#but that means putting something together that's heavy for the first time in a long time

[arachine]

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 

“You tried any dating apps?” 

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 

“Right…” 

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 

“Come in, hon!” 

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.” 

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 

“I don’t know…” you trail. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter. 

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 

To fall in love 

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do 

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.” 

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.” 

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 

Soon, that silence is broken. 

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 

“Shit!” 

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

© arachine 2023

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt) #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

[mcdynamite]

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #first kiss #cw: weed #stranger things #i'm so normal about them

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans smut #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #steve rogers #nomad steve rogers #nomad steve #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #nomad steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark chris evans #dark! steve rogers x reader #dark fic #fanfiction #steve rogers fic #chris evans fic #chxrrys fics!

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫���� 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!

#pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #pain hustlers #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson

[luveline]

how about some domestic stuff of post-prison reid and stripper!reader??? that one fic broke my heart in the best way

Prison changes a lot of things about Spencer, so when you get back to his place after a quick run to the grocery store and find him packing away some of his things into boxes, you're not alarmed. “Spring cleaning?” you ask, stepping around him carefully where he's kneeling by the TV stand. 

“Making room,” he says. 

He must have bought something. You put your tote bag in the crook of your arm and bend a touch to kiss his cheek, his hair brushing your face. “You have so many things, Spence, you need a storage locker. You need two.” 

He feels blindly up your arm. 

You put the groceries away, wash your hands, and cut some veggies. You season them and put them in the oven to roast, calling Spencer to see what he wants with it. “You could have the leftover chicken, or I can make, like… anything you want, actually. Pork chops, or maybe forget that and we'll have pasta, I can frankenstein the– Hey, Spence? You listening?” 

You're not mad. He's always been prone to deep thought, but usually he isn't looking straight at you while you talk. “Spencer?” 

“You'll move in with me, right? If I ask?” 

You wring your hands. “You've asked me a hundred times.” 

“But this time, you'll say yes.” He's staring at you. He already knows. 

“You can at least pretend to ask me.” 

Spencer closes the box in front of him. “Please, move in with me. I can't spend that long away from you ever again.” 

“You see me almost every day when you're not working.” 

He shrugs, smiles. “It's not enough.” 

You sit on the couch. He leans over his box to hold your leg. Spencer's asked you a bunch of times, first because he worried about your safety, then because he felt it was a good option as his friend, and then again because he loved you. And you always said no because you didn't want to depend on him, and because some nagging voice in the back of your mind kept telling you he'd realise he didn't want you as soon as you got close enough. But it's been a long time since you thought that way, and his stint in prison emphasised how badly you need each other. 

“So, it'll be equal?” you ask in answer. 

“I'm not saying that. The rent is ridiculous, and you didn't sign up for that, and I have no idea where we'll put all your clothes. But it'll be half yours, absolutely.” He looks especially happy though apprehensive; he hasn't realised you don't need convincing this time.

“I want to bring my pink lamp for the bedroom.”

Spencer's smile changes his entire face. Puppy dog eyes turn thinner, his lips part, his perfect teeth like pearls. “I want you to bring the pink lamp. Bring everything. No one will ever understand our decor.” 

You sink down on the floor in front of him and nudge aside his box for a hug. He gives it to you, and, in a slightly uncharacteristic move for him, he cuts the embrace short to kiss you soundly, his hand on your cheek. He kisses you again and again until you're laughing into his mouth. 

“Does this mean you'll let me propose?” he asks softly. 

Your breath catches. He doesn't sound particularly put together himself, bringing his second hand to your face, holding your forehead to this. 

“I don't think it's something I have much choice in,” you say eventually, your smile audible and immovable. 

You get to say yes or no, but his wanting to ask is all on him. He's flustered you unexpectedly, and the quiet laugh coming from what feels to be the deepest recess of his chest tips you over. You dip down into his neck slowly, hiding away in the curve of his shoulder as his arms come heavy behind you. 

“All I could think was how much stuff I didn't get to say to you, or do with you,” he says. “If they couldn't clear my name, I kept thinking about how much time I wouldn't get back.” 

You breathe out in a rush against his neck. “But you're out.” 

“Yeah. I am.” He strokes your back. “Lucky me.” 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[moonstruckme]

I would love to see something from the beginning of poly!marauders relationship where they are figuring out that they all want to be together and learning how to make it work. I’ve always wondered how their relationship would start!

Thanks for requesting my love! It took me so long to get to it, I appreciate you being so patient with me <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Sirius is playing with Remus’ fingers, and you’re trying to figure out if the ache of longing in your chest is some relative of jealousy. You don’t want it to be. Remus and Sirius are your friends, and you’re happy that they make each other happy. And honestly, looking at them now, with Sirius’ leg slung over one of Remus’ and Remus’ long fingers in his grasp, you’re not sure which one of them you’d trade places with if you could. 

Things have gotten…complicated, lately, though none of you are talking about it. Two weeks ago, James had kissed you, and you’d really, really liked it, but you’d felt obligated to confess your confusion to him. You do like James and want him to kiss you, but you can’t help feeling guilty for also harboring feelings for two other people at the same time. It wouldn’t feel fair to start something with James, who deserves all the best anyone has to offer, if you feel like you can’t be fully in it with him. 

And of course you’d known he’d be cool about it, but you hadn’t expected him to truly understand. He’d told you that Remus had kissed him back before he and Sirius had gotten together, and James hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other boy either. Neither of you had quite known how to move forward in light of your admissions, but you’d agreed to put things between the two of you on hold for the time being. 

Then just yesterday, you’d been walking to class with Sirius, and he’d accidentally brushed your bum with his hand. The zing you’d felt was probably more a nervous response than anything else, but it had felt markedly different from the icky feeling you’d gotten when boys had touched you without your consent before. Sirius had been quick to apologize, and you’d waved it off, but you’d seen the look in his eyes. You aren’t usually one to flatter yourself by presuming anyone might have feelings for you, but the attraction in his gaze was unmistakable. 

You’d said anything to anyone about that, but even now, when he’s half atop his boyfriend, Sirius’ eyes keep flitting to where you’re working on your homework. 

“Anyone started on the potions essay?” Remus asks. 

“No,” says James. “Have you?”

“No.” 

You and Sirius both make quiet sounds of agreement. 

It’s silent again, the only sound the gentle scratching of pen on parchment. 

“Alright.” James sets his pen down with a thwap. “What’s going on with you guys?”

You look up, and he’s staring right at you. 

“What, me?”

“Everyone!” James shakes his head. “No one is talking to each other. Did something happen?”

You press your lips together, but Sirius blurts, “I told Remus I was into Y/N.”

James blinks, looking about as shocked as you feel but without the added embarrassment. You wish, not for the first time, that you could apparate straight out of Hogwarts. 

“It’s fine,” Remus says. “We’ve sorted it.” He gives you a kind look. “Don’t look so nervous, love, I wasn’t upset. It’s not like we don’t all have thoughts about other people sometimes.” 

Sirius looks unsurprised, and you gather that was a part of the conversation they’d already had, but James nearly chokes on air. 

“Do you?” he asks. 

Remus flushes, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around Sirius’. “Sure. Sometimes.” 

James and Remus’ gazes are locked, a sort of heaviness building in the air between them, and you hurry to dispel the tension. “I mean, you’re all very good-looking,” you laugh. “It’d be impossible not to notice each other.” 

Sirius seems on board with your plan of levity, falling easily into his default flirtatiousness. “Yeah, gorgeous? Do you notice as well?”

For a second, your mouth works without sound, your thoughts flittering about your head like frenetic butterflies. You’re sure your face is turning a humiliating pink. “I—I mean, like I said, it’s hard not to.” You clear your throat. “You don’t get to be the golden boys of Gryffindor for nothing.” 

“And here I thought it was our brains.” Sirius grins, letting you out the trap he’d unintentionally ensnared you in. “Well, if we’re known for our looks, then it makes sense why you’re part of the group too.” 

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but you don’t miss Remus’ tiny nod of agreement. 

“Wait a minute,” James says, still looking between the lot of you like he’s refereeing a particularly perplexing tennis match. “So…Sirius and…who all here likes who?”

You go mute, as do the other boys. 

James nods, and he’s sticking his tongue in his cheek like he does when he’s nervous, but the set of his brows is resolved. “Okay, I can go first. I fancy each of you.” 

You look over at Remus and Sirius, but neither of them appear as shocked as you’d think the profession would warrant. Sirius opens his mouth like he has something to say, then shuts it again. 

“Trust me, I feel very weird about it,” James goes on anxiously. “I just wasn’t sure—”

“No, it’s alright.” Remus leans forward slightly, looking like he would reach out and comfort James if he were close enough. “I’ve…I’ve had similar thoughts.”

Sirius has ceased his toying with Remus’ hand, but he doesn’t let it go, looking down at their joined fingers. “Me too,” he says, not quietly but noticeably lower than his normal half-shouting volume.

“I never…I don’t really understand it all the way,” you admit. “But I think I like each of you too.” 

There’s another agonizing silence. Remus starts to brush his thumb gently over Sirius’ knuckles. 

“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” you say finally. “I see you two together, and I’m not jealous at all. But I like you both.” You look over at James, and your face hasn’t cooled at all, but it gets a new wave of heat now. “And you, too.” 

James gives you a little smile, and it’s like he can’t help himself, reaching over to give your shoulder a tiny squeeze. 

“I don’t think,” Remus says carefully, “that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, it’s not like any of us doesn’t like anyone else, apparently. Just…what do we do about it?”

You and James exchange a look, but this suddenly feels like something you shouldn’t intervene in. You’re both single, but Remus and Sirius aren’t. 

“Well,” Sirius drawls with a nonchalance that’s definitely forced but so familiar that you’re grateful for it anyway, “if it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to date.” 

“You are dating,” you point out. 

Sirius shoots you a mocking look. “Date all of you, smart-ass.” 

James lets out a little laugh, and you smile a bit at Sirius’ brashness. The both of you look to Remus. 

Remus only shrugs as if you’ve asked him to comment on the weather. “S’alright with me.” 

James really does laugh now, the loud, hooting sound you love so much. “It’s alright? You really do know how to make someone feel special, Moons.” 

“Fuck off,” Remus laughs. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Um, that we’re the most attractive people you’ve ever seen and nothing would make you happier?”

“Well there you go, James. You’ve said it for me.” 

The laughter dies out, the new awkwardness of more-than-friends settling over the four of you. 

“Well shit,” Sirius says after a minute. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “You’re the only ones who have been in a relationship, what do you guys do?”

Sirius looks at Remus, and Remus looks back. 

“What do we do?” Sirius whispers to him. “Do we…we go on dates sometimes, yeah?”

Remus nods, one corner of his lips twitching amusedly. 

Sirius turns back to you and James, nodding decisively. “A date,” he announces. “Pick you all up in, uh, our common room at eight?” 

“Eight is good for me,” James says, grinning so hugely you can’t help but smile with him. “Now, if we’re all done being weird—Y/N, lovely, could you help me with this charms homework? I’m dying over here.” 

You scooch closer to him, peering at his parchment and wondering if now you can stop cataloging all the places your bodies touch, your shoulder brushing his upper arm. 

“It looks fine to me,” you say after a moment. 

“I know, sorry” James replies, leaning into you so that the warmth of his arm seeps into your skin. “It was a charade.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders one shot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom

[astrayzmoa]

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Genre —> Fluff

—> what it's like being in a relationship with them.

ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃・୨୧・ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃

YEONJUN

• He's so cutie

• loves having at least a hand on your thigh or around your waist bc it makes him feel at ease

• it's also js a natural reflex to just swing his arm around you or sum

• I can see him liking physical affection; or just any affection at that tbh

• he's just so opening loving especially to you so even if your love language isn't physically affectionate it's not a problem to him at all

• I believe his love language is a little bit of everything but more heavy on gift giving, quality time and physical affection.

• he loves gifting you stuff, he has the money and he may not always have the time so gifting you something he knows you'll like or heard you said you wanted is a way to show you that he still cares

• quality time because he knows y'all can't always be together because of his schedules and stuff but he tries

• anytime he can he'll send you a quick text to check up on you or a quick I love you text, maybe call for a few minutes or a quick visit on his lunch break to you

• physical affection because idk I feel like he's so cuddly, esp when he's sleepy or it's been a long day, a long time since he's seen you (like after tour for example).

• he lets you glam him up

• like...full on you can dress him how you like, makeup, heels, cute hair clips, babe have fun he's just happy to be there and that you're happy

• happy you = happy Junnie

• he's also a guy who would stare at you in such a lovesick way just in full adoration staring at you

SOOBIN

• soft giant

• yeah, he's tall asf but he's so gentle and sweet

• he was shy in the first month or two in the relationship before getting more comfortable with initiating things first n stuff

• if y'all were good friends before dating I think he'll be a little less shy, but not by much. Just a little more confidence

• he gives you piggyback rides, sometimes you don't have to ask like, if your feet hurt from walk or sum he'll gladly put you on his back or tell you to get in his bsck

• I think his love language is quality time and gift giving

• just being in the sa room as him doing your own thing, vibing

• or clinging to each other and talking, or just clinging to each other doing your own thing

• gift giving because I think he wants you to remember he loves you even if he can't always verbally tell you

• he's shy leave him alone😭

• he's trying to get better at words of affirmation tho so it's ok

• tucks you into bed and kisses your forehead, tell me I'm wrong you can't.

BEOMGYU

• It's definitely never boring

• the dates? Always spontaneous

• like..it can be a random afternoon on Tuesday and he'll just start getting ready and you have no choice but to follow him lol

• it could js be a walk, walking to nowhere in specific and if y'all find a cafe or a store you guys haven't seen before best believe you guys are going to explore that shit lol

• not all dates ofc, some are planned and romantic

• teases you a lot and is very playful but knows when to stop

• he doesn't over do it, usually just to get your attention tbh

• and this boy almost always wants your attention but it's okay bc you love him

• loves putting your hair in little ponytails on the top of your head on each side and literally pouts so much if you try and take it out or complain about it

• he giggles and is happy tho so ig it's worth it

• I think he sometimes try and wake up a little earlier just to spoil you; gifts, food, ur fav snacks and drinks and some new clothes or orders lots of stuff from online websites just to surprise you

• ofc there are moments where he knows to be serious or to calm down and enjoy the moment together w you

• he's the sweetest and is just v playful, pls be kind to him.

