty girl?”

eager to please him, you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. you felt him hit the back of your throat and pulled back, coughing around his length. he slipped his hand out of your hair and stroke your cheek, prompting you to glance up at him.

“you’re doing well, doll, just remember to breathe through your nose. i know you can take me just a bit deeper.”

you nodded at his words, swallowing a little more, and wrapped a hand around the rest that you couldn’t fit, stroking him slowly as you led your mouth get used to the feeling. truth be told, you hadn’t given anyone head before, completely relying on your intuition now.

“yeah, there you go, my pretty little doll. i knew you could do it.”

as you mouth worked on wooyoung, you felt that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen. san must’ve been close too, letting out a hearty groan as he gripped your hips tighter and thrusted up into you faster. every time he pulled you down and snapped his hip up to meet you, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against your and his balls hitting your clit had you whining against wooyoung’s cock.

he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering before cooing down at you. “what was that, doll? i couldn’t quite hear you.”

you continued with the sucking and stroking until you thought it was impossible, repeatedly shaking too much to keep a steady pace. but you could tell wooyoung was close judging by his sounds and pulsating, and still wanting to please him, you kept your lips around his head as you hand stroked him as fast as you could.

moments later, his body tensed and he came into your mouth. the thick, slightly salty substance ran down your throat as you swallowed it all down. when you were sure he was done, you pulled yourself off him. wooyoung looked ready to pass out, leaning against the desk and staring up at the ceiling as he panted, catching his breath. silent curses left his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.

now with wooyoung taken care of, you leaned back against san, revelling in the feeling of him pounding into you as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. you heard him gasp by your ear and you clenched down on him.

“f-fuck… i’m gonna cum.”

oh how san loves fucking you. loves the way your walls flutter around his cock. loves all the sounds you make that he was sure you weren’t even aware of. how you writhe and jerk and shudder and whine and moan and he could go on for days.

“please, sannie,” you whined softly, “please, fill me up, please please please.”

that was the last straw. the desperation in your voice has his stomach flipping and he came just as you finished your begging. a shiver ran down your spine as your body went limp. he kept himself buried in you as one of his hands slide down to rub quick and tight circles on your clit, quickly bringing you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

once all three of you calmed down and got cleaned up, you found yourself relaxing on san’s lap again. this time, you were on one of the couches in the living room as wooyoung sat beside you. while you were in the shower, he cooked up some instant noodles, feeding them to you now.

a hand stroked the outside of your thigh comfortingly as you slurped down the last of the noodles, you recognised it as san’s hand. your legs still felt like jello and you cuddled into him as wooyoung got up to put the bowl away. you felt san press a kiss to the top of your head, practically cradling you.

“you did well, my little blue bird,” he whispered against the crown of your head and pulled you closer, “i could stay like this all day.”

“too bad because it’s my turn now.” wooyoung buckled as he returned, collapsing on the couch and snatching you of san’s grasp without warning. he stuck his tongue out at san as he held the back of you head and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, making you giggle.

san whined and reached his hands out to grab you again only to be swatted away by woo. “hey! no fair.”

“yes, it is fair,” wooyoung giggled, “you’ve had her on your lap long enough.” his best friend glared at him and muttered something under his breath as he looked away with his arms crossed.

“oh, you big baby,” you laughed as you turned your head to look at him. extending you hand to pat his knee.

san’s eyes flashed as an idea lit up in his head. he grinned as he wrapped his arms around both you and wooyoung. you weren’t sure how it happened but next thing you knew, all three of you were laying down on the couch, the two men sandwiching you lovingly.

you felt yourself blush and your brain going blank. wooyoung laughed at the expression on your face, leaning forward to kiss you until san reached over and flicked his forehead. they proceeded to argue about who should be able to kiss you more as you sighed contentedly. you realised there was no other place in earth you’d prefer to be in more than right here, nestled between the two men who you knew would take good care of you.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @hee0soo

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sim0nril3y · 6 months

Text

Handy Man

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon begins to notice that some things around your flat are a little worse for wear, so he makes it his job to fix them. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, smut, p in v, very little foreplay, dirty talk, praise, cumplay, creampie, canon-typical swearing.

The sound of sizzling frying in the pan seemed to become background noise around your idle chatter, using a spatula to move and flip it around the pan whilst you spoke. “… and she was telling me…” Even your incessant talking became background noise instead all that Simon could focus on was that sound of the drip, drip, drip of the tap. His eyes focusing on it like it was a target he needed to eliminate. Drip, drip, drip it mocked him again and his fingers tightened on the mug in his grip.

Did you not hear that? Did it not drive you fucking insane? Simon’s eyes flickered over to where you stood with your back to him, continuing to natter mindlessly. “… I was thinking that she had to be joking…” Then you laughed whilst drip, drip, drip consumed his attention again. “… there was no bloody way…” It didn’t faze you at all. No, you simply kept your attention on the bacon in the pan that was swiftly becoming burned. “… Oh, and then-”

“Love.” His voice was tight and stern as you glanced over your shoulder at him, eyes bright and inviting, reminding him that you didn’t think like he did, you didn’t obsess over the tiny details and that was something he loved about you. “You, uh… you got any tools 'round here?” He asked, standing in a moment to approach the offending tap, observing it, moving it, turning it on and off a couple times. “Tools?” You quizzed before frowning heavily, moving the bacon aside and switching off the hob. “Oh.” The opening a stiff looking drawer to produce the oldest looking screwdriver he’d ever seen. “I have this…” Announcing like some accomplishment.

Under his breath he muttered. “Fuckin’ hell.” Holding the tool in hand, gripping the handle hard before throwing it aside uselessly. “Stop fussing.” Your voice announced then, placing down a plate that held freshly made bacon sandwich where he had originally been sitting. “Whatever you’re obsessing about…” You took a hearty bite of your own sandwich. “It can wait…” Another bite. “Until you’ve eaten…” Then licking your fingers as you grabbed the condiments from the fridge and held it out to him. “Red or brown?”

Simon’s shower had been everything but relaxing. The water had been cold for far longer than he had appreciated and directly above him the light flickered so horrendously that for a moment Simon could have convinced himself he was at a rave. “Light is flickering in your bathroom.” Simon announced, towel wrapped around his waist as he stepped into the lounge to find you. “What’s that?” You quizzed from where you stood observing a canvas, then turning to him. “The light. In the bathroom. It’s flickering.” He reiterated in a low voice whilst your eyes were lingering on his broad chest, watching the water trickle down his skin. “Oi. Pay attention.” Simon bit out playfully.

Snapping you from your trance a low hum came from your throat. “The… light…” Then out made a small noise of recognition. “It’s actually always done that.” The statement followed a careless shrug as you turned your back to him to regain focus on your painting. “You told your landlord?” He asked with concern. “Uh, yeah…” The response was quick and Simon knew you too well. “Think I’ve mentioned it before. Said he tried to fix it but it was some bigger wiring problem, or something…” Another shrugged and it bothered Simon significantly.

He had a problem with you living in a place like this. It wasn’t a good area to begin to live in. Outside teenagers screamed and caused mayhem all night, idiots drove cars around too fast and noisy at night and others got up to shady things away from prying eyes. Too many times Simon had left your flat to find never seen before dents in his car or a bunch of teenagers loitering around it. It didn't scare him but he didn’t like the thought of them playing the same tricks on you.

Besides all that, the flat just wasn’t up to standard for you. It was tiny and cluttered and half of it didn’t work or was in the process of falling apart, all that on top of knowing that you rent was way too high for what you were getting. Simon knew he needed to fix this.

That evening a frown pressed to his lips as he walked into the bedroom with a couple glasses of water. Placing one down beside you he pressed a kiss to your hairline. Then moving to the other side of the bed Simon stopped by the radiator. His hand reaching out to touch it as he frowned. The heating was on full blast everywhere else, so why wasn’t this one hot at all? He removed his hand and touched a different part and his frown intensified. “This rad isn’t working…” He mentioned as you glanced up from where you were rubbing a sweet smelling moisturiser into your legs, as if you could be anymore soft and supple, Simon lamented internally. “Isn’t it?” “You didn’t know? Babe, it’s stone bloody cold.” Then pressing his hand to it again, as if he might have gotten it wrong, but it remained completely unchanged beneath his fingers. “I know that must bother you ‘cause you’re constantly putting your cold feet on me.”

A delicate laugh fell from your lips. “Well, what’s the point of having a warm, strong body beside me if I don’t utilise it?” You jested causing Simon to scowl. “Wind your neck in.” He muttered, before trying to fight the smirk that pulled onto his face. Once again, his eyes focused on the radiator, as if his new targed. Simon mentioned. “Probably needs to be bled. S’not hard. It’s something you should learn to do…”

You simply nodded, continuing your night-time routine that he actually enjoyed watching, by the end you smelt absolutely delicious and he was more than happy to eat you. “Y’know, there isn’t much that works in this flat, babe.” He said then, moving to lay down on the bed beside you, leaning on his side in your direction. “That oven is dodgy. Every tap leaks. Lights flicker. Rads aren’t working….” Then he frowned again, reaching out to rub your knee. “These are things your landlord should be sorting…” For a moment you were quiet and then looked at him with a genuine smile. “I really hadn’t noticed, Si. I think I’ve just gotten used to it.”

It may have been something that you’ve gotten used to, but it certainly wasn’t something that Simon was going to allow. By the time that you woke up the next morning to your dismay Simon was gone from your side. Instead of worrying yourself too much you started your day and decided to put some more work into the canvas that you were obsessing over. Maybe some green? Or… maybe some blue… that would be a nice bit of contrast… what story were you trying to tell with this piece?

A knock interrupted you, placing down your brush and then wandering to open the door and smiling as Simon stood there, toolbox in hand. Your eyes trailed over his frame, looking as handsome as ever and very handy too. “Oh, you here to check my pipes?” You cooed flirtatiously causing Simon to chuckle as he stepped inside, kissing your forehead and muttering. “I think you mean clean your pipes, love…” He corrected you. “I’ll do that later if you’re a good girl and let me work.”

You allowed him as much time to work as you could manage, but as you found him working under your sink, tight dark coloured shirt riding up to reveal the trail of short hair leading down it seemed impossible to resist. “My-my…” You whimpered, your voice quaint and lewd as you sauntered a little further into the kitchen. “That is an awful big hammer you have there~” You purred in a breathy tone. “Maybe I could hold it for you~” “Fuckin’ hell…” Even without seeing him you could hear the smile on his face. “You’re bloody insatiable, love.” Sliding out from the cupboard to look at you standing there, shifting from one foot to the other as if waiting for his command. “Fuck, c’mon then…” He mentioned, lifting his hips off the worn tiled floors and shifting his jeans and underwear down to his upper thighs, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. “Hurry up.”

Hastily you moved to straddle his thighs, rubbing your clit in tight circles and humming as you warmed yourself up, stroking his cock languidly with your free hand. His eyes rolled back for a second, lower lip gripped between his teeth. “C’mon, baby…” Large hand spanked your hear and a moment later you were lowering yourself onto his hard member, gasping at the way it intruded and stretched your slightly underprepared walls, pressing your hands hard to the wide expanse of his chest as you happily bounced your hips. “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Quicker now.”

The look on your face was completely enchanted with lust and love, unable to form even the most basic of sentence. All you could manage was huffing and puffing, bouncing yourself with an unsteady rhythm. “C’mon, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” Simon grit his teeth, plating his feet on the ground and resisting the urge to begin to fuck up into your relentlessly, if you wanted this then you were gonna work for every fucking second of it. “Go on. Ruin that perfect little cunt on me…” His hands cupping and caressing your hips, feeling the way they faltered and sort his guidance.

In your defence, it was difficult to concentrate on keeping a rhymth with the way your thighs were burning, Simon had a way of keeping you his pillow princess, so times when he made you work for it felt extra hard. Not to mention, the way his cock split you open was mind-numbing, each time you sunk down his cock would press firmly against your special spots before bumping firmly against your cervix, kissing it before sliding back and promising to meet it again mere seconds later.

“S-Simon~” You cried softly, feeling your thighs cramping and pressing your hands firmly into his chest before your desperate eyes found his own. “Simon, please~” The sound was nothing more than a whimper, but it was enough for him to take mercy on your poor worn body. Beginning to thrust up firmly into your tight cunt, locking you into place with a firm hold on your hips. This produced loud gasps and moans beginning to tumble from between your lips, instead of planting your hands into his chest, now your desperately curled his shirt between your fingers. “Ohfuck. Ohfuck.” You cried helplessly.

“C’mon pretty girl.” He muttered coolly, fucking up into you without stopping or pausing, finding lasting stamina that were thankful that he had. “C’mon, get yourself there. You know how. Show me.” He pressed, watching the way your fingers slipped down and began to rub your clit in tight circles, whimpering, leaning forward, panting and then finally. “Simon~” That beautiful noise. Oh, he if he could play it on repeat in his head he fucking would. It was like a fucking lullaby that would coax him into a peaceful sleep everynight.

The way your body convulsed and locked up above his own, Simon observed with adoration, taking in the way your eyes rolled just slightly before sealing closed, mouth popping open, tongue sometimes bit between your teeth, nose scrunching, chest thrumming. It was fucking beautiful. Every second. He wanted to enjoy it over and over, but the way that you tight walls strangled his cock caused him to splutter out a low noise and then begin to shoot his thick load inside whilst your walls milked him for every pump.

There you leant into his body, breathing hard and both completely spent. It was bliss. All his worries had disappeared, the sound of that dripping sink was gone and instead replaced with your adorable whines as you slowly regained composure, smiling down at him so sweetly and carefully sliding from his length and sitting beside him.

For a moment he lay there, his body almost numb and then reaching over to pull your thigh aside and watching the way his cum seeped from your spent walls, convulsing weakly as it dribbled to the floor. “Beautiful.” He commented, closing his eyes for another second and committing that image to memory. “That’ll be me through the rest of this…” Simon mentioned, reopening his eyes and gazing at your cunt one final then and then tucking himself away. “Go on. Off you go. I got work to do.” Climbing back under the sink and resuming his handy work as if he hadn’t just destroyed your sweet cunt.

“Yes, sir~” You cooed, carefully climbing back to your feet and lingering in the doorway. Still sensing your presence Simon spoke without looking. “Thought I told you to bugger off.” Listening to you giggle in response. “Just give me a minute, I’m trying to think of another porny handy man line to use on you…”

Masterlist | Ask | 16-11-2023

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #ghost mw3 #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #1k

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2-dsimp · 2 months

Note

Aaaaah Judas is too cute and horny i just want to pamper him until the very end <3

Yandere company Bros

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Cw: NSFW MDNI fem reader creampie, gaslighting, possessive/obsessive tendencies, slight praise, overstimulation, Judas being touch starved for your affection, mentions of marathon sex, office sex, exhibition, Judas being a simp,

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Synopsis: 【From Seeing your Boss and lover going through a dire case of burn out, you decided to offer your services via pampering him and treating him like royalty. But it looks like you bit off more than you can chew. As he’s going absolutely feral from you allowing him to work out his frustrations on your pliant body.】

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“You said you’d pamper me for the entire day… Was that a lie love?”

Judas rasped softly into your ear as he coiled an arm around your middle in gentle but firm hold. He had you bent over his office desk with a hand pressed against your mouth to conceal the melodious sounds of you going on a downwards spiral of depravity. He was practically glued to your ass letting out soft pants as he felt his balls twitch from the way your love canal spasmed on his long hard length that was buried so deep that you thought your guts were getting rearranged.

“You promised me, your everything. Are you trying to go back on your word darling? Please don’t let that be the case. I think I’d cry if it was.”

The Eldest Kinen murmured lowly. As he buried his face in the crook of your neck pressing heated kisses at your pluse.

“Do you want that? To see me cry? To see me go mad from how much I need you? To see how much I crave to imprint my dick deep inside of you, so that I know you’re finally all mine?”

His voice was so needy and yet gentle, While he fluidly rocked his hips against yours into a grinding motion. Making you give a muffled keen into his palm from how his throbbing shaft rammed into that spongey spot nestled within your molten core.

“Judas—please!”

You mewled softly against his hand that you lightly clawed at. So you could make him hear what you had to say. Noticing your efforts Judas slid his palm down slightly from your mouth so he could get a clear response from you. He was desperate to know what possessed you to try and weasel out of his messy office. After being such a temptress.

“Juu…We can’t go a 4th time there’s a meeting to be held in 30min—“

Not even letting you finish he abruptly pulled out allowing some goop of his seed to leak out of your abused pussy only to plunge back savagely into your wet heat. Stifling a cry of pleasure at the delicious sensation of being buried inside you once more.

“Do you think I care about that meeting right now when I’ve got my beloved looking so precious on my cock right now?”

