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#I forgot I used to be here every day and look at pictures
gojonanami · 1 hour
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,
✧ wc: 8,271
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“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,” 
Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines. 
And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk. 
Just as they were now. 
“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,” 
“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,” 
Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers. 
And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost. 
He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice. 
“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded. 
“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink. 
“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“ 
“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath. 
One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar. 
He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,” 
You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box,  “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does. 
“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,” 
A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,” 
He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?” 
“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets. 
“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,” 
You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out. 
And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did. 
No matter how hard you try.
“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,” 
And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it. 
“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips. 
“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“ 
“Gojo—“ 
“Satoru,” he corrects you. 
You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.
“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?” 
“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit. 
“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves. 
“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?” 
“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?” 
And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation. 
“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“ 
He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“ 
“You asked me to hang out—“ 
“And we kissed—“ 
“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,” 
“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more. 
“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach. 
“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?” 
“Gojo—“ 
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“ 
“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“ 
“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle. 
“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“ 
“It doesn’t have to be,” 
“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home,  “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks. 
“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist. 
Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh. 
You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart. 
“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“ 
“Sweetheart-“ and you snap. 
“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,” 
“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch. 
Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say. 
“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,” 
“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“ 
“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?” 
“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go. 
“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t). 
“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now. 
“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?” 
“You’re impossible—“ 
“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,” 
You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek. 
“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?” 
“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“ 
“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead. 
“Why weren’t you?” 
And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date. 
“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“ 
And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”
“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“ 
“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”
Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him. 
His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse. 
“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“ 
“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?” 
“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“ 
And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles. 
“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.
And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“ 
“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,” 
And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?” 
Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,” 
“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door. 
And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment. 
“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door. 
“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“ 
“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,” 
“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand. 
“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,” 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips. 
“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,” 
“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss. 
You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place. 
“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 
“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?” 
“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown. 
“I know I’ve made mistakes—“ 
You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,” 
He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“ 
You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,” 
“I—“ 
“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru” 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,” 
Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“ 
“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,” 
You stare at him, “What do you mean?” 
He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,” 
“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head. 
“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,” 
“Why?”
“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“  
“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat. 
He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“ 
“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,” 
“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin. 
“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,” 
“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him. 
And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?” 
“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you. 
Your lips curl, “Good boy.” 
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“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,” 
You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand. 
“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,” 
“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?” 
And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more. 
“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it  — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself. 
And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“ 
“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue. 
“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,” 
“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length. 
“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you. 
And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off. 
Fuck. 
With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat. 
“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips. 
“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps. 
You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean. 
“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“ 
“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,” 
The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige. 
His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders. 
“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?” 
He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,” 
“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,” 
“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?” 
And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“ 
“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,” 
“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs. 
“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily. 
Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place. 
“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,” 
“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly. 
You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices. 
“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?” 
“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh. 
“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,” 
“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“ 
He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t. 
“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper. 
A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then, 
“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?” 
“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“ 
He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“ 
“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart. 
“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you. 
“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets. 
And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?” 
He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,” 
His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” 
And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door. 
Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?” 
Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night. 
“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you. 
“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling. 
“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.  
Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo. 
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Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on. 
He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin. 
You had turned him down last night when he asked, 
“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,” 
“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again. 
And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?
He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?” 
Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“ 
“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,” 
Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“ 
“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body. 
A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.” 
And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes,  “who was it?” 
He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,” 
“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?” 
“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?” 
“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.” 
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✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)
✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot
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steddieas-shegoes · 28 minutes
Text
not so different
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’
rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson
🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦
Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.
But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.
He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.
“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.
He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.
Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.
“Um, no.”
“What about your mama?”
“She’s with my dad.”
“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.
Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.
“Where’s your dad?”
“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.
“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.
“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”
“No. I think he forgot.”
“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”
“He doesn’t even know me.”
“You can come meet him!”
The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.
“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.
“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”
Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.
“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”
“His parents didn’t come.”
“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”
“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.
“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”
Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.
“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.
🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦
Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.
Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.
“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.
Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.
Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.
“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.
“You can walk with me.”
Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.
“Eddie!”
“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.
“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.
“Gonna hold you to that.”
“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”
Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”
“A bit.”
“So no.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”
“C’mere.”
“Honey, you’re hurt-“
“Come here.”
Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.
“Think I’ll graduate?”
Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”
“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”
Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.
These were relieved tears, happy tears.
“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”
“Love you, though.”
“Love you so much.”
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blixalesbian · 2 years
Text
i have nothing to say except that having an ed sucks until it doesn't because now I control sooo much of my life it's fun actually. meet me in 4 months if I fuck up my intake again or in 7 months if I manage to do everything correctly !
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inkskinned · 1 year
Text
"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
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luveline · 8 days
Note
Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊
—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k
Someone will love me one day.
Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.
He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’
One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.
Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.
He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.
Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.
He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.
Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.
Spencer stops in defeat.
Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.
He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.
He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.
“Hi.”
Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.
“Is that for the library?”
He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”
“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”
The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.
“Yes!” the little girl insists.
“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”
The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.
Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.
You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.
You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.
Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”
You take a half step back.
Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”
Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”
His shoulders sag with a deep breath.
You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.
Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.
“It’s you,” he says.
You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”
He smiles softly. “I think so.”
“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”
“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.
“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.
“I knew you would be.”
You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.
“Do you like books?” he asks.
You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.
His entire arm is alive with tingles.
“Do you read much?” you ask.
Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.
“Hi,” the little girl says.
Spencer laughs. “Hi.”
“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.
Spencer looks to you for guidance.
“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.
“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.
Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.
You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.
You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.
Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.
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baptismbaby · 8 months
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† GOD, FORGIVE ME
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mean!ellie williams x innocent!reader a/n: i also posted this on my ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: reader is an extremely innocent christian girl, blaspheming, corruption, drug dealer!ellie, petnames (pup is used in case anyone doesn't like that), fingering (r! receiving), belittling, toxic!ellie, oral (r!receiving), virgin!reader
creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the picture of ellie.
wc: 5.2k<3 part two here
You breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the gates of Jackson on your horse. You had just finished up patrol and was ready to collapse in your bed. You looked over at Dina and smiled. “Man, I’m happy to be home.”
“Me too,” Dina agreed with a laugh. “Things got too intense out there.”
“Yeah, luckily I was there to save your life.”
Dina scoffed. “Oh, shut up. I had it but of course, you had to show off.”
You hopped off your horse and led it to the stables, passing it off to the man on duty. “Here she is,” you said. “Get your rest, Ginger!”
Dina said goodbye to Japan, running to catch up with you. “Hey, I forgot to mention but Jesse said he wanted to throw a party tonight. It’ll be small, not too many people at all.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A party? Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Jesse and his friends got some liquor and cups from Seth. Perfect timing too since everyone has the weekend off.”
“Dina,” you began. But before you could continue, Dina cut you off.
“I’m not saying you have to drink with us! I know you’re a good little Christian girl,” she joked.
You frowned. “Hey, that’s not nice.”
“Please come,” she begged. “It wouldn’t be fun without you.”
“What exactly do I bring to the table? It’s not like I can do anything,” you said. 
Dina stepped in front of you and placed her hands on your arms to stop you. “Listen, just please come and stay for at least half an hour. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you or try to convince you to stay. I wanna have a good time with my friends and you’re one of my favorites. Please don’t let me suffer with all of Jesse’s friends. They’re… too male, almost.”
You sighed in defeat. “Ugh, fine! I’ll go if you really want me to.”
Dina clapped her hands in excitement. “Good! Come, I have some clothes you can borrow that’ll look real nice on you.”
You groaned as Dina pulled you by your hand, taking you to her place. She couldn’t contain how happy she felt. You never came to parties with her. They were rare and usually happened once every couple of months. Usually, you wouldn’t give in to Dina’s begging. You would just go home, curl up with a book and fall asleep before the party even began. Dina would come over the next day to tell you all the “sinful” things that went on. You didn’t understand what half of the things she said even meant, you were far too sheltered growing up and focused on reading the Bible most of the time.
“Who’s all gonna be there?” you asked as you walked inside her house.
“Well, I know Jesse’s whole group of friends are coming. Then there’s you, me, and…” she trailed off, looking away. You tilted your head to try and catch her attention. She fought hard not to look your way but you still kept trying to make eye contact until she finally looked at you. “Ellie,” she almost whispered. You sneered at the mention of the Williams girl.
“Ugh, I should’ve known,” you murmured. “Of course Ellie would be there.”
“Seriously, why do you two bicker so much?” Dina asked. “It’s like watching two kids fight over a toy. Or… really, more so like watching someone yell at a puppy for no reason.”
Your face fell. “Oh no… am I the puppy Dina? Please, don’t say I’m the puppy.”
Dina bit her lip and shrugged. “I mean… your comebacks are… something else.”
“What? Are you saying I can’t be mean?”
Dina couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face as she tried not to laugh. “You once said ‘bless your heart’ and that you’d pray for her.”