TAEHYUN

• he may seem cold or mean ig but he's so gentle and nice like he is the dream

• he's okay with physical affection but it's not his favorite, doesn't mean he'll complain or try and get you off if you initiate some from time to time though

• when sleeping, he will cuddle you because that's how he gets good sleep at night so enjoy it babes

• words of affirmation and quality time

• hes good at telling you words of affirmation, compliments and even tho he says I love you in special moments, he still tells you things to let you know he does love you, so much.

• I feel like quality time is obvious; I think he's more kept to himself but can be very fun and expressive at times

• spending time with you in the same room is something he likes doing

• it's comfort to him just by you being near him or beside him

• loves going places with you even if you've been there multiple times before. He just wants to be with you even if it's walking for ten minutes

• he writes cute & short notes to you before leaving for work usually because he leaves and wakes up earlier then you

• he DEF has a memory box of the things you've gifted him to cherish

• he adores you and loves you so so much, he trusts you and you're his first priority; over his work too.

• idk guys he's a keeper

HUENINGKAI

• soft giant pt.2

• memory box of things you've given him pt.2

• you guys gift each other plushies and stuffed animals bc it's like a cute little thing y'all do

• def keeps the stuffed animals/plushies you give him somewhere special separate from his plushies

• physical affection, words of affirmation

• he loves to cuddle, hold hands, kisses, hugs, literally anything he adores you

• he's so sweet and kind and gentle and soft ARUGH OTL

• he is the golden retriever bf

• really likes telling you how pretty you are or how he thinks your hair looks cute that day and expects you to also give him compliments

• actually, you better give him compliments and love him with all your heart bc he worships the ground you walk on so pls take good care of this big baby he's a sweet thang

• never had a bad word towards you or raises his voice at you

• I can see him sometimes trying to wrestle you a little but it's so gently it's just cute and y'all are a giggling mess

• JS LOVE THIS BOY PLS HE DESERVES THE WORLD

#txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt reactions #txt headcanons #taehyun fluff #taehyun x reader #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x reader #soobin fluff #soobin x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai x reader #tomorrow x together headcanons #txt fic #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt x you #txt x y/n #yeonjun x y/n #soobin x y/n #taehyun x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #hueningkai x y/n #txt drabbles #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts #yeonjun soft thoughts

[thewulf]

Through the Years || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Aaron Hotchner x reader, It will be like 2 moments in different years... like the first time little Jack is comfortable enough around reader to call her mom... and the other one teen Jack not taking her grounding while Aaron is away and screamimg at her something like "You are not my mom"... Read Rest Here

A/N: This was tough to write. But overall very sweet. We love a good teenage melton.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader, Jack Hotchner x Stepmom Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

TW: Yelling, intentional hurt, Jack being mean lol

Year Six: Jack’s Question

The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the cozy living room as you and Jack sat together on the couch, surrounded by an array of colorful crafting supplies scattered across the coffee table. Glue sticks, markers, and construction paper formed a creative mess as the two of you worked on a project together, a rare moment of tranquility in the chaotic life of an FBI agent's family.

As you guided Jack through the steps of creating a handmade card for his grandmother's birthday, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked up at you with a mixture of admiration and affection. His small hands moved with determination, mirroring your own movements as you carefully cut out paper hearts and glued them onto the card letting him guide how he wanted the card to turn out.

"Y/N?" Jack's voice broke through the soft hum of conversation, tentative and uncertain. He shifted back and forth on the couch letting whatever was on his mind eat away at him for the time being.

As Jack's voice broke through the soft hum of the television on, you turned your attention back to him. He looked so nervous that you could only put the supplies down and focus solely on him. "Yeah, Jack?" you replied, your voice soft and encouraging.

Jack shifted nervously beside you, his brow furrowing as he wrestled with his words. You could see the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the weight of his question heavy on his young shoulders.

"Can I... can I call you Mom?" His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with hesitation and longing.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, your heart soaring with joy and disbelief. It was a moment you had dreamed of, hoped for, but never dared to expect. Not so soon anyway. You and Aaron had been seeing each other for just over a year. And yet, here it was, unfolding before you in the most unexpected of moments.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at Jack, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion welling up inside you. You wanted to gather him into your arms, to hold him close and never let him go, to shower him with all the love and affection he deserved. But you also knew that this moment was about him, about his courage in voicing his feelings, his desire to forge a deeper connection with you. And so, you swallowed past the lump in your throat, your smile widening with genuine warmth and love.

"Of course, you can, sweetheart," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I would be honored."

As the words left your lips, a weight seemed to lift from Jack's shoulders, his face breaking into a radiant smile that mirrored your own. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your crafting adventure, you felt a profound connection form between you, one that transcended blood ties and was forged by love and mutual respect.

Jack let out a sigh of relief, his smile widening as he leaned into your embrace. "Good, Daddy said I could," he explained, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and validation.

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, grateful for Aaron's support and understanding. It meant the world to you that he had encouraged Jack to express his feelings, to embrace the bond that had grown between you. "Your daddy is a smart man," you replied, your voice tinged with affection as you ruffled Jack's hair affectionately. "And he's right. You can call me mom whenever you want. You can also call me Y/N. Whatever you want kiddo."

Jack beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling with happiness as he settled back into his seat, a sense of contentment settling over him like a comforting blanket. In that moment, it felt as though the world had shifted, the connection between you and Jack deepening with each passing second. And as you returned to your crafting project, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

Year Fifteen: Teenage Turmoil

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated Aaron Hotchner's cluttered desk as he typed away on his laptop, the faint clicking of keys the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. It was Friday night, the end of a long week, but for Aaron, the work was far from over. His eyes flickered to the clock, noting the late hour. Jack should have been home by now, safely tucked into bed. Anxiety gnawed at him as he tried Jack's number once more, only to be met with the unwelcome sound of voicemail. He would give it until 12:30 then he was going to be calling Penelope to locate his young son. He didn’t want to be overbearing but he couldn’t help it. Not with what he’s seen, what he’s had to deal with.

In the living room, you paced back and forth, your heart pounding with worry. Each passing minute felt like an eternity. With every unanswered call, your concern grew tenfold. The clock on the wall mocked you, its hands moving relentlessly towards midnight. You too knew how dangerous it was out there. But you couldn’t lock the kid in. He’d resent the both of you for the rest of his days if you did that.

Finally, the creak of the front door announced Jack's return. Relief flooded through you, quickly replaced by a surge of frustration as you caught sight of his nonchalant expression. "Jack, do you have any idea what time it is?" you exclaimed, unable to keep the edge from your voice.

Jack's eyes flickered to you, irritation flashing in their depths before he masked it with a careless shrug. "Relax, I lost track of time," he retorted, tossing his jacket aside without any regard for how stressed both you and his father were.

Your temper flared. "You were supposed to be home over an hour ago! Do you have any idea how worried we were?" As Aaron remained in his office, you and Jack were left to confront each other alone, the tension between you palpable.

He shrugged again before attempting to make a break for his room.

"Jack, please," you implored, your voice trembling with concern. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. It's not just about breaking curfew; it's about communication and respect."

Jack's eyes narrowed, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. "I don't need a lecture, Y/N. I'm not a kid anymore."

Your heart sank at his dismissive tone, but you refused to back down. "I know you're growing up, but that doesn't mean you can disregard the rules we've set. They're there for a reason, Jack. We worry about you when you're out late, especially when we can't reach you."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You worry too much. I can take care of myself."

Your frustration bubbled to the surface. Your voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about taking care of yourself, Jack. There are awful people out there and…”

Jack's demeanor shifted, his expression hardening with defiance. "You're not my mom, Y/N. You don't get to tell me what to do."

His words cut deep, a pang of hurt flashing across your features. "I know I'm not your biological mother, but I love you like you're my own," you admitted, your voice wavering with emotion certainly not expecting the conversation to take such a turn so quickly.

Jack's jaw clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Yeah, right. You're just trying to control me like everyone else. Well, news flash, it's not gonna work."

Your heart shattered at his harsh words, the weight of his rejection crushing you. "I'm not trying to control you, Jack. I just want what's best for you," you pleaded, tears welling in your eyes despite your best efforts to push them away.

But Jack's frustration boiled over, his voice rising with each word. "Stop pretending like you know what's best for me! You're not my freaking mom! You can't tell me what to do!"

As Jack's explosive words hung in the air, a heavy silence descended upon the room, filling the space with tension and uncertainty. Your heart felt as though it had been squeezed tight in your chest, the sting of Jack's rejection still raw.

A gasp came from your mouth as you tried to form any sort of coherent sentence. "Oh, I'm... I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and you found yourself at a loss.

Jack's eyes widened, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he took in the impact of his own words. For a moment, he seemed unsure, caught between his anger and the weight of what he had just said. And then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, Aaron appeared in the doorway. His expression a mix of concern and disappointment. His presence seemed to ground the room, his steady gaze sweeping over you and Jack.

"What's going on here?" Aaron's voice was calm but firm, his eyes never leaving yours. He saw the watery tears that threatened to spill over at any second. He heard the tail end of the conversation and knew exactly why you were so devastated. You saw Jack as your own child and for him to say something so deeply hurtful left you reeling.

You struggled to compose yourself, the turmoil of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Jack... he... I don’t… I need to go," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you turned and fled towards the kitchen, unable to even look at your stepson or Aaron in that moment. You felt utterly embarrassed. Like you hadn’t been loving that child for the last ten years of his life. Did he really feel like that or was he just lashing out?

In the living room, Aaron's expression darkened, his jaw clenched with restrained anger as he watched you leave. The weight of Jack's hurtful words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their father-son relationship.

Jack shifted uncomfortably; his eyes fixed on the ground as guilt gnawed at him. "Dad, I didn't mean..."

But Aaron's patience had worn thin with his moody son. "Not now, Jack," he interrupted, his tone stern. "Right now, I need you to think about what you said and why it was completely unacceptable."

Jack swallowed hard, the gravity of his actions sinking in as he met his father's unwavering gaze. "I know, Dad. I messed up," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse.

Aaron's frustration boiled over, his voice taking on the commanding tone he used when interrogating suspects. "You think you can just say whatever you want and there won't be consequences? You hurt her, Jack. You hurt someone who cares about you deeply, and I won't stand for it."

Jack's eyes widened, the full weight of his actions crashing down on him as he met his father's intense gaze. "I-I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to..."

But Aaron cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Apologies won't cut it this time, Jack. You need to understand the gravity of your words and the impact they have on people." As Aaron continued to reprimand his son, he couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. He knew he had to find you, to make sure you were alright. With a final stern look at Jack, he turned on his heel and headed towards the kitchen, his footsteps heavy with concern.

As he entered the kitchen, his heart sank at the sight before him. There you were, hunched over on the floor, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Without hesitation, Aaron crossed the room and knelt beside you, gathering you into his arms.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "You're alright, I've got you." Aaron felt a pang of anguish as he held you, his heart breaking at the depth of your pain. Gently, he lifted your chin, guiding your tear-filled eyes to meet his own.

"Honey," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "Listen to me. You may not be Jack's biological mother, but you are his mom in every sense of the word."

You shook your head weakly, unable to comprehend his words through the haze of your despair. "But I-I..."

"No buts," Aaron interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. "Every day, in every action, every moment of love and care you've shown him, you've proven yourself to be his mother. You've been there for him, supported him, loved him unconditionally. That's what a mom does. That’s what you are, sweetheart.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you, a glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness of your despair. "But Jack said..."

Aaron's expression softened, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. "Jack was angry and confused. He didn't mean what he said. And even if he did, it doesn't change the truth. You are his mother, my love, in every way that matters."

As his words sank in, a sense of warmth enveloped you, the weight of your anguish easing with each beat of your heart. In Aaron's arms, you found solace, reassurance, and a renewed sense of purpose. You leaned against Aaron's chest, letting the last of your tears fall, a sense of peace washed over you. His comforting presence wrapped you up in his warm embrace, grounding you in the certainty that together you’d be just fine. “Thank you.” You whispered as he held you in his embrace.

Aaron held you close, his hold on you a silent promise of unwavering support and love. "Anytime, honey," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of chaos. "We'll get through this together."

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the kitchen, and you looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway, tears glistening in his eyes. His expression was wrought with guilt and remorse as he hesitated, unsure of how to approach you.

"Y/N," he began, his voice choked with emotion. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I just wanted to hurt you, but I didn't mean it. I didn’t mean it at all, I promise. I need you! You are my mom! Please don't leave me." His words came out quickly as he wiped away his own tears.

Your heart shattered at Jack's raw confession, the depth of his pain washing over you like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, you opened your arms, inviting him into the embrace. Aaron backed off letting the situation between the two most important people in his life play out.

Jack rushed over and threw his larger frame right into your arms You wrapped him up tightly as he let his own cries out. The weight of his own words crashing down on him in the instant he saw how much he had hurt you. He was just a kid, of course you could forgive him. "It's okay, Jack," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. "I know you didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm not going anywhere."

“I can’t lose you too.” He let out a whimpered cry breaking your heart even further.

Tears streamed down your own cheeks as you held Jack close, the weight of his words settling over you. "You’ll never lose me, Jackie," you reassured him, using his old nickname, a sign of the deep love you two shared for each other.  "I'm here for you, always. Always and forever kiddo."

Jack's sobs began to subside as he clung to you, finding exactly what he needed in your embrace. "I love you. I’m so sorry." he whispered again. His voice filled with sincerity.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you gently pulled away to look into his eyes. "I love you too, Jack. It’s okay. I forgive you." You said again, reassuring him.

He nodded, relief flooding his features as he buried his face in your arms once more, the weight of guilt slowly lifting from his shoulders. "You are one of the best things that's ever happened to me," you continued, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "Other than your father," you added with a playful grin, feeling Jack's chuckle rumble against your side. He gave you one more squeeze before pulling away. The remorse still heavy on his face. Carefully, you brushed the stray tears away from his face showing him the love that the both of you needed.

As Aaron joined you both in the kitchen, his presence a reassuring anchor, you shared a smile, knowing that no matter what life threw your way, you would be okay. For truly these two were the best things that had ever happened to you.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @fictionallifestuff

#aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #jack hotchner #x female reader #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds

[avocado-writing]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to overhear his gn crush saying how they're sure it's unrequited love as much as they love HIM?

OH so soft! yes absoloutely, enjoy!