Judas said breathily, letting his stoic persona crack whenever he was in close quarters with you. His eye brows were tightly knitted as he bared his weight down against you pressing your front flat against the desk.

"Nng! You're so tight, so warm, so welcoming. From the moment I saw you I knew that you were the one that I was made for."

His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring his rod to penetrate your gushing cunt as much as he could. Before he began to move, his hips pounding into you with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

“God, how I've wanted this, needed this for so long. I've dreamt of making love to you whenever I close my eyes at night. Marking you as mine. And Becoming all yours in the process.”

The workaholic confessed, his voice filled with raw need. His need to apply all his pent up urges of loving you wholly with his entire being. Overpowering any sense of restraint he had previously. As He reveled in the way your body responded to his touch, the way you moaned and writhed beneath him.

“So please pamper me until the end just like you said. I promise to be good for you, all I need in exchange is you.”

The Eldest whimpered pathetically, tears welling up from his thick lashes from the self induced overstimulation. As he frantically mapped the expanse of your lushious body greedily grabbing ahold of whatever piece of you he could get to hoard for himself. He was cheesing from his ears getting blessed by your adorable squeals and moans from getting railed against his desk.

“Mmn I’m so close, I’m gonna cum again inside you. Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful when you make those cute sounds for me”

He rambled dumbly, with his jaw slackened from relishing in the feeling of his member getting strangled by your pulpy walls that enticed him to drive his heavy cock into you fully. Making his mushroom tip kiss your cervix as his balls continued to tighten immensely from the impending release threatening to escape his body.

With one final, powerful slam of his pelvis against the meat of your ass. Judas released a torrent of his hot, thick cum inside you. The feeling of his seed filling your womb sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, triggering your own release. As your legs quivered while your quim gushed around his pulsating meat for the last time drenching his happy trail with your slick and juices.

“I love you so fucking much, Accepting everything that I have to give to you. I love being yours. I’m so happy you chose me…”

He pressed a series of kisses trailing from your neck to your jaw. Until he tilt your head slightly to give you a smoldering kiss as his chest let out a deep, guttural rumble of pure happiness. While he continued to hump your pussy just to make sure he’s given all of his pure love to his darling. Making you whine in embarrassment from the sound of his seed mixing with your fluids filling the room. You just knew that the whole workplace was gonna be talking about you two.

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sooniebby · 7 months

Text

Sneak peak… to the request of a playboy reader and nerd OC… degradation, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock—a bit dubcon and feminization

…..

“C’mon~ you’re that scared?”

You stared at the boy across from you on the bed. He was biting at his lip, fiddling with something behind his back. You couldn’t help but smirk. Ah, shy nerds.

They were your favorite. Easy targets for some great sex.

They were always so loud but then get so shy after hearing themselves.

And this guy… Yubin, he looked like the perfect target.

His doe like eyes moved up to yours. His shaggy mullet like hair was honestly cute on him. But it helped he was just naturally a bit cute.

Yubin pursed his lips. You hummed and stood up, noticing once more—that he was shorter than you. He only reached your shoulder. You moved over to his side of the bed, reaching over to grab his shoulder.

“Don’t worry~ I’ll be gentle with you.”

Yubin glanced up at you and his face contorted into something akin of laughter as a dry laugh left his plump lips.

Suddenly, you were on the bed and your hands were tied to the banister. You panicked, pulling at it in fear as you looked up at Yubin who was sitting on top of you.

“5 seconds… that was faster than before. I’m getting good.”

A cruel smirk was on his lips as he leaned back a bit, staring down at you with an odd look of disgust.

“A shame you’re not as buff as I wanted you to be… my past lover, gosh, he was so beautiful.. he had great tits.”

Yubin reached down and grasped your chest, frowning when there wasn’t much to grab. He huffed and pulled away. You just honestly couldn’t believe you were being manhandled by a guy smaller than you.

“What the hell, Yubin?!”

“What? We’re having sex. It’s why you were even talking to me for the best few days, wasn’t it?”

You gulp, feeling a bit guilty. He wasn’t wrong. You never paid him any mind during class until you realized you had fucked a lot of people in the class except him.

Didn’t help your friends didn’t believe you could fuck him.

“Well, not sure if you know this, but I don’t let dicks near my ass.”

“Why? Haven’t found a cock big enough for your butt?” He reached over and grasped your ass, humming in delight. “Wow, glad something about you is big.”

You didn’t know whether to be insulted or appreciative.

“Not like you’re big at all. What, have a kink for men bigger than you?”

Yubin simply smirked. He got up from on top of you and walked over to his backpack. He pulled out a few toys, many being something to spank you with.

Gosh, was he into spanking?

“I’ll be nice.. which one do you want to you?”

He held up a rod, blindfold, and a vibrator.

You did not want to deal with any pain at the moment and the fear of not being able to see what he was doing scared you. So you eagerly pointed at the vibrator.

Yubin hummed and placed the rejected items in his bag. He walked over to you and sat back down on top of you, this time right on top of your cock. You, a bit too far in your ways of being a slut, thrusted upwards a bit.

You expected him to moan or maybe whimper a bit and show off his cute side. But he looked at you as if you were a cockroach.

“Ew.”

You felt your heart shatter.

Ew?!

While you mentally cried over your first ever ‘ew’—Yubin was pulling your shirt up. He still seemed pretty disappointed you weren’t as muscular as he thought you were.

“W…what are you into? Power bottom shit?”

“You really keep thinking you’ll put that small dick of yours in my butt.”

“Well… yeah! Any boy I fuck, even ones who thought they’d just be tops, loved my cock!” You boast, a grin on your lips. “I don’t mind letting you be on top, baby~ I’ll just show you how good my cock feels.”

Yubin stared down at you. “But… I’m bigger.”

You laughed. “You? Bigger than me? I’m literally 6 inches hard.”

You heard the sound of pants being pulled down as you watched Yubin get undressed. He pulled down his boxers and the only thing to come out your mouth was a whimper.

Holy fuck.

He was 8 inches… flaccid!!!

Yubin grinned as he began laughing at your shocked face.

“I love fucking guys bigger than me and putting them into their place.. usually I prefer guys that don’t fight back.. but I think this’ll be fun.”

You could watch as he moved up a bit and tapped your lips with the tip of his cock.

“Now start sucking, baby~ A slut like you should’ve sucked a few times.”

You wanted to punch but him but much to your own shock, you slowly parted your lips. He was surprisingly gentle as he slowly moved his cock inside your mouth. Huh, guess he didn’t want to actually hurt you.

Physically that is. He had no problem degrading you.

You winced as Yubin grabbed your hair and held it tightly, keeping your head steady.

“You might’ve been thinking this night was supposed to have me screaming.. but tonight, slut, it’ll be you screaming my name. You better sound like music to my ears or I’ll silent you like the bitch you are.”

Yubin stared at you for a moment, a cruel smirk on his lips before he sighed. “Pinch me twice whenever you wanna stop.”

You hummed, a bit happy he wasn’t being totally cruel.

“Now… with that out of the way, suck.”

“Let’s see if you’ll become my new housewife, Noona~”

Now for the actual fic.. it might be a bit edited when it comes to this part lol but it’s just a draft on what’s going to happen… hope that makes sense lmao.. Yubin lovers will also know who his past lover was <3

Tag list: @ofclyde @tomoeroi @nakedtoasterr @iwishtobeacrow @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @smellwell @tehyunnie @remdayz @kaedezu

Noona: title for older sister or older close female—can be viewed as romantic. Only males call an older woman Noona—similar to Oppa.

#bottom male reader #x male reader #oc x reader #original character #mlm ns/fw #male reader #smut drabble

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newtkive · 4 months

Text

practice - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader, mentioned platonic marcus x reader

summary: The sudden changes at your work prove to be a lot to keep up with, but Carmy notices your efforts where you think he’s just a tough boss. He proves to be more than that when he finds you pulling an all-nighter at the restaurant.

wordcount: 3.8k

warnings: none really, anxious reader, ooc!carmen (he would never let mistakes fly like this lmao), kinda fluff at the end

a/n: this is basically how i would react working there bc i almost have an anxiety attack every ep watching carmy yell at everyone. sorry for any typos!

The fast moving pace that Carmen Berzatto brought to The Beef was something extraordinary. The skill of his professional chef background was carried over into the small hole in the wall that otherwise would have never changed if it wasn’t for him.

His drive was contagious, even infecting the staff you knew like the back of your hand. You never would have thought your coworkers, ever comfortable with a stagnant pace, would become accustomed to such change around their second home.

It was great to see your favorite people quickly see their own potential thanks to Carmy’s vision. The only problem was you.

You were falling behind, and quickly.

You tried to convince yourself you could keep up as things changed. But your mind was faster than your barely skilled hands and you were terrible at cutting ingredients evenly during a rush and you always somehow got sliced or burnt and your eyes always stung from the onions you were stuck prepping because that was the one job you couldn’t fuck up but hated— to put it simply, you sucked.

The faces of your coworkers reflected what you feared every time you turned around to take a breath, heels of your hands rubbing tears from your eyes as Carmy screamed profanities at the crew. Tina’s eyes would linger on you, brows raised and silently asking if you were okay. You would nod and blink the tears away before jumping back in. By the end of every shift Ebraheim would pat you on the back before leaving, and Sydney would send you a small, sympathetic smile and wave while you tied your shoes on the bench near the locker.

Each time you could see the sympathy in their eyes and it made you hate yourself even more.

You were used to sandwiches; assembling simple ingredients between a hoagie bun on a slow Sunday surrounded by the people you called family. Cracking jokes here and there, no pressure to make things completely perfect, which ended up making things perfect. So much so that regulars even seemed disappointed to see you up at the register some days instead of in the kitchen assembling their lunch.

Carmy wasn’t blind, he could see exactly what was going on, which was why he didn’t pick on you as much as he did when he first arrived.

The first couples of weeks that Carmy was there he noticed the difference in your station compared to everyone else’s. Organized, cohesive, clean—save for the multiple drinks you always had. You worked at your own pace, not slow but definitely not up to par with Carmen’s standards. You made it work though, cutting ingredients almost perfectly and whipping up sandwiches and other specialties not a second too late.

The change happened when Carmy upped the stakes and encouraged—or yelled at—everyone to be as quick as they possibly could. His yelling was off putting, and you didn’t respond well to much other than positive reinforcement.

The chef didn’t notice until the uneven bread and too-thin tomato slices lead back to you. He was quick, marching over to you with a purpose; if it was a cartoon, his hair would be alight with fire. “Chef!” His voice was hard and urgent, because he didn’t have time to deal with this.

As he approached, he noticed your hands shaking as you held the dull shitty knife, head whipping up and cheeks red, all but heaving from the pressure. So much pressure.

“Yes Chef?” You asked attentively, waiting for him to explode.

Carmen had all intentions to do just that, tear you a new one, tell you that you’ve been here long enough to know how to cut a fuckin’ tomato the right way but he paused. The look in your eye was wild and scared. His face fell, obvious turmoil behind his blue eyes causing a change in his decision. You waited with bated breath, but what you were expecting never came.

Instead, Carmen did his best to be calm and set his hand on the counter, leaning a bit. “I want you to show me how to slice that tomato.” He said.

“What?” You were confused and it was clearly written on your face. So were your nosy coworkers who exchanged looks and shrugged, expecting the young man to wail on you with his words.

Looking over your shoulder at the others, you tried to exchange weary looks with anyone but Carmy pulled you back in with his words. “Don’t worry about their shit. C’mon, show me.” He said again, motioning to the tomato sitting on the cutting board, looking at you expectantly.

After a beat of weariness you did what he asked. With an exhale your knife pierced the red skin and cut it, your wrist dragging it back and forth to cut all the way through. You gave a few more slices, doing your best to ignore his scrutinizing gaze.

Reviewing your slices, you mentally pat yourself on the back at the sight of them perfectly even and a fairly thin. You turned to look at Carmy, and he seemed to have an epiphany as he stood there holding his chin. Eyes flickering up to you, he nodded. “You know what that showed me?” He asked, and before you could answer he continued. “You’re competent, you did that shit with a dull knife. Don’t cut ‘em too thick or too thin, you have no excuses.”

He should feel ridiculous, like he was coaching a baby how to do the easiest job in the world, but for some reason Carmen was able to swallow his irritation and try to guide you.

You nodded, back straightening and hands sweaty. “Yes, Chef.”

Carmy was about to walk off but stopped himself, turning back around, eyes boring into yours as he grew more serious. “You hear me yelling, you listen, but I need you to focus, Chef. You can do this shit, I’ve seen you pull through before. Don’t let my mouth get to your fuckin’ head.” He said low enough just for the both of you to hear.

He was close, blue eyes staring right at you, the smell of the kitchen clinging onto his apron. It should’ve been intimidating, and it was a little, but you knew this was his version of offering comfort and maybe even some sort of apology.

“Heard, Chef.” You said just as quietly back.

There was a second of him staring, before he simply walked away without another word, leaving you to your own devices. Whatever he said seemed to put some perspective into your work, because you didn’t have anys setbacks for the rest of the day.

On the way home, sitting on the train with headphones in your ears and a jacket wrapping you up tight, Carmy’s words swirled in your head. You knew you could do this, and you could somewhat see in Carmy’s eyes that he had faith in you too. It was just a new world you were all suddenly thrown into and it was hard finding your place. On days where you felt like a baby fawn standing on shaky legs, wobbling and failing to find your footing, you had to keep going.

A single word rang in your mind.

Practice.

Your apartment was pretty small and shared with a roommate, so you lacked the accommodations and tools to really do all you wanted. Aside from that, you didn’t want to be the rude roomie who clashed pans in the kitchen all night long. So, as you made your way off the train you didn’t leave the station. Instead, you waited for the next ride to the city and headed straight for The Beef.

The sun set as you approached the back door, humming a tune as you pulled out a spare key—one that definitley would be confiscated once Carmy found out about it, probably clambering about it not being safe in the foreseeable future—from under the fuse box outside and unlocked the door.

You entered the kitchen, brows immediately raising as you saw all of the kitchen lights on. Slowly moving forward, a sense of anxiety grew as you knew no one would usually be here except for Carmy, and you really did not want to get a talking to from him right now.

Turning the corner, you sighed in relief when you saw the familiar stature that belong to Marcus. He had his phone out, recipe pulled up in front of him and a song playing softly from the speakers that he sang along to. You chuckled softly, alerting him of your presence. Head snapping up at the sound, he almost looked like a deer in the headlights as he met your eyes.

Similarly to you, he let out a relieved sigh and sent you a smile. “Scared me, Y/N.” He laughed softly, hands whisking again.

“Sorry.” You apologized, tugging your coat off. “What’re you doing here, man?” You asked as you headed over to the lockers and shoved your stuff away.

Marcus shrugged. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“Practice.” You said simply, shrugging and tying your apron around your waist. Approaching the kitchen, you started gathering a few clean pots to start your work.

Humming and nodding, Marcus gave you a knowing grin. “Same here.” There was a beat of comfortable silence as you gathered a knife, cutting board, and an onion before washing your hands. “I actually stay here sometimes overnight. It’s easier, that way I won’t waste time going back and forth from home.” Marcus explained.

Surprise filled your features and you sent him an impressed look. “Wow, no wonder you’re getting better fast.”

He chuckles bashfully, filling another mixing bowl with flour and whatever else he desired. “Eh, I guess.” The shrug of his shoulders made you laugh before you turned back to your own work.

With one last question of Marcus asking if you minded his music, and you affirming that you didn’t mind at all, he turned the dial on his bluetooth radio up and you both fell into a comfortable rhythm; Marcus in his corner and you on the stovetop.

By the end of the evening you prepared a vibrant beef braciole dish that a few of the others had been practicing since Carmy introduced it. You brought it to one of the stainless steel counters with two forks, setting it next to the two pieces of cake Marcus had sliced up from his recipe of the evening.

You both dug in, humming in satisfaction as you tasted each other’s creations, sharing impressed and ‘holy shit’ expressions that made the other laugh.

“This is fantastic.” Marcus said, another mouthful of beef being added to his mouth.

You laughed and shook your head, muttering a thank you, trying to swallow down your surprise. Marcus could tell, because he doubled down. “No, really, Y/N. This is the best one I’ve tasted yet, aside from the big Chef.” He said with a grin.

Shaking your head, you gave him your appreciation. “Thank you, Chef. I can say the same thing from you.” You motioned with your fork to the cake. In truth, his words pushed you and affected you more than you lead on.

The both of you fell into a rhythm, whipping up treats and savory meals almost every day after work. Marcus playing music at his own station, you timing yourself relentlessly to try and replicate the fast pace of the open hours of the restaurant. You sometimes even found yourself staying overnight, taking turns with Marcus to use his sleeping bag—he insisted where you didn't want to overstep, but sleep called you and his pillow was comfy.