You scoffed as she broke into fits of laughter. “Hey, ‘bless your heart’ is the worst insult to receive where I come from! Sorry I felt bad afterwards and told her I’d pray for her!”
“Oh, I’m just messing. It’ll be alright. I’ll tell Ellie to cool it. I honestly don’t think she means anything by it. You’re just easy to tease,” Dina said as she made way to her closet. She pulled out a black longsleeve and extremely short shorts. “Here, wear this.”
You made a face at the outfit. “Is that not a bit… much?”
“Loosen up a bit! I think it’ll look real nice on your figure. Make the girlies pop out a little,” she said with a wink. 
You undressed and put the outfit Dina gave you on. She was right but left out the fact that the shorts revealed too much, your ass practically hanging out. The shirt fell just above your belly button. Dina gawked at the sight of you. “Hey, you should dress slutty more often.”
You couldn’t help but to admire yourself in the mirror. You were big on dressing as modest and comfortable as possible. You didn’t realize you had curves until now. “Wow… I think I kinda like this?”
“What can I say, I’m a genius,” bragged Dina.
-
You and Dina arrived at the party an hour later. Jesse opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Dina grinned. “I know right?”
Jesse looked you up and down then back at Dina. “Wow, I’m impressed,” he said, complimenting the both of you. “Come in.”
As you walked in, everyone stopped and stared. “Holy shit, you clean up nice!” one of the boys exclaimed. You shifted and looked down at the ground, too anxious to look at anyone. You were way out of your comfort zone but a part of you sort of enjoyed it. Your eyes wandered over to the couch where Ellie sat. She was rolling a joint, paying no mind to you. 
Dina walked over to her and leaned to whisper something in her ear. You stood there, watching Ellie’s face twist in disgust. You tried reading her lips, it looked like she said your name followed by the word “sensitive.” Dina smacked Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie began searching around the room until her eyes landed on you. Her eyebrows went up before turning to Dina. You couldn’t see her lips anymore but saw a smirk grow on Dina’s face.
Everyone took a shot and headed towards the couch. You followed, sitting on the ground next to Dina. You were kinda mad that to your right was Ellie, who now sat on the edge of the couch so the guys could sit next to her. She was so close that you could smell the soap she used. Ellie looked down at you, holding the joint out. Before you could decline, she passed it to the guy sitting next to her instead. “Shit, I forgot,” she said. “You’re too good to smoke.”
You glared at her smug face. “I don’t think I’m too good to smoke.”
“Well, you’re too good to drink.”
She reached over to grab an unopened bottle from the table. She grabbed two glasses and poured the liquor into each one. “I’m not too good to drink either!” you exclaimed, defending yourself.
Ellie chuckled. “Right,” she muttered. She went to grab the shot but you grabbed it first, downing it quickly. You coughed as it burned your throat.
“Woah,” Ellie blurted out sarcastically. “You took one shot, cool.”
You grabbed the other glass angrily and downed it too, slamming it back down on the table. 
“Jesus!” said Dina, grabbing your shoulder. “Take it slow, you don’t wanna get sick.”
At this point, the joint had reached Dina. She passed it to you to pass over to Ellie but you took a hit instead. You inhaled the smoke deeply and blew it out without coughing. You handed it to Ellie who had a playful smirk on her face. “Wow, I think I’m actually impressed.”
“Whatever,” you uttered, standing up to leave the circle. You went into the kitchen to take another shot. For some reason, you felt you had to prove to Ellie that you weren’t just a goody two shoes and that you could have fun. You knew that in order for the Jackson dealer to take you seriously, you would have to commit. 
After a couple shots, you slightly stumbled back to the circle. Dina looked concerned until you giggled. “Oh, boy. This is great,” you slurred, your eyes heavy from the weed. Dina laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to let loose!”
You looked up at Ellie, who was looking further down than your face with furrowed brows. She looked back up and quickly turned away. “Lightweight,” she said.
“Oh, shut it, Ellie,” you snapped. “Just for a second could you please just shut up!”
Ellie laughed. “Good Christian girl suddenly thinks she’s the shit all cause she took a hit off a blunt and a couple shots.”
Everyone groaned, tired of the constant arguing between the two. Every time they were in a room with them, Ellie would make fun of you until you couldn’t take anymore and left. They knew Ellie wasn’t fully serious, she liked picking on you because she thought it was hilarious that you couldn’t take a joke. But part of her started to despise you without her knowledge. Everyone loved you. You were sweet and would pray with anyone who wanted to pray. You would give back to the community and greet everyone who walked past you. Ellie thought it was all an act and grew tired of it.
You, on the other hand, never liked Ellie. She was a dealer who spent all of her free time smoking pot and sleeping around. You didn’t think that was any way to live. You hated the influence Ellie had on your friends. Everyone thought she was funny. You couldn’t understand why.
“Let’s play never have I ever!” Dina suggested, an attempt to break the silence and to lessen the tension that built up in the room. Everyone agreed and put all ten of their fingers up. You followed along, waiting for someone to start.
“Okay,” Dina started. “Loser has to go streaking.”
Everyone cheered. You frowned, unsure if you still wanted to play. “But!” said Dina, causing everyone to be quiet. “Usually, you’re out if you put all your fingers down. But… whoever is left with the most fingers up is the loser.”
You nudged Dina, giving her a look. “You know I’m gonna lose,” you whispered. Dina shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just lie.” 
“I’ll start,” said Jesse. “Never have I ever… made out with someone on patrol.”
Everyone put their fingers down except you.
“Never have I ever… had sex during patrol,” Dina said. Almost everyone put their finger down. They looked at you, waiting for you to say something. You decided to take Dina’s advice and start lying to avoid being the loser.
“Never have I ever snuck out.”
You put a finger down along with everyone else. Ellie scoffed. “Yeah sure,” she muttered. “Never have I ever had sex.”
You put a finger down, knowing that wasn’t true. Ellie kicked your knee lightly. “Wow, you’re getting some? Tell me, who?”
You looked over at Dina, your eyes wide as you tried to come up with a lie. Some girl who passed through Jackson? Some girl you met before Jackson? Your head started to hurt trying to come up with an excuse.
“Who?” Ellie asked again. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Girl,” Dina corrected. “She’s not attracted to men.”
You nodded, not really caring that Dina had outed you. You knew that you were surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge. Except for Ellie, even though she wasn’t straight herself.
Ellie looked genuinely shocked. “Really? Who’s the girl?”
You shrugged. “I’m not gonna name drop.”
“Because this girl isn’t real,” said Ellie. “Lying is a sin. You would know. You just don’t want to be the loser.” 
“Hey, it’s not fair to lie,” one of Jesse’s friends complained. Suddenly, everyone started whining about how it was against the rules. Either you say who it was or admit that you’re lying. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. Ellie was grinning but it went away when she saw tears in your eyes.
“I’m teasing, man. Chill… don’t be a crybaby about it.”
“Fuck you, Ellie,” you spat out. A few people gasped, including Dina. She turned to Jesse, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt guilty for suggesting to play the game and for telling Ellie to be nice. Dina realized it just made her pick on you even more. 
Ellie wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t mad but she wasn’t feeling good about the situation either.
“You’re a real piece of shit,” you continued. “Always throwing religion in my face, being mean, just… why? Why target me? I’ve always been nice to you even though I have never, ever liked you! So, fuck you, Ellie!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I knew better. I shouldn’t have come here when I found out you were gonna be here too. Just give it a rest, Ellie. Grow up!”
You stood up and brushed your shorts off. You faced your friends who all sat back quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Sorry for ruining your fun, guys.”
You stormed up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms. You collapsed on the bed, your head spinning. You felt awful for how you reacted but felt she deserved it. You were worried you ruined the party until you heard music along with everyone singing loudly. 
You heard a knock on the door. You got up, cracking it open. You were expecting Dina but felt your stomach drop when you saw Ellie. You tried to shut the door but Ellie stopped it with her hand, shoving her way inside and slamming the door shut and locking it. “I’m not here to bitch at you, I want to talk to you.”
“You really want to make things worse?”
“You’re right. I am a piece of shit,” Ellie hissed. “I know I go too far teasing you but you take everything seriously!”
“You don’t know me, Ellie,” you mumbled, too afraid to speak up in case your voice cracked. “I won’t lie and say that I ever cared for you. I don’t like the way you choose to live your life but I still was kind to you. You never gave me a chance.”
“Because you act like you’re better than everyone!”
“How?” you shouted. “All I want is to make friends with everyone, spread a little peace and love in this shitty world! It’s comforting to me, Ellie! I don’t think I’m better than you or anybody. I enjoy making others happy and you enjoy making people miserable. Actually, just me. Because I have never seen you do this to others. You hate me and I wish you didn’t! I hear how Dina talks about you and I see how you laugh with your friends and I’m jealous. I know I could’ve liked you had you been friendly with me. Because I was angry at myself for judging you so quickly. It was wrong of me. But of course, I was right!”