Astarion

now to be fair. he is a bit smug to overhear that you love him.

but he's also... touched? that you, lovely you, would feel that way about him?

obviously he's been trying to seduce you and everything, but he's pleased to hear that it's worked, but why does he feel so warm? happy?

maybe he waits until a casual moment between the two of you, when he feels like he can confess and it isn't too heavy, and he just lets out a little "I love you too, you know."

you stop. he can hear the way your blood pumps.

"...oh..." your eyes are wide, looking at the floor.

he takes your hand and it makes you look up at him, and then he brings you in for a kiss.

he can feel how relieved you are. and he's so happy to be part of something real, something requited.

Gale

overhears you and wants to say something about it immediately, but won't interrupt in person...

so he just uses a Sending instead.

"I hope you don't mean that, because I am desperately in love with you. only a fool wouldn't be."

you freeze and your eyes flit over to where he's standing, face as open as a book with his love for you.

you excuse yourself from your conversation and he follows, seeing how embarrassed you are, you tell him he wasn't meant to hear you, you just had to get it off of your chest...

he takes your hand and pulls you in for a long kiss. if you won't believe his words, maybe you'll believe his actions.

you melt into him. just melt, and the two of you stay together like that.

longest that Gale's been quiet for ages...

Wyll

he does interrupt, because he can't stand to hear you talk about yourself like that.

asks for a private word.

takes you to a seculded location and sees how uncomfortable you are, tilts your chin up to look him in the eyes, wants you to see the sincerity when he speaks.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I did not love you. I do, in fact. most ardently."

he will tell you about the moment that made him fall in love with you, all the things you do that make him fall a little deeper every day.

as he speaks he watches the way your body relaxes, your eyes get hopeful.

when he finishes speaking you press your lips to his in a kiss, and it's the sweetest first kiss imaginable.

Halsin

he's an old elf at this point. he hasn't got the patience to let you wallow in uncertainty.

if he hears you say you love him, and he feels the same, he will let you know immediately.

finds an excuse to have the two of you be together. maybe to gather firewood.

when you're alone he will instigate physical contact - brushing your hair out of your face or something like that

when you respond positively, he will move to cup your face, look properly into your eyes.

"my heart. I need you to know that whatever you feel for me, it is reciprocated a hundred times over. you make my blood stir in a way I had quite forgotten..."

you should kiss him now. he will return it. the two of you will spend some time alone together in the forest, getting to know each other more intimately...

Dammon

oh, Dammon. he's so shocked.

him? you love him?

wants to make a big gesture but doesn't know how. probably asks Karlach for advice.

in the end he smiths you a special piece of jewellery and gifts it to you the next time you're together alone. maybe he even invites you on a date specially!

he tries to get to the point about how he feels but rambles on... eventually you reach out to hold his hand and it gives him courage...

he gives you the jewellery and sees your eyes light up. he offers to put it on you. fingers linger on your skin.

"you know, I lov..." "I know, Dammon. I know."

you can't stop beaming. he's never been happier.

Rolan

annoyed!

why can't you just be upfront with him about this! he obviously loves you back!

oh... loves you? hmmm. that's news to him. but of course he does! you're brilliant! how can't you see that?

has a couple of drinks one night for courage and then goes to find you. it is not an eloquent confession.

"I overheard you the other day! and I want you to know I feel the same way! about you! love, that is >:("

you stand there, fucking bamboozled, before dragging him in by the collar for a kiss.

he smiles so hard and you can feel it as your lips meet.

"silly boy," you sigh, fondly, and kiss him again before he can complain.

Zevlor

another old man who doesn't want to waste time.

he loves you. of course he loves you. there's no point hiding it, if there's a chance the two of you can be happy.

when he has a spare, quiet moment with you, certain nobody can overhear, he speaks sincerely.

"i do not know what I could offer which would make me worthy of your love, but I swear I will work every day until I am."

oh, he is so sweet. you collapse into his arms for a kiss. your strong, brave paladin <3

#Zevlor x reader #zevlor bg3 x reader #Zevlor x tav #dammon x reader #damon bg3 x reader #Dammon x tav #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #Gale of waterdeep x tav #Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #my writing #Long post #bg3 imagine #Gale x reader #Gale x tav

[d1xonss]

Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Pretty When I Cry

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 4k

AN ~ This is a very cute idea. I've been wanting to write something for season 1 Daryl because he's just such a cutie pie, but I didn't really have any good ideas. Though I think if he were to ever snap and "be mean" it would surely be in the beginning; his sassy era lol. But thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

In an instant it seemed like, all of humanity was completely flipped upside down. You were on your way to work when the chaos all erupted, dead people coming back to life and the military taking matters into their own hands. Bombing places left and right even if that meant killing the ones who weren’t infected. The entire thing shook you more than you were ever willing to admit, after all, you were more fragile, soft and clearly not built for whatever the world was suddenly turning into.

But to your surprise, you made it out alive. Traumatized, sure, but alive.

You seemed to count your blessings every single day since then, thankful for every little thing that had happened to you since. Luck seemed to shine down upon you as you weren’t alone for long, finding a small group camped out in the high mountains merely days after everything went down. They all welcomed you with open arms, clearly taking a liking to your kindness and wanting as many people to come together as they could get. After all, it’s all that was left of the world. People you could rely on.

You grew to love the tight knit group, forming friendships with people you never would’ve guessed you’d meet in a million years. You also tried to keep yourself busy, wanting to be as useful as possible and provide what you could for the others. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you simply wanted to. Things like cooking, collecting berries and mushrooms, doing laundry, anything you could find to help contribute. 

Something you seemed to be ashamed of however, was that you couldn’t really do any of the “heavy lifting.” You had never fired a gun in your life, that alone narrowed down the list. Not being able to stay on watch, not being able to hunt, and…not being able to take care of the dead things that sometimes wandered all the way up here. At first, the thought of you being weaker than the others never even crossed your mind. It was only brought to your attention when a certain man began to poke fun at you because of how small he saw you.

Merle Dixon was a grade A asshole to put it bluntly. Ever since he and his brother showed up to be a part of the group later on, he had made it his mission to annoy and harass you whenever he saw the opportunity. You couldn’t figure out why you were his main target, his main source of entertainment, but you could only guess it was because he always got under your skin in a way he was able to see. That, and he tended to make you cry. He even gave you a nickname because of it after a while, one that you absolutely hated. And he knew it too.

Although Merle was someone you couldn’t stand, his brother Daryl however was…different. He could still be snappy and hot headed just like the other one you supposed, but he had never acted that way towards you surprisingly. His main target was Shane, and honestly, who could blame him? There were many times where the man would take things too far and Daryl would put him in his place, unaware of the watchful wide eyes that watched the interaction. He never seemed to care, wanting to tell everyone how it was without a single ounce of regret. You sort of envied him for that small little thing.

You had never stood up to anyone in your life, always too scared of the outcome and you hated being yelled at more than anything in the world. So it was safe to say you avoided confrontation at all costs. Clearly, as you hadn’t found the strength to stand up to Merle since he got here. But though neither of the brothers particularly cared for you, you were still kind to them just like you were to everyone else. You didn’t miss how the others in the group would almost look down on them in a way you couldn’t understand, so you wanted to be the one who provided just that little bit of kindness. It really went a long way, or at least that’s what you believed.

Though you had to admit, it was a little difficult sometimes. There were moments where you just wanted to yell in frustration, curse at Merle for how he always treated you and how Daryl typically sat there and did nothing. But you always managed to cool off, reminding yourself that they most likely acted like this because of something from their past. Something they couldn’t control. Who were you to treat them differently because of that? It was hard to stay strong at times, but in the end, you always seemed to send them a small smile.

You currently busied yourself on just the outskirts of the camp past the trees, finding and picking a few berries to bring back seeing as the group was running a bit low. And every bit of food counted these days. Your gaze stayed down as you chose the ripest ones, placing them in the little woven basket you brought to gather as many as you could for the time being. Though upon your hunt for different kinds of plant based things you could eat, your eyes happened to catch a mere glimpse of something colorful a few feet away.

To your surprise, it was a small patch of wildflowers growing together, each a different beautiful color and only a reminder to you that the world wasn’t completely dead. There were still many beautiful aspects along the way, even though a bit of hope may be lost, it was little things like this that brought a smile to your face. So you decided to wrap it up, bring back the things you’d collected along with picking one of the small flowers, putting it behind your ear for now to take back and put in your tent with the rest of your things. You had the idea of pressing it into one of the pages of a journal you kept.

You then found yourself slowly trailing back towards the site, almost dreadfully as you could predict what was coming next. You could practically hear it in the back of your mind like it was burned into your memory. Merle’s phantom voice echoed in your mind, knowing he would most likely call out to you the moment he noticed your presence reenter the space. But again, you reminded yourself to just try and be kind. It was the one thing you were best at.

Slowly but surely you made it past the treeline, and only about eight seconds passed before you heard a loud wolf whistle from your left along with the same booming laugh. Like he amused himself or something.

“There she is!” he called from the space in his and Daryl’s separate camp away from the others, “It’s weeping willow.” he smiled widely in hopes to get a reaction out of you.

You sighed as you sent him a small smile, “Still not my name Merle.” you reminded as you just tried to walk past him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. He easily stepped in front of you to block your path, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Close enough.” he waved off, “Besides, I wanna see what you so kindly brought back for me.” he said before quickly snatching your basket out of your hands.

Your eyes slightly widened as you tried to grab it back, but he pulled it away faster. “Merle.” you huffed as you attempted to reach for it again, but he only moved it away quicker. Every move you made, he would make as well, purposefully keeping it from you as he started to walk backwards for you to follow.

Like dangling a damn carrot in front of your face.

Your frustration grew as you continued to follow and reach for it as he laughed, watching your attempts and fails. You could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up in embarrassment now, sensing Daryl’s eyes watching the interaction as he made a few bolts by the small fire they had set up. He sat there still, doing nothing as per usual as he watched the interaction unfold right in front of him.

“Merle, please. It’s for the group.” you tried as you reached for it again.

But he pulled it out of your reach as you stood face to face, “Well, I’m a part of that group ain’t I? I think I deserve this just as much as the next bastard. Unless of course you have a different opinion bout that…” he trailed off as his smirk grew.

You sighed, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s for everyone.” you clarified kindly.

The man only laughed at you, and you quickly began to feel the familiar lump forming in your throat, trying desperately to swallow it down and not let your emotions escape. It was obvious you were sensitive, but also having to fight the same fight over and over again, it got old quicker than you would admit. You could hardly stand these interactions anymore without at least tearing up a little at his teasing and taunting.

Finally after having enough, you reached out quickly and managed to snatch the basket back from him in one quick motion, placing it on your arm as your brows furrowed a little in frustration. Merle’s eyes widened a bit at the fast unexpected action, before he started smirking all over again once he caught the expression on your face.

“Oooh look at that. I almost got ya to snap.” he poked as he swayed a little clumsily on his feet, most likely a little drunk or high would be your best guess.

Sighing to yourself again to calm down, you shook your head as you knew of his only goal, “I’m not snapping.” you stated calmly.

Though he clearly didn’t believe you, wanting to push you even more. His eyes traveled away from your eyes as he grinned wickedly, pointing to your ear. “What’s this lil thing?” he asked. Your eyes widened a little, but before you could even react, he quickly snatched it away all while pulling your hair a little in the process. 

Your hand reached again, “Merle, come on, please.” you spoke desperately as you moved to keep up with him, before your frame accidentally stepped a little too far to the left.

In a fit of embarrassment and clumsiness, your foot accidentally knocked over a bucket that was sitting a little too close to the fire. The only problem was, Daryl’s freshly made bolts were sitting in there, now being engulfed in the flames. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly scrambled back, watching Daryl instantly stand to his feet in an attempt to save what wasn’t ruined. But it was too late.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed loudly as he bent down to pick up the bucket.

One of your hands came up to your mouth as you couldn’t believe what you had just done, freezing in place as you now didn’t know what to do. You knew you were in deep shit already, but when Merle suddenly paused just as you did, you knew you were royally fucked as the two of you just watched Daryl stare down at the fire motionlessly.

Eventually you found your voice, stepping forward a little to reach out to him, “Oh my God, Daryl I’m so sorry-”

But your words clearly didn’t mean a thing. He slapped your hand harshly away from him as his head snapped up to look at you, a fire of his own growing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with ya?!” he screamed.

You instantly flinched back at his sharp tone, the lump once again forming in your throat as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, “It was an accident-”

“Do ya even know how long it took me ta make those?” he asked angrily, not even bothering to wait for an answer. “Nah…course ya don’t. Cause you don’t do anything around here! Always just sittin in yer own little fairytale, smilin without a goddamn care in the world, when in reality you just fuckin ruin everything!”

His words cut through you like a knife. But not one that was sharp. One that was dull, just sawing back and forth relentlessly and hurting you even more than you could’ve ever imagined. Your eyes quickly filled with tears, not even knowing what to say as he was clearly about to blow up even more with how angry he grew. 

He scoffed once he saw how speechless you became, “Just get the hell outta here.” he spat harshly as he got up closer to your face, aggressively pointing off into the trees.

Tears began to pour down your cheeks at the last of his words, not even wasting another second as you dropped the basket from your arms before taking off in the other direction in a flash. Your chest heaved as you moved quickly through the trees, not being able to get alone fast enough so you could finally let everything out. You almost couldn’t believe the things that just happened, how everything got so messed up after you swore you were making progress with the two of them. But you weren’t. And perhaps you never would, that being something you would just have to accept.

Though finally after feeling like you walked quickly for miles, you came to the clearing of the large quarry, slumping down near the water before you began to sob all by yourself. You let everything out, every built up emotion poured out of you like a rush of water. You could’ve sworn you cried so much that you could fill a quarry of your own, knowing that those emotions were really the only thing you were good at. Crying could be an olympic sport, and you would win first everytime given the chance. 

But that thought only got you thinking more, making you stew over Daryl’s words. Maybe he was right. Anyone could say that it was the heat of the moment, his anger, insults just spilling out of his mouth that were simply not true. But in a way, you knew how true they were. You had to admit that you did feel useless as you hugged your knees to your chest, covering your face as you sobbed even more. You didn’t have useful skills like some of the others, not being able to prove yourself as you truly were weak when it came to a world like this. All you ever wanted to do was be kind, provide for the people you cared about most. But your outlook got ruined in an instant, quickly replaced with a new one that you would surely think about forever.