Relentless practice proved to keep you on track and up to pace with everyone else, slowly but surely. The impressed glances shared between Tina and Sydney every time you had them taste a dish or were quicker than usual were enough, but Carmen was ever the critic. A new menu soon graced The Beef alongside their regular sandwiches, and it was a tough menu to master. You almost had them all down pat, practicing relentlessly for almost four weeks now after work.

However, every time you presented a steaming spoonful of stew, or a perfect bite of chicken piccata that everyone else in the kitchen seemed to love, Carmen would bite into it, hum, and shake his head. "Good." He said every time.

"Good like.. good good? Or good but start over, it's trash, throw it away?" You would ask, clearly waiting with baited breath on a slow day.

Carmy shook his head again. "It's not ready yet, Chef." And then he would be off to collect more expo receipts and leave you there disappointed, shoulders deflating in defeat.

"I think it's great, Chef." Marcus would smile, hands busy working on dough for his unmastered donuts. You would offer a sad smile in return, marching off to assemble another hoagie and handing your failed dish to a waiting Richie in exchange for an appreciative rub of his hands together. The negative feedback only spurred you to improve your craft as much as you could.

It was a rare occasion that Marcus didn't stay at the restaurant overnight. He left early in a frenzy after a phone call, muttering something about his mom's nurse needing him. Offering comfort wasn't your strongest suit, so you bid him luck and made a mental note to bring him his favorite coffee during work later in hopes to cheer him up.

At the same time you were plating what felt like your dozenth chicken piccata of the week, soft footsteps approached the kitchen. As soon as the timer went off behind you, you whipped around and hit the top, a harsh exhale and wipe of your forehead following the silence. You felt proud, plating and finishing your dish in record time without any hiccups.

A soft chuckle brought you out of your stupor, head snapping up to meet bright blue eyes from across the kitchen. There stood Carmy with his unruly curls, white tee and brown jacket he was beginning to pull off. In place of his usual stoic face was an amused expression, clearly not expecting to see someone in the kitchen at this hour.

You froze at the sight of him, but his soft smile eased your shoulders a bit. “Smells good.” Carmy said as if it was the most casual thing, hanging his jacket by the lapels on a hook. He sat on the bench, beginning to change his shoes into nonslip ones.

Stuttering, your cheeks turned pink. “O-oh, uhhh, thanks.”

“You’re here early.” He said back, standing now and readying to tug on his apron.

Brows furrowed, you looked above him to glance at the kitchen clock. Big red numbers read 6:15 AM and your brows raised in shock. Before you had a chance to respond, he walked closer, beginning to talk again. “I’ve noticed you and Marcus are always here before anyone else.”

You shrugged, nervous smile gracing your lips as they upturned slightly. “Ah, yeah. We both wanted to practice. Y’know, catch up with everyone else.” You explained. Conveniently, you decided to not mention the instances of spending the night, figuring it would be a little to embarrassing or earn you a talking to.

Carmy was now approaching the other side of the counter where you stood, hands tapping the steel. His little smug smile didn’t leave his lips as he nodded. “I also noticed a few things missing from our inventory.” His words were clearly teasing, but they made your face run pale.

“Fuck, I'm sorry, Chef. Take it from my paycheck, please—I didn’t even consider—“ The rambling was embarrassing, and his head shake cut you off.

“No, stop, Y/N. I'm teasing you.” Carmy laughed softly with a small smile, clearly endeared. The use of your name made you bashful.

A beat of silence followed, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. Carmy glanced behind you at the dish that laid perfectly plated, motioning to it with his hands. “Let’s see if your hard work is paying off.”

Blinking in surprise, you obediently nodded and turned to grab the dish. Sliding it in front of him, you gathered a fork and knife. Carmy grasped the utensils with a ‘thank you’, fingers brushing yours. It didn’t take long for the chef to dig in, eyes immediately closing once the first bite hit his taste buds.

“So.. what do you think?” You plucked up the courage to ask after he swallowed.

Carmy looked up at you, lips curling upwards and a proud look dawning his features. “Great, as usual.”

Usually those words would make you excited, but Carmy had a habit of complimenting your dishes before declaring how they weren’t good enough just yet. You simply nodded, swallowing thickly as he took another bite and savored the taste. “What should I change?” You asked, straightening your back in preparation for the inevitable criticism.

Humming, Carmy shook his head, the same amused look as before coming back. “Nothing, Chef. It’s perfect.” He said firmly. Those words made your breath leave your lungs, hands becoming clammy, and before you knew it you were grinning.

“Really?” You asked, not able to keep your excitement together.

Carmy let out a full laugh at that. “Really.” He confirmed.

You clapped your hands together before covering your face, hiding the grin as best you could. It had been awhile since you felt so elated due to cooking, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You felt like the whole month of dedicating your time to cooking was culminating to this moment. Carmen watched you with soft eyes, taking in how happy his words made you. You turned back to him, giving up hiding how ecstatic you were. “I braised it differently this time, could you tell? Well, obviously you could if it’s good this time.” You rambled on, a bit of a giggle in your voice.

“It’s always this good, Y/N.” Carmy suddenly said. His words had you pausing, tilting your head playfully. Hand trailing along the counter, he rounded it to stand next to you.

"What do you mean?" You asked, smile falling a bit. The man's words echoed in your head and you looked around the room as if to try and find meaning from his statement. Surely he didn't have you remake the dish for no reason, right? But Carmy's strong posture and raised brows, waiting for you to figure it out yourself, made you think that's exactly what he did. Sobering up, you scoffed and crossed your arms as you sent him a look. "Are you serious? This whole time..." You trailed off.

"Yes, this whole time." He said, leaning on the counter with one hand, eyes not leaving you. "I needed you to bust your ass, Chef. I knew you needed the practice, so I gave you the motive." Carmy explained. The scrunch of your nose made his chest hum with something warm, akin to looking at a kicked puppy that he wanted to scoop up and reassure. Guilt washed over him a little bit as he feared he was acting more and more like his old Chef, but he pushed those feelings down as best he could. He did this for the right reasons, unlike that dickhead in New York did to him. There was no berating and preying on insecurities, just some tough love.

Sighing, you were torn between being angry and feeling grateful that Carmy saw this potential in you. You didn't know what to say, so you blurted out exactly how you felt. "I'm embarrassed."

Carmy frowned, ducking his head to catch your eyes where you looked down a bit. "Why are you embarrassed?" His voice was soft, tiptoeing as to not make you more upset.

Allowing him to meet your eyes, you curled into yourself at the attention. "Because I've made a fool of myself these past few months." You murmured, spilling your guts to your new boss for some reason that you didn't know. Maybe it was the quiet kitchen, or the sudden defeat you felt, but your mouth was faster than your mind.

A small 'no, no, no' left Carmy and he shook his head, reaching a hand out to place on your shoulder. "Don't be. I came in and turned shit upside down, it just took you a bit more practice to get the hang of things." His hand started to rub your arm comfortingly, leaving heat where he touched. You knew this must have been a form of an apology in his own way. The words didn't come easy to Carmen, but he tried to convey it the best he could.

Leaning forward, Carmy mustered his best stern expression, wanting to keep your gaze so you couldn't look away and distract yourself from his next words. Your breath caught in your throat, not used to this proximity. "I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself too."

Heat encapsulated your cheeks and you nodded, spurring him to nod as well. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As soon as Carmy saw your shy smile he gave one right back to you. Still close, he radiated heat that made it all the more difficult to calm the butterflies growing in your stomach. Eyes never leaving each other's, the air grew tense as the dust settled. Unlike the usual sandwich smell, an aroma of a clean linen scent came off of him as you realized he must have showered before coming here. Carmy never would admit it, but your perfume filled the air for him, making him linger longer than he should have. The blink of your stare looking up at him made Carmy's chest tighten, and he immediately pulled himself out of whatever trance he was in.

Clearing his throat, Carmy let go of your shoulder and backed up a bit. "No more all-nighter's here. Okay, Chef?" He tried to seem playful to rid himself of awkwardness and whatever that just was.

Mouth falling open, you gaped at him. "How did you know?!"

Hands up in surrender, Carmy just shrugged. "A Chef never tells his secrets," He began, heading over to the drying rack to busy himself, playfully adding, "And someone kept leaving the spare key out, so I figured." The smirk he sent you made you grin and roll your eyes.

Carmy would never tell you he knew because that's what he used to do. Before he got the hang of things in his earlier days as a chef, late nights in the restaurant kitchen and a half hour of sleep was the norm for him. As you began cleaning up your work the chef's gaze lingered on you, blue eyes studying your form with a thoughtful look. Carmy shook his head, smiling to himself and starting his work. He reckoned he saw himself in you more than ever.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

1K notes · View notes

honeyedmiller · 8 months

Text

Ring | Joel Miller

pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader

warnings: tommy’s being a little shit lol, marriage, reader is unintentionally oblivious for a bit, no outbreak, reader is depicted to be shorter than joel, au where ellie is joel and reader’s adopted daughter but she’s only very briefly mentioned, smut (bathroom quickie), slight jealousy, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 2k

synopsis: Tommy teases Joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your ring.

quick one shot in honor of 700 followers??? oh my god?? i love u all sm thank you!!!

this was honestly kinda poorly written. forgive me :’)

“Hey big brother, what’s up with you and your girl?” Tommy asks, brows furrowed as he leans up against the counter next to Joel.

“Hell are ya talkin’ about, Tommy?” Joel continues to chop onions for the barbecue you guys were throwing today.

“Are you guys, I dunno, having marriage problems?” Tommy quirks a brow, and Joel halts his movements. He sets the knife down on the counter while averting his gaze up to his brother, expression clearly displaying pure annoyance.

Tommy might’ve bugged the shit out of Joel, but he knew he had good intentions. So why the hell would he be asking this?

“What makes you say that?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest now, waiting for Tommy to spew some bullshit at him.

“She’s not wearin’ her ring.” Tommy shrugs, and Joel’s permanent furrowed brow lines deepen even further.

“The hell she ain’t. She always wears her ring.” Joel argues back.

“Go see for yourself big brother.” Tommy gestures outside, where Joel pushes past him and slides open the glass door to find you at the cooler talking with some random new guy from the neighborhood. Joel noticed that he was trying to flirt with you, and being the naturally kindhearted and welcoming person you were, you didn’t catch on.

Joel also noticed that Tommy was right—you weren’t wearing your ring.

If there was one thing that Joel learned from you over the years you’ve been together and three years married, it was how to properly communicate his feelings. He used to be so closed off and would bottle everything up, letting stuff bother him until he became so distant.

You weren’t having any of that, though, so you sat him down one day and told him that you needed proper communication between you both. You were a saint with Joel, being so patient and kind to him as he was trying to unlearn his previous ways of shutting himself out from everyone around him when he didn’t exactly know how to communicate something.

Some days were harder than others, but ever the sweetheart you are, you never rushed him or got irritated when he couldn’t exactly seem to form his words to you. You just held him and kissed him repeatedly, letting him know it was okay and he could take his time.

This time around, he didn’t seem to have a single bit of a problem telling you what he was feeling. So, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your temple to show the man that was so clearly interested in you that you were taken.

“Hey darlin’.” Joel rasps into your ear, kissing your shoulder afterward.

“Hey baby. This is Dominic. He’s new to the neighborhood. Dominic, this is my husband, Joel.”

Joel sported a shit-eating grin when Dominic’s body went rigid at the word husband. Joel stuck his hand out to him, and Dominic apprehensively shook his hand. Joel’s grip was firmer than it regularly was, and Dominic flinched in the slightest.

“Thanks for keeping my beautiful wife some company while I got stuff ready for the grill.” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and you looked up at him with a quirked brow.

He offered you a tight-lipped smile when his gaze met yours, clearing his throat. “Can I steal you for a minute, baby?” He asks, arms possessively wrapping around your frame. You nod, confused as to why Joel was acting a bit strange suddenly.

He intertwines your hand with his, and you excuse yourself from Dominic as Joel led you into the house and up to your bedroom.

“What’s this about, Joel?” You question as he closes the bedroom door, locking it behind him.

“Where’s your wedding ring at, baby?” He asks, looking down at you. A glint of something flashes across his eyes, but you couldn’t put your finger on what.

“‘S in my jewelry box. I didn’t wanna lose it helping around the backyard today or swimming if I did, so I knew it would be safe in there instead. Why?” Your curiosity is piqued.

Joel slowly maneuvers himself past you and over to your jewelry box, opening the top of it to firstly find your wedding ring neatly placed.

He takes the ring out of the jewelry box and walks over to you, grabbing your left hand to slip it onto your ring finger once more. Right where it belongs, perfectly fitted. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly.

“Tommy’s bein’ a little shit, as always. Came into the kitchen with assumptions that we were having ‘marriage problems’ because you weren’t wearing your ring.” He tsked, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Y’gotta stop letting Tommy get into your head, J. I love you, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him, and his lips curled up in the slightest.

“I know baby, I just can’t help but feel jealous when I see another man flirting with my woman.”

“Jealous? Of who?” You were puzzled at Joel’s confession, resting a steady hand on his warm chest.

“That new neighbor. Dylan or whatever the fuck his name is.” Joel spat.

You had no idea Dominic was even flirting with you. You thought he was just being friendly. Fuck, maybe Joel was right. Maybe you are oblivious sometimes.

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips envelope yours. One hand of his is splayed over the small of your back while the other rests on the outside of your thigh, rubbing small circles into your exposed skin. The dress you were wearing today was just another distraction for Joel and a reminder that he needed to behave himself or else the whole neighborhood would hear you saying his name like a prayer on Sunday morning.

Joel’s cock stirred at the thought, and he groaned into the kiss. You pulled apart from him and moved your hands down to his chest again.

“C’mon cowboy, people are gonna wonder where we’re at.” You grin, going to the bedroom door to unlock it. You were about halfway down the hallway before Joel tugged you into the bathroom on your right side.

“They can wait.” He closed the door and pressed you up against it, locking the lock before smashing his lips to yours.

There was so much hunger behind his kiss. You felt slick start to pool onto your panties, the want in your core licking a flame up your body. You moan into the kiss, gripping the back of his head to mold yourself even further into him. It was nothing but teeth clashing, lips smacking, and fervor for one another as the kiss continued.

“Gotta make this quick, babydoll.” Joel finally broke the kiss as you softly whined, and he turned you around to move you in front of the wide mirror. You met his gaze through the reflection, nothing but hunger in his eyes.

He lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down your legs in one swift motion. His middle finger wasted no time in collecting the slick arousal between your legs, causing you to moan softly.

“Always so ready for me, baby.” Joel chuckled darkly as he brought his middle finger up to suck your arousal off of it. He looked you right into the reflection of your eyes as he did so. The sight was nearly pornographic.

You bite your lip and plead with your eyes; please please please just fuck me, Joel.

His middle finger made its way back down to your slick cunt before he pushed it into you, pumping languidly. He curled his thick finger to hit the spot that drove you wild, and you found yourself gripping onto the counter for dear life. You decided, though, that his finger just wasn’t enough in this moment.

“Please, J. I need you.”

“Need you too, baby.” Joel got the message clear as day, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper and jeans button in record time, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. His painful erection sprung free, and he lined himself up with your throbbing, aching cunt.

He easily found home in you as he sunk to the hilt, groaning at how good you felt around him.

“Be a good girl for me and tell me who you belong to.” Joel’s voice was dark, teetering on the line of possessive. You found it hot, though.

“Y-Yours, Joel. ‘M all yours.” You can barely say your words as he starts to rock his hips, deliciously stretching you out every time his hips collided with your ass.

“That’s it, baby, mine. No one else’s. Perfect little pussy is mine, you’re mine, mine.” He gritted into your hair, pulling you back against him by your waist as he rocked his hips up into you. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, moaning his name softly.

“Gotta be quiet, baby, can’t have anyone hearin’ us now.” Joel kissed you sloppily to hide your lewd moans, hips snapping up into you.

“Fuck, Joel, feel s’good.” Your words start to mesh together like you’re absolutely cock drunk.

Joel bends you back down over the sink and gently wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look up into the mirror as he pounds into you from behind.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ me so well, sweet girl. Been teasin’ me with this little dress on all day.” Joel lets go of your throat and slides his hand down to your front, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions.

You barely have time to process that your body is about to give into Joel’s expert touch. You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw falling completely slack as you let out an accidental loud moan. Joel didn’t even stop you that time, because he himself was already on the brink of an orgasm.

“Cum with me, my love.” Joel groans into your ear. You both let go and just let it happen, praying that the music playing in the backyard is loud enough to cover your wanton moans as you both come down from your orgasms. Joel was reluctant to move out of you at first, but he couldn’t take the way you were clenched down on him anymore.