You turned away from Ellie and sat down on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest. “I felt I had to prove that I’m cool,” you continued. “I thought you would stop for just one night if you saw how cool I can be.”
“You want the truth?” Ellie asked.
“You’re always truthful. So, I might as well say yes even if I don’t really give a shit.”
“I meant it when I said I was impressed earlier.”
You scoffed. “Sure.”
“I can’t even take two shots back to back like that.”
“Stop teasing, Ellie. I am convinced that being torn apart by infected is less stressful than dealing with you.”
“Just shut the fuck up and let me talk, okay? I’m leading into something.”
You flinched at her raised voice, slowly looking up to see her facial expression harden. 
“I’m jealous of you,” she admitted. “I’m jealous that you can still believe in something and that you still care when everything is so fucked!”
You stood up, walking towards Ellie as she spoke. “I’d give anything, anything, to be that way. I had bitter feelings towards you. I think I wanted to tear you down so you wouldn’t be so… sweet. Giving, caring, everything I never could be.”
You watched her face closely, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. 
“I fuck girls like you and ignore them so they can hurt. Maybe I want the world to suffer with me,” said Ellie. “But I couldn’t do that to you. You’re too… good. I had to find another way.”
You paused as you connected what she said together. “Wait, you wanna…?” you trailed off, too shy to say it.
Ellie scratched her neck awkwardly. “Well, I did… but you’d never do that.”
“I might have,” you said, almost feeling ashamed of how bold you were being. You never would have thought this sober but Ellie was really pretty. If the circumstances were different, you knew that she would be your type. 
Ellie was taken aback by your statement.
“What?” Ellie questioned.
“Not now, since I know you would’ve ignored me.”
Ellie stepped closer to you, eyeing your body up and down. She thought you looked good tonight and couldn’t help but to peek at your tits when you weren’t paying attention, or your ass when you were turned away. 
“I… know I would’ve back then,” Ellie whispered, getting even closer to you. She stood above you, watching as your face turned red. Your heart sped up. You wondered why your panties started to feel a bit wet at the sight of Ellie looking down at you. You usually never got turned on. Ellie was right, you were just a good Christian girl who didn’t do anything. You never even tried touching yourself. Since you were breaking the rules now, you thought maybe you could break some more and pray for forgiveness later.
“I’m not so sure now,” Ellie continued, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never knew you were hiding that under all those baggy clothes.”
“A-Are you saying that in a bad way?”
Ellie shook her head. “When I first saw you earlier, I told Dina I kinda wanted to fuck you.”
Your breath hitched. “What did… Dina say?”
“That if I was nicer,” she said, stepping closer so there was almost no space left between your bodies. “I just might get to.”
Ellie caressed your cheek slowly. “Am I nice enough now, pretty girl?”
Your panties were soaked at this point. Your body trembled, afraid that you wouldn’t know what to do since it was your first time. Even though ten minutes ago you didn’t like the girl, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be underneath her.
“I really… was lying earlier,” you mumbled.
“I know you were.”
“You don’t care that I’ve never… had sex before?”
Ellie smirked. “I’m glad you’ve never been fucked before. I want to be the one who corrupts you. I want everybody who fucks you after me to be a disappointment so you come crawling back. You’ll never find better than me, not even your own hand.”
Ellie leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. You pulled away to speak. “I don’t even do that…”
Ellie chuckled. “Really? Little church girl don’t know how to please herself?”
Usually, you would get mad at Ellie for saying stuff like that. Now, her insults just made you throb even more. 
“Have you even kissed before?”
You bit your lip shyly and shrugged. “Not… really. When I was 13, a boy tried kissing me and I didn’t kiss back.”
“Aw, poor pup,” Ellie teased, running her fingers on the exposed skin of your tummy. “I get to teach you everything.”
Finally, Ellie collided her lips with yours. She was super gentle, placing her hand on your cheek and brushing it with her thumb. You melted in the kiss, pressing your thighs together to ease your aching cunt. The friction made it feel even better, causing you to release a soft moan into her mouth. Ellie pulled away, smirking at the noise you made. “I wanna hear more of that.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can do anything to make you feel good.”
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
You hesitated a bit before nodding. Of course you wanted that. You were just scared that you’d be bad at it since you had zero experience.
“Then let me fuck you. I get off to getting you off, understand?” asked Ellie. 
“Y-Yes.”
“Good girl,” Ellie praised. “Lay down, baby.”
You obeyed and laid down onto the bed. You watched as Ellie slowly took your boots off and dropped them onto the ground. “Lift your hips up for me?”
You lifted your hips and let Ellie pull your shorts off. Ellie bit her lip at the sight of your white cotton panties. She could see how soaked they were. “Look at that,” she breathed. You closed your legs to hide yourself but Ellie pulled them back open, holding your thighs down so you couldn’t move. “Filthy little girl,” she cooed. “What would God say about this?”
Your breathing started to grow heavier. “I-I don’t care what He would say,” you whined.
Ellie held back a moan that threatened to escape her lips. She pulled your panties off and threw them behind her.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “Your pussy is so pretty.”
She tugged at your shirt until you got the hint to raise up. She lifted the fabric over your head and dropped it on the floor. You were completely naked while Ellie was fully dressed. She rolled her sleeves up, her eyes never leaving yours. She crawled on top of you and started making out with you passionately. Without pulling away, she started to unbutton her jeans and took them off swiftly. She shoved her knee against your dripping cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. She placed her hands on your hips and guided them up and down so you were grinding on her.
“Just like that, baby. Good girl.”
You started to moan louder, Ellie covering your mouth and shushing you. “As much as I want to make you scream, you don’t want anyone to hear and interrupt us, do you?”
You shook your head no. “Will you be quiet for me?”
“Yes,” you whimper. 
Ellie pressed her knee harder on your pussy. You started to go faster, mewling and biting your lip to keep quiet.
“Such a good girl. You listen so well,” Ellie complimented. She took her knee away and brushed a finger up your slit. Your body jolted at the feeling. “You want me to taste you baby?”
“Please,” you almost cried out, desperate for whatever Ellie planned on doing to you. Ellie moaned at the sight of you squirming. She loved watching you unfold beneath her. To think she ever hated you was beyond her at this point. She wished she had done this sooner as she admired how beautiful you were. 
“Say it,” Ellie demanded. “Use your words, pup.”
“E-Ellie, please” you begged. “F-Fuck me.”
Ellie tutted, shaking her head no. “I plan on fucking you anyway. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”
You were confused. You’ve heard Dina say that Jesse would ‘eat her out’ but you weren’t sure what it really meant. Ellie saw the confusion on your face and laughed. “Wow, you’re too innocent.” 
You started to sit up but Ellie pushed you back down softly. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mean it that way,” she apologized. “It’s okay that you don’t know what that means. I’ll show you baby. You want that?”
You nodded. “Yes, please show me.”
Ellie leaned down between your thighs and started peppering kisses all over them. You reached down to grip her hair as her lips got closer to your pussy. She flicked her tongue across your clit once and looked up at you. “Do you understand now, pup?”
“Mm, yes Ellie.”
She smirked. “You want me to continue?”
“Please?”
Ellie chuckled as she went back down to your dripping cunt, licking it all up and swallowing. She savored the taste of you, going back down for more. You grabbed the pillow beneath your head to put over your face in an attempt to muffle your moans.
Ellie stopped and yanked the pillow out of your hands. “They turned the music all the way up finally. You don’t have to be quiet anymore. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”
Ellie pressed her tongue against your clit and went back and forth between a circular motion and flicking it. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, your hands grabbing Ellie’s hair to pull her closer. She moaned against you, speeding her tongue up. She brought a hand up to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling on it. Ellie used her free hand to gently push one finger in. You yelped, yanking Ellie’s hair harder. She pulled away and licked her lips. “Too much baby?” she asked, out of breath. You shook your head no and pulled her back to keep going.
Ellie loved how tight you felt. The feeling of you gripping around her finger made her want to bend you over and fuck you with a strap. She wished the party was at her place so she could have used all the toys she had on you.
A feeling began to build up in your stomach as you trembled harder. “E-Ellie!” you moaned, bucking your hips upward as you got closer and closer to cumming.
“Come on, baby. That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for me.”
All of the sudden, your body began to convulse as your orgasm hit you hard. Ellie slowly fingered you, riding it out until you pulled away from her. She brought her finger up to your mouth, forcing it open and shoving it down your throat. You sucked on her finger with a moan.
“Such a good girl,” Ellie praised, elated with how quickly you catch on.
“Wow,” you mumbled, out of breath from all the noises you made. “Never in a million years did I think I’d lose my virginity to you.”
Ellie sent you a sly smile. “I never knew I’d take it.”
You raised up slightly, leaning against Ellie’s shoulder. “Are you still going to be mean to me?”
Ellie sighed. “No, baby. That’s all over now.” 