It was funny, you thought. You once heard Merle’s faint voice playing in your mind repeatedly, but now…you only heard Daryl’s. His insults, his harshness, it was something you never would’ve guessed or expected from him. But now you knew that you had just ruined everything, when all you wanted was to help.

You didn’t know how much time you spent alone, crying off and on to yourself the more you allowed your mind to run, but you could only assume it was a fairly long time. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, the little bit of light that was left shone over the water in front of you, making it sparkle as your tears continued to blur the scenery. You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks over and over again, wanting to pull yourself together enough to be able to show your face again back at camp. But the embarrassment was still weighing heavily, almost a crushing pressure.

But then all your attention was pulled to a shuffling noise coming from behind you, causing you to whip your head around in a panic to see where it came from. Though the sight was more surprising than you could’ve ever prepared yourself for. Daryl slowly emerged from the trees with a hesitant look on his face, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head back in the opposite direction. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to understand why he had come out here. He had already done enough, he made his point crystal clear. You were just silently hoping he didn’t come out here to yell at you again.

Daryl on the other hand felt an immense amount of guilt. His chest tightened a little as he caught barely a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes and your tear stained cheeks, knowing he was the cause of it. He couldn’t describe how it made him feel, but all he knew was he was wishing he could take it all back if it meant not having to see you cry. His brother already caused you to break down enough, he didn’t want to be the cause of that too. And yet, he was.

The man slowly walked up to where you sat near the blue water, the rocks crunching beneath his boots louder and louder as he approached. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you just prayed he would go away, not wanting to interact with him after everything. But Daryl was stubborn, and he didn’t want you out here all night just because you were nervous to come back.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” he said a bit awkwardly, stopping just a few feet away from you. You heard him loud and clear, but you said nothing, not really in the mood to eat. Facing the group after they surely heard the scene that went down, it all sounded like a nightmare.

Daryl sighed heavily as you didn’t respond, you didn’t even look in his direction. Acting as if he wasn’t here at all. “Hey.” he called.

“...Why do you hate me?” you whispered, still not facing him as you spoke.

He almost questioned what you had said, but then it seemed to hit him all at once just how badly he had fucked up with all this. The one girl that showed him a kindness he had never seen, now thought he wanted nothing to do with her from the projected words he spat at her.

He let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily, stepping up a little closer, “I- I don’t…I don’t hate you.” he said quietly.

You didn’t react, so he managed to push himself a little further than what he was comfortable with. He moved to slowly sit down beside you, keeping some distance, yet he wanted you to know he was there. That he meant it. “I don’t hate you.” he said again.

“You act like it.” you were quick to say as you turned your head to look him in the eye, “I…I don’t even know what I did…” you said, your voice quiet and broken.

The man stared at you for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head, “Ya didn’t do nothin…it’s…it’s hard to explain. But I guess I never really understood…why yer so nice. Thought maybe ya just wanted somethin from me…I dunno.”

You shook your head a little in disbelief, “I’m nice because I care…that’s it.” you assured as you didn’t want him to think otherwise. But you supposed hearing his reasoning out loud made a little more sense, seeing as how you truly were the only one nice enough to show your kindness to the brothers. He was skeptical because no one had done that for them before, the thought nearly broke your heart.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, before you were the one to break it, “Listen…I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to ruin what you worked so hard on, it was an accident.”

Though Daryl quickly shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. If anythin, I should be apologizin for what I said. I…I didn’t mean none of it…”

You stared at him with a soft expression, “But you were right…everything you said-”

“Everything I said was bullshit.” he said bluntly, looking at you with a seriousness in his eyes, “I say a lotta stupid shit I don’t mean when m’ angry, and this ain’t no different, ya hear me?”

“But it’s true.” you argued gently before looking back out into the water, “I don’t know how to help out…how to survive in a world like this. I always try to do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

Daryl paused as he saw the sadness behind your eyes, a sudden feeling overtaking him as he wanted to say or do something that would get you to smile again. “Hey, that ain’t true. Ya go out and scavenge, ya help cook the food that’s brought back…ya even helped stitch Glenn up when the dumbass hurt himself.”

His words caused a small laugh to escape your lips as you looked back over to him, “Well I knew he would somehow mess it up even more if he did it himself…I didn’t have a choice with that one.”

“Nah…ya did.” he said seriously, “Ya always have a choice, and I see ya puttin others before yerself all the time. That’s somethin ya should give yerself credit for.”

Your eyes softened the longer you looked at him, a small smile forming on your face just seeing how much he cared. Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud just yet. “Thank you.” you said quietly.

Daryl felt his face grow a little hot as he ducked his head, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “Yeah, no problem…” he muttered before it looked like he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and uh…I brought ya this.” he said before revealing the hand that sat behind his back.

You looked down to see it was the same small flower that Merle took from you, sitting in the palm of his hand as he held it out to you. Your eyes widened a little as your small fingers delicately took it from his grasp. “You got it back?” 

“Uh, no that one was all smushed by the end of…everythin. So I went and got ya a new one…hope that’s okay.” he explained a bit quietly.

Your smile grew as your eyes lit up at the simple kind gesture, one you would have never expected from him. “It’s perfectly okay…thank you.” you said sincerely, raising it up to place it behind your ear.

He nodded a bit awkwardly as he watched you for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “Alright, well come on.” he muttered as he stood back up to his feet, “Best be gettin back.” he spoke, hesitantly extending a hand out to help you up.

His actions surprised you a bit, but that didn’t stop you from taking his hand, letting him help you stand before the two of you slowly headed back through the woods. You half expected complete silence as you walked side by side with him, but he managed to keep a conversation with you as if he suddenly enjoyed your company. Though maybe he always did, he was just cautious as he didn’t always trust people as easily as you did. But you were growing more hopeful as he slowly came around, finding you had to be patient to see how much of a gentle person he really was.

From that day on, you and Daryl had slowly gotten more comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t really call it a friendship per se, but it was something the two of you very clearly cherished. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to change.

Merle’s attitude toward you seemed to have completely flipped from what you had grown accustomed to. He rarely ever spoke to you again after that day, and if he did it was always something short and simple, not an insult in sight. Though you were a little surprised, a part of you had a feeling who changed his mind about you.

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

[greynatomy]

too late

alexia putellas x reader

i know nothing about medical stuff except for the ones i’ve watched on grey’s anatomy

happy valentine’s day i guess

request here

———

The echoes of the heated argument lingered in the air as you paced around your living room. The tension between you and Alexia had reached a breaking point and you have no idea what to do next.

Alexia had left you alone in this big house — which isn’t really anything new — to god knows where. The trophies and medals that lined the shelves, displaying the accomplishments of your longtime partner, stares back at you like souvenirs.

Photographs covering the walls, showing the memories of the love she once held for you. Your fingers tracing the edges of the frame, heart heavy with doubt and sadness.

‘Where did I go wrong?’ You asked yourself.

That was almost three months ago. She had apologized and promised to make changes. The first week was a bliss. She’d wake you up with breakfast in bed, leaving breakfast in the kitchen when she had early training. Random dates throughout the week. You were living the dream.

Then, she won the world cup.

Interview after interview. Appearance after appearance. She was away more times than home. You don’t quite remember the last time you’d both slept in the same bed and woken up together.

—

It was Friday and you were in the kitchen waiting for Alexia to come home from training. You’ve cooked her favorite meal that Eli had taught you to make. You told her you had something to talk to her about so you hoped this meal could lighten the mood a bit.

Thirty minutes had passed so you thought she was just running a bit late.

Then an hour passed.

Another hour after that.

You’ve put away all of the food and prepared a plate for when she gets home to just reheat. Changing into your pajamas, you lounge around in the living room and check your phone. Right when you open up your social media, you were met with videos of your girlfriend and her team at a club.

You try to remember if Alexia had told you if she was going anywhere after practice, but she didn’t.

‘She probably just forgot.’

Hours later, Alexia came home to find you asleep on the couch. She stumbles into the bedroom and knocks out.

—

You’re at home in bed, staring into nothingness. You couldn’t do anything. At least not the things you used to be able to do. Even breathing became difficult.

Alexia was out so much she never noticed how much you’ve changed, how different you looked. She barely spared you a glance. When you do catch Alexia at home, she’s already asleep. You barely notice though because she’s been sleeping in the spare bedroom.

You slowly walk to the kitchen, steadying yourself against the walls. Grabbing a glass, you start to fill it with water when all of a sudden your vision starts going in and out.

Collapsing to the floor, darkness consumes you.

—

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You ask as Alexia walked through the front door.

“I’m not even fully through the door and you’re already asking me to do things?”

“It won’t take long. It’s just something I have to tell—”

“Ay dios mío! I’m hungover and I just want to sleep. Talk to me tomorrow.”

Alexia walks away to the spare bedroom, knocking out instantly.

—

Alexia is at Mapi and Ingrid’s place with the rest of the team for team bonding. Alexia had an arm around one of Mapi’s friends that she invited over, the girl practically in her lap.

“Hey, Ale! Where’s the missus? Didn’t want to come today?” Mapi questions taking a seat next to Ingrid.

“Ooh, yeah! I miss Y/N, how is she doing?” Pina asks, the girl saw you as a big sister.

Alexia tenses, not knowing why. The girl on her shoves her arm off of her, moving to a different seat making Alexia frown in disappointment.

“Uh, she’s just at home probably. I don’t know?” She shrugs.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Mapi asks, eyebrows furrowed. “You were with her yesterday.”

“I was?” Alexia was confused because she definitely wasn’t. She was at some girl’s pla— her eyes widen. “I was! Yeah. She didn’t feel that well so she wanted to stay home. Yeah.”

Mapi and Ingrid share a look but drops the subject.

The team bonding became crazier that it was supposed to be. People were tipsy and Mapi was surprised they haven’t been yelled at by the neighbors yet.

“Alright.” Mapi stands up, catching everyone’s attention. “Me and Ingrid are going to run to the store, grab a couple things cause we’re running low.”

Everyone bid them goodbye, Ingrid following behind her girlfriend.

“We’re not running low on anything.” Ingrid states as Mapi starts driving.

“No, I just needed an excuse.”

“Excuse for what.”

“To check on Y/N.”

“She’s not home though. Told us herself.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to check. And we both know damn well Ale wasn’t with her yesterday.”

Arriving to yours and Alexia’s house, they knock on the door. Not getting a response, they try again, no response.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you home? It’s Mapi and Ingrid.”

After a couple of minutes with no response, Mapi uses the spare key she was given a long time ago. Stepping inside, it was quiet. The place was clean, almost too clean. It didn’t look like someone had lived in the place at all with how clean it looked.

Walking further in, Ingrid looks into the kitchen, finding a glass shattered on the floor. Walking around the kitchen island was a sight she didn’t want to see.

“Oh my god, María!” She immediately lays you on your back, placing two fingers on your neck. “There’s no pulse! Call the ambulance!” She starts slapping your face lightly, hoping to wake you up. “C’mon, Y/N. Open those eyes for me.”

“Here. Move.” Mapi pushes Ingrid away, handing her the phone. “You call for them. Wake up, Y/N. Don’t go yet.” She starts CPR, tears start flowing from her eyes, some dripping onto your face. “C’mon! Just wake up, damn it!”

Mapi doesn’t know how long she’s been doing CPR, but paramedics rush into the house, taking over. Ingrid pulls her into her arms where they break down, missing the looks that the paramedics gave each other.

They drive close behind as the ambulance speeds through the streets of Barcelona. Arriving at the hospital, Ingrid doesn’t bother to turn the car off, rushing to where you were being unloaded.

“What do we got?” Doctors rush out to the ambulance.

The paramedics just give a look to the doctors who immediately understand.

“Time of death…”

“Wait! What do you mean time of death? She-she’s fine right?”

“What’s your relationship to…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. What’s your relationship to Y/N?”

“She’s my friend and I need to know what’s happened.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t give out any information, but I saw she has a wedding ring on. Can you contact her husband?”

“Wife. She has a wife.”

“Okay, can you contact her wife for us?”

Ingrid is the one to make the call. Mapi watches as they roll you inside the hospital.

“She’s on her way.”

Ten minutes later, Alexia arrives to the hospital, walking to where Ingrid and Mapi were now sitting at the waiting room.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell us but they’ll tell you cause you’re her wife.”

“Y/N Putellas. I-I’m her wife and I need to see her.” Alexia asks, no demands when she goes up to the nurse’s counter.

“Mrs. Putellas. I can take you to her body.”

“Body? What-what do you mean body.”

“Just follow me.”

Walking into the room, a bed is seen in the middle of the room, a white sheet covering it.

“What’s this?”

Alexia walks up to the bed, hand hovering over the white sheet.

“Take your time.”

The nurse carefully pulls the top part of the white sheet to reveal someone — you.

“Oh my god.” Alexia gasps, not expecting to see you in this state. Mapi turns around in Ingrid’s hold, hiding her face in her chest, Ingrid also looking away. “What happened?”

“I can help with that.”

Turning towards the door, a doctor stood just outside.

“May I come in?” Not waiting for a response, he walks right in. He walks towards where your lay, staring at your features. “Mrs. Putellas lived longer than I expected.”

“Okay, can we stop being so criptic and just tell me what’s going on?” Alexia was losing patience. She has no clue what’s happening. She was having a great time and now she sees her wife lying dead right in front of her.

“Y/N Putellas, age twenty-eight, was diagnosed with stage four cancer three months ago. There was nothing that could be done as it was caught very late. All we could have done was make sure she was comfortable.”

“But she refused to be admitted into the hospital to make sure that she was still at home for her wife, no matter how much I protested.” A new voice was heard by the door. Your sister. “Her wife that leaves when she’s still sleeping. Her wife who would rather be out partying than notice how sick she was, fighting for her life. Her wife that doesn’t fucking love her!”

Your sister was now face to face with Alexia, finger stabbing her chest.

“No, no, no.” Alexia mumbles. “That- that’s not true. I love her. I do! Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She tried to.” Your sister stated, voice now void of emotion. “She tried and you brushed her off.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Mapi spoke up for the first time in a while.

“Because it didn’t feel important anymore after the many times that Alexia brushed it off.”

“She visited us just three days ago. She was fine.”

“She wasn’t. I think she knew she didn’t have much time left, so she had me drive her around so she can say her goodbyes.”

—

“Alright. Last house.” Your sister stated as she parked the car by the curb.