You were so fucking intoxicating and if it were his choice, he’d gladly be buried into your sweet, warm cunt all of the time.

Reality trickled back in around you both as he pulled out of you with a groan, both breathless and panting. After readjusting and redressing himself, he grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet above the toilet and wet it, wiping down the excess of his remnants on the apex of your inner thighs. He planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, pulling your panties up on you as he stood back up.

He helped fix your hair and readjusted you so you looked almost completely normal, albeit your face felt hot and you had a post-fuck look on your face.

He brought you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your hair.

“I love you, baby.” He murmurs softly, rocking you for a minute.

“I love you too.” Your reached your left hand up to hook onto his forearm that was wrapped around you, giving it a squeeze. Your ring glinted in the sunlight that pooled into the bathroom window, and Joel smiled happily.

“We’ll continue this later tonight, baby. Maybe Sarah and Ellie can spend the night at a friend’s house tonight.”

Your lips curl into a smile at his suggestion, and you lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Let’s get back out to the party.” He pats your ass and opens the door, coming out after you. You make your way down the stairs, Joel hot on your trail.

Tommy gives Joel a knowing look of ‘I know exactly what you two were up to.’

Joel scoffs at Tommy and grumbles as he moves past his younger brother.

“Marriage problems my ass.”

tag list: @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana

#joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller smut #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader

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xiaoxo · 2 months

Text

₊˚·७ YOU’RE MINE, ALL MINE

featuring — xiao, scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou, y/l/n y/n

summary — a guy comes up to you and starts flirting with you. even when you mention you have a boyfriend, he doesn’t back off. how does your boyfriend react to the situation?

warnings — xiao, scara, kazuha, and heizou x gn!reader (separate), self indulgent, smut, jealous boys, creepy men (not any of the l/i’s), slightly sub!scaramouche with dom!reader, slight mentions of violence, established relationship in xiao, kazuha, & heizou’s, possessiveness from reader & scara but relationship not established until the end of drabble, reader and itto are best friends in kazu’s, spanking & degration in heizou’s, mentions of reader’s mother being famous for her looks in kazu’s, xiangling and shenhe make an appearance in xiao’s <3

messages from the stars — jealous boys are my weakness. sorry the banners kinda dark i found it darker than most of my banners </3

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

one day, you were busy shopping in liyue harbor. you decided to have lunch at wanmin restaurant, hoping your friend, xiangling, would be there.

thankfully she was and you ordered your food and caught up. it was then that a stranger came up and asked to sit beside you since all the seats were taken.

you obliged but were wary. something about this man was off. he wore the attire of a treasure hoarder but looked like he was trying to disguise himself.

“you…you’re very pretty,” he said, looking at you. you gulped nervously. “thank you,” you mumbled, continuing your conversation with xiangling.

the man was breathing heavily while staring at you, which creeped you out. “do you need something from them, sir?” xiangling asked. “a date, yes,” he said bluntly. “i’m sorry, i have a boyfriend.” “he don’t gotta know.” he smirked and winked at you.

“i’m sure he’d find out one way or another,” you explained, shaking your head. “y/n, is this man bothering you?” shenhe asked after serving a customer, immediately noticing your nervous expression.

“no, we’re just having a friendly chat,” the man tried assuring. “i asked them, not you,” she said sternly. you gave her a subtle nod.

“excuse me sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave the restaurant,” xiangling said, standing up and brushing herself off.

“you can’t kick me out! i’m a dedicated customer,” he said gruffly. “now sweetheart, how about that date?” he turned his attention to you. “no, i don’t think xiao or me would like that.”

suddenly, the adeptus appeared in front of them. “you— you’re dating the vigilant yaksha?” he stammered. “who are you?” xiao crossed his arms, asking sternly.

“this man has appeared to make y/n uncomfortable, asking them out despite dating you,” shenhe explained the situation.

“is that so?” xiao looked at the man with piercing eyes. “i— i didn’t know they were dating you! i promise not to interfere,” he said nervously, stumbling over his words.

the man breathed heavily and fearfully before getting out of his seat and rushing off. you let out a sigh of relief.

“let’s go,” he told you, helping you get up. he kept a possessive grip around your waist as he held you, teleporting to wangshu inn.

once he got you in his room, he ripped yours and his clothes off and tossed you on the bed.

“who does he think he is? talking to my lover,” xiao huffed, pounding into you. “mmph! xiao,” you moaned out, gripping the sheets below you.

you came abruptly, feeling your juices spilling onto the bed. xiao just watched as your hole overflowed, leaking out. “if you think we’re done, you’re wrong. i still need to make sure you know you’re mine.”

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

you were waiting for scaramouche to show up to a meeting he planned with you and a couple other fatui members. he wasn’t one to miss meetings, at least with you, but he was running late this time.

it wasn’t long before one of the members approached you and tried having a conversation with you. “so are you from around here?” he asked, a creepy smile plastered on his face.

“yes, you can say that,” you explained, crossing your arms. it was a bad idea, seeing the man’s eyes drift onto your cleavage through your form-fitting top with a v-neck. you immediately uncrossed your arms, huffing in annoyance.

archons, what was taking scaramouche so long?

“how about you and i get out of here and ditch this meeting? there seems to be some obvious tension between us,” he said in a sultry tone, smirking. “no, i’m fine, thanks.” you brushed him off, continuing to look around for scaramouche.

“oh come on, sweetheart, don’t play hard to get,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “back. off.” scaramouche’s voice was heard, gripping the man’s hand tightly and slowly pulling it off.

“lord scaramouche!” the man stammered. “who do you think you are touching other subordinates?” “i-i just…i thought they liked me! so i wanted to—” “like you? who would like utter trash like you? let alone someone as skilled as y/n,” he scoffed, turning to face you.

the man glanced at you then back at him. “i-i-i’m sorry, lord scaramouche! i won’t ever assume again,” he said, almost pleading for him to be spared. “you’re fired. get out of my sight,” he told him, crossing his arms.

the ex-fatui member scurried away. “you’re coming with me.” scaramouche grit his teeth, dragging you to the hotel where he was staying.

when you entered the hotel room, he pinned you against the wall of his bedroom. “don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, smirking. “ha! how little do you think of me? i merely need to remind you that you belong to me. you’re under my command,” he told you.

“oh i might be, but in bed,” you pushed him onto the bed, “you’re under mine.” you kissed him before he could deny anything. “even if we aren’t together, you’re mine and mine alone,” you breathed out, straddling his lap.

pinning him to the bed, you peppered kisses throughout his face and neck, leaving dark and deep hickies. grinding on his lap, he stifled a moan. something about being dominated was exciting. sure he liked being in control, but maybe it was okay to lower his guard around you, especially with you making him feel so good.

“y/n, ahh!” he moaned, feeling you suck on the spot that made his eyes roll back. you left a dark red hickey, officially marking him yours. pulling away, you admired your work, enjoying him all marked up by you and you alone.

stripping out of both your clothes, you lined his cock up with your entrance, sliding down. “you don’t know..how long i’ve been waiting for this,” you sighed out, riding him and leaning down.

your hands wrapped around his neck. it wasn’t like he needed to breathe, but the act was so arousing to him, just to be touched so explicitly made his body run in excitement.

you tried keeping your composure, but scaramouche’s cock was just so good. he hit all the right spots and split you in half perfectly. running your fingers in his hair, you kissed him again.

feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, you whimpered an “ ‘m close,” to him. “a—ahh! me too, y/n,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “god you’re adorable. your moans for me are the cutest!♡︎” you told him, smirking down at him.

cumming intensely, scaramouche shot his sperm into your hole, filling you up entirely.

both coming down from your high, you didn’t lose eye contact. “you’re mine now, all fucking mine.”

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

kazuha wasn’t usually the jealous type, but seeing you talking with itto sparked the unfamiliar feeling in his chest. the way you got along with him so well made him think of his times with you. sure you had things in common but the way you got along with itto just seemed like he was a better fit for you.

“kazu, you’re here!” you exclaimed, seeing your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. “missed you,” you murmured in his ear, and suddenly he had nothing to worry about.

“itto, this is my boyfriend, kaedehara kazuha,” you explained, smiling at your best friend. “b—boyfriend? wait, you’re the one who blocked the shogun’s attack!” itto started asking him a dozen and a half questions.

“itto!” you snapped, telling him to tone it down. “sorry, sorry! i’m arataki “the one and oni” itto!” he gave his dramatic introduction, brushing his hair. kazuha awkwardly smiled, glancing at you.

“he’s a bit much,” you muttered, winking at him.

during dinner, you would not stop talking about itto and yours escapades, having stars in your eyes as you recalled every moment. of course kazuha was grateful you were having fun with friends but when you mentioned he had a childhood crush on your mom when he was younger made the pit in his stomach come back.

your mother was one of inazuma’s beauties growing up. her looks spread across the region and may people tried courting her. unfortunately, only a narcissistic asshole caught her eye, fooling her with his ‘charms’ and manipulation.

what if itto sought after you because you reminded him of your mom? would he even make a move on you? in reality, itto wouldn’t dream of it, viewing you as only his best friend and respecting that you had a boyfriend.

“what about itto makes him so interesting to talk about?” he suddenly asked, making your expression drop. “i just…we’ve been hanging out a lot together, i wanted to fill you in,” you murmured. now he felt a little bad, seeing he ruined the mood for you.

“i’m sorry darling, please keep talking.” your expression brightened, continuing your rambling about yours and itto’s prank on shinobu.

later that night, you rested in the same bed as him, reading a book. but, kazuha wanted you. after seeing you with itto, he needed to feel you again, feel your body against his as he came inside you over and over.

“y/n,” he began, clasping your wrist. “yes?” you placed your book down. “i…i need you,” he admitted bashfully. you smiled at him, closing your book after marking where you left off.

turning around, you leaned in and kissed him, bringing him onto your lap. he pecked and nibbled at your lips, tasting your lipgloss. his hands went to pull your nightgown off.

now completely bare for him, you looked up at him with an embarrassed expression. “t— take your clothes off too, it’s not fair that i’m the only one naked,” you mumbled shyly. kazuha chuckled at your usual shyness when it came to activities like this.

“as you wish, my dear,” he cooed, undressing out of his white shirt and boxers. he lined his cock up with your entrance, pushing in. he stifled a moan as he thrusted into you at a steady pace.

“mm, kazu,” you moaned out, biting your lip. kazuha leaned down and roughly made out with you, licking and biting at your lip. he couldn’t get enough of you.

as he thrusted in and out, he couldn’t help but admire you—your sinful expression, the drool pooling at the sides of your mouth, and the way your walls wrapped around his cock so perfectly.

“a— ah love, i’m gonna— mmh!” he groaned, feeling the knot tighten in his stomach. “me too— kazu! mmph!” he kissed you roughly with a bit of possessiveness. his fingers dug into your skin as he rode out his high with you.

“i love you, darling,” he cooed softly. “only you.”

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

it was finally time for you to exact your revenge on your boyfriend. for months, he’s been teasing and making you jealous. now, it was finally time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

a new member was appointed at the tenryou commission and you were tasked with showing him the ropes. you could tell he was into you, from his stammered speech and flushed cheeks.

you would purposefully linger your hands on his and whisper in his ear, sending chills down his spine. “you’re doing so well, you’re a natural at this,” you would coo.

it was when heizou entered your office with a bouquet of flowers that he found you giggling with the new member.

he immediately halted in his steps upon seeing you caress the man’s arm, seeing his face heat up at your touch.

“oh, heizou!” you exclaimed, finally acknowledging your boyfriend. “y/n, who’s this?” he asked, glaring daggers into the man. “this is hayakawa-san, he’s a new member of the tenryou commission. i’ve been tasked with showing him the ropes.”

“i see,” he said flatly. “i-i can leave,” hayakawa stammered. “no it’s fine—” “if you could, please. i need some time alone with y/n,” heizou interrupted. the man rose out of his seat and scampered out of the room.

heizou placed the flowers on the coffee table, approaching you. you stood up to greet him with an innocent kiss but he flipped you over and bent you over the table.

he pulled your shorts down and gave you a rough slap against your ass. “you little slut, thinking you can whore yourself out to the newest member of the tenryou commission,” he said, giving your ass another slap.

you whimpered, biting your lip. “just have to show you your mine, huh?” he chuckled, pulling his cock out. lining it up with your hole, he slowly slid in your tight hole.

both of you sighed in relief, heizou breathing out with each thrust into you. “mine, all fucking mine!” he said aloud, looking at the way your ass bounced with his thrusts.

“no matter who i flirt with, who you flirt with, you’ll always be mine, okay baby?” his voice changed as he whispered in your ear, caressing the dip in your back. “but will you be mine?” you retorted, huffing before letting out a moan.

heizou pursed his lips together. the only reason he flirted was to rile you up. he didn’t intend on making you question your relationship. “all yours, y/n. only yours.”

#꒰♡︎ luma’s works ☆꒱#꒰♡︎ genshin impact ☆꒱#genshin x reader #genshin impact #xiao smut #scaramouche smut #kaedehara kazuha smut #shikanoin heizou smut #xiao x gn reader #scaramouche x gn reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader

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draconic-desire · 2 months

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A Dance With the Dragon IV — Escape

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] Part IV — You are here]

After four hundred years, the chance for escape finally presents itself—what will you choose?

Warnings: Yandere behavior, brief mentions of NSFW thoughts and past events, feral dragon Neuvillette

Your opportunity for escape came on a gray and dismal day.

The past week had been particularly grueling for the Chief Justice—or so he had panted into your ear while he pinned you to the bed, skin slick with sweat and his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

You’d initially took it as a thinly veiled excuse for the dragon to lash out, for him to lay claim to you once again, but you soon noticed his focus actually wavering. Just enough for it to slip his mind to tell your Melusine guards (or guides, as Neuvillette would insist) not to bring you to his office for your regular afternoon tea with him. Furina had insisted on his last-minute presence at the meeting between her and certain Snezhnayan diplomats, and his unwavering sense of responsibility to Fontaine prevented him from rejecting the order.

That was how you found yourself sitting alone in his office.

You were quite confused. Neuvillette never skipped tea with you. In fact, as the busiest man in Fontaine, he insisted on it. It was a new development, one he thought might bring the two of you closer and outside of a purely domestic setting.

You’d be grateful for the change of scenery if you didn’t end up bent over his desk half the time.

In the beginning you had fought him on it, but as time in his captivity stretched on you soon realized this was one of the only chances allotted to you beyond your shared abode, especially now that the Opera was off limits. You even got to chat with the Melusines who acted as your sweet, naive guards. They reminded you of Carole and your previous life, a bittersweet memory that you held onto like a fleeting dream.

Now, you couldn’t help but start to fidget in your seat. When one minute became two, and two became five, and five became ten, you couldn’t help the anxious tapping of your nails against his desk. Where was he? Had something happened to him? You knew the Chief Justice would never commit a crime, but the notion of him imprisoned forever in the Fortress or Meropide was one that brought you comfort during your unrequited relationship.

Particularly on nights he would remind you of whose sentence you were under, whose wife and mate you were.

Pushing both hands against the desk, you rose to your feet and stormed towards the door. You wouldn’t sit idly to stew in your own thoughts. You raised a fist, preparing to knock harshly to alert any Melusine or the Iudex himself whose inhuman perspectives misinterpreted this as some sort of sick joke—

Except the slightest force sent the door ajar, presenting you with an empty hallway.

It was unlocked.

You couldn’t help the quickening of your heart rate. It invaded your senses, your hearing, your feeling, until it drowned out all of your thoughts but one.

You could leave.

The absence of any other individual was unheard of. Logically, it didn’t make sense; there should have been a guard if Neuvillette expected to be late, or others working in the main office if they hadn’t been dismissed for break as usual (though you knew it was only to spare them of any ungentlemanly sounds that might be coming from his office after you entered).

It was then you realized: Neuvillette had made a mistake.

You didn’t spare a single glance back as you strode out the doors of the Palais Mermonia and onto the streets of Fontaine.

Navigating your way out of the Court was easier than expected. Although there was no mistaking who you were when Neuvillette dragged you out in public—whom else’s waist would he retain an iron grip on throughout an entire opera if not his loving partner—without him by your side, you appeared like any other resident.

Obtaining Mora for the ferry ride to Sumeru was also a breeze. You had no moral objections to pocketing a few coins from unsuspecting citizens along the docks. Why would you, when you had been serving a lifetime sentence of imprisonment anyway?

The ship wasn’t anything fancy and was mostly filled with traveling salesmen and local fishermen, but after centuries of being doted on and monitored constantly, you savored the feeling of being normal, of feigning the role of a traveling merchant. You truly never thought that pretending to be an average worker would feel so freeing.