“Good. Do I put my clothes on now?”
“Why do you have to ask for my permission?” Ellie questioned with a laugh.
You giggled. “Well, I like… asking you.”
“Well, then no. I think I want to fingerfuck you some more. Can you take that?”
You froze, looking up at her with a fucked out expression. You were exhausted but didn’t want your time with Ellie to end. “Mhm, I think so.”
Ellie leaned back a bit and grabbed you. “Come lay in my lap, baby. Ass up.”
You complied and laid down, arching your back in excitement. Ellie rubbed her hand over your ass, squeezing tightly as you moaned. “Tell me, did you pray for me?”
Before you could ask what she meant by that, she shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt. You yelped as she fucked you with them slow and hard. “That one time when you got mad at me for making fun of you, you said you’d pray for me. Did you?”
Ellie sped her movements up as she went deeper inside you.
“Fuck!” you yelled out, trembling and kicking your feet at the feeling.
“Answer me, pup, or I’ll stop,” Ellie threatened.
“Yes!”
“Yes what, baby?”
“Yes! God, yes, I prayed for you!”
Ellie went even faster as you got closer to cumming again. “Atta girl, such a sweet pup. Praying for a sinner like me.”
“Ellie! Fuck! I-I prayed for you everyday!” you babbled, unable to speak without getting interrupted by your own sounds of pleasure.
“Yeah? Told God how bad you wanted me? Told Him all your dirty thoughts, you filthy slut?”
You moaned louder, bucking your hips up towards Ellie . “Yes!”
“You’re gonna ask for forgiveness, aren’t you? Like the good Christian girl you are.”
“Mm, yes, Ellie,” you whined, your orgasm about to take over you.
“Then ask, baby, ask.”
“God, forgive me please,” you said in between moans as you finally came undone for her. The force of you cumming shook your entire body and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t help but to repeat Ellie’s name until you started to come down, your body almost collapsing onto her lap. 
“Good girl.”
Ellie helped you up onto your feet, your legs shaking. “Let me help you get dressed,” she offered.
As Ellie helped you into your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Ellie? Did I… make God mad at me?”
Ellie stopped, placing her hands on your shoulders and staring deep into your eyes. “Who could be mad at an angel like you?”
You blushed, removing yourself from her grip and tugging your shirt over your head. You put your shoes on next and sighed, looking up at Ellie with a tired smile. “Do we say anything?”
Ellie shook her head no, quickly fixing your hair so it wasn’t obvious what happened. “Just say we talked and you forgave me. I had one hell of an apology,” she uttered with a goofy grin. You laughed softly.
“So, you’re not gonna ignore me, right?”
Ellie wrapped her arms around you for a second before stepping back, eyeing you up and down while heading towards the door. Your heart stung, wondering if maybe Ellie didn’t mean what she said before. 
“Come by tomorrow night,” said Ellie as she turned the knob. “I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t question me again.”
Ellie left you standing there, your mouth open in shock. You waited a couple minutes before heading downstairs to the party.
“Hey,” you heard Dina call out to you. She grabbed your hand and looked at you with concern. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Ellie. It just made her worse. I begged her not to talk to you but-”
“Dina,” you interrupted. “She explained herself and I explained myself. We’re all good.”
Dina looked surprised. “What? Really? You forgave her?”
You looked behind Dina to see Ellie back on the couch, staring at you with a grin as she puffed on her joint. You smiled at Dina and nodded. “Of course I forgave her. Her apology was genuine and…”
“What did she say?” Dina pressed on.
You shrugged. “I can’t remember everything she said but it was one hell of an apology.”
2K notes · View notes
pseudowho · 21 days
Note
Surely mister perfect dad-husband-lover Nanami babywears? I could see him in a big woven wrap, maybe one in the same pattern as his tie?
And once the baby is a toddler, tossing them on his back while they run errands about town?
Bonus: would Higuruma? I haven’t read the manga so I only really know of him and his traits via fandom…
Nanami Kento: He absolutely babywears 👏👏 I think he'd be into the reliability of a structured carrier myself, but would absolutely fall apart if Mrs.Nanami has one made with a bespoke, tie-matching pattern.
I think he'd also have a meticulously organised baby bag with snacks, outfit changes, medicine, etc. Truly, a prepared king. He finds it uniquely frustrating that most baby-change rooms are in women's only bathrooms.
I think he'd have a back carrier for a toddler, but he'd encourage them to walk as much as he could, wearing the carrier just in case. They'd get thrown on his back when he needs to carry stuff though. He'd check they're awake back there by doing the Reach Back and Offer Snack technique...if a little hand comes out to take the snack, they're awake 😌
He'd be talking to people while babywearing, his usual low, stern voice, and would randomly interject every now and then with his sweet dad voice to include the baby: "...so we intercepted the Curse on the second floor, and Ino managed to take it out. But you don't need to know about that, do you, sweetheart? No, nooooo. No scary monsters here, no there aren't..."
Talk too loudly by him while the baby's asleep on him, and you'll be met with a death glare, and a single, raised finger in threat; Mr.Nanami Kento, who can excuse murder, but draws the line at disturbing naps.
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Higuruma Hiromi: While I HC Higuruma as child free by choice (I have written just one fic of Dad!Higuruma), I think he'd absolutely babywear through practicality, the guy's too busy to push a buggy. If he has to use a buggy one day, I picture him jogging this baby to daycare (because he's running late) while pushing this buggy. He drops his baby off, gives him a big kiss and hair ruffle...then runs back, because the baby's been holding onto his case notes for him, and he forgot them.
That baby would be his confidante; Higuruma would share case details and ask his baby's opinion ("...so the prosecution, think they've got the evidence they need, but they're clowns. They're clowns, aren't they? Aren't they darling? Yes they are..."), go to client meetings with the baby ("Look...I believe you, but my kid doesn't look convinced. Maybe try something more like..."), and use his baby as an excuse ("Ahhh I'm sorry, I can't make that client lunch actually? Why? Oh, me and my baby hate you I haven't got childcare for the afternoon, today.")
Higuruma's a big oral fixation guy, and a fidgeter (pen chewer, gavel twizzler, tie loosening...) and assumes his baby is too, so has a baby fiddle-clip for when he's babywearing (he likes a wrap sling-- he knows it looks sloppy, but he's a dexterous king and can tie one in 10 seconds flat). He may or may not have had a bespoke fiddle/teething clip made, with a little rubberised gavel on it for chewing.
He's one of those dads who feels sleepy when a baby naps on him. You'd find him, slumped back in his office chair, with a baby napping on his chest, while Hiromi snores away, head back and exhausted, a pen and paperwork still in his hand.
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Mr.Haitch is a keen babywearer. I'm very into Strong Man Wears Baby as a thing 💀
-- Haitch xxx
459 notes · View notes
boiohboii · 10 months
Text
The Spaniard's Wife (Carlos Sainz x wife!reader)
Inspired by @charles-eclair16 's fic
Carlos Sainz had a secret for the past 9 years, but when he forgot to take off the one thing that can reveal everything, everyone has questions
or
in which Carlos let's everyone know that the rumors, in fact, are true
masterlist
N.B: didn't turn out how I wanted but I've been rewriting it multiple times and I think this is the best option, hope you like it...WARNINGS: swear words a lot, not proof read, spelling mistakes and really bad photoshop tbh, if I missed anything please let me know!
Faceclaim: Emeraude Toubia
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Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris and 910,583 others
Carlossainz55: my wife and I have been friends for 20 years, we have been lovers for 13 of those years, engaged for 2 and married for 9. I have never been sure of much, but I am sure that I love her with my entire heart, I will always love her. I have known yn since before I could even dream of being an f1 driver, what happened in that one interview was disrespectful and just disgusting. No one has any right to speak any ill word of my wife, you don't know her and you never will, as long as she doesn't want you to. I will do everything for her, for her happiness, her comfort and for her ease of mind.
landonorris: tell yn I miss her!
Carlossainz55: leave her alone
landonorris: I'll tell her that you're rude to me
Carlossainz55: she's my wife!
landonorris: yeah yeah, you never let us forget it
username: yn been here since day 0 apparently, can't fight her now
username: YES!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!
username: I want dts to make a reincarnation of their love story
username: we need a spinoff
username: yes! It'd be so cute
username: I can't imagine 16 year old carlos realising he is in love with his friend
username: she is every man's wet dream
-this comment has been removed-
username: she looks so pretty wtf
username: she's looks like a doll
username: wish i looked like that at 20 years old
username: her dress is phenomenal
username: this screams money
username: 2 different cars for a wedding
username: the third slide, holy shit
username: I wouldn't be surprised if the last 2 pictures are carlos' or her house, like holy fuck
username: both scream rich
username: mum used to say rich people look it and I never gave it much thought until I saw carlos sainz and now his wife
username: did y'all see the picture that one twitter user took? Their outfits looked so fucking good
username: YES! I SAW IT! I could never afford a thread on either outfit!
username: did you guys see her hair! It looks so thick and healthy
username: fr!
username: I want a wedding like that!
username: I want a husband like that!
username: I want a wife like that!
username: I love how he is not in one single picture 💀😂
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Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, Pierregasly and 1,209,316 others
Carlossainz55: 10 years since i was able to call you wife, and I will never get tired of letting everyone know that. I am in love with you, forever and always.