“Yeah.” You exit the car, slowly making your way to the front door. After knocking on the door, you take a step back. The door opens revealing Mapi.

“Hey, Y/N! What brings you by?”

“Uh, nothing. Is Ingrid here by any chance?”

“Yeah, let me call her. Ingrid!”

Ingrid stands next to Mapi.

“No need to shout. Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“Uh, well.” You clear your throat in anxiousness. “I’m gonna go somewhere in a couple of days and just wanted to see you both before I go.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Just- just to take some time for myself.”

“Well, I hope you have fun wherever it is you’re going.”

You give them a smile. “Thank you.” As they were closing the door, you push it back open, wrapping your arms around Mapi tightly. Your breathing is ragged and you can feel the tears forming in your eyes. “You’re my best friend and you know that I love you right?”

Taken aback, she wraps her arms around you in return. “Yeah, you’re my best friend and I love you too.”

“You too Ingrid.” You now wrap your arms around her. “I’ll miss you both.” You step away, walking back down the driveway, giving them one last smile.

The couple don’t think much about the weird interaction, closing the door as they watched your car drive away.

—

Mapi and Ingrid broke down even more, now knowing that your goodbye was the goodbye.

“Tried to say goodbye to you too, but you were nowhere to be found.” You sister shrugged, getting tired of speaking to Alexia now.

“Why don’t you look depressed?”

“I’ve got to spend my time with her. I’ve had time to prepare for the inevitable.” Giving them all a face, she moves to stand where you laid. “I’m gonna talk to whoever about the arrangements and stuff, I’ll leave you guys alone.”

Seeing how Alexia was unable to take her eyes off of you, Mapi and Ingrid decide to give her some time, leaving the room and closing the door behind them. Now all along, Alexia hesitantly steps up next to your bed, hand hovering over yours.

In the dimly lit room, her voice shaky as she uttered, “I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know if you can hear me, see me, but I never thought I’d see you like this. I never thought I’d hurt you like this.”

She grasps at your hand, squeezing it to stop the tears from streaming down her face.

“I’m too late. Too late. I never realized how good I had it and I see it now. You are— were the best part of me and I was too blind to see it. I took you for granted and I can’t apologize for it.”

The room remained silent, save for the soft hum of chatter outside. Alexia’s heart pounded, waiting for a response that she would never get. Bending down, she gives your forehead a kiss, letting her lips linger for just a moment.

“I’m sorry and I love you.” She whispered before exiting the room.

Arriving at home, Alexia’s emotions finally hit all at once. She couldn’t step any further away from the front door. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The weight of her emotions become too much and the dam finally broke inside of her. Silent sobs racked her body as the vulnerability she had hidden so well crumbled away.

As the tears cascaded down her cheeks, memories of lost moments and shattered dreams replayed in her mind like a haunting film. Each drop carried the weight of unspoken words and broken promises, a wretched reminder of a love that once felt invincible.

The scars on her heart remained, the permanence of lost loves carved onto it, wondering how to face another day haunted by the ghosts of what could have been.

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso community #fcb femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

[astars-things]

"You promised..." with lando. He finally has a day off and promised to spend the day with you but as always he apparently made plans with Max Fewtrell first.

Lando Norris x reader

warning this is very angst so grab the tissues plus swearing

"You promised," I whispered, feeling the weight of those two words sink deep into my chest. Lando had promised me a day a single day where we could just be together, away from the chaos of Formula 1, away from the demands of the world. But just like that he broke the promise and decided to go out and spend the day with Max karting

I sat alone in our shared apartment, staring blankly at the clock ticking away the minutes. The sunlight streamed in through the window, casting warm, golden rays across the room. It was supposed to be a perfect day, a day filled with laughter, love, and stolen moments. Instead, it was turning into a day filled with disappointment and heartache.

I tried to push down the rising tide of hurt and frustration, but it was impossible to ignore. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I replayed Lando's words in my mind. "I promise, babe. Tomorrow's all about us. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

but once a promise is broken once it's hard to trust that those promises stay promises, How many times had I heard those same words, only to be left waiting in the wings while Lando chased after the adrenaline rush of the racetrack?

I wiped away a stray tear, angry at myself for letting him hurt me like this again and again. But despite my anger, there was still a part of me that longed for his presence, for his touch, for the warmth of his smile.

The sound of the front door opening snapped me out of my spiralling mind, and I tensed as Lando's familiar footsteps echoed through the apartment. He entered the room, a sheepish smile playing on his lips as he took in my tear-stained face.

"Hey, babe," he said softly, crossing the room to where I sat. "I know I messed up. I'm sorry."

His apology hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he always put everything else before me. But the words caught in my throat, suffocated by the weight of my emotions.

Instead, I simply looked away, unable to meet his gaze. I felt him reach out, his fingers gently lifting my chin until our eyes met. I quickly hit his hands away from my face, 

"I mean it, Y/N," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I messed up, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it right. Just give me a chance to fix this."

I wanted to believe him, I truly did. But trust was a fragile thing, easily broken and hard to repair. And as much as I wanted to let him in, to believe that this time would be different, a part of me couldn't shake the feeling that history would only repeat itself.

"no Lando I'm done with this, you've done this so many fucking times, promised you were going to do something and then just never do it." I yelled "You pick your friends over me so many times and I'm done" and with that, I walked out of the room we were both in and went to the study where I could process if this relationship is even worth saving. 

#send in requests #imagines #thanks anon! #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1

[politemenacephd]

Dadbod!Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

(+18)

❤️ You offer to cook for Miguel after a long day, and things go awry.

Content: Fluffy start, Implied age gap, Daddy kink, Size difference, Spanking, PinV sex, Creampie, Aftercare.

‘Babe—babe, I swear to— OYE! Off!’

With a soft thwap your raised hand came down on top of Miguel’s, forcing him to retract his fingers. He was trying to steal from the bowl of pre-cooked seasoned chicken breast you’d cut up and put aside.

‘Okay! Alright, I’m backing off. I’m backing off, see?' he promised, though you could hear him chuckling as he licked his fingers behind you. You shook your head in exasperation.

Miguel had come home exhausted after a hard day, so to cheer him up you’d agreed to cook one of his favourite meals. You’d anticipated just a peaceful, domestic night in, but Miguel clearly had other plans.

It was 7pm and you were in your little cosy kitchen together, just you and him in your own little private bubble.

The windows were blurry and splattered with rain as it stormed outside, the world dark and foreboding beyond the misty glass, but in here it was warm. The kitchen was lit with bright orange lights, and it smelled of garlic, spice and fresh uncooked dough.

You were wearing loose sweatpants and an apron over top while you were otherwise shirtless, something Miguel had specially requested. You’d huffed about it at first, but you couldn’t deny his eyes on you were intoxicating. His steely red gaze, the way his eyes narrowed and his tongue crept over his teeth when he watched you from behind, it made your stomach so tight it almost hurt.

So, you feigned annoyance, and you indulged him.

Miguel had also stripped off his sodden work clothes to put on his favourite old t-shirt and loose joggers, foregoing any boxers as he lounged about the house.

It was your favourite outfit to watch him in. His shirt was a little too small and tended to ride up over his stocky belly, creating a cute little window you loved to poke whenever you walked past him, and up top it stuck nicely to his defined shoulders and curved, weighty chest.

Despite the attempt to create a fun, relaxing environment, that kitchen was sweating tension. You felt like you were on a timer.

The moment you turned your back to him so you could chop more garlic he swooped in to kiss your neck, his finger trailing dangerously closer to your chest as he pushed your apron aside. You squirmed as he let out a breathy laugh.

‘Shh- off! Off! Go sit down, old man, before you choke’ you chided.

Miguel let out a low whistle. 'Old man? Really?'

'Mhm. Go. Shoo. I've had enough' you insisted again.

You could hear him chuckling to himself as he leant in against your back. ‘Mi amor, no seas tan malo. Hm? Don’t send me away, I’ll be good. Te lo prometo.’

‘Oh, you promise?’

‘Mhm.’ He snuggled in close with his hands around your waist, swaying you to the sound of the rain as it rattled outside. ‘Prometo.’

Yes, you rolled your eyes at his shenanigans, but you couldn’t help but lean in. You looked so small against him. His pecs on either side of your head were heavy and warm, squishy and thick, and his calloused hands were sweet as they grabbed you. He felt so powerful and yet so soft at the same time.

You sighed. With a giggle you gave in and put down the knife, wiping your hands on a worn tea towel covered in little pastel cats. You reached up to cup yourself a feel of his right pec while he chuckled. The way it weighed in your hand made you giddy.

‘Mm… You’re so annoying’ you murmured.

‘Oh, so touching IS okay, just only when you do it, huh? Good to know’ Miguel spoke with a mock tut as you waved your hand at him.

‘I’m the one cooking! So yes, I’m allowed.’

‘Well then let me help.’

‘Your idea of—helping—’ you paused to again tap his hand away as he grabbed at the pre-cooked chicken, ‘is just eating everything, and groping me!’

‘I mean I feel VERY helped by both those things’ he said. He smiled as he swallowed, flashing those thick fangs beneath his full upturned lips, and you forced yourself to not melt completely. You failed. The feel of his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over your waist got to you.

‘If you want to actually help, then actually help’ you insisted. He noted the little breathless whine in your words and grinned to himself; he knew where this was going.

‘Okay’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’ll help.’

His hands released you and he leaned around instead, taking your little hands in his. He started guiding them through the motions of chopping and pushing aside. You lulled into the quiet, domestic bliss of this moment, listening to the rain and the sound of his breathing, knowing that the knot in your gut would soon put it to an end.

‘You cut way too big’ you noted as he moved.

‘Mmhm, mhm.’ He hummed along with your orders while making it very clear he wasn’t listening, as he continued gently nudging his hips at your rear. You felt a strong heat starting to grow in your cheeks.

‘Mig—you’re, not even cutting anything anymore’ you said. You voice had involuntarily gotten softer.

‘Mmhm.’

His hips moved a bit harder, smooshing you into the hard wooden counter, and this time you felt his bulge push into you. Your face was burning at this point. It took every ounce of strength in you to not moan.

‘You—Miguel, come on. You’re terrible at this, just—let me do it’ you insisted, trying your best to cover up how flustered you sounded.

You ended up pushing his hands aside so you could try to take over, but you didn’t anticipate what being free would do to him. His hand came down and firmly squeezed your right buttock between his fingers and palm.

You squeaked aloud, much to his amusement. He leaned down and whispered into your ear.

‘Yes, chef.’

‘MIG—’

He ducked to the opposite side as you tried to hit him with the spatula, squeezing harder as you tried to get him. You felt the tension rising.

‘Mig, you—ah—’

You involuntarily moaned as he squeezed and spread your ass for his bulge to push into, eagerly giving one sharp grind to your backside. You pursed your lips, but it was too late.

‘Mm… Miguel’ you whined.

‘Ahuh?’

You failed to make a jab at his cocky attitude, and that was enough to let him know he’d won. You were overtaken by the pleasurable throbbing in your clit, the hot pulsing of blood through your veins. You couldn’t help it. He was such a gorgeous man.

‘That’s it’ he purred. He leant in closer as he started to grind. ‘That’s what I want.’

A shaky moan escaped you again as he started to grind harder. You felt his breath stirring against your neck.

‘That’s what I want’ he repeated. You felt him lick his lips.

‘Oh, mi amor… Fuck it—I need you, now.’

Miguel suddenly swiped everything aside with one swing of his huge, muscled arm, leaving the counter bare for him to drop you onto it. He lifted your body was terrifying ease.

‘Ah, Mig—’

You were dropped with your torso face down on the counter, hands spread flat to the surface on either side of your shoulders, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back with just one of his huge hands.

His hips hit you again; you were the perfect height, with your toes just barely touching the floor. He started to push your legs aside.

‘A-Ah—Mig—’

His thumb began to shimmy your loose joggers down. He was painfully slow, letting you stew in the tension as bit by bit you were drawn to nakedness against him. ‘Gorgeous, gorgeous’ he purred.

Inch by inch he slid them, inch by inch, until at last they fell unceremoniously to hang around your ankles. You shuddered as the cold air hit your wet thighs, and audibly gasped as he spread you wider. The cool air hit your bare pussy right as his calloused finger did.

‘Mi amor’ he breathed.

Your leg twitched as he spread your lips, coaxing just the tip of his finger against your clit. Your hips bucked and he chuckled.

‘Just—f-f, be quick, please—’ you panted. You heard him tutting again, but most of all you heard him shifting his feet. He was getting into a more stable position.

‘Okay, okay. Mi amor is impatient. I got it.’

His hand retracted and in seconds you felt the warm bite of his bare skin on yours. He yanked his own loose joggers down and let the thick, wet tip of his cock brush your clit, nudging at it with aggravating slowness.

‘You want quick? Alright, let’s make this a quickie then.’

With a rough grunt Miguel slipped his cock up into your cunt with one smooth thrust, bottoming out in barely a second. You were winded by the force.

You could feel his body was now taut against yours, crushing you hard into the counter. You could feel his muscled, fat thighs against your legs, his balls squeezing against your pussy lips, his pelvis squishing your ass up and his curved belly against your back.

Miguel sighed, hard, and then immediately went into pounding you against the kitchen top.

You lay forward and you took it, letting him unload all of the days stress inside you.

He started out fast and hard, with one hand on your hip over the curve of the counter and the other holding your wrists behind your back. He was grunting hard and breathing harder, open mouth panting so loudly that you could hear it over the rain.

Every two or so pumps he’d let out a sweet, low, husky moan, and you’d tense so hard he felt it.

The sensory overload began to spiral you into a brainless puddle of mewling pleasure. The hard smack of his hips on yours, the soft squish of his warm, thick belly on your back, the sound of skin on skin clapping as his hefty thighs dug you into the sharp counter edge, and most of all the embarrassing squishy noise of his cock bullying your pussy, it was euphoric.

Between the vigorous fucking and the sweet symphony of noise, you snapped.

‘F-Fuck, daddy—’

‘Oh, good, good’ he groaned. ‘Ay coño—say that again, please.’

‘Daddy—’

The word was beaten from your mouth as he thrust you into breathlessness. Every pump of his hips jolted you almost two inches forward, filling you with his thick shaft, and every quick snap back dragged you down with him.