Suddenly, the skin of your arm began to crawl, feeling like a thousand pinpricks were digging their claws under your skin. You hissed at the sharp pain, gasping at the brief flash of your draconic tattoo, and then…nothing. You could almost always feel it, but it seems that upon crossing a certain distance the leviathan decided to lie dormant. You thanked Barbados for your luck; in your certainty of escaping, you hadn’t even thought of the physical tie between you and Neuvillette.

As the boat pulled out of the dock, relief washed over you like the serenity after a storm. After months of the Iudex, the supposed upholder of Justice, violating every rule against you, you were finally free.

As you watched Fontaine’s massive cliffs fade into the waves, you briefly mourned your choice to leave your Hydro Vision behind; however, you reasoned that the risk in going back for it and wasting precious time was too great. Not to mention the fact that you were sure you’d never get away with slipping it out of Neuvillette’s grasp, and you certainly didn’t want to squander this chance by running back into his arms. Although you knew the rumors of what happened to bearers who lost their Visions, you were willing to take your chances if it meant securing your freedom.

A sudden splash against your cheek jerked you from your thoughts. Upon looking up, you found the previously azure sky to have darkened. Rain began steadily falling, soon fully soaking your frilly dress (another insistence of Neuvillette’s, that you always wear dresses for teatime…never again!). Thunder rolled across the waters, bringing a taste of pain, anger, and betrayal with it.

Ah, so he’s realized your absence. Good—let him rage. Let him experience the heartbreak of losing what you hold most dear.

Maybe that will serve as his atonement for his sins against you.

You noticed then that, like your draconic captor, you too were crying. Though not of sadness—no, yours were tears of joy.

~*~

Although you had originally planned to journey back to your homeland in the City of Wind—not that you had anyone left there to return to, it was more for your own comfort—you found Sumeru to be to your liking. It was Fontaine’s foil—hot, dry, intellectually driven yet full of untamed wilderness. Full of real, thriving flora and fauna that cold, inorganic meka could never match.

The presence of the Akademiya and Port Ormos even offered you a line to continue your photography and research. Due to the dark room Neuvillette had installed in the library, your skills with a camera hadn’t grown too rusty over the centuries. Now, you finally were able to photograph your true passions again—nature, the water, the animals around you. Their harmony and beauty together, their freedom.

It may seem as if you hadn’t gotten far, but with how vast the Nation of Wisdom was, you felt safe to start anew. For the first time in four hundred years, you felt at home.

Three months had passed since your escape, with no indication that the Iudex was on your trail. After enrolling in the Akademiya (which had required you to change your name, since posing as a four hundred year old would probably not go over well), you even found a group of fellow students that you worked and resided with in the city. You were still careful, of course—you never traveled alone, avoided looking flashy in public, and even altered your look by cutting your hair to suit the arid climate.

That is, until you weren’t.

Your advisor appointed you to join an exclusive research project on the wildlife transition along the Sumeru/Fontaine border. Having experience with Fontaine’s biology, you were the clear candidate. Your initial trepidation almost won out, but you finally conceded at the encouragement of your peers. You’d even be traveling with your advisor and two of your roommates, so you chalked your nerves up to not having set foot in the direction of Fontaine in months. After all, you’d been meaning to explore the desert and its ecology—you just needed to take the plunge and face your fears.

Water was a rarity in the desert, after all.

Which is why, as your party was ascending the final dunes of the Desert of Hadramaveth, you believed the tall, blue-adorned figure approaching was a mirage. A result of dehydration after days of travel in these harsh conditions, a trick of the mind—

“Of all the places you could have escaped to, was it necessary to choose such a dry and barren place as this?” The last part was mumbled under his breath, his tone taking on a low growl, “I cannot help but feel that you bringing me here is some form of an assassination attempt…”

At the sound of his voice, just as deep and commanding as you remembered, your entire being came to a standstill. You despised how you had been conditioned for that tone to send a pangs of trepidation to your core.

Yet despite the Chief Justice’s presence right before you, a part of your brain refused to process it. He was the Hydro dragon, for Archon’s sake. What in all of Teyvat could drag him to the farthest place from the sea?

You, apparently.

At your silence, Neuvillette’s lips tightened. His expression was near unreadable, but you recognized the tumultuous mix of anger and longing storming under that stoic facade.

The other members of your group appeared confused and uneasy. Apparently Neuvillette’s reputation preceded him, even outside of Fontaine, for the common mumbling you picked up on was speculations of his role here.

“Is that the Chief Justice of Fontaine?” a professor whispered to your advisor nervously. “What is he doing here? Surely none of us have offended the court…” Her eyes flickered to you briefly. Due to the nature of the research, it was common knowledge among the group that you were the one with connections to Fontaine.

Said Justice took a step towards you, spurring you to take a larger step back. You knew running wasn’t an option, but you reasoned that he couldn’t just take you clawing and spitting for all your colleagues to witness. No, he would have to convince them of your guilt before he could act.

Well, two could play at that game; you lived with Neuvillette long enough to learn some of his ticks and tells, especially when it came to you. This would be a game of negotiation, a chess match of wits. Neuvillette’s intellect was near unmatched, but if you played your cards right, you could win.

The tide that is Fontaine’s Iudex may one day sweep you under his control, but it is not this day.

“Madame (L/n), by the authority of the Court of Fontaine and the Nation of Justice, I hereby place you under my custody for immediate detainment.”

Or not.

A few of the researchers around you gasped, tittering about your supposed false identity. The professor from earlier backed away from you with a sneer. Looking around, you noted that even your friends were eyeing you warily like some stranger.

All logic left you at the dragon’s announcement. The terror gripping your heart was replaced by blinding, bubbling rage. You would not concede to the man who took everything from you and would take it all again, washing away the life you had built again like a house of sand.

You practically hissed in response. Now this was familiar. “Under what charges?”

Lifting his cane, Neuvillette summoned a levitating tome from which he read, “Multiple accounts of theft, use of a fraudulent identity, desertion in court to be tried for said charges, and emotional damages to the residents of Fontaine affected by your careless and selfish actions.”

You scoffed, your lip curling in a snarl. “And I suppose that last ‘charge’ applies specifically to you?”

The draconic man merely narrowed his piercing purple eyes. Unlike your own, Neuvillette’s demeanor did not falter. He wanted you to lash out, to validate the accusations against you in front of the Sumerian researchers. His objective was solely to retrieve you—quelling your anger would come later.

The day you left Fontaine, Neuvillette had felt a piece of his soul shatter.

He could feel the very moment you crossed the border, when the draconic bond between mates and lovers was severed. It was a guillotine to his head, a rope around his neck, a bullet to his temple. Pain, raw and agonizing, enveloped his very being. The dragon beneath his skin raged, begging Neuvillette to fly to you and sink his claws so deep you could never leave again. The all-consuming panic over your loss, over your safety now that you were outside of his sight, had threatened to rise up and smother him, to drown him and sweep the fractured pieces away until he was nothing.

It had rained for weeks straight, so much so that the citizens of Fontaine brought back the old adage—Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.

As much as he wanted, needed to find you, the Chief Justice could not simply abandon his post and his people. Going against his very nature, he quelled the dragon and settled on deploying Gardemeks to Sumeru and Liyue to search for you. It had been easy enough to program them with your photo and statement of your status as a fugitive. Surely you couldn’t have gotten any farther than the regions bordering Fontaine, and if so, the mekas would signal your location to him in no time.

So, after weeks on end of the Garde failing to locate you, Neuvillette’s anxiety swelled from a shower to a tempest, a storm of violent wind and flurrying emotion. He found himself in the library he had built you, clawed fingers clutching his face with labored breaths. Black danced across his vision.

Was he not enough for you? Had he not given you anything and everything you could desire? Had he not kept his mate safe?

Why did you abandon me, (Y/n)?

When he had come to, the room was in tatters, the carpet shredded with claw marks and the walls smoldering with blue energy.

Neuvillette decided then that he could not wait any longer.

Tracking you only fueled the dragon. It could sense you, the pull of your tattoo awakening with each step Neuvillette took to close the gap. It was one mate beckoning another, like the pull of the moon on the tide. Your light guided him straight into your path.

And when Neuvillette finally saw your figure, illuminated by the hottest desert sun, he had nearly fallen to his knees and wept in relief. You were so beautiful, yet the look of terror on your face ripped his soul apart all over again. Even now, even here, you wanted to reject him. Could you not see how far he would travel for you, how long his reach would extend just to keep you safe?

In that moment, the dragon roared, and Neuvillette listened.

After seemingly endless hours, days, and months to think about the reasons you left him, he realized that he must have been too lenient with you. He practically was the law in Fontaine, yet he had dismissed your transgressions time and time again, thinking your outbursts were simply a temporary response to your new life with him. Yes, the transition had been sudden and the charges against you quite ridiculous, but he truly believed you would fall for him as he did you.

He would tolerate your backlash no more. No longer would he spoil you with gifts, hoping, praying to every member of the Seven just for you to smile at him. Never again would he sigh in defeat when you spurned his touch, leaving him to fuck his hand to the mere idea of you initiating physical intimacy.

No, just like any other criminal in Fontaine, you would have to be imprisoned until you learned your place—in your case, by his side. And he would be lying if he said the idea of punishing you for your offenses, for leaving him, didn’t cause his cock to twitch in anticipation.

The dragon demanded to be satisfied, and it would have its fill.

“We have numerous reports of you stealing Mora from unsuspecting individuals, as well as the testimony from the ship’s captain that you claimed to be a merchant immigrating to Sumeru. Then, of course, comes the addition consequences for violating the authority of the court by leaving Fontaine. The latter makes you a fugitive.”

“That’s insane! I only had to commit those so-called ‘crimes’ because you—”

“Ah, so you plead guilty.”

You blanched. No, not this again. He was riling you up, making you fumble with your argument like a child, just like your initial confrontation with him in the Opera Epiclese. But that was how he viewed you, wasn’t it? His centuries of experience would always trump your own.

“You know that’s not what I meant—

The sound of your advisor clearing his throat momentarily saved you. “Sir, with all due respect, we do not know whomever this Miss (L/n) you are referring to. This young lady here is Miss (Fake name), and she is one of my finest students. I highly doubt she is the one to have committed these acts.”

Neuvillete’s eyes flashed dangerously towards the researcher. He loomed over your advisor, casting them in shadow. “Shall I arrest you as well for conspiring with a criminal?”

You never thought silence could be so deafening.

The Iudex released a huff. “I didn’t think so.” With a flick of his hand, your wrists became bound together with bands of pure hydro. Your protestations did nothing to deter him as he motioned forward, causing you to be forcibly dragged forwards by an invisible force. You were no stranger to this procedure; Neuvillette had used his powers on you more than once in bed. Now that he had his hydro around you, he held all the authority.

Without the ability to control your movements, you tumbled into Neuvillette’s broad chest. To the others it appeared as if he were securing your bindings, but you shivered as he buried his nose in your hair. Softly, in a voice only meant for you, he sighed, “Oh, how I dreamed of this moment, my darling (Y/n). A valiant effort, to be sure, though your pursuit was always in vain. There is nowhere in all of Teyvat I won’t find you.” His hand ran down the length of your arm, where you knew your draconic tattoo was once more glowing under your tunic. “You are marked as mine, my wife. My mate.”

You jerked your head away despite his scent invading your being. “I will never stop running from you, husband,” you growled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dissolving into the Primordial Sea is preferable to lifetime with you.”

To your surprise, a low chuckle escaped the Chief Justice’s lips. “I think you’ll soon find that I can be quite persuasive.” He stood to his full height, face reverting to his usually stoicism. “I shall be taking my leave with the prisoner, then. If any of you wish to object to this ruling, you may submit a false claim report to the Court, and I will attend to it personally.”

Glancing around at your peers, those you believed to be your friends and colleagues, you knew that none of them would fight for you. News of your detainment would be spread through the Akademiya, forever tarnishing your reputation. It was over, and Neuvillette had emerged victorious once again.

The Iudex motioned you forward with a tip of his cane and an ominous spark in his eyes. “Come, my beloved. Let us return home.”

#yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette #yandere genshin impact #yandere #dragon neuvillette #escape #Yandere escape #run away #fontaine #sumeru #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere imagines

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mydearzero · 9 months

Note

bday sex w/ spencer?

thanks for the request! ♡♡

Hunger | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Penelope has decided enough is enough and throws Spencer a small birthday celebration. Your only duty was to pick up the cake. How could you have known the bakery would give you the wrong one? It's the first time you notice something off about Spencer. He has this look in his eyes you couldn't place, nor shake.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, fluffy really, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.7K words

take a shot every time I say 'look'. This is also the second fic in a row where I mention he keeps his socks on during sex. idk why. he just seems the type, I suppose. it wasn't a conscious choice I made, it just happened - nik

"And you're picking up the cake, right?" Penelope's voice flooded through the speakers of your car. You chuckled at her frantic behaviour.

"Yes, Penelope. I'm on my way to Spencer's now. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

After Spencer hadn't properly celebrated his birthday several years in a row, she insisted on throwing him a small party. She'd dragged you along in her shenanigans.

Which is why there was currently a nondescript white box on the passenger seat of your car. You hadn't dared to open it, even to have a peek. Penelope would have your head if it spoiled in any way.

"Don't you dare drop it! I mean it!" She hung up after her empty threat.

You drove into the parking garage and got out of the car. You walked around and picked up the cake with the utmost care, placing it on the roof and closing the door. You held the cake with both hands and took it to the apartment building.

Penelope met you at the door, taking the box from your hands, putting it in the fridge and ushering you to 'Go sit somewhere and act normal!'

"Calm down, Garcia. Derek's keeping him until at least 19:30. You'll be fine," JJ interjected. You turned to her, sharing a knowing look. If there was anything to love about Penelope, and believe me, there was a lot, then it was her complete devotion and commitment to make her friends happy.

She got everything ready in the living room. Balloons, garlands, presents, the entire childhood dream. Derek gave Garcia a heads-up that they were bound to arrive any minute now.

You walked into the kitchen and got the cake out of the fridge. You grabbed some plates, forks and knives and took everything to the living room.

Spencer wasn't an idiot. He knew when Morgan was holding him hostage from his own apartment, his coworkers must've been planning something for his birthday.

"Oh, I wonder what we'll find when we open the door," Spencer's joking voice could be heard through the door. The sound of keys entering the lock brought a large smile to your face.

When he finally got to walk in the door, his suspicions were confirmed.

The duo joined everybody eagerly awaiting the birthday boy. Penelope looked like she could implode from the excitement. You were sure that if you had enhanced vision, you'd be able to see her vibrate on the spot.

"Surprise!"

Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Derek clapped him on the back and guided him into the group.

Penelope sat Spencer on the grandpa chair she'd situated in the middle of the room, placing a party hat on his head. She'd insisted on them. Even Hotch could not look stoic and rigid with the polka-dotted cone placed on his head.

You walked from the commotion to go put the candles on the cake. You opened the candles, looked for the lighter and finally breached the seal on the white box holding the cake. The sight before you had you perplexed.

Happy Birthday Sexy!

Right. The hot pink cake with white frosting was most certainly not the one intended for Spencer. You let out an uneasy laugh and placed the candles anyway. Cake is cake, I guess.

And it's not wrong.

You lit the candles and walked over just as the others started belting their hearts out. Spencer cringed awkwardly like you're supposed to when people sing you Happy Birthday. You sought panicked eye contact with Penelope but to no avail. She was busy snapping pictures of the birthday boy from every angle.

Spencer locked eyes with you as you set the cake down in front of him. Derek barked a laugh, obviously the first one to notice the mishap. "Way to be bold, mama!"

Spencer gave him a confused glance before turning his eyes to the cake, mouth opening and closing a couple of times due to a loss of words.

"Well, they do say "Aging like fine wine' for a reason," Emily snorted.

"What!? That's not the right cake!" Penelope exclaimed, turning to you. You gave her an apologetic expression, shrugging your shoulders.

"They must've given me the wrong one at the bakery! I didn't want to mess it up, so I left the box closed. I'm sorry, Penelope. But hey, I'm sure it'll taste just fine."

You cut into the cake and dealt out the slices. You contemplated giving the slice reading just the word 'Sexy' to Spencer and gave in. It couldn't do any harm. You brought it to him with a crude attempt at a wink. The man of the hour turned red, if only slightly. He took the cake, thanked you and tentatively tasted the frosting, eyes lighting up in delight.

You swiped a finger through the frosting, putting it in your mouth and tasting it. You nearly had to stop yourself from wincing. My God, that's sweet. But Spencer seemed to love it, which was the crucial part.

You caught his gaze, finger still resting between your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as an unreadable expression on his face before he ironed it out with a smile, raising his plate in a toast. You raised yours back, but your heart wasn't in it. 'What the hell was that?' You wondered as you took a proper bite of the overly sweet cake.