Charles_leclerc: simp
Carlossainz55: I don't know what that means
landonorris: ikr, it's laughable man @.Charles_leclerc
Charles_leclerc: don't pretend like you're not the same with your girl @.landonorris
username: damn charles really coming for everyone's neck today
username: bet charles is the biggest simp of them
username: he really making us feel lonely as hell huh
username: 10 fucking years, Holy shit!
username: no cause if I had yn by my side I too would be in fucking love
username: don't embarrass yourself, everyone knows you're in love without her by your side
username: I didn't ask to be attacked like that wtf
3K notes · View notes
sixosix · 9 months
Text
summary wc 1.5k, lyney’s teapot voicelines (with a bit of modification here and there) turned fic. just fluff and pining lyney LOLL to celebrate him coming home yesterday ❤️
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“Hey, Y/N!”
Arriving at the Serenitea Pot only to come face-to-face with a certain illustrious magician is what you haven’t been expecting. You stumble back from surprise, and Lyney reaches out to catch you naturally, like this was something out of his scripted shows.
He beams. “I just knew you would be making an appearance here!”
“D-Don’t scare me like that!” you scold, warmth spreading across your face with each passing moment of his proximity. What’s with Lyney’s breath coming off so warm? It burns more than holding his vision for too long. “What if it was someone else who came in here?”
“That’d be really awkward,” Lyney admits, but his easy smile and undaunted fingers on the small of your back convey no embarrassment.
“I almost forgot that I gave you permission to this teapot,” you sigh, gently pushing him away with a palm on his chest. He concedes, pulling you upright and backing off.
You place your hands on your hips. “Well? How do you like it here?”
Lyney’s smile softens impossibly, letting his gaze wander around your teapot. Outside, it’s dim and wet from the rain, but here, his face is cast in a warm, gold glow—it’s taking all of you not to crash onto his chest and use him as a heated stuffed toy. “Your home is breathtaking. Even a legendary magician like myself can confidently say I've never seen or heard of anything like it!”
You huff, gesturing for him to follow you inside. “Impressed, are we?”
“It’s hard not to be impressed by anything when it comes to you,” Lyney says without missing a beat. You thank every archon listening that your back is facing him, not your bitten lips and wide eyes. “But were I to say I've already gotten completely used to it... Would you think I'm lying?”
Is he planning to make himself at home on the first day? “Sure doesn't seem like the truth.”
Lyney laughs, speeding up to walk beside you. “Aw, that really hurts my feelings… But, I was really being honest this time!”
“Ha, ha,” you say blankly, twisting the doorknob open. Lyney ooh’s and aah’s at the sight of your hall, twirling around as he takes each in, from souvenirs you received in Fontaine to furniture you bought all the way from Mondstadt.
He makes his way to a shelf filled with various items you’ve collected over time, region to region. The Adhigama Wood still looks as clean as it was first bought, after you’d been lectured about the special paint that’ll keep it grease-free, appearing untouched. Lyney looks hesitant to reach out, scanning a framed picture in the middle.
It’s a solo picture of you with flowers adorning your head, two bouquets wrapped in large leaves in your arms, and your face captured mid-laugh. The aranaras took it. Lyney looks at it for a moment too long, his finger hovering above the glass.
Starting to feel a little strange about it, you stand beside him, wondering if there’s anything wrong with the picture that he’s seeing. Yet there is nothing but a thin layer of dust on the image, which you swipe away. “Something caught your eye?”
He turns back to you with a mischievous grin. “Well, looks like I've got no choice but to stay here for a while longer! After all, it will take some time for me to win your trust again.”
Lyney looks up at you through his lashes, tilting his head. “...You won't kick me out, right?”
‘Staying here for a while longer’ meant that Lyney was checking every nook, cranny, and room, empty or unoccupied (“Some of your friends live here?” Lyney gapes). You give him a bit of a story for each one, and he soaks your words in like a sunflower to the sun, never appearing disinterested even when you speak about a round table like it’s your firstborn child.
He’s explored more than your friends whom you’ve offered to give rooms to, which is saying enough. And now, exhausted, you pair rest on the loveseat, gazing at the ceiling wordlessly.
“Say,” Lyney says, after moments of silence. He sits up, shuffling closer to you until he kneels on the seat cushion and displays his hat. “Why don't you take a look at this? Do you see anything different about it?”
You squint. “Don't think there's any difference.”
“Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.” Lyney brightens when you play along, drawing nearer himself. “So, do you have the answer? Is it the pattern, or the color? You should have seen this hat many times before.”
“...Nope, still not seeing it.”
He sighs, resting the hat on your head. “What a pity... Although, your conclusion is actually correct.”
Unbelievably confused, you reach out to hold it, patting all around it. “Is it bigger or smaller than before?” You can’t see much from this angle, nor feel much.
“You look adorable,” Lyney grins, pinching your cheek. “And no, the whole thing was misdirection. I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your pockets.”
You blink, reaching down to your pockets and fishing out a card, just as he’s said. It feels as real as it can be between your fingers, still warm from its previous holder.
Lyney grins at your dumbstruck expression, pleased. “Now, can you guess what I stole from you?”
You take a moment to answer, watching him carefully. “My heart?”
He jolts just as his entire face bursts into flames. “Ah, um, a most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.” He looks at you with a petulant glare, as if saying, why would you say that?
Lyney clears his throat, “What I actually stole, however, was your ‘attention.’ E-Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!”
He trails off, face still pink. “...Okay, you can return my card to me now.”
After that, it had been pretty hard to get rid of Lyney.
He seems to always be there whenever you come around—either spread out on the couch and practicing cards with one hand until you call for him, or appearing in front of you the moment you warp in. You ask if he’s just here every day, waiting for you, but he seems embarrassed to give you an answer.
Today, he has his pets with him. Some of them fly and run around outside, with Lyney at ease when you assure him that there are no signs of monsters here, and you have an Adeptus continuing to keep this haven safe.
You have Lyney’s hat on your lap, playing with Rosseland. The cat is performing a little magic show for you, taking after its owner, especially with how it soaks in your applause with a smug smile.
Lyney is a deflated balloon on the other side of the room, most likely regretting his decision as now you’ve poured all your attention on his pet assistants instead of him. Even worse, his pets seem to love you much more.
Having enough, Lyney approaches from behind, frowning at Rosseland, who appears unbothered, loving the crowd as always.
Your head falls back to the couch, looking at Lyney with a dazzling smile. “You were asking if they could stay here, right? I think you can guess my answer.”
Lyney is torn between celebrating and groaning at the thought of possibly more days of you ignoring him to come. “That would be wonderful,” he says instead, though sincerely. “Thank you.”
You laugh quietly, pulling him close with your fingers on his nape. “Why do you look constipated? Don’t tell me you’re feeling jealous over your own cat?”
He doesn’t tell you, so he keeps quiet instead, the red on his cheeks spreading all the way to his neck.
“Don’t make fun of me,” Lyney says, feigning annoyance while you chuckle. He leans impossibly closer, until your noses are barely an inch away.
“Your cat is watching,” you warn upon seeing the look on his face.
Lyney groans, snatching the hat and wearing it on his head, where Rosseland settles inside by practice. Then, against your mouth, he whispers, “Haven’t I made it obvious I brought them here as an excuse for this?”
You raise an eyebrow. “So you are jea—”
You didn’t end up finishing your sentence at all, swallowed by the press of his lips.
 
By this point, you’re no longer surprised whenever you enter your teapot. 
“Morning, Lyney,” you say, leaving him stunned instead when you plant a kiss on his cheek before maneuvering around and entering your home.
It takes a while for him to snap out of it. Lyney grins, catching up to you. “Good morning. It would be great if I could see you every morning if you’re gonna kiss me like that.”
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a/n more sixosix lyney fic what have i become
1K notes · View notes
luvmmarner · 1 year
Text
PROMPTS OF ALL PROMPTS
I would definitely make intense smut prompts later! For now I hope you enjoy these fluff angst prompts instead! Requests are always opened!
For others that want to use these prompts! You're free to do so! Just tag me no need to credit. I would love to read it and see what you came up with! -- FLUFF PROMPTS 
“Can you hug me”
“My teammates gets annoyed because I talk about you 24/7”
“Can we have a date night tonight?”
“Do you know you're pretty” 
“Why are you being a pain?” 
“Stop simping for me you simp” 
“Your blushing you idiot” 
“Are you kidding me? I love cuddles” 
“Your hair smells good.” 
“I just want to lay here all day” 
“Can you wash my hair for me?” 