‘Miguel, mm—daddy—’

Your toes tensed and scrabbled against the smooth kitchen floor, desperate for any kind of stabilisation as he threw your body back and forth against the countertop. He was hitting deep, desperately pounding and rubbing against your sweet, velvety cunt. He wanted to feel those muscles squeeze every ounce of stress out of his body.

‘Mm—one more time, one more time, come on—’

‘Daddy, please—’

You could feel sweat beading on his belly and on your back, which turned the erotic smack even more enticingly wet. Sweat dripped down your forehead onto the counter as you screamed.

‘AH—!’

‘You wanna call me old now, huh? Mm, fuck, take it— Take it—'

You started to pant in time with each thrust, a quick and rhythmic beat that just kept increasing in pitch. He was getting harder.

‘Uhn—uhn—uhn—uhn—’

‘F-Fuck that’s it—’

With a dreamy little smirk Miguel grabbed the used spatula and gently tapped your spine, indicating his plan. You moaned.

‘Please, fuck—’

The smack made you scream as he thwacked your right buttock with the smooth side of the wood. You felt his fingers squeezing and petting the little red mark as he continued to thrust, soothing out the sweet pain.

‘Good, good, well done’ he purred. ‘Is that good, mi amor? You want another?’

‘Please, please yes—’

Thwack.

You were drooling at this point, your thick saliva coating the counter in smears. He could feel your legs shaking, your cunt quivering as he thrust into it. You heard him groan.

‘I want you to cum for me’ he panted, dropping into his typical bark of a voice. He was ordering you. ‘You’re going—mm—you’re going to cum on my cock, you got that?’

‘Y-Yes’ you mewled back.

Miguel drew back until his cock was tenderly pushing only about three or so inches inside you. He took one good look here, admiring his veiny shaft slowly pumping in and out of your perfect, creamy little hole, before shifting his free hand down and beneath your belly.

He lay his own hefty body over your lower spine until you were nearly crushed, and he began to stimulate your swollen clit as he pulsed his cock.

Your hips jerked, your feet scrabbling at the floor. You screamed as he tugged on your wrists.

‘There, mi amor, así así’ he praised breathlessly. 'Así así.’

You physically stamped your foot as he drew his cock bath and forth over your g-spot. It was almost too good, too stimulating. Drool pooled and slipped from your wet lips as you pleaded for release.

‘Pl—please, please—p-please—’

You squirmed hard in his vice-like grip, but he wouldn’t let up. He pumped you until you squirted all over his soft, rounded belly, coating his hairy pelvis with pearly strings. He pumped harder.

‘Come on, come on—’ 

You blurted a few gibberish phrases before screaming into your own orgasm, and with a satisfied groan Miguel allowed himself to cum inside you. As you tensed and clenched and quivered he filled you up nicely, pumping rope after rope of hot, thick cum into all the space he could find. You tightened so hard you could feel every vein on his shaft pulsing as it expanded and relaxed.

‘Ah…. Ah, f—fuck….’ 

Miguel drained himself empty and then slowly slipped out. ‘Fuck... I needed that so badly. Thank you, thank you mi amor.'

You were left standing at the counter with shaky legs. The apron was now stuck to your skin by sweat, sticking to every contour, and your thighs were unbelievably wet. You felt something warm slide down your inner thigh to the floor and winced.

‘Ah…. A-ah…’

Miguel came in to kiss the crown of your head. You felt his hands helping to pull your joggers up as he pet your hips, soothing over the little red marks he'd left. ‘Mi amor’ he whispered affectionately. ‘Mi amor.’

You leaned into his touch as he rocked you. His kisses trailed down from your hair to your shoulder, smothering you in post-cum affection. You could feel the sweat on his shirt where it was clinging to his pecs. You giggled internally at how hard you'd made him work.

'Are you okay?' he whispered.

'Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, Miggy.'

'Are you sure?' he insisted. You let out a breathy little laugh.

‘I am, very sure. Well, I mean.... Look, that was, amazing, but—I-I don’t know if I can finish cooking'.

Miguel tilted his head and noted the way your legs were trembling beneath you, and slowly a sympathetic smile spread across his face.

‘Yeah…. Do you, want to maybe just order something in?’ he asked softly.

You eagerly nodded. ‘Yeah. Yeah. Let’s just order in.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #smut #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #+18 or +adult only #dadbod miguel #smut fanfiction

[rainbowhao]

nerd haechan

mature

nerd haechan who can't help but stare at you every lecture like a love-sick puppy

nerd haechan who is a stuttering mess when you approach him, asking to work together on the first project of the semester, because what do you mean he was on your radar?

nerd haechan who wears baggy clothes and hides his pretty face behind long bangs and chunky glasses

nerd haechan who sits on your bed only when you practically shove him backward, telling him to make himself comfortable

nerd haechan who fantasizes about what kind of things you do ontop these sheets, who nearly gets hard when your hand accidentally brushes his while showing him something

nerd haechan who rushes home to jack off, your scent somehow clinging to his shirt as he cums in his fisted hand and all over his thighs

nerd haechan who can't face you after what he's done—continues to do nearly every night—so he avoids you at all costs

nerd haechan who is caught off guard when you whisper something in his ear tucked away in the library, fingers lightly grazing his forearm

nerd haechan who groans when you kiss him with no hesitation, your lips hot and plush against his own like you're not in a public place

nerd haechan who allows your hand to slip beneath his waistband and grip his hardening cock, secretly stroking him under the table 

nerd haechan who can barely see out his glasses that have fogged from breathing heavy and he can't be bothered to wipe off

nerd haechan who is willing to do anything and everything you want, who is more than eager to please you even if inexperienced

nerd haechan who nearly goes to heaven the first time he tastes you when you invite him over to watch a movie one night

nerd haechan who cums in his pants when he eats you out and hides his face in the couch cushion because he's so embarrassed

nerd haechan who makes out with you in random bathrooms on campus, who finally begs to let him fuck you right then and there because he needs you so bad

a/n: i just reached 1k followers! thank you so much! my writing has changed a lot the past year (it's crazy to think that only a handful of months ago i didn't know how to write smut). i hope to put out content that people enjoy and continue to improve with every post.

#haechan #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck #nct fanfic #nct haechan #nct drabbles #nct hard hours #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #haechan fic

[chososdiscordkitten]

Good Boy.

MDNI

Pairing: Sub!Choso x GN!reader Content: SOFT DOM!reader, no plot, just filth, watching porn together (?), use of a vibrator, no penetrative sex, hand job, lube, PRAISE, conditioning(?), readers a lil mean, use of good boy, pup.........ect. multiple orgasms,...power play...., light Bondage (leather cuffs), use of mommy is HINTED, a sprinkle of Sadism, male squirting (?), AFTERCARE!!! Word Count: 4.4k

(a.n) I just about went insane writing this. and I over indulged- a lil too much in this one. (／≧ω＼)

What he sounds like: twt link

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You and Choso had started this routine before sex- wanting him to fully explore what he liked and what he didn’t like. When there was time, you put your laptop between you and him, fully clothed- and watched porn. Not for any other purpose but for research. You found it easier to show him certain kinks and acts rather than explain it with your words. Oftentimes leaving you both with furrowed eyebrows and tilted heads not knowing how people find interest in what was being shown. 

At first this little act before sex was awkward- sure. Oftentimes squirming next to each other when you both found something intriguing, flashing your eyes over to him to see if he saw attraction in it as well. But with time, this became more like studying- preferring to watch it together than watching it alone. Finding humor when there'd be horrible acting, sometimes repeating the corny scripts while making out for a laugh. 

But tonight, you had clicked on one video. It was 10 minutes long, but the first few seconds caught both of your attention. On the screen of your laptop, a man laid on his back. Cock in the air as an exploratory hand came onto screen, carefully grasping onto the base to hold it still. The head of a vibrator coming onto the screen, you side eyed Choso- seeing his adam's apple bob harshly. Looking back to the screen when you heard a quiet whirr start to come from the vibrator. Inhaling when you saw the vibrator circle the tip of the man's cock. 

Usually around the 5 minute mark one of you would speak up- saying a comment to indicate if it was a yes or a no. But you both watched in silence as the man on the screen came, over and over again from the vibrations forced on his tip. When the video neared its end, you clicked pause on the screen, looking over at Choso who was trying to cover the growing bulge in his sweats. “You-” he started, looking into your eyes with parted lips and blushed cheeks.

“You have one of those… Don't you?” he asked, breath caught in his chest as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. You nodded your head, making him inhale sharply.

“Do you-” your breath hitched, ears burning red from the question forming on the tip of your tongue. “Want me to do that- to you?” the corner of your lips curled into a smile.

Seeing him shyly blush ‘yes’ at your question. You hummed quietly, reaching your hand over and closing the laptop. 

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, leaning down to his ear and feeling him squirm beneath you. “Take your clothes off.” You urged quietly with a smile, placing a small kiss to the shell of his ear before leaning over the edge of the bed, hand trying to reach the box that held what you were looking for.

Hearing hasty shuffling as you reached into the box, a triumphant ‘aha’ leaving your lips as you turned around to see Choso in his briefs. You thought of chastising him for it- but instead you used it to your advantage. 

You hummed contently, placing the wireless wand onto the sheets. Looking over his body, making him writhe by feeling your heavy gaze. Taking an inhale, placing your hand to his chest lightly, tracing it down to his torso. Leaning down- noses brushing against each other as you smiled.

“God you're a treasure.” you hummed against his lips, hand trailing down his abs and grazing the band of his bothersome briefs. Choso hummed at your praise, cock dribbling in his bottoms as your fingertips threatened to push past the band.

Pressing an opened mouth kiss to his expectant lips, smiling against him as the palm of your hand brushed against his clothed cock. Pulling away from him and smiling as you caressed him slowly through the thin fabric of his briefs.

“You're already this hard for me?” you hummed contently. Hearing a shuddering exhale leave his lips as the corner of his lip perked up,

“Mhm, just for you.” he exhaled, pressing his lips up to yours with a groan vibrating against you, tongue slipping past your lips with an over excited whimper. 

Pulling away from his lips with a playful tsk, placing your other hand on his bare chest. Holding him down lightly as you looked down at him, nodding your head ‘no’ with a smile.

“Impatient aren't you?” You teased, brushing your thumb over the forming wet spot on his briefs. A small huff leaving his lips at the gentle sensation, bucking up into your hand as you smiled. Choso furrowed his eyebrows, reaching for your wrist. 

“Hurry-” he huffed making you smile at him sinisterly.

“The best part is in the anticipation-” you lectured, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp only for him to tighten it- Pulling you close to him again, breathing the same air as a smile crept onto his gasping lips.

“I disagree.” he hummed, making you quicken the small circles you were making on his clothed tip. Causing him to gasp, releasing your wrist and planting it back onto his chest. 

“I think you're just too eager Cho~” you hummed, seeing him close his eyes as you pulled your hand from his briefs. Taking the hand on his chest and going to pull his cock from the strained briefs.

Making him purse his lips with a sharp inhale, cock standing at attention, ‘just for you’ as he said. Crying silent tears as you smiled, taking the tip of your pointer finger, looking from his pained cock to his expression that tried hiding how excited he was. 

“I'll make you a deal.” you cooed, hearing a choked whine leave Choso’s lips as your finger made light circles on his tip. Leaning down and pressing your lips to his ear, “Be a good boy and I'll be extra nice to you-” you whispered in his ear, making him shut his eyes.

“How's that sound hm?” you asked, already knowing his answer from his soft pants.

“I'm always good-” he gulped, feeling your tongue lick a long stripe on the shell of his ear, you smiled with a huff against him. 

“That's what I'm hoping for.” you hummed, pulling your finger from his tip and trailing it down his shaft. Making a light trail of his precum down the skin. Feeling his cock twitch against your fingertip.

Trailing gentle kisses from his ear to the side of his neck. Softly wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, making him let out a struggled whimper.

Choso’s hips involuntarily bucked up to your hand when you tighten your grip, “Be good.” You hummed against his collar bones, soft goosebumps forming on his arms. 

“I’m-” he huffed, feeling your hand halt its movements, “I’m trying-” he defended with a whine, making you let out a soft giggle, looking at his hands unknowing where to grip, clutching tightly on the sheets as you continued dragging your hand up his shaft as slow as you could. Hoping he'd lose his patience and you'd get to punish him if you kept going.

Feeling the sleeve of your shirt start to bother your slow movements, you pull away from Choso quickly. Making him let out a defeated whine in your absence, slipping your top off and seeing his eyes crack open, scanning your bare chest.

Mentally asking you to take your bottoms off too and forget this tedious scene. Only for his lips to part in amazement as you pulled your cupped hand to your mouth, gathering the saliva you could and spitting it onto your palm, reaching down to his cock and grasping it in your hand. 

Taking a quicker pace as you stroked him, looking down at his desperate expression. A small smile forming on your lips at how worked up Choso got from a few touches, closing his lips tightly.

Trying his best to contain the whimpers that made an embarrassing blush form on his ears. Furrowing your eyebrows at his denial of letting you hear his pretty sounds, you licked your lips before quickening your hand, rolling your palm around his cockhead as he inhaled sharply.

A small tsk leaving your tongue “Lemme hear you pretty boy~” you cooed, making his nose crinkle at the pet name. With a small gasp you felt his cock pulse in your hand, knowing how much he liked your praises.

With one more roll over from your palm, he let out a strangled moan from deep in his chest. Making you grin at his obedience, cracking his eyes and looking up at you, mouthing a soundless- ‘can I cum?’ as your hand sped up.

You smiled, looking into Choso’s big eyes, struggling to hold himself at that edge waiting for you to say the words- his bottom lip pouting as you watched him writhe. Needing to hear the words you had conditioned him to hear anytime he wanted to cum. 

His hands balled into fists with the sheets clutched between them, cock twitching from ignoring his question. You smiled seeing his hips start to shudder from your grasp, “Go ahead.” you smiled with a huff, hearing him let out a soft whine at your words, your hand stroking his shaft faster. Choso’s eyes fluttered shut- hips lifting from the sheets as his body trembled in your hands. “There you go~” you hummed. With one hearty groan, his tip started dribbling small pumps of thick cream colored tears. His chest panting softly, feeling your thumb caress his frenulum. “Wait-” he gasped, taking his hands from the sheets and going to stop your wrist from continuing. Looking up at your unimpressed expression, “Just-” he huffed, shaky hands holding onto your halted wrist. “Just one second-” closing his eyes and relaxing back into the pillows. Trying to catch his breath as you pulled your hand from his cock. 