Spencer's gaze had been on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like worry. His mouth had been slightly agape. But it was his eyes that struck you. His pupils were dilated as they seemed to be filled with contemplation.

The expression stuck with you. It wasn't one you'd seen before, not from Spencer. You tried to come up with the right words to describe it throughout the party.

Emily handed you a drink, toasting to another year with Spencer.

Intrigued?

Penelope whispers in your ear, asking what you'd gotten Spencer as a present.

Calculating, maybe?

Rossi tells a life story, wishing Spencer a bright future with many similar experiences.

It was almost ambitious. Or eager, perhaps.

Whatever it was, it was burned into your brain. What made it so compelling was that Spencer clearly hadn't wanted you to see it, seeing how he schooled his expression the second he'd realized you were watching.

You nursed your drink as your coworkers started trickling out of the apartment one by one. You shamelessly watched Spencer as he was engrossed in an animated conversation with Penelope. Emily took a seat next to you, following your gaze to the enthusiastic duo.

She didn't have to speak a word. Years as colleagues and friends were bound to create an implicit form of communication. Add a bunch of profilers, and much went unspoken. You sighed and leaned against the cushions.

"I don't want to hear it, Prentiss."

She laughed fondly. "I'm just saying, I'm gonna be driving Penelope home soon. Just humour me and talk to him about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," you dismissed. You looked down at your drink, refusing to meet her eye.

"You really haven't been present at all tonight. What's got you in your head?" Emily put a hand on your shoulder.

"It's nothing to be worried about, Em. I'm just overthinking. He gave me this look earlier, and it's frustrating me that I can't figure out what it meant," you shrugged.

Emily looked contemplative. "He's been watching you, you know. Not just tonight. It's been a while since I've noticed, though he's really ramped it up."

"What do you mean?" You wondered genuinely.

"I don't know..." Emily started. "He just has this look on his face when he thinks nobody's watching. Believe me, you can ask JJ about it. She's seen it, too. We've talked about it."

"What kind of look?" You asked, curious if it could've been the same thing you spotted earlier tonight.

"I can't really describe it. I'd almost call it... Greed? Maybe? It's a bit off-putting if you ask me. It's only you, though." Emily shrugged, clearly holding back on her explanation. She seemingly weighed her options before continuing.

"You want to know what I think, profiler to profiler?" Emily finally broke. You urged her to continue.

"Objectively speaking, and only looking at the facts, I think it can only be described as hunger." The tone of her voice implied that it wasn't a silly implication she was making for the fun of it.

"Hunger?" You asked, glancing at Spencer from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, hunger. And not the food kind."

You choked on your drink at the implication. "Are you out of your mind? We're at his house, Emily!" You whisper-shouted.

"Yeah, well, whether I tell you here or at the office, the jet, or any other place, the man looks at you like he's starved. You have desire, and then you have this. It's concerning, really."

Of all the things it could've been, hunger wouldn't have been your first guess. Emily sure picked a convoluted way of telling you he undressed you with his mind on the daily, according to her.

You panicked a little when Emily got up from the couch, asking Penelope if she was ready to go home. You glared daggers at her. Don't leave me here with him! Not after what you said.

You could make your exit now, but you'd seem too eager to 'have an out' if you went with them.

Spencer thanked Penelope generously for the party. He was genuinely appreciative of all the thought and effort put into it. You bid your goodbyes to the girls, and with that, you were alone with Spencer.

"Hi," he spoke softly, sitting opposite you on the couch.

"Hey," you replied, laughing a little. You took a sip of your drink, which had gone flat. You put it on the table and turned back to Spencer. There it was again, the look.

He observed every crevice of your face as you did his. Much like with Emily, your communication with Spencer often went unspoken. But you couldn't read him, and it bothered you.

"What's with that look?" You finally dared to ask, ignoring Emily's implication.

His eyebrows furrowed. "What look?"

"The one you gave me just now. And earlier, after I gave you your cake. According to Emily, it's not the first time."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He didn't meet your eye, opting to pick at the threads of the couch. It was a lame attempt at deflection.

"Don't bullshit me, Spencer. You look like you want to eat me alive."

Spencer bit his lip and seemingly calculated every possible outcome of the conversation. He shook his head in defeat, toying with his fingers. You awaited his answer, tension rising in your stomach.

"I guess that's one way to put it," he finally sighed, meeting your gaze. His eyes were intense. After his admission, you finally found the correct adjective.

Lust.

Without a thought, you threw your body forward, putting your hands on the side of his face and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back with a sense of desperation. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging experimentally. A low groan met your ears as Spencer pulled away.

"Are you 100% sure about this? I don't think I can go back to how things used to be if we continue," Spencer admitted, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned against it and closed your eyes, slowly nodding.

"Yeah, Spencer. I want this, want you." He searched your expression for doubt or uncertainty, but only found conviction.

He nodded. "Okay. Okay, lie back," he motioned to the armrest behind you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Spencer noticed your questioning face and ran his fingers over your scalp, moving to speak into your ear. "So I can eat that pretty pussy of yours."

Your breath hitched, scrambling to lie back as he'd instructed. Spencer's hands made quick work of your bottoms, leaving you exposed. You brought a hand to your face and closed your legs in embarrassment.

"Hey, none of that. Let me see you," Spencer urged. You silently complied, opening your thighs and letting Spencer rest between them. He let out a soft moan at the sight of you already dripping.

"Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." Spencer complimented before running two fingers through your folds and collecting the fluid. He held them up, glistening in the dim light. He brought them up to your mouth. You didn't need any instructions, hesitantly opening up and sucking them in.

Spencer groaned at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his fingers, feeling his cock quickly come to life after having been half-hard all night. You sighed in satisfaction at the tent forming in his slacks.

"Couldn't think straight when I saw you try that icing. Looked so good sucking on your finger like that," Spencer revealed. So that's what the look had been for.

He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down, pushing both inside without further preparation. He pumped them a couple times, trying to find the right angle. A low moan fell from your lips when he found it. Spencer grinned, adding his other hand to rub at your clit.

"I think this is my new favourite look on you," he murmured. He moved his body back on the couch, bringing his face between your legs. He placed a string of small pecks on your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

You couldn't help but exclaim when his tongue finally licked an exploratory stripe between your folds. "Shit, Spencer!"

He ate you out like a man starved, gazing up through his lashes to watch your face contort in pleasure. Your hands searched for something to steady yourself, finally finding their resting place in his mop of gorgeous curls.

When he sucked harshly on your clit, your fingers clenched instantly, tugging at his hair harshly. "Fuck, Spencer, oh my God, don't stop."

You felt him moan against your clit, head tilting towards your grip. He continued licking and sucking every good spot while you realized he enjoyed having your fingers yanking at the messy strands.

"Hmm, just as sweet as that cake, if not more." The feeling of his moans against you was a foreign, albeit welcome, one. You quickly felt yourself get closer, tugging his hair and pulling him impossibly close. You needed more.

"Fuck, Spencer. If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," you let him know. Spencer had a devilish smile, increasing his speed. He added a finger back inside and curled it just right.

"Shit, just like that. Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged.

"Come for me," Spencer spoke, intent on having you finish on his face. You felt your toes curl and legs tense. Spencer's head was the only thing keeping them open.

"Spencer!" You moaned as you rode out your high on his tongue. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your legs felt numb as Spencer got up from between them.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he decided, helping you tug your shirt over your head.

"Well, what about you? You're fully dressed, Pretty Boy," you motioned towards his body. He shrugged and took off his vest before unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. You put your head on the armrest as you enjoyed the show. He smiled at your antics, humming Marvin Gaye's ' Let's Get It On' before carelessly throwing his shirt to the floor.

He continued humming the song as he undid his belt. You bit your lip, raising an eyebrow at him to continue. He shook his head as he chuckled, tugging his pants down. You smirked at the sight of the tent in his black boxers.

"You're not gonna take your socks off?" You looked towards his feet, clad in one hot pink and one neon green sock.

"Shut up, my feet get cold easily." Spencer pleaded. You held up your hands in mock defence.

You watched as his hands reached for the hem of his boxers. You stopped him, sitting up and hooking your fingers under the elastic. You looked up at him as you slowly tugged them down, freeing his cock. It was achingly hard, precum already collecting at the tip. He removed the boxers and softly pushed your back against the soft cushions.

He leaned over you, putting his hands beside your head. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. He grinned, and you felt love surge through your body at the admiration on his face.

"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?" He asked, placing kisses down your jawline.

"If you say you wished for me, I'm gonna have to get all the vegans out of your vicinity because that's so chees- Oh, fuck" Spencer cut your joke off by sucking on your neck, under your ear.

"Hmm, I guess I won't tell you, then," Spencer threatened, reaching behind your back to undo your bra. He took the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, throwing the bra in the same direction he'd thrown his shirt.

"No, tell me. What did you wish for," you urged. Spencer looked down, admiring your figure.

"This, you, under me, to be specific. Thought it would've made a very nice sight, and I was definitely right," he grinned, softly kneading your breast. He placed another kiss on your lips, and you were convinced you could get drunk on just that.

Spencer bent further down, finally bringing your hips together. He ground down, and you winced, still sensitive from your orgasm. It felt too good, though. To finally have him where you wanted him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his lips to your roughly, kissing him with desperation.

Spencer reciprocated, grinding his hips and moaning into your mouth. You pulled away to speak. "Please, Spence. Need you inside."

"Protection?" He questioned, moving his mouth back to your neck and sucking feverishly. You shook your head. "Don't care. Need you now."

"Good, because I don't have any in the house." Spencer groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed the tip inside, and you had to take a deep breath before he continued.

"Shit, Spence. So big. Fuck, you're really full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Hmm, there's more where that came from," Spencer joked, groaning when he bottomed out. He allowed you to readjust, not being used to having anything his size inside of you. You brought your hands to his shoulders, fingernails gradually digging into his skin when you nodded at him to move.

"Feel so good around me, f-fuck," Spencer moaned, closing his eyes. He slowly started moving. His hips snapped forwards, sending his cock deep inside of you.

"Oh, fuck, oh my God," you moaned deeply.

"Perfect fit," Spencer sighed. "Like you were made just for me." His pace picked up as desperation set in.

"J-just for you, Spence," you agreed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle made you throw your head back against the couch.

Spencer trailed a hand down to your clit, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. You wrapped your arms back around his neck and tugged him close, desperate to feel his lips again. You could understand how people got addicted if this is what it felt like all the time. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity with his mouth on yours.

"So pretty. Had to have you. You've been driving me crazy for months," Spencer's voice was strained with effort as he spoke.

"What do you think about me, doc? When you kept looking at me like that, kept finding subtle ways to touch me. I was going insane."

Spencer smiled as the movement of his hips sped up. Your moans got higher in pitch. His breathing became laboured, losing himself in the pleasure.

Moans of "So good," and "Fuck," joined your name in falling off his lips repeatedly. If there was any sound you could be met with in heaven, it would be Spencer moaning your name in pure bliss.

"O-Oh, Spencer, please," you begged, unsure what for. You just needed more of him. Needed him closer.

"Fuck, oh my, fuck-" Spencer sighed. His pace was frenzied, cock feeling so fucking good.

"I-I'm close- Spencer," you informed him, eyes squeezing shut. The hand on your clit increased it's speed. You couldn't believe you were so close to coming so soon after your first orgasm.

"Wanna cum inside you. Can I please cum inside you?" Spencer asked, groaning at the idea of you dripping with his cum.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck. Please, cum inside me. Wanna feel you, shit, Spencer!" You moaned.

"O-oh," Spencer's hips stuttered as he exclaimed your name in a loud moan. The sensation of his cock pulsing sent you over the edge yourself, joining him in his climax.

He thrust inside lazily a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out. You felt empty without him, grimacing at the loss of contact. Spencer leaned down and pecked your lips before getting off the couch and walking to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm washcloth and a towel. He helped you clean up, all while kissing you everywhere he deemed fit. He ushered you to go pee, laughing at your wobbly legs. You threw a pillow at him for that.

When you were both clean, he offered you a big, loose shirt to sleep in. You grinned at the implication. He hadn't even hesitated. Needn't even ask if you wanted to stay over.

You tucked yourself under his cold sheets. He soon joined you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you close. Spencer Reid, notoriously weird with any physical affection, seemed like an entirely different person once you allowed him to love you. And God, were you going to allow him to love you.

"You know, it's still my birthday in Alaska," Spencer spoke when you were almost asleep. You snorted. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night." You could hear the smile in his voice.

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joelslastofus · 3 months

Text

[SUMMARY: Joel acts like he doesn’t like you until he comes across your rapist.]

TW: MENTION OF RAPE. Angst

“What did he do?” His voice was low, eerie like, suddenly he looked angry as you stood still before him.

Ever since Tess had died Joel became more unbearable to deal with. The two of you had only known each other a couple months before she passed away but never got close to one another, if anything Joel acted like he didn’t like having you around. He barely held any conversations with you unless it involved a plan he needed you to be on the same page with him about. Silently he’d share food with you but that was pretty much as far as he’d go.

“Get up, we’re gonna keep moving today” Joel woke you up out of your sleep gathering his belongings as you sighed.

“I thought you said we’d stay here for two nights-“

“Plans changed. We’re leaving soon” you groaned as you got on your feet and began to pack. This journey to Marlene seemed a lot longer than you thought it would be.

“Are you sure Marlene even has what you want?” You asked with a sigh. He didn’t respond instead handing you your weapon so you could follow him out.

Walking with Joel through the woods your foot accidentally slid down a rock making you gasp loudly. Joel quickly turned with his knife ready to attack only to find you straightening your shirt.

“I slipped” he didn’t respond only looking irritated and turned back to continue walking. You didn’t understand why Joel always seemed so bothered by you, had he not promised Tess that he’d look after you, he wouldn’t have stuck around with you. Tess never shared to him the true reason why she wanted him to care for you but when you first met her you had confided in her the brutal things that you overcame. One of them being that you were held captive for a couple months by a group not far out, one of the men in their group being your rapist, you were always afraid to come across this man again. Little did Tess know, this very same man was running things alongside Marlene.

“Joel, have I done something to upset you at any point?” You asked trying to keep up with him.

“No” he responded without looking your way.

“So what’s your issue?”

“I don’t have a damn issue, now let’s keep moving” you gave up at that point not saying a word. Joel truly didn’t have a specific issue with you, he just chose to not allow himself to get close to anyone ever again, he had lost too much.

Finally making it to Marlene’s you followed behind Joel walking in. You had no idea whom Marlene was or anything about the place but being with Joel you just did as he said. Standing beside him a few feet away you were introduced to Marlene. She seemed like a woman who was strictly about business, she spoke to him of the car she had promised.

Of course, tomorrow it would be ready.

You didn’t speak during their conversation, not thinking much of anything until the door opened and a man walked in. Instantly your heart sunk, your stomach turned as the man stood by Marlene confidently before noticing you.

“This is my right hand man, he does what I say, when I say and can always be counted on” Marlene introduced the man beside her, you found yourself unable to speak. You knew who this man was, how could you not?

Edward….you’d never forget his name, one year ago this man made your life a living hell. Your throat felt like it was closing up, your heart racing-

“Look who it is” Edward grinned towards you making Marlene raise a brow at you. Joel turned to you as you looked down taking a deep breath.

“Small world” Marlene muttered but Joel noticed something off with your reaction.

“Anyways, Joel” Marlene got his attention explaining what would happen.

“Tomorrow before the evening I should have a car for you, for now you two can stay in a room I have prepped” Joel didn’t like the idea of staying an extra day but silently nodded and took the offer. Thankfully Edward and Marlene left the room before someone else led you to the room you would both stay in. Your heart felt like it would come out your chest but you couldn’t find it in you to speak. Joel walked ahead of you opening the door to the room. You stood by the door closing it behind you watching as he placed his backpack on the bed without looking back. Your body felt as if it would collapse any moment, you couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t be around Edward yet you knew you couldn’t say a thing.

That night Joel noticed you seemed a bit fidgety but he didn’t say a word. He lay back on his bed and watched as you double checked the locks on the door twice before laying down.

“You know we’re safe here right?” You looked up not noticing Joel had been watching you.

“Y-yeah” you nodded before turning over and facing the wall. That night you didn’t sleep, if anything you hoped Joel would sleep so he wouldn’t hear you crying in the middle of the night. Of course that didn’t work, at one point Joel opened his eyes thinking he was hearing something but he couldn’t make out what it was until he looked over and noticed you seemed like you were trembling. Quickly he sat up unsure of what to do, slowly he got up from the bed and noticed you were whimpering in your sleep. He didn’t know what the hell to do, he’d never seen you like this before but he knew damn well what it felt like. Delicately he placed his hand on your shoulder and tried to wake you.