“I really need you right now”
“I like you.. well no… I love you” 
“I love your smile” 
“You sent me inappropriate pictures. When I was out in public” 
“Why are you so clingy?” 
“Fine. We can stay home tonight” 
“Dance with me in the rain” 
“Let’s jump in the puddles!” 
“Can I sit on your lap?” 
“Kiss me please!” 
“Can you rub my arm in circles?” 
“I’m wearing your shirt if that’s fine!” 
“This still smells like you” (long distant or for breakups) 
“Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby.” 
“Stop you’re making me blush in public” 
“Don’t… I’m ticklish —“ 
“I can’t sleep can I stay here”
“I had a nightmare…”
“I care about you”
“You mean everything to me”
“You make me feel like I’m at home every time”
“Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one”
“Stop denying it! You need sleep”
“You’re so adorable.”
“You make me so happy.”
“I need pads”
“I don’t ever want to lose you”
“I feel better now that you’re here with me”
“It’s like we are meant to be”
“I’m not going anywhere”
“I feel safe when I’m with you”
“I can’t reach the top shelf.. Can you help?”
“Here take my jacket.”
“I just started my period…”
 “I’m right here baby, it’s okay”
“I’m so in love with you.”
“I’m never leaving you.”
“You're mine forever.”
“Should we make it official?”
BEACH PROMPTS
“Can you do my sunscreen?” 
“Why is your massages better than you scratching my back” 
“Please come in the water” 
“Stop it’s cold!” 
“I'm going to splash you!” 
“My sandcastle is better than yours” 
“I won!”
“Don’t throw me in the water!!!”
“I’m trying to tan”
“Stand in front of me you block the sun”
“Can you give me a piggyback”
“The sand is hot” 
“Come with me on the floatie!”
“Can you set up the umbrella?”
WINTER PROMPTS
“it’s snowing!” 
“We are locked in…”
“Let’s look at the stars through the window”
“Can we bake gingerbread cookies”
“You got frosting on your face”
“It’s so cold..”
“I love hot coco.”
“Look! I caught a snowflake in my mouth!”
“You got snow in your hair!”
“My snowman is better!”
“Whoever gets to the bottom of the hill first wins!”
“It’s freezing, could you turn on the heat?”
“Snowball fight!!!”
“I got snow in my boots, now my feet are cold.”
“Dw! I’ll warm you up!”
“Let’s build a fort!”
“This is the perfect time to set up the Christmas tree!”
“Ooh! I love sledding!”
“Woo! That was sooo fun!”
“Here! I made this one just for you!”
“You have such good decorating skills!”
SUMMER/CAMPING PROMPTS
“It’s so hot!”
“Can I borrow your hat please?”
“May you buy me a slushie? I forgot my wallet”
“The mosquitoes are killing me”
“Here let me spray you”
“Let’s go on a hike!”
“The sun is so bright.”
“Did you forget the sunscreen.”
“Baby, can you get my backside please?”
“I want to go swimming.”
“Can we just stay inside!”
“This is the perfect spot to set up our campsite.”
“I got the marshmallows!”
“I’ll help you set up the tent. But.. I don’t know how.”
“I’m already tired.”
“Let's roast marshmallows!”
“I made a smore just for you!”
“We can share.”
“Come swimming with me!”
“The water is sooo warm.”
“I rented a boat. You know how to drive it right..?”
“Don’t worry, of course I got the beer.”
“I love summer parties.”
“No… I didn’t steal your towel… Ok fine I did”
“Put me down – Ok ok fine fine! You win.”
“Can we go on a road trip?”
“You pushed me into the water, you jerk!”
“I couldn’t help myself… All the ice-cream flavours looked so good!”
“I didn’t buy any more ice cream.. The receipts are lies!!!!”
“Can we stay longer!!”
ANGST/ARGUMENT/BREAKUP PROMPTS
“You promised me.”
“You lied. You said you would never leave me.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know everything”
“Please don’t do this.”
“I loved you.”
“Why don’t you trust me”
“This can’t be goodbye.”
“Please don’t walk out.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t love you.”
“We were never meant to be.”
“I just wanted to be enough for you.”
“I don’t forgive you.”
“Stop saying sorry! It’s always ‘I’m sorry’. When you really aren’t”
“If you’re sorry, why did you leave me?”
“You thought I was dumb.”
“I know you’re lying.”
“Why did I fall in love with you.”
“I’m so stupid to think we had something.”
“You never cared about me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop being selfish.”
“I moved on.”
“You cheated on me.”
“This isn’t working…”
“No. We can’t… we are too toxic for each other.”
“Why me..”
“Us? There was never an ‘us’.”
“I’m done.”
“It’s better if we just stop seeing each other.”
“I can’t love you.”
“You broke my heart so carelessly. Now you want forgiveness?”
“You don’t deserve me.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Your always mad at me.”
“What do you want? Because I could care less.”
“I was such a fool.”
“You talked to her and then lied about it.”
“You told people that you were single…”
“I thought you loved me..”
“How could you…”
“That’s not going to happen. I already told you.”
“What's wrong with you seriously?”
“You lost me”
“Where’s your new gf/bf?”
“Shouldn’t you be with your new gf/bf”
“I thought things were going amazing”
“I thought wrong…”
“This is goodbye.”
“Don’t you love me?”
“I can’t live without you.’
“What did you expect me to say?”
“Our relationship is in the past. I’m sorry.”
“I like someone else.”
“This will be the last time you lie to me.”
“How did you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t meet again.”
“You didn’t love me, did you?”
“I hope you're happier.”
“At least you got what you wanted”
“I was miserable and I still loved you.”
“Stop pretending. You wanted me like this… You wanted me broken and you got what you wanted.”
“We can’t keep talking. This isn’t healthy.”
“It’s best if we stop talking… like forever.”
“You're not the same person I fell in love with.”
“You don’t own me.”
“You act like everything is fine when it’s not!”
“Can we not argue for once.”
“Not now. Not even in a million years. I would ever think to give you another chance.”
“I fell for your lies again, and now I’m not anymore.”
“I was nothing to you. I was only a toy for you to manipulate and I fell for it.”
“Why wouldn’t you admit to everything! This was all your fault.”
“I hate you.”
“I despise you.”
“You were my ride or die.”
“I don’t fall in love. I don’t want to be loved or love someone else.”
“If I leave you know you would never see me again.”
“I deserve better.”
“You were my first and would be my last.”
“Don’t – Don’t make me fall in love again.”
“You know we can’t..”
“I know this is random and we haven’t talked in awhile.. But can you stay with me one more night and just forget about everything.”
“It was indeed. The wrong place the wrong time”
“Good for you!”
“Why can’t you be happy for me for once?”
“We shouldn’t be together anymore. I’m supposed to hate you.”
“How could I be so oblivious..”
“Why did I even think I could be enough for you.”
“I needed to hold you once more.”
“I don’t understand.. Wha- what are you saying..”
“I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.”
“Don’t bother to call me when you need something later.”
“I didn’t mean to. I was just mad..”
“Please forgive me.”
“Why are you suddenly coming back into my life after I just started to do good.”
“Do you not understand the words ‘I’m done’.”
“Haha! You think I love you? That’s pathetic.”
FICS/STORY IDEAS
Here’s some storyline ideas. You can decide if you want it angst or fluff or whatever! I don’t mind if you take this ideas. You don’t need to credit just a tag, so I could read it! Would be great!
All the promises were already broken. 
Just one more night with no feelings, nothing. After that we forget.
Reader finds out their relationship was nothing, but a lie.
He wanted her back. She moved on.��
Even after breaking up. They still find ways back to each other.
He manipulated her and she fell for it.
They are toxic for each other. But always end up in bed with each other.
He wanted her back but she isn’t giving him another chance.
He left her and she still wanted him back.
They were never meant to be and they knew that. They just can’t let each other go.
She just wanted to be enough for him, but he didn’t care.
He cheated and she found out. Now he realized he can’t live without her.
He didn’t deserve her. But her love for him is stronger.
They thought they had something. But then decided it was best if they stopped seeing each other.
She always forgave him, but this time she didn’t.
How could you be in love with someone who is always mad at you. She knew it was best if she just left. But after everything they've been through it wasn’t going to be easy.
She couldn’t love him as much as she wanted to. It was forbidden to sleep with someone you worked for. But she couldn’t help but ignore the rule.
He was such a fool for letting her into his life. But maybe it was the best thing to happen to him.
They broke up, but they can’t live without each other.
Their relationship was fragments of the past, but deep down their love was still stronger than ever. What happens when they meet again?
She thought things were going amazing. Well she thought wrong.
He got what he wanted and he was happy. Meanwhile she was still broken and miserable.
Their relationship was amazing at the start. But over time the person that she fell in love with wasn’t the same.
After years of talking. They decided it was best if they stopped. Maybe it actually didn’t stop in the end.
He didn’t listen and thought everything was fine. She knew everything wasn’t fine and just wanted him to listen.
She despised him. He was arrogant and only cared about himself. That was until he gave her a ride home.