Hearing him settle his breathing, and look up to you. Smearing an overly sweet smile onto your lips as you looked at him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his temple. “If you can't keep your hands to yourself I'll tie you up.” You smiled, making his eyes flutter closed, mumbling a quiet ‘okay.’ in defeat.

Guiding him to sit up a little more, cock twitching as it awaited your hand again. “Where do you want me?” you asked sweetly, giving him a single thing to control. Choso looked at you with soft eyes, blinking them back to the discarded wand you had left on your side of the bed. “Up here- with me.” he whispered, not wanting to sound demanding, knitted eyebrows knowing you'd be crueler if you couldn't see his face up close. You hummed a quiet response, taking your free hand and pushing a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“One more with my hand then i'll use the wand, kay?” you cooed against his skin, looking at him sweetly as he nodded. 

With a small sigh from Choso’s parted lips, you pressed your hand to his cock again, starting slowly to drag this out as much as you could. Wrapping your other arm around his head, laying your palm flat on his temple as you stroked his cock with the other. Smiling as you felt his head ease onto your chest with a sigh. 

His eyes closed as he felt your gentle hand twist over his cockhead, with a shudder he parted his lips, “F-feels so so good-” Choso moaned with a hic, making warmth pool in your tummy. He placed his palm onto your knee and pressed his fingers against your skin.

Planting a light kiss to his ear, “I know sweet boy, I know~” you crooned, making a tingle rush to his cheeks. Slightly twisting your wrist on the upturn as his hand started gripping harder into your skin. 

A throaty whine left his lips as you quickened your pace, making sure not to work his tip too much so he wouldn't start squirming. “You wanna cum for me again baby?” you hummed, seeing his blushed chest start to heave and his cock pump out a fresh string of precum at your words.

A choked ‘Mhm-’ from his lips as you tightened your grip on his shaft, a few firm strokes on his cock was all it took for the tips of Choso’s fingers to turn white against your skin.

Making sure to keep his head nuzzled close to your chest as he let out a drawn out groan, “I’m- I’m close-” he muttered in the shape of a whimper, you huffed a breath against his ear with a smile.

“Go on then~” you premissed, watching intently as your hand twisted around his tip- with a shuddering inhale his abdomen flexed. Exhaling as his hot seed cried from his reddening tip. 

Your hand unwilling to halt its movements as Choso tried his best to keep his hands to himself. Though there wasn't as much of it as the first time- his seed was still thick, burning with adoration as you kept your pace on his shaft. Back arched and spasming, shameless moans and whines pulled from his chest as you thumbed the edge of his tip. 

Pulling your hand from his jumping cock with a content hum, looking at his expression with an endearing smile. Pressing a tender kiss to his damp forehead, hearing him let out a hum at your softness. 

Slowly shifting from his side, Choso slumped against the wall as you shifted to rest your bottom on the back of your calves. Holding the wand in hand as you scanned the sight before you. Trembling lips as he caught his breath, beautiful blushed cheeks and trailing droplets of sweat. You hummed contently at how you left him from just two orgasms, excited to see how he'd take being over-stimulated. 

“Ready pup?” you hummed, making Choso’s eyes flutter open and his cock to ooze a clear tear at the name. Only nodding his head up and down limply with an inhale. The feigned sweet smile plastered on your face let Choso know that your patience was wearing thin. He saw it in your depraved eyes.

He gulped harshly when he heard the low vibrations from the wand, holding it in your hand. Placing the palm that was previously on his cock back onto his shaft. 

With a wince from his lips you gave him a few shallow pumps, inching the silicone wand closer and closer to his member. Pressing it lightly onto his base to start, earning a small huff from his lips at the light sensation. Trailing it up the bottom of his oozing cock slowly, your lips parting in a small ‘o’ at how pretty the wand looked pushed up against his cock.

“It’s not so bad now is it?” you crooned, Choso looked at your entertained expression with a pout. 

Flashing your eyes to look at him as you rolled the edge of the wand head against his tip, mouthing the words again, ‘Is it?’ making Choso bob his head up and down, “Use your words.” your tone dropped into a demand.

“No- no.” he breathed, feeling you trail the wand back down his shaft slowly, “It's-” he huffed, “It’s actually nice-” he gave you a half smile. Placing his hand back onto your knee and caressing it gently with his thumb. 

Holding your thumb on the button that accelerated the speed, seeing his eyes blink shut softly at the gentle vibration. With no warning you clicked the button. Hearing a louder whirr from the wand in your hand. Choso involuntarily bucked his hips up, making the toy brush against the v formed beneath his cock head.

A choked whimper fled from his throat, easing his hips down in hopes to relax. Not wanting to see if you were being serious when you said you'd tie him up.

Balling his hands into fists to keep from pushing the toy away, but Choso’s hips didn’t listen to his own thoughts. Biting his bottom lip with hot tears brimming in his eyes, trying his very best to focus on not cumming so soon- but all it took was a breathless “Doin’ so good for me-” with an upturn of your voice, not being able to see it but he knew you were smiling.

Thick trembling thighs as you held the edge of the wand to his purpling tip, this time he didn't even show signs that he was close.

Without warning his cock spurt out a good 3 pumps of clearer cum- lips parting in a silent whine as his hips aimlessly bucked up, knuckles turning white from how hard he was digging his fingers into his palms. Moving the wand in small circles on his tip.

Choso’s fists threatened to unball and pull the toy from his oozing cock. He cracked his eyes open, feeling the hand that you planted at his base to keep his cock still applying pressure. He looked at you in hopes his whimpers would be enough to convince you to pull the toy from his tip. 

They weren't. 

He knew it the second you flashed your stern eyes to his face. Knowing his fists were close to unballing, “I don't want to have to tell you again Choso.” you clarified in an unforgiving tone, all but reading what he was thinking.

Choso closed his lips, a hum with the sound of an ‘m’ threatening to form the pet name he only used to win you over. 

He inhaled sharply as you pressed the toy firmer onto his tip. Eyes clenched tightly as he pinched his eyebrows together, with a frustrated whine his hands extended, pushing your wrist away from his cock without thinking.

Cracking his eyes open not feeling the vibrations torture his cock anymore. 

Trembling lips stuttering to find the words to say- seeing the last of the patience you held for him dissolve in your eyes.

“M’sorry!” he huffed, releasing your wrist. “M’sorry I won't do- won't do it again-” he swore, worried eyes scanning your expression. You looked at him- forming sweet smile on your lips giving him hope that you'd forgive him- “I'll be good from now on-” he huffed, “I promise.”

But the darkness in your eyes showed him you were serious about what you threatened earlier. Placing the toy callously on the bed, not caring if it dirtied the sheets.

Leaning over to his face, taking the hand that held the toy to his warm cheek, thumb brushing away the tear that fell from his eye. “S’okay,” you assured quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his plump lips. “It's okay.” Shifting your knees back, standing from the bed calmly as his eyes followed you. Reaching into a drawer, calmly searching for the tool you've been itching to use. Choso gulped watching the aura around you turn dark, hearing the clink of metal in your hands as you turned around. 

Worried eyes looking at the black leather cuffs in your hands. If you weren't a lil sadistic, you would've put them on him since the start, knowing he has grabby hands and a tendency to squirm.

You kneeled back on the bed, looking at him softly, your expression a firm contrast to the aura you had around you. Choso swallowed harshly, accepting the punishment you inflicted on him. 

“Take your briefs off.” you demanded, and he did as you asked. Not wanting to push you further. 

Back flush against the wall, cock leaking from the sight of you holding those cuffs like a crazed person. Choso looked away from you, shaming himself as he reached his wrists out to you. Obedient as he was- this was needed.

Choso held out soft fists as his wrists rubbed against each other. “Awe-” you let out a tsk, “Don’t pout Choso-” you cooed, buckling a wrist into the snug cuffs, making him avert his eyes from your quick working hands.  

Tugging the strap to make sure he wouldn't be able to remove them, the short chain making you grin. With a forceful tug you pulled him close to your face, “Your cock is telling me how much you like this.” You whispered, making his blush deepen and his pupils to dilate even further. 

Shimmying out of your own bottoms that had been bothering you since the start, his eyes followed your movements. Trying to figure out what followed next. When he met your gaze, he dropped his head, looking down at the mess of his leaky cock that betrayed him by telling you how he really felt.

You looked over at the discarded wand, knowing this wand business would be fruitless. Looking at his cock for a solid second as you thought of how to fully overstimulate him.

Choso didn't like that you were taking a second to think. He didn't want to imagine what you were conjuring up in that pretty little head on your shoulders. With a smug smile you reached into your nightstand, reaching the small bottle of lube that you knew would do the trick. 

Holding it in your hand as you kneeled above his thighs, looking down to his fearsome expression that made the sadist part of your brain itch.

“You love me Choso?” you smiled, eyes soft as you coaxed a soft huff from his chest.

“With everything I have.” He looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pouting lip showing you just how much he meant it. Easing down his thighs as your bottom pressed against them. 

Now straddling his lower thighs, to fix that little squirming problem. Straightening your back as you cracked open the lid of the lube, “You're always so sweet to me.” you smiled, Choso’s eyes followed your hands, squeezing a plentiful amount of the slippery substance onto your cupped hand.

Choso made sure to listen to your tone, “Even if I'm a little mean to you,” a toothy grin on your lips, almost in disbelief. 

His hands were placed softly on his tummy, the short chain clinking as he tried to hold his hands back.

Pressing your slick hand onto his cock, seeing him squirm from the sudden sopping liquid that leaked down his shaft, he let out an appeased huff from his chest. Feeling your hand give him a few gripping strokes, “You like me even if I'm mean?” your tone sounded pleased with the state you put him in. 

The question sounded irrelevant to him, if he could think straight he would've asked himself ‘how is that even a question?’ but at the moment Choso trying to focus on the wet squelches that invaded his ears.

You gave his shaft a few firm strokes, waiting for him to answer. “Yes-” he breathed, “I lo-” your palm brushed over his tip quickly making him let out a high pitched whimper, “I love y-you even if-” he tried his very best to form the unfiltered sentences that oozed straight from his heart. 

“Even if your m-mean.” He finished, making you let out a pitied ‘awee.’ slowly tightening your grip on his lathered cock as his moans became clearer.

“My sweet boy.” you enunciated the pet name he all but cried for. “I think you like when I'm a little mean.” you whispered, brushing the ridges of your cupped fingers over his tip as the cuffs clinked at his lowering wrists.

His thighs trembled beneath you, his shivering lips that spewed out whimpers and whines mouthed one thing that made your cheeks tingle, ‘I do-’ and with those two words, you felt merciful, no longer wanting to tease him, you cupped the head of his cock, loud squelches coming from your hand as you swished your palm on his cockhead.

He did a good job in keeping his hands to himself, inching them further up his chest as various throaty groans left his lips.

“There you go~” You smiled, “Good boy.” you cooed, Choso’s bottom lip quivered. Threatening to curl into a smile at your praise, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Pride swelling in his chest knowing you were pleased with his restraint. 

A whine huffed out of his mouth when you quickened your palm, the warmth from your ass making it very hard to concentrate.

His shoulders shuddered, mouth opening with a jagged exhale. “F-fuck-” he practically forced from his throat, throwing his head back as you worked his poor tip.

The corner of your lips curling into a cruel smile as his back started arching. Hips trying their best to not move below you. Only for your hand to refuse his soft pleads, unknowing what he himself was asking for. ‘pleasepleaseplease’ The back of his head tilted onto the soft pillows, mouth hung open in a silent moan as his lower body started bucking up.

“S’okay sweet boy-” You cooed, knowing he was waiting to hear the special words, “Cum.” you spewed, seeing his pearly teeth tug his bottom lip between them and squeeze.

“Cum for me Choso.” You huffed with an entertained smile, making his cock to twitch in your palm. With a loud groan his cock gave you a few spurts of clear liquid.

Sloshing against the copious amount of lube you had purposefully used. Your hand was persistent- not even working him through his orgasm. If anything, immediately pushing him to the next one.

He muttered various pleads of ‘wait-’ and a slew of jumbled words, but you could only make out one, ‘please.’ If you thought he could take it- you’d tease him with a sly ‘That doesn't sound like a safe word.’

Only for those pleas to go into one ear and out the other, smiling happily at his chest heaving and his hips trying. Trying to escape your ruthless hand, the other planted on his lower abdomen firmly, ready to push off any attempts at pulling your hand away again.

You admired your work with an adoring smile, seeing the tears spill from his closed eyes and his hips moving recklessly. Face scrunched together as he used every effort to not call you the name that was on the tip of his tongue.

Working your fingers to the ridge of his cockhead, not wanting him to get used to the circles you made on his tip. Your thumb moving up and down gently on his frenulum. Giving him a brief second to catch his breath.

Only for your trailing thumb to reach over and rub harsh circles on his tip. His body started spasming, not being able to feel it- but his shut eyes and bucking hips told you he reached that pinnacle once more, kindly gifting you another with knitted eyebrows.

Turning your fist over his tip, wrist flipped over as you slowly pumped him. Choso’s knees bent quickly, pushing your ass up along with them, now inches away from his expression.

Being able to feel the heat radiating from his searing skin soak into yours, “If you wanted a kiss you just had to ask~” you hummed, firming your grip on his tip, leaning in and pressing your parted lips to his. The lube descending down his shaft, making a mess of his emptying balls and the sheets below him.

Giving his all trying to kiss you back, tongue in his mouth slotting against yours sloppily as you hummed. His whimpers spilling onto your tongue as he took heavy breaths from his nose. Pulling away from him as your palm cupped around his tip once more, looking up close at the expression you fought tooth and nail to see. 

You couldn't help but smile, “Just one more-” you demanded, “I know you can do it for me.” your tone was more urging, making him buck his hips up- almost simulating he was fucking into you.

His bound hands started reaching for your wrist weakly, so very close to the point you were getting him to. 

Only for his bound shaky hands to press atop the hand you held on his tummy, assuring you that what you were doing wasn't a cruel punishment. 

With one throaty groan, his wet eyelashes opened, looking into your eyes as he inhaled a heavy breath. His cock twitching violently in your palm, feeling the last orgasm he could muster drip out of his overworked tip into your slowing hand.

Panting softly as you pressed your lips to his again, being able to feel his heartbeat pumping against your chest, planting a gentle kiss to the side of his lips.