“Hey” you continued to whimper but wouldn’t open your eyes. Joel cleared his throat and leaned in closer to you prepared for you to be startled.

“Hey wake up” he shook you a little harder making your eyes quickly open. You gasped unaware who was near you, unaware that you had even been dreaming, raising your hand ready to hit whoever it was Joel caught your wrist in mid air.

“Easy, honey”

You looked up at him confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep now here was Joel looking down at you with concern. Once he was sure that you knew it was him, he released your arm as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“It’s alright, just havin’ a bad dream is all” he looked at you for a moment curious to ask you what was it that made you so upset but didn’t say a word.

“I’m right here if you need me” he motioned towards the bed on the other side of the room. You quietly nodded and watched as he got back into bed. Turning away from him you could feel the embarrassment from what had just happened yet you were surpsied by how gentle he handled it. It was a new side you both had seen of each other.

The next day you did your best to stay clear from wherever Eduardo could be, and so you decided to stay in the room.

Just one more day of this, one day and you’d be gone. Joel explained to you that he would be going over something with Marlene leaving you by yourself. You assured him it was fine and sat on the bed reading a book you always carried around after making sure the door was locked. Sometime had passed when you heard the door unlock and you figured it was Joel. Laying comfortably facing the wall you flipped the page hearing the door close behind you.

“What happened with Marlene?” You asked when you felt the touch of a hand on your arm making you turn to see it was the very person you had been trying to avoid.

Edward

Quickly you jumped up, your back against the wall as he smirked at your reaction.

“It’s been a while” you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t believe he was right in front of you.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” he chuckled placing his hand on your thigh. If you could move any further away you would’ve, he could see how anxious he made you.

“Relax, sweetheart I’m not gonna do anything” he licked his bottom lip pushing his hand further up your thigh.

“I just wanted to say hi to an old friend”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek as you tried to turn away.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow, thought we could’ve had some fun” he laughed walking back out of the room and closed the door shut.

In shock you sat there with disgust, the simple touch or his hand on your thigh making you sick to your stomach.

You couldn’t do this, you didn’t care about a damn car no matter how badly you both needed it. Quickly you got up running to the door locking it shut once again afraid he would return.

Where the hell was Joel…all you wanted to do was leave.

After what felt like forever you finally heard the door begin to unlock, your heart jumping at the sound.

“Joel?” You called out worriedly to see his face as soon as the door opened.

“Yeah, it’s me” he walked past you not noticing the panic attack you were feeling in that moment.

You watched as he fold a paper and placed it in his backpack, a knot in your throat you struggled to speak.

“Joel” you finally were able to utter a word in a soft whisper. Going through his backpack he didn’t respond not having heard your voice. You struggled to speak again, stomach turning just at the thought of your rapist knowing where you were…the fact that he came to you when you were alone..

“Joel” you spoke a little louder where he was able to hear you.

“Yea” he responded as he zipped up his bag.

“Joel…I can’t stay here another night” you blurt out.

“What?” He asked confused with your statement still not looking back.

“We’re fine here, it’s just till the afternoon’” he assured you making your panic rise.

“No, I…Joel I can’t stay here” he noticed how your voice trembled and slowly turned to you. His eyebrows furrowed once he noticed the worry in your eyes.

“What’s the matter?” He stood straight fully facing you.

“Can we just go?” You didn’t want to give the reason, you didn’t want to speak of it.

“We’re getting the car tomorrow, its just one more night-“

“Joel please” you whispered taking a deep breath making him take a step closer. He stood silent, he could tell something had terrified you.

“Somethin’ happen while I was gone?” He asked making you quickly shake your head.

“No, no just please-“ you began to hyperventilate.

“I can’t, I can’t-“ you struggled to breathe when someone knocking on the door made you run into Joels arms. Confused he looked down at you slowly placing his hands on your back sensing the true horror you felt.

“Hey, hey it’s alright, it’s alright” he whispered feeling you shake in his arms. It was like the night before, all over again only this time something in your waking life was scaring the shit out of you. The sound of another knock making you grab onto his shirt.

“Give me a minute!” He called out feeling you hide your face against his chest.

“Hey” he whispered low looking down at you but before he could say another word Edwards voice heightened your fear.

“It’s me, Edward” your eyes widened as you silently began to shake your head.

“What is it, darlin’?” Your panic not allowing you to realize the softness Joel had in his voice with concern over you. The door suddenly opening sending you rushing behind Joel.

Edward appeared at the door.

“I was just making sure you guys had what you needed” a smile Joel didn’t trust appeared on his lips as he leaned over to get a peak at you. You felt Joel’s hand reach behind you holding you against him.

Edward could see the defensive look in Joel’s eyes and wondered if you had told him anything.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked testing what he would say.

“I got her” is all Joel responded with as Edward looked at him curiously. Not saying another word Edward took a step back giving Joel a nod before leaving the room. Joel waited until he disappeared from his site before giving your thigh a tap behind him.

“He’s gone” he assured you making you slowly peak over his shoulder to see the empty hallway that led to the room. Quickly you ran to the door shutting it closed and locking it with each lock it had.

“We need to get our stuff and get out of here now” you ran to grab your bag and his before he tried to stop you.

“Wait a minute, wait-“ he grabbed you by your arms stopping you before you grabbed anything else. Joel was struggling to understand what exactly had you so afraid of this man.

“Joel, we need to go-“

“Talk to me for a minute”

“No! There’s nothing to talk about, I am not staying here!” You screamed trying to break free from his hold.

“What the hell did he do to you?!”

“Nothing!” You tried to shake his hands off you once more but failed.

“We can’t leave without that car, we need that car if we wanna make it-“

“I don’t care! I’m not staying here with him!”

“He’s not gonna do anything to you, darlin’ I promise you that-“ you shook your head in frustration that he wasn’t understanding.

“He won’t lay a finger on you-“

“He already has!” You suddenly blurt out silencing Joel. An intense look in his eyes as he took a deep breath looking down at you.

“What did he do?” His voice was low, eerie like, suddenly he looked angry as you stood still before him.

“It was long ago” you whispered.

“Doesn’t matter” he quickly responded.

“I had told Tess, I never thought I would see him again….it was a year ago…I had nowhere to go and he said he would help me. He’s the man who raped me.” you looked down as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Did he come in here while I was gone?” He leaned in closer. You looked up and hesitantly nodded when he abruptly walked out past you charging down the hall.

“Joel!” You called out for him trying to keep up but all Joel could see was red.

“What are you doing?!” You yelled as he kicked the door open where Marlene and Edward both were. Without warning he yanked up Edward by his collar throwing him against the wall as Marlene stood up.

“Joel what the hell are you doing?”

“Stay out of this” he looked at her with a look you had never seen and grabbed Edward once again as he struggled to get on his feet.

“Whatever she said she’s a lying bitch!” He tried to poorly defend himself causing Joel to punch him repeatedly. In shock you stood in the doorway watching it all play out, Joel had lost complete control until Edward was a bloody mess.

“Oh my god-“ you whispered.

Joel stood up and walked towards Marlene who backed up not knowing what he would do.

“Give me the fucking keys” he spoke out of breath. Not even trying to fight him she opened the drawer and tossed him the car keys before he looked back at Eduardo.

“Should be more careful of who you have workin’ for ya. Got a rapist on your hands” Joel walked out of the room without looking at you in the eye, taking your hand he led you out.

In disbelief you walked alongside him trying to keep up, at one point looking behind you.

He still wouldn’t say a word.

Joel opened the car door for you and quickly got in the drivers seat before driving off.

Speeding down the road he didn’t take his eyes off it before abruptly pulling over. You could see him though the corner of your eye turning his body fully toward you, you didn’t know what to expect.

“You don’t ever keep somethin’ like that from me again. We clear?” You nodded in silence looking down at your lap.

“We would’ve never stayed there for even one night had I know what he done to you. You ever feel unsafe again I need ya to tell me and you tell me right away”

“Yes Joel” you whispered.

Turning back towads the road he pulled off feeling he came off kind of harsh towards you which wasn’t what he wanted. Unexpectedly you felt him place his hand on your lap bringing you a sense of calmness. He slowly entangled his fingers with yours without looking your way, you had no idea what this meant but one thing was for sure..

Joel made you feel safe.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel miller fan fic #tlou fanfiction

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zeltqz · 8 months

Text

— ✭ — 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 — ✭ —

-> SUMMARY. satoru's smart in many things, but when it comes to dating and relationships, he's lacking that intellect. somehow he expects you to always be there for him to patch him up.

-> pairing : gojo!satoru x nurse!reader

-> length: 5.7k

-> tags. nsfw+18 content, injuries (mentions of bruises, cuts and scratches), implied beef with suguru (i shall not be elaborating further lol), medical practices; stitches etc, gojo is fucking annoying lol, love him though, reader is going to grow grey hairs bc of him, implied fwb relationship, satoru ghosts reader for five months (not his proudest moment but plz giv him a chance), marks during sex, blood mentions, unsafe sex, creampie, nicknames

-> a/n: im currently having a gojo brain rot. its not funny and this is a cry for help. ps i have no clue how to do any medical practices so if you notice some things are off just...shh.... 🤫

Satoru strolled through the clinic doors, his shirt rumpled and stained with remnants of blood. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of an older woman clutching her purse and just opposite her, a mother grabbed her kids closer towards her and away from him.

Ignoring them was easy, after all he was here for one thing and one thing only. He approached the front desk and the nurse behind the counter was tapping at her keyboard, head tilted towards her shoulder to balance her phone.

“Ah okay, gotcha. Your appointment is scheduled for next Tuesday. See you next week sir!” she said enthusiastically before hanging up and looking up at Satoru. “Hi, how can I help you toda—”

Her eyes widened as she met his gaze. Satoru rested his elbows on the surface and smiled back at her.

“Hey! Is (Name) working tonight?” He didn’t even get the question out fully before craning his neck to peek past the doors reserved for the nurses.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’ll be mad if she answered truthfully. It was conflicting for her. She’s fully aware of your brief relationship with Satoru. Hell, all the nurses were somewhat intrigued and aware to an extent. The extent being you refused to tell them any personal details of the matter. The only things they knew was when you’d suddenly get a text on your phone and the next five minutes you were leaving early, you were with Satoru.

But that was months ago.

His frequent visits and texts started declining over the last few months and by the lack of Satoru written all over your face and phone, they all just assumed you stopped seeing each other.

Satoru examined her hesitation and came to a conclusion. “Ah. She is, isn’t she? So, where is she? The back?” He tried to sneak another look past the small vertical window allocated on the wooden door to get a glimpse of your hair or anything before the nurse stood up.

She wasn’t tall by any means, but with the way Satoru was hunched, it lowered his magnificent height to something more manageable and she was able to block his view with her head. “You’re not allowed to look inside there.”

“Then stop wasting my time and tell me if she’s here.” His eyes flashed momentarily as he started to get pissed and it was enough for her knees to buckle and give way, dropping her successfully back onto her seat.

“S—she’s not—”

Before she could even finish her lie, the sound of a door opening from down the hallway caught everyone’s attention. An elderly lady walked out of the room, holding a walking stick and a grateful smile on her face. Once she got a reasonable distance out of the room, she turned around to face you and bowed, thanking you for the help.

You held onto her and helped her down the hallway a bit before letting go and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a satisfied smile on your lips as you watched her walk at a slow but steady pace. Her hand stopped trembling as much against the stick and you were just happy she was slowly improving.

It wasn’t until you looked past the elderly woman’s head did you notice Satoru himself, hunched over the reception. Your fellow nurse looked at you guilty before sighing.

Satoru stood up straight once he met your eye.

“Oh hell no,” you muttered under your breath and quickly darted back inside the room.

It’s unfortunate you’re messing with Satoru Gojo of all people because he was faster than you and crossed the distance in the hallway before you managed to lock the door behind you.

You did however, manage to get it shut and used it to your advantage and pressed your back against it.

Satoru sighed, the sound smooth and honeyed, knocking gently on the door’s window with his knuckles. “Lemme in. I’m injured, you know?”

You couldn’t help but feel flattered that he was only acting with you, pretending to give you the choice of helping him or not because you both knew he could easily have this door open in seconds and you’d probably be flying across the room if he had his way.

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Gojo. Please leave and make an appointment. If you need an impromptu surgery, please find a hospital. Not a clinic.”

“But you’re the best nurse,” he said, pouting.

You rolled your eyes. Yeah right. If anything they were all better than you. You only started working here recently, having a few months experience compared to years. The first time you gave him stitches, you had pierced him full of holes so much that he was even surprised he had a drop of blood left inside him, but he kept healing himself so you barely noticed the damages.

Another thing about Satoru.

He doesn’t actually get injuried. His injuries are nothing but an illusion he creates to get close to you. All the times he came in battered and bruised, nothing was real and if they were, they didn’t hurt one bit. But it didn’t help that he was such a good, charming actor that you couldn’t help but fall for his little game every time.

“I’m not the best nurse, Gojo. Now for the second time, if you need treatment, go to a hospital or make an appointment.”

“Gojo?” he questioned, sounding utterly confused. At first, he thought the sudden use of his last name was just a fluke on your end. But twice in a row? Nah, he’ll wait to see if you use it one more time before making a judgement.

“Yes. Isn’t that your name? Now are you going to a hospital or not Gojo? Us nurses have actual patients to attend t—”

The door was pushed open easily and he walked inside without a care in the world as you fought back the childish urge inside you to not stomp your feet on the floor and throw a tantrum.

Satoru stood tall over you and it wasn’t until the ceiling light hit his face that you finally noticed the scratches on his face and cut on his lip. They weren’t hospital level serious but you couldn’t help but feel worried at the sight of seeing him hurt.

“What the hell happened to you?” There was no malice in the question, your voice filled with nothing but concern.

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Got into a bit of trouble,” he said with a chuckle, scratching his messy hair.

You scowled and shook your head before holding his face in your hands to examine the damages. “This looks…managable.” You pull away after close examination and begin removing your gloves. “The nurse in room 405 upstairs can help with that cut.”

You turned around to throw the gloves in the bin and wished you saw the look on Satoru’s face as his smile fell at your words.

“That’s nice and all but I was hoping you’d help me with it. You know? For old times sake, yeah?”

“Definitely not .”

“Why no—”

You turned around and poked him in his chest, hard, unaware of the big bruise under his shirt.

“You ignored me for weeks! Not even weeks actually. Months! And now you think you can just waltz in and take advantage of my services? You’re so—” You stopped yourself when you felt yourself getting angrier and took a deep breath, taking a few steps backwards create some distance between you and Satoru.

Inside, you hated to admit you actually liked Satoru and grew fond of him. You weren’t one to usually let people into your hearts but he was an exception, and he just vanished.

The first week was okay, you didn’t mind. After all the two of you were spending way too much time together on a daily basis so maybe he just needed some space?

The second week, you were also…kind of okay with it? It’s a dramatic change to go from seeing and talking to someone everyday to suddenly have two weeks no contact. It was lonely but you just chalked it up to him being busy.

By a month it was just getting ridiculous at that point. Third month? You were pissed and swore up and down if you saw him around in public you’d claw his face out with your scalpels.

Fifth month you had convinced yourself you had moved on. You blocked his number on everything and made sure he had no ways of contacting you ever, despite the fact you knew deep down you missed his touch, his kisses, his words, his voice, his dic—

“I’m sorry about that. I’m a busy man, you know?”

“It’s always ‘you know this’, ‘you know that’. Fuck —” You dug the heels of your palms in your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I don’t know anything because you can’t communicate with me! You were too busy? Busy?! Too busy that you couldn’t even open your phone and I don’t know, call me?! Text me?! I think even an email at that point would’ve made me satisfied. Not just radio silence Satoru .”

This time when you said his first name, it was filled with such emotion behind it. He could feel it from where he stood. You tried to keep your face as casual as possible but the eventual twitch of your bottom lip gave you away.

“I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He took a step forward and tested his luck. You didn’t push him away or tell him to leave you alone, so he engulfed his arms around you, wrapping you into his chest.

You refused to hug him back, standing eerily still as your face was suffocated between his chest. The scent of him was so strong that it almost made you tear up. Five months. Five fucking months of no Satoru was enough to drive you mad. You were so touch starved that you physically had to strain your arms in order to keep them at your side and stop them from wrapping around his waist.

“I’m so sorry baby. I mean that. I didn’t mean for things to get this far,” he murmured into your hair, holding you so softly almost as if you’re delicate. “But I’m here now, okay. Always.”

He was met with silence.

“Baby?” His heart skips thrice in his chest when he realises your hand rose to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric for dear life as you tried to fight back tears.

Crying in front of people wasn’t something you normally did, almost hiding it late at night in the comfort of under your bedsheets. The tears were always so easy to flow freely during those times, but now it felt like your eyes were hot and stinging and you couldn’t control them anymore.