She didn’t want to fall in love with him again until his touch made her do the one thing she didn’t want to do ‘fall in love again’.
They stopped talking, but he called her wanting just one more night to forget about everything.
No denying they loved each other. But this was their third breakup. It was just best if she left for good.
He was her first love and would be her last. (either she could meet someone else or something!)
He didn't care about any girls and most importantly. He didn’t fall in love. That was until he saw her and his whole life changed.
She knew he was pretending and she wasn’t falling for it.
After years of dating they finally said the 3 words. ‘I love you’
Maybe being snowed in wasn’t so bad after all.
He didn’t seem to understand the words ‘I’m done.’ If they were done, why was she in his bed again.
After years of apologizing. Apology accepted.
After she said don’t ‘bother calling when you need something’. Turns out it was her in the end calling for something.
Maybe jealousy is something that can reunite the flame that was lost.
He was jealous and she didn’t care.
She didn’t trust him. Until one night when drinks got the best of her, and waking up on his couch realized how wrong she was.
She thought he didn’t love her. Until he showed her how much he did.
He didn’t understand that she was breaking up with him. She wanted so badly to say no. But her desires got the best of her.
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stardustloserdoll · 5 months
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hii can you do friends to lovers with johnnie x youtuber!reader? and the reader is like friends with jake and thats how they met? love your work btw <3
tyyy 🩷
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you know i’ll keep you in my locket
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“y/n you made it! come, i want you to meet someone!” jake quickly grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd pulling me in many directions. until he stopped in his tracks, “ah there he is.” jake spoke turning back giving me a smile. “johnnieee.” jake sang pulling me next to him with a big smile on his face.
“what.” the guy johnnie said looking up from his drink to look at jake. “this is y/n! remember i told you all about them?” johnnie nodded his head sending a smile towards me “yeah you yapped a bunch about them.” johnnie replied, making me laugh. “you know me, the yap king. anyways, y/n! this is johnnie.”
i smiled waving at johnnie “hey, nice to meet you. jakes also told me a lot about you. i like your shirt by the way.” johnnies eyes lit up “you like this band?” i nodded my head “i love them! i have all of their cds and posters all over my room.” i laughed putting my hands in my pockets. jake watching us with a big smile on his face.
“oh yeah johnnie! y/n is also a youtuber! i think you guys should do a collab together. it should be fun.” jake said wrapping his arms around our shoulders. “im down.” i smiled looking over to johnnie. “yeah me too.”
ever since that day, johnnie and i have been inseparable. every time i saw him, the bigger my crush on him got. i always got nervous and stuttered around him, probably making it obvious i liked him. i don’t know if i’ll ever tell him how i feel..
"hi everyone, today i have a special guest joining me…johnnie!" i smiled pulling him in frame "hi."
"johnnies going to attempt to do my makeup. i glanced at johnnie sending him a reassuring smile."i know he'll do great."
johnnie started applying the foundation onto my face, patting it down softly. "how about we tell them how we met." i said moving some hair out of my face.
"ooh you're right!" johnnie smiled moving onto the eyeshadow and mascara, "alright so we met at a party, and jake introduced us to each other. jake told me a lot about y/n, but i never got to meet y/n, but i'm glad i finally did."
"aww, johnnie." johnnie smiled tapping my knee signaling he was done. “how’s it looking.” i smiled. "it looks. pretty good actually. i made a mess though." he laughed cleaning where the mascara smudged. "i bet it looks great. now, the hardest part. the eyeliner." i said lifting it up to him. "oh god, if you look like a clown by the end of this im so sorry." johnnie held my face gently as he began applying the eyeliner.
"anyways,” johnnie said resuming “back to the story. it was an instant connection, we liked a lot of the same things, especially our humor. since then, we’ve literally been hang out like..everyday. i'd have to say my favorite person ever is y/n, sorry jake."
"you heard him jake. IM his favorite." i smiled sticking my tongue out. "okay, i think i did pretty good." johnnie said leaning back making sure the wings were sharp. "im really excited to see the finishing product." i said clapping my hands. johnnie set the eyeliner down and told me to open my eyes. "guys look at the matching necklaces johnnie and i got."
"we have pictures of each other in them." johnnie smiled opening the heart locket. "he looks so cute in this picture." i laughed raising it up to the camera. "y/n looks so pretty here." johnnie smiled looking into my eyes, glancing down at my lips.
“why are you looking at me like that.” i laughed pinching his cheek. “what do you mean!” johnnie yelled lifting his arms up. “you’re looking at me like you wanna kiss me.” johnnie turned away, mumbling something under his breath. “what was that johnnie?” he shook his head mumbling a ‘nothing.’ “wait i forgot the lipstick.” johnnie reached over and grabbed the lipstick, carefully applying it.
"okay y/n, are you ready to see your final look." i nodded my head and raised the mirror. “johnnie.” i gasped. “I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD!” i shook my head. “NO ITS SO GOOD! you have a magic hand.” i smiled setting down the mirror. johnnie smirked at my comment making me hit his shoulder softly.
“okay guys, that’s the end of the video. thank you so much for watching! make sure to like and subscribe, andddd if you want more of johnnie i will have his channel linked down below. say bye johnnie!” i wrapped my arm around his shoulder waving. “baaaiii!”
“i had so much fun johnnie.” i grinned setting my hands on my lap. “me too, i always have fun with you y/n.” johnnie smiled as he played with the necklace. “uh y/n. can i ask you something.” i nodded my head “yeah of course.”
“well,” johnnie hesitated “um i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you lately, and we’ve gotten really close. the more i spend time with you, the more i start to fall even more in love with you.” i blushed placing my hands on top of his. “i feel the same way. ever since i met you i instantly fell for you. i love everything about you johnnie.”
johnnies eyes widened at that, a faint blush spreading on his pale cheeks. “well, what do you say we make it official?” i asked holding his hand. “id love to.”
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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listen- i get this is not helpful at all but i NEED a fic based on the 8th picture (him in front of that wooden door in glasses) with spencer reid x reader 🙏
https://www.tumblr.com/reiderwriter/726627519505301504/photo-dump-2-im-really-in-love-with-him-guys
A/N: I love this pic so much, you don't even know, like glasses??? Hair??? Shirt unbuttoned whorishly??? It's actually criminal. I hope you enjoy the fic!!
Warnings: Semi-public sex, creampie, most of this isn't smut, but it is there, fingering, cowgirl, etc.
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You weren't sure what motivated you to keep your relationship with Spencer Reid to yourself. You just knew that the heat of his kisses was delightful.
On days like today, special occasions where you had him all to yourself with no threat of intrusion, you gave into your little desires, let go of all your tension and melted into his touch, ready to feel all of him as you both basked in your pleasure. 
Rolling your hips into his from the couch  you enjoyed every lazy tun of his lips across yours, each slow caress of your cheek, every pump of his fingers inside you, stretching you out and getting you ready. 
You let yourself get lost in his bites, his licks, just as he moaned at each scratch of your nails against his back. You were so lost and content that neither of you, in fact, noticed the frustrated rings of the Spencer's doorbell, until whoever it was on the other side pounded against the door with a forceful knock. 
“Come back to me quickly,” you reluctantly parted from him, taking the opportunity to catch your breath as Spencer donned his glasses and straightened the part of his shirt that remained buttoned. 
Moving to the door, Spencer scowled in dissatisfaction. Cracking the door open, his face immediately drained of blood as he took in the face outside of it. 
“About time, pretty boy. I've been out here ten minutes trying to get you to open up.” Morgan sighed, exasperated. Suddenly thankful that he'd only cracked the door, Spencer narrowed it a little further, knowing that your body would be in direct view of anyone standing in the doorway with a clear eye line. 
“What are you doing here?” He questioned the man, willing his body to lose the tension in his voice before Morgan suspected something was off.
“Rossi's pasta night. I drive you every time, don't tell me you forgot.” 
“I'm feeling a little under the weather. I think I picked up the flu in Seattle last week.” He coughed for effect, though the resulting eyebrow raise didn't exactly bolster his opinion of his own acting skills.
“You are looking a little pale, but you're also sounding very suspicious. Spencer, if you're using again, you know we'll get you the help you need.” 
“I appreciate it, Morgan, but I'm not. Just the flu. I promise.” 
“That last unsub really did a number on you, huh? I knew he landed some punches, but I didn't think he'd bruised up your neck and chest like that.” 
For a minute, Spencer stood confused before he glanced down at his near bare chest, trailing a hand down certain areas you'd paid special attention to moments before. His mind blanked as he searched for an excuse, completely forgetting that Morgan had just given him a perfectly reasonable one. 
“Well, anyway, take care of yourself, kid.” With that, the older man sauntered away, leaving Spencer to close the door behind him and thank whatever logical higher power there was that he didn't ask any further questions. 
He practically threw himself back into the living room and into your arms as he pressed himself into you once again, not planning to leave until you'd shared ample satisfactions with each other. 