His eyes fluttering shut as your hand pulled from his cock, trailing kisses on the side of his face, placing a lasting one on his side burn. “You did so well-” you smiled softly, earning a mindless hum from his closed lips.

“M’so proud of you Choso.” you cooed into his ear, making goosebumps form on his arms from the praise. 

Straightening your back and looking down to the mess you made of him, hazy eyes looking back up at you, his skin dropping in temperature little by little. Shifting off of his limp thighs and untucking a clean edge of the sheets, placing it on him as he eased himself up to sit up.

“How're you feeling, hm?” making sure to keep a soft tone, his lips curled into a warm smile, nodding his head weakly “M’okay.” you hummed at his response. Leaning over slightly and placing a kiss onto his forehead, seeing him ease back into the wall with a blissful expression. “Hands please.” you smiled, seeing his cheeks blush at the reminder of the cuffs. Hesitatingly he raised his wrists, watching your hands slowly undo the silver buckles. Scanning his wrists and seeing there weren't any marks. In the moment he expected to see light indents but his skin was as untouched as you meant it to be. “I'll get you some water okay?” You whispered, placing the cuffs onto the sheets with the discarded wand and easing off the bed with a spring in your step as Choso mumbled a small ‘okay’.

Stopping at the bathroom quickly, plugging the bathtub drain and turning the knobs, pouring a tiny bit of foaming soap into the water, sitting on the ledge as you checked the temperature. Humming quietly as you walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. Walking back to the bedroom and seeing Choso waiting for you patiently, eyes lighting up when you walked through the door. Seeing his easing hand reach out to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as his hands clasped the glass and drank slowly. 

Watching him intently, “Hows a bath sound?” You hummed, glimmering eyes blinking to look at you. Holding the glass in his hand as he leaned in to kiss you, welcoming him with soft hands on his shoulders.

Batting his eyes open to look at you gently, “Sounds really good.” he murmured, placing the glass on his nightstand as you eased off the edge of the bed. 

Holding his hand as his wobbly legs stepped off of the bed, making sure to hold his hand tightly as he took an exploratory step, assuring himself he could walk. 

A few stumbling steps before you reached the cold tile of the bathroom, hand in hand as you eased him into the tub. Seeing the bubbles engulf his lower half, crouching next to the white porcelain as you looked at his blissful expression.

“M’gonna clean up okay? I'll be quick.” you muttered, scanning his peaceful expression as his eyes closed, ‘mhm’ he hummed as he eased his shoulders into the rising water. 

You tried to be quick, stripping the bed and throwing a few stray blankets from the closet onto it. Sitting bare on the bed as you cleaned the tools you were thankful for. Making sure to put them where they went before slipping off your panties and walking back into the bathroom, Choso looked like the epitome of peace. 

Turning off the knobs of the bath and looking down at him, seeing him crack his eyes open and smile. Tilting your head and raising your eyebrows to get him to scooch forward, for him to comply. Stepping into the warm water and easing down behind him, feeling the ends of his wet hair press into your chest with a sigh. 

Pressing your damp hand to his temple and a kiss to the back of his head, “I love you too.” you smiled, placing your hand onto the edge of the tub, only for his hand to follow. Caging the top of your knuckles with his as he clutched onto you tightly. Basking in the warm silence that hung in the air.

-

the cigarette I lit as a reward once I finished this was insane.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

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[rottendollface]

Pots of kinks.

Character: Jacob Alden.

Warnings: NSFW, female reader, established relationship, Jacob is older than reader, both protected and unprotected sex, slight BDSM, breeding kink, creampie, heavy obsessive behavior, oral sex (+ rimming), shibari, CNC, mention of drugging and keeping hostage, mention of psychological violence, voyeurism and photo shooting without consent, tantric sex, 18+.

Author's note: I made a list of my favorite kinks, and for some reason, I believed in myself and decided to draw the pots by hand. It was a mistake, and they look horrible, for what I apologize deeply.

Discipline

Jacob isn’t a fan of discipline, mostly because he is the first from your couple to melt into a crying mess and beg for more. Due to this reason, he rarely acts as dominant, but if you ask him nicely, he will make your wish come true. Prepare for the worst: no touching, moaning, and lamenting is allowed for you. He loves the way chokers look on your neck, so he will put one on you for sure. Jacob will treat you like a doll: brush your hair, fix your outfit for you, and inspect your body. Starting by pinching at your nipples and cupping your breasts, then coming to your pussy. Nothing can be more sweeter than your attempts to keep a straight face and stay silent, restrained from clinging and showing any signs of pleasure, as the wet spot on your panties grows bigger. Jacob will do everything to make you fail: he will grope your supple meat, bend you down and finger fuck you. He can even mock you for being so needy and messy. Be sure, the game will end quickly, as his own arousing demands attention – it is impossible not to get overly excited at the way you bite your lips and your chest rises heavily.

Sexual frustration

Age difference

When Jacob is in the mood for edging, he will initiate a long, torturing foreplay. Kiss him the way you love while sitting on his lap and rubbing your clothed cunt on his bulge slowly, your arms stroking his chest. Whisper him your desires, listen to his while Jacob squeezes your ass, then his fingers spreading your leaking hole and brushing your entrance with fingertips… and forget about going further. Jacob will find something urgent to do and leave both of you excited and frustrated to have wild sex a couple of hours after.

Tantric sex

Jacob isn’t into age play and doesn’t pay much attention to the age difference in your relationship, but there is something spicy about being older and more experienced than you. Jacob likes to guide you, give you advice when you need help, and tell you about the things you didn’t know before. It doesn’t have a physical impact, but pleases him psychologically to be your rock.

Roughness

You introduced this way of intimacy to Jacob. You assured him that it starts far before actual sex and includes intimate talks and spending time together. Not to say he understands it completely, but Jacob likes everything that means being together. At first you are having fun cooking, then watching a film in each other’s embrace. Soft touches, his fingers trailing down your hand, while you leave lazy kisses on his cheek. Jokes and a pleasant conversation, full of nice things to tell. An initiating kiss, your fingers curling into his hair, as the atmosphere gets heated, and Jacob presses you to his body to be closer to you. It grows into sensual, gentle love making: you are lying on your side in Jacob’s embrace, one of his hands holding your throat and other is resting behind your head, giving it support, while he is pounding into you leisurely. You turn your head to him, leaving messy kisses across his face until he finds your lips with his and involves you into a one long kiss. This tranquil sessions can last for hours until the awaited climax.

Sometimes Jacob has that special mood, when lowest forms of attraction take over him. Instead of usual lovemaking he goes straight to destroying your cunt in missionary and your whorish moans only encourage him to continue. He grabs your throat violently and tightens his grip with each thrust, feeling your cunt spasming on his length harder than usual. Jacob adores the way your nails claw into his scalp and skin of his back, as you cling to him. For a next round he will take you from behind, watching with extra pleasure how fat on your ass jiggles every time his hips buck into yours. Jacob will leave slaps on it too and stop only when your ass gets this beautiful reddish color.

Breeding

Expect him to be ashamed of his behavior during aftercare. Probably, he will ask to forgive him for being rude with you, in worse scenarios he will be dying silently, going over and over his words and actions in his head.

Oral

Jacob lives for that. Just one thought of his potent cum stretching your pussy makes him lose all his composure. He wants a classic family with two kids and a housewife, and you fit both roles of caring mother and housekeeper perfectly. He prefers to go on you without a condom, yet you are the one who keeps insisting on protection, because your gynecologist says that you can get pregnant easily. Just because he loves you, Jacob doesn’t want to make you feel stressed in a relationship with him, so he is waiting patiently. For now, he is content with what he has – rare creampies are allowed, when your pregnancy chances are low. Jacob cums so much the biggest part of his seed just oozes out of you down to your ass, leaving beautiful wet traces of his cum and your wetness mixed together. When he is in a kinky mood, he plunges your hole with his fingers to prevent cum from spilling, and finger fucks you until his dick gets erected, only to make a new load inside your womb.

You don’t even have to ask for Jacob to eat you out – he is eagerly asking you for this himself. He loves your holes, and both of them will get attention. Your little clit begs to be caressed with his lips and tongue, and who Jacob is to refuse it. His method is simple, yet effective: licking from your hole up to your clit. He spares some time to circle your opening and tease it with short licks, before letting his tongue inside you. After he is done with your leaking hole, he kisses his way up to your clit and licks it with a tip of his tongue only, before sucking on it and munching it with lips. Don’t be shy and grab his hair, press his face harder to your pussy – he loves some erotic roughness coming from you. You got the prettiest asshole, tight and extremely sensitive, so he can make you cum by eating your ass in seconds, yet he prefers a longer way: while his tongue explores your asshole, his fingers toy with your pussy, making you an absolute mess. Once his fingers plunged inside your soft cunt and his mouth leaves lewd kisses on your ass at the same time, you feel dizzy and your mind can think only about this lecherous torture.

Bondage

Things get different when it is your turn to please him. Jacob can’t think straight (or better say, he can’t think at all) when his cock is buried deep inside your throat and your tongue is sliding along, giving pleasurable pressure on frenulum and just a little stimulation at the tip. You change between deep throating and sucking swiftly, your hands stroke his shaft, as your tongue swirls on the tip. All he can do is blubber your name, while his hands are pressing on your head gently. You can feel Jacob’s approaching climax and you let his dick out of your mouth and stop all the stimulation right before it, changing focus of your attention to his lips instead. You almost fuck his mouth with your tongue, licking and biting at his lips before slipping into his hot mouth in and out. Your tongue caresses and plays with Jacob’s, your saliva mixes together, as you break the kiss and shove your wet tongue into his open mouth, letting saliva flow down. Then you lick his lips playfully and kiss Jacob again. His moans add nice vibration to the kiss. Your hand reaches his leaking cock and you go down again to bring him what he wants the most.

Jacob is a big fan of bondage, and his skill may surprise you. He has always wanted to make a shibari themed photoset, so he will ask for your assistance. Jacob makes tight knots and uses the best shibari ropes to make sure they won’t hurt you and will be comfortable to your skin. In his head, he already has an outfit and location design; makeup, hairstyle, and accessories are up to you. He will make a corset from ropes on your chest, tie your wrists in a prayer gesture, then bind your arms and hang them up, spread your legs, and fix them with a row of knots. His gratitude and appreciation to you for showing interest in his hobby are endless. If you start to feel uncomfortable, he will stop everything and untie you while comforting you. Jacob wants nothing more, but to make it enjoyable and fun for both of you.

Collar & Leash

If you are ready to spice things up, Jacob will bring it to the bed. Nothing extreme hides behind a kinky façade: he just ties your hands to have control over them. Your physical restriction makes his dick harder and sends animalistic impulses down his spine. Breeding you with your hands tied and fixed above your head makes Jacob cum even more – his seed is leaking out with his dick still inside, as no more room is left for it.

CNC

Jacob is blessed to see both of them on your pretty neck. He cums instantly just by pulling the leash and bringing you closer to him. Tight black band of leather on your delicate neck and a leash, contrasting with your skin, is a sight of pure erotic. You were created to feed his demons: Jacob usually doesn’t let dark fantasies roam inside his head, but when he has you all exposed, left with nothing but a collar and leash on your body, he can’t control this voluptuous fever. His favorite way of using it is when you take a condom inside your mouth and put it on his cock by using your throat, as Jacob gradually pushes a leash.

Obsession

Jacob has a shameful fantasy that he will always keep as a secret. He is against violence and degradation, but not in this case. This absolutely horrifying thought appeared in his head since the first time he met you. Struck by your beauty, Jacob wished to have you no matter what. He fantasizes of inviting you to his place and then drugging you to lock you in his basement and take advantage of your sleeping body. He imagines his hands groping your breasts and plump flesh of your waist, touching you everywhere he wants. Jacob wishes to corrupt you, force his dick inside your unprepared cunt and just rape you. Thrusting into you at a sinister pace, pulling you on his dick so hard it hurts for both of you. If you wake up he will give you a drink that will make your head clouded, refuse – and he will pour it down your throat himself. Your cries and laments to stop are the best aphrodisiac to him. Jacob is afraid one day he will lose his mind and let that demonic part take over him, but that fantasy of you unconscious on a cold dusty basement floor with your legs wide open and drool leaking down your face excites him. You are already perfect, but Jacob will finish your transformation into a pure perfection by breaking you and making you an obedient doll who worships him.

Jacob loves you. By that he means that you are a center of his universe and the reason he wakes up every morning. He can’t stay apart from you, he can’t breathe without you. When you are with him everything gets easy. No one can take you from him. Jacob treasures and protects you like a zealot, he knows your every habit and can predict your behavior out to the last detail. He knows everything about you: your cycle, names of all your family members, names, addresses and phone numbers of your friends, and a lot of other stuff that you probably don’t know about your darlings and even about yourself. Jacob is happy that you are dating him: he does everything to earn your love and make you fall for him more and more with every day. You belong to him and you will stay with him forever – your consent is wished, but not required. Try to leave and no one will ever find you: Jacob will lock you inside his house and chain you to his bed. He will destroy you mentally until you decide to stay with him voluntarily.

Voyeurism

Jacob tries not to be clingy, but he needs to hear you saying that you love him everyday. During sex he will ask you to tell him that you belong to him. He likes to mark you as his: matching outfits, accessories for couples, sharing his clothes with you, literally everything to make other people know, that you are his.

Jacob has a telescope and fancy camera lenses that he uses for illegal reasons. You are too carefree and neglect using curtains, so sometimes Jacob can see you playing with yourself or walking naked. You will never notice him watching you, as he is the best at hiding his strange hobby. Jacob knows how to make you cum in seconds by watching you doing so to yourself: you liked stuffing your cunt with your fingers and pressing them close to your crotch so they will rub your clit while you are pounding into your hole. He isn’t only watching you, Jacob is making pictures and recording videos he can use later. Ecstatic shivers are running down Jacob’s spine every time he watches you through the camera, as he massages bulge on his pants. It is a unique secret bond only you and him share.

While spending time together, Jacob will watch you constantly. He can’t get enough of you: he will observe you eating, stretching your limbs, scratching your head… nothing will escape his sight. Expect him to peep on you while changing your clothes or having a shower at his place. Jacob is all-seeing, and when you think you are safe from his careful gaze, know that he is still watching you.

#jacob alden x reader #jacob alden #lurking for love #lurking for love fic #jacob alden x fem!reader