With his hand on the back of your neck, he slowly pulled your face away from his chest and lifted your chin to look up at him.

You were a silent crier thank god; the mere thought of you ugly sobbing and sniffing in front of Satoru made you want to end it all. He pouted and wiped your eyes with his sleeve.

“Wow, I really had an impact on you didn’t I? Interesting,” he hummed.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck you.” You pulled away first and stomped over to grab some tissues. “I’ll wipe my damn face. I don’t need you.”

“You do need me though.” He pointed to the wet patch on his white shirt. “Clear proof!”

Now that your eyes are dry enough to see clearly again, your eyes wandered around the room, looking for something you could throw at Satoru’s head to knock his brain back into place. Your hands twitched into fists as you tried to control yourself again.

Satoru noticed. “You know I knew you’d be mad at me which is why I got myself all beat up so you could poke needles into my skin.” Then, he sighed, long and dramatically. “And people say I’m not thoughtful.”

“You’re not thoughtful. You’re an idiot with no common sense at all.”

“How else was I supposed to see you again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe call me?” You paused, remembering you blocked him. “You could’ve just come and seen me. You know, without getting yourself all battered? You can never think like a normal human I swear to God.”

That was what you loved about him though, his carelessness and recklessness. It only added to the excitement you felt when you were with him and the fact you knew whatever he did there’d be no consequences because he was the strongest and rules don’t even apply to him.

But Satoru doesn’t need to know all that.

Satoru scrunched his nose at your idea and shook his head. “Ehhhh I dunno. Too boring. This,” he alternated pointing his finger between the both of you, “is much better though.”

You rolled your eyes. “Get on the bed before I change my mind.”

“Yes ma’am!” He strolled over towards the patient bed and sat down, kicking his legs as he stripped off his shirt. By the time you turned around to face him with the supplies you needed, you almost dropped them all.

There was a huge bruise on his chest followed by more cuts and scratches running all down his chest.

“Gojo! Who the fuck did you fight?!” Your mouth dropped open at the sight, pure concern written all over your features.

His eyebrows furrowed a little. “Satoru*,” he corrects, looking salty. When you didn’t waver, waiting for a response, he sighed again. “It doesn’t really matter who I fought. Just come on, patch me up,” he ordered, smiling boldly at you.

“Don’t tell me what to do. Answer the question Go—Satoru.”

He smiled triumphantly at your words. “Suguru.”

It was almost amusing to him to watch you file the name and process it. It definitely sounded familiar, but you spent the last five months erasing everything Satoru related from your mind, so it took a little longer than usual to remember. But eventually you remembered who Suguru was and gasped.

“Suguru?! What—why?!”

He shrugged and you could tell he really didn’t want to talk about it. “He just…did somethings that pissed me off so we fought.” He looked unusually serious for a moment and you could tell something deeper than that happened, but you weren’t here to be his therapist. So you didn’t pry.

“Okay. Well…”

He waved your sentence off flippantly. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Seriously. Move on and fix me.”

“You’re not in the position to have an attitude right now Satoru. I can leave right now and have another nurse here to do this for you.”

That shut him up for a bit and you smiled in triumph that he was able to shut up for once.

His eyes were on you the entire time. You grabbed a cotton ball and applied alcohol to it, dabbing away at the cuts gently before beginning to stitch him up. He winced at the sting of the needle going in and you looked up at him, concerned.

“It hurts?”

“Nah. Just uncomfortable. Keep going,” he responded, giving you the okay.

With his approval, you continued with his stitches and everything was going just fine. You didn’t feel as overwhelmed with the close proximity as much as you thought you would’ve. But the second you finished up with his chest and moved onto his face, you realised you might not be able to do this.

His eyes were trained on your face the entire time and they were so intense to look at. He grinned when he noticed you pause for a moment, as if trying to keep all your focus away from his distracting stare and you wanted to stuff the ball of cotton into his mouth to wipe his smug smile off his face.

The bed was near the end of the room, meaning the light didn’t hit it as well as it should’ve, making it harder to see. So you had no other choice but hold his face up by his chin and continue dabbing alcohol on his cuts. You could see his eyes dart all over your face, from your nose, mouth, eyes, and everything you shifted backwards to grab something, those eyes of his followed.

His eyes lingered on your lips the longest, and in the silence of the room you swore the sound of your heart beating was loud enough for him to hear.

“Stop staring at me,” you said, pausing your movements.

“You nervous?”

“No. It’s just distracting.” You wiped some dried blood from his cheeks with a wet wipe.

“Not a bad thing to be distracted, Doc.”

“It is in my profession, Satoru.”

Standing this close to Satoru had its pros and cons. On your end, it was easier and quicker to fix him up being this close and you were able to see and hold his pretty face. But he was also a major distraction, making your first point render useless as you couldn’t get the job done regardless if he kept looking at you like that.

For Satoru though, you standing this close to him was only benefiting him. He could see every inch of your face this close and if he really wanted to, could trail his hands down the backs of your thighs and onto your hips. If he really wanted to though.

“Okay. I see your point,” he hummed. “Distractions aren’t necessarily a good thing. But…”

“No buts! Fuck, you’re so annoying.” You pulled away to grip at your hair, wondering if you were truly frustrated enough to rip your hair out. You’ll probably regret it in the morning so you refrain from the thought.

“Would you think it’d be annoying if I kissed you right now?”

“Yes,” you responded back without waiting a beat. “Don’t even think about it.” You went back to work, tilting his head tot he side to see if there’s anymore damage to assess.

He took advantage of your focused state to lean in closer. “You sure?” His nose brushed yours and you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away.

You cleared your throat and jerked your head over to the camera on the ceiling near the end of the room. Satoru looked away from you for a moment to look at it.

“Nice try though,” you said with a smirk. There was no more damage to his face, he was all stitched up and his cuts were cleaned. “All done. You can go home now.”

You stepped away from him and let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. It was so intense being that close to him, your lungs actually felt peace the moment you were away.

“Alright. Let’s go.” He stood up, shrugging his shirt back on.

You turned around and looked at him in confusion. “Let’s go? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You gotta walk me to my car. What if I fall and seriously injure myself?” He put his finger on his chin, deeply thoughtful.

Your face deadpanned. “If you were good enough to drive here, then you can walk yourself to your car. I’m not an escort.”

“What time do you get off?” he asked, ignoring your previous sentence.

“I dunno. Maybe midnight? Something around that.”

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Almost eleven p.m. “Alright. I’ll wait for you.”

“What?! No.” You rubbed your forehead in annoyance. This dude was giving you a migraine. “Please just go home. I have my own way home already.”

“What. The bus?”

You hated his tone. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Why go on that thing when you could drive with me? You used to love my car you know?”

The fact that he was throwing what you used to be in your face like he wasn’t the one to ruin it made you angry. “And how many months ago was that, Satoru? I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah yeah.” He laced his hands behind his head and began to walk out. “We’ll see.” The door closed behind him and you stood in the room for a moment wondering if he actually left.

It felt too good to be true. But after two minutes, you went out into the hallway and saw he was nowhere to be seen. With that in mind, you were able to finish working and leave on time, briefly ignoring your fellow nurses questions about what Satoru wanted.

By the time you exited the clinic, changed out of your nurse scrubs and back in your casual attire, you were on your way to the bus stop down the street when you saw the only car left in the parking lot was still there.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hated how you could see Satoru’s white hair in the drivers seat, his head hung low as he looked at his phone. He was distracted and this was your chance to make an escape for the bus stop without him noticing.

You managed to make it out of the car park and on the way to the bus stop in peace, earbuds in your ears with music playing softly. But that wasn’t enough to stop the loud honk of a car beside you. He was driving beside you at a slow pace with the passenger side of the door wide open.

So careless.

He had it wide open as if he knew you’d get in.

So conceited.

Part of you wondered if you made a run for it, would he speed up and eventually have the door hit a pole? The thought of that made you laugh but you came to a stop and looked at him.

“Your door is open.” You stared blankly at him, stating the obvious.

He acted surprised and gasped as if the revelation shocked him. “Really? Wow. Maybe you should get in so I can close it?”

You looked at the bus stop which was only down the road. It’ll take 45 seconds max to reach it. But you could practically feel the warmth radiating from the inside of his car and fell to temptation.

He grinned wide as you stripped your bag off your shoulders and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. “Atta girl,” he commented before speeding off.

It took everything in you to not glance over at him the entire ride. Something itching deep inside you that made you just want to peek at him once, but you knew he’d never shut up if he caught your attempts. He’d probably go on a long ramble about how he’s not surprised you couldn’t get enough of his pretty face and the thought made you want to gouge your eyes out.

Instead, you decided to peek out the window and try get a glimpse from his reflection. The car was speeding past so many streetlights at once making it somewhat easier to grab a solid reflection.

Staring at Satoru driving was one of your favourite things back then. He always looked so calm, one of those rare moments when his face wasn’t fixed in a smirk. His face was relaxed and he’d keep his pure attention on nothing but the road. Of course that made you determined to see what you could do to break that concentration, like holding his spare hand that wasn’t on the wheel, playing with his fingers and rings, or even (in the severe cases) going down on him just to hear him groan whilst struggling to maintain that concentration.

You knew deep down Satoru would never let the car crash, so it allowed the both of you to be reckless. A smile fixed on your face as you remembered those moments and before you knew it, the car came to a stop.

Outside his house.

“And we’re here!” He stopped the car engine but kept the lights on, allowing him to look at you better and man, your reaction was worth it.

“Huh? This isn’t my house Satoru.”

“It’s not?” He looked around before gasping. “Oops. Guess you’ll have to stay the night then.”

Ten seconds passed where you both just stared at each other, not speaking, just the sound of the crickets outside adding to the awkward silence.

“I’m walking home.” You grabbed your bag and made a move to exit the car before he locked the doors. You struggled with the door handle for a second before glaring at him. “Open it.”

He sighed, loud and bratty; practically throwing his head back against the headrest. “Can’t you see I’m trying here? What else do you want me to do man?”

“Maybe leave me alone, Satoru. It’s been five months. You clearly wanted nothing to do with me, now I’m returning the favour.”

“That’s not it though. Just…fuck. Please? Give me a chance.”

You shifted in your seat until you were sitting down again, looking dead straight at your hand in your lap as you began thinking. “...why now Satoru? Why today of all days? Why five months later, when I already let everything out of my system. Why did you choose to come back now when you had so many chances?”

He shifted forward, resting an arm on the steering wheel and resting his forehead against it. He shrugged.

“Honestly I don’t know. I just…didn’t think things through I guess until it was too late. At first, I was scared. I was spending too much time with you and it wasn’t like me. The anxious feeling I felt was because I was experiencing these new feelings because of you. So as a deflection, I stupidly convinced myself that you were busy, being a nurse and all and that was enough conviction I needed to convince myself to stop texting you, waiting for you to make the first move. You never did though, so I assumed you genuinely were busy. So I waited. And waited. And waited…but you never texted back. Then the fear I was feeling initially was just me coming to terms to the fact that…I liked you. But by the time it took me to realise, I found out I was blocked.”

He sighed again and sat back upright, resting his head against the headrest again and looked up at the car ceiling. “I deserved that block though. It only hit me that I actually ghosted you five months later. And I am sorry for that.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at you, deadly serious. “But it never would’ve escalated this far if you just texted me first.”

“There’s no way you’re blaming this on me right now.”

“I’m not. I just—fuck.” He pulled at his hair and sighed. “You’re right I’m sorry.” He flopped his head back against the car and reached his hand out over towards you.

You hesitantly grabbed onto it and he rubbed his thumb along your skin, holding your hand tight. “You forgive me yet?” He raised your hand to his lips and pressed kisses against your knuckles, giving you goosebumps.

You sat upright and leaned closer towards him, holding the side of his face in your palm before planting a kiss on his lips. It was short and to the point before you pulled away. “That answer your question?”

He looked at you for a moment before you closing the distance again, alternating between slow, sensual kisses and sucking your lower lip. You scramble out of your seat and he’s eager to lift you up and plop you down on his lap.

Your hands laced between his hair as you pressed your entire body against him. His hands on your body caressed every inch of skin he could grasp, digging his nails into your waist as your tongue invaded his mouth. He winced when you went to undo his buttons and you pulled away, remembering his injuries.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry ‘Toru.”

He chuckled. “Nah, it’s not a problem.” He couldn’t help himself and pecked your lips again to wash away your concern. “In fact wait.” He unlocked the car doors and told you to get out. He grabbed your things for you and held onto your hand, leading you into his house.

Your bag, his things ended up scattered on his living room floor as he carried you up to his bedroom. You were laid flat on his comfy bed, head rested against his soft pillows as he hovered on top of you, keeping a little gap between both your chests to avoid further pains.

You graciously accepted him with open legs, locking them around his waist as he kissed you as passionately as he could. His fingers roamed all over your skin, peeling your clothes away and examining your body, naked and vulnerable beneath him.

The two of you barely spoke the whole time, too busy focusing all your energy into just enjoying the moment, the feeling of your lips against each others, the slide of your hands down his back, the caress of his hands along your waist.

His lips attached to your neck like a leech, sucking until the blood rushed to the surface as his fingers went rampant between your legs, fucking in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb circling your clit.

Your moans were heaven to his ears. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes cross when he sinks into your pussy. The image stayed in his mind as he quickly pulled his fingers out and switched your positions. He laid flat on his back and adjusted you on his lap.

You reached behind yourself to grab at his hard cock and pumped it a few times before shifting it underneath you. His cock slipped into you easily but the rest was hard, sinking down was painful, his cock carving its way into your pussy.

You had an iron grip on his arm as he held your hips, your nails digging and leaving marks into his flesh. It hurt but it hurt so good. Satoru rolled his hips up to help you sink down, each roll pushing his cock further inside. It took longer than it should’ve for him to bottom out, but the second he did, you collapsed on his chest.

He winced again but the pain was worth it. Your arms wound around his neck and he began rocking you back and forth against his cock.

“That feel good?” he questioned, his voice right beside your ear sending tingles down your spine.

“Mhm-mhm.” You bit your lip hard before sitting upright, resting your arms against the headboard for balance as you created your own rhythm. His chest was too injured for you to hold onto it, so the headboard was the next best bet.

He hissed when you started bouncing like your life depended on it, his grip on your hips and waist becoming even tighter. “Fuck— don’t stop,” he gritted out, low grunts spilling from his lips.

His breathing got heavier as you sped up, grinding your body above him in any direction you could, desperate to feel more of him inside you. He moaned loudly in your ear and the next thing you knew, your world was being flipped.

Injuries aside, that didn’t stop Satoru from flipping you onto your back, his cock still nestled inside you and starting off a brutal pace, slamming his hips against yours. The bed kept smacking against the wall with each thrust. His hands had a death like grip on your hips, keeping you pinned down to make sure you take everything he’s giving you.

Your nails dug painfully into his shoulder blades, not able to do anything but just scream litanies of curses and his name as you felt yourself getting closer.

“C’mon, please, fuck me Satoru—I’m ah—’m so close ‘Toru please,” you begged, bringing him down for another kiss. You bit at his lip before sucking the length of his tongue, a move that you remember drove him crazy.

“Scratch me,” he whispers against your lips, removing his hands from your hips to rest beside your head, keeping him upright. “Mark me baby I know you can do it.”

Your hands reach towards his back and drag your nails along his flesh. It stung so bad but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it, feel every emotion pent up inside you for months and left as a red line on his back. He wanted it to scar, wanted it to be a reminder whenever he looked in the mirror that you left that on him. That you were his now.

The thought had him speeding up, plowing your body into the matress; your nails kept scratching, some lines even drawing blood with how deep you scratched. You reached a hand up to his hair and tugged and he lost it.

His hips stuttered inside you and his cock began to leak before he could even process what was going on. He didn’t stop steadily fucking into you as you came on his cock, as his cum began to fill your insides.

He thrusted one more final time before his arms gave out, collapsing on top of you. His weight was more than you could bear, but that didn’t stop you from holding him as tight as you could. Your fingers ran through his hair, scratching lightly as his undercut as he took the time to catch his breath.

A minute later he was shifting off you, rolling onto the spot beside you before wincing again, the scratching on his back far too sensitive.

You told him to sit up and then gasped when you witnessed how much damage you did. “Oh my god.”

“What? What?”

You pointed over to the mirror inside his bathroom and he slid off the bed and walked towards it, examining the marks on his back. You followed shortly after, standing behind him and watching as he kept wincing when he tried to touch it.

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t—I need to cut my nails.”

He shook his head and rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you and smiling. “It’s nothing a nurse can’t handle.” He winked at before pecking your lips.

A few hours ago, the idea of patching Satoru up was enough to leave you grumpy for a day, but now it fills you with excitement.

You can’t wait.

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