–X– 
“So they're definitely fucking, right?” Emily sipped her wine as she finished her pasta dish, Penelope to her left and Morgan to her right as they gossiped about their beloved teammates. 
“You should've seen it, Emily. The kid was covered in lipstick and hickeys and couldn't even give me a reason why.” With Rossi and Hotch away packing up the leftovers, the three more fun members of the team had been left to JJ's careful watch. 
“The three of you should drop it. They'll tell us when they tell us. We shouldn't pry.”
“It took me a month to learn Y/N's first name. I thought I'd forgot it and was wandering around trying to get her to say it, only to find out she'd never told any of us, and you think she's going to be so forthcoming with other personal information?” Penelope pouted, still sore about your slightly chilly welcome to the team. 
“I'm just saying maybe we shouldn't push it. They're both our friends, and they're obviously enjoying the sneaking around.” 
“I suddenly recall Miss Jareau here also sneaking around and being secretive a while back, with a certain Mr LaMontagne.” Emily smirked at her friend across the table, silencing the other woman with her teasing and earning her a humorous eye roll. 
“How much of that wine have you had, Emily?” Hotch asked, stepping into the dining room once again, a tense frown set against his stern features. 
“Half a glass. We have a case?” 
“Unfortunately. I'll call Y/N and Reid. Go pick up your go-bags.” 
“Hotch, wait!” Morgan called out as the man started typing the familiar digits into his phone. “I'll get Y/N and Reid. I have a feeling I can kill two birds with one stone with this notification.”
–X– 
The feeling of Spencer buried inside of you was near perfection, as you rocked your hips into his, grinding down on his cock as you rode him. Never a fan of giving up complete control, Spencer kept a tight hand on your hips, controlling your pace and keeping it disastrously fast as you found your release above him. He continued feeding you pleasure as he worked himself over the edge, to happy to be meeting you in your bliss. 
Another interruption found you before you could catch your breaths, though, and the pounding at Spencer’s door was back again. Somehow, it was even louder this time. 
“You're on top. Can you get that one?” He panted underneath you  and you nodded quickly, hissing slightly as you pulled yourself off his cock, watching your shared arousal spill out. Cleaning yourself up with the towels he'd prepared earlier, you pulled on the closest item of clothing to you and made your way to the door. 
Your biggest regret, had you been asked, would most likely have been the decision to forego pants. As you swung open the door to Spencer’s apartment, you were met with three shit-eating grins. 
“Y/N, wonderful, just who we were looking for.” Emily smiled and teased as Penelope tried her best not to burst into laughter. Morgan’s expression was the mirror of Emily’s, as he joined in the teasing. 
“That shirt looks better on you than it did on Spencer earlier, I'll give you that.” 
You subconsciously wrapped it around yourself more, again cursing your lack of foresight. You'd grabbed Spencer’s shirt and pulled it on like a dress, despite the fact that you weren't so much smaller than the man himself, just shorter. 
“What are you all doing here?” 
“Hotch sent us to get you. We've got a case. Shipping out in 1 hour. Do you have your go-bag, or do you just leave enough supplies here to be able to make the drop from here?” Emily continued, mixing business with the pleasure of poking fun at you. 
It seemed that Spencer in his post-orgasmic bliss had made the same mistake as you had as you felt a set of arms wrap around you from behind, a warm presence at your back as he lifted an arm to tilt the door slightly more ajar than before. 
He'd at least had the decency to throw on pants, though. 
“Spencer! I'm so glad you could join us! How's your cold?” Emily barked with laughter as she took in Spencer’s guilty, frozen expression. 
“There's a perfectly good explanation for this.” He stuttered, putting a slight bit of distance between the two of you but not fully letting you go as your friends struggled to wipe the smiles off their faces. 
“I don't want to hear an explanation of anything you did in their, kid. I already know about the birds and the bees.” Morgan laughed as he started his retreat from Spencer's doorway, the two women following suit. 
“For your consideration, I'd make a wonderful godmother.” Penelope shouted as she followed her best friends out of the building. Emily lingered a few more seconds, though, still grinning. 
“You have about an hour to come up with an excuse, though, if you'd like. Hotch says wheels up in 60, gives you time to get your story straight.” With a wink, she was gone, and you were once again closing the door to the world and turning into Spencer's embrace. 
“That went… as expected.” You whispered as he nuzzled his head into your hair. 
“Honestly, I'm just surprised it took them this long. You'd think after a year of us sharing motel rooms, one of them would catch on.” 
“You would certainly think so. You certainly would.” 
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levilxvr · 3 months
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here are some of my sfw modernau!levi headcanons in no particular order :)
cw: none
starting off with his phone: levi’s lock screen wallpaper is a picture of you and him from one of your holiday trips. The homescreen is some random unglam he took while you were doing chores in the room- and no matter how many times you tell him to change it he insists on leaving it as that.
Levi loves seeing you in his clothes, particularly his shirts. He just thinks you look adorable in them and something about you wearing his clothes makes him feel things. He doesn’t even care if he catches you in his favourite shirt or his most expensive jacket- what belongs to him belongs to you too in this house.
He’s all about quality time and making sure you always feel loved! At the end of every day levi never fails to set aside a minimum of 30 minutes of cuddling before bedtime. Doesn’t matter how packed his schedule is or how tired he feels. No letting you fall asleep on your own, he has to be the one hugging you to sleep.
Ok fine, he just really loves playing with your hair and talking to you about his day. Spending alone time with you amidst the chaos and busy events of the day grounds him and gives him peace <3
This man has all his hair products custom ordered online. It’s one of those websites where you do a whole survey and they analyse your hair type and recommend certain products that match your needs. For levi he’s been using their moisturising + strengthening range so his silky locks stay healthy and strong. (It smells rlly fresh and sweet too so that’s a bonus)
Lord, he’s such a good chef. (based on experience btw) He’s the kind of man to make breakfast every single morning without fail, and there’s an entire meal plan for the week on the fridge door. Of course you guys split the work and take turns cooking, but every morning breakfast is made by him. You’ll be waking up to the smell of his fresh banana bread or croissants every day, sometimes with a side of berry parfait and fruits if he’s got more time.
He knows exactly how you like your coffee or tea as well. Ever since you started dating him he’s been taking note of your orders at cafes so he can figure out your favourite ones. Then he recreates them for you based on online recipes so you can enjoy them for free every morning :)
Oh yes, I almost forgot to mention his cactus collection in the kitchen. Levi loves purchasing them from those little street markets every now and then since they’re cute and easy to maintain. There’s a ledge on the kitchen window where he’s got a few tiny pots lined up in a row. Sometimes you walk in while he’s cleaning the dishes and hear him talking to the cacti about the most random silly things lol. His favourite one is the round puffy cactus with a little red flower blooming on the side.
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inkskinned · 1 year
Text
something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else
Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!
Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!
☆ gender neutral reader
Soobin
You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.
"Yah, what's that smell?”
You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”
"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”
"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.
Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.
This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.
"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.
Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."
Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.
The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"
Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.
Yeonjun
When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.
"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."
He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"
"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."
His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"
You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”
Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”
Beomgyu
Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.
You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.
"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.
"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"
He pouts. "You smell like not you."
Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."
You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."
He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"
He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.
"Thank you," you say tiredly.
As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."
Taehyun
Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"
He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.
"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"
Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."
You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.
"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.
Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"
Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."
Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.
"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.
You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."
He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?
Huening Kai
He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.
You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”
“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”
“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.
“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.
Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.
“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.
"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."
Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.
Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."
You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"
The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."
written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form
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luveline · 5 months
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hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!
thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡
—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem
You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 
Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 
No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 
Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 
If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 
Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 
Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 
Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 
Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 
You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 
A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 
“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 
“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 
You freeze up. 
The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 
Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 
“Come have some breakfast.” 
“I'll write her again.” 
“After breakfast.” 
“What if she doesn't come?” 
“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 
“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 
Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 
You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 
Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 
“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 
“What?” Arthur asks. 
“Who?” a younger voice says. 
A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 
“Mum,” one whines. 
“Come on now.” 
The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 
You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 
“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 
The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.
Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 
Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.
“Come in, then,” Remus says. 
“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 
A startle of silverware against china. 
Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.
Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 
“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 
You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 
So. It's a relief to be home. 
You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 
“I'm fine. I am.” 
He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  
You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 
Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 
Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 
“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 
“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 
He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 
“Not just give up.” 
“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 
You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 
“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 
“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 
It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.
You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  
“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 
“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 
“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 
Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 
“I miss you too,” he says. 
You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 
I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 
But Lily–
Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 
“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 
“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 
You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 
“What?” His eyes are dark. 
“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 
“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 
“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 
He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 
“I don't.” 
“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 
You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 
“You're still beautiful.” 
“Mm. You can't even see me.” 
“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 
You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 
He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 
You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 
“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 
“Then we'll do it.” 
“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 
I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 
“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 
“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 
“Not like that,” you laugh. 
He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 
You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 
“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 
You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 
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