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#GIDDY AT THE THOUGHT OF HER NEEDING HIM
mydairpercabeth · 1 year
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This is how he looks at Shuri… the way they will redefine enemies to lovers IM GOING INSANE
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
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This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
15K notes · View notes
yueebby · 4 months
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4:36am – gojo satoru
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synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health 
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?
notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode!  this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).
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the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.
surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.
a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.
“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”
the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.
“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.” 
you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you. 
you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”
satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.” 
“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?” 
he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”
sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all. 
but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).
silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel. 
satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.
you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.
“at least take me out to dinner before~”
“shut it.”
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it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.
knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.
the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his. 
his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.
“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones. 
satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him,  “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”
your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.
“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.
you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”
gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.
sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.
he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”
“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.
his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!” 
“suguru’s.”
you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.
“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”
you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.
“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent. 
“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”
“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.
“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.
“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.
you stare at it blankly.
“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers. 
when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.
perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.
he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.
“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”
satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."
“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.
“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.
you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.
“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit. 
you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”
just like that, gojo comes back to life.
“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”
an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”
“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”
“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.
he nods fervently.
carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.
“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.
he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.
“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.
“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”
you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.
“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”
“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.
his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”
you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.
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extra notes
satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.
his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.
satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).
as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.
shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.
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ghostfacd · 5 months
Text
I BET ON LOSING DOGS.
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
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PART TWO
summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.
warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return
author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓
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You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.
Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.
“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.
He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”
Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations
“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”
He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”
You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.
“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.
“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.
“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back
Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.
After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.
“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”
“Who hates you Coryo?”
“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”
“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.
“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.
“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”
But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.
- - -
The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.
You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.
You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.
His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.
“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.
He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.
He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.
“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.
“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.
“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”
- - -
Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.
You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.
Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.
“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.
“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.
“But Coryo—”
Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.
Well, he thought, this was it.
This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.
“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”
But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.
- - -
“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.
You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.
“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.
“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.
“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”
“I know! I was going to—”
He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”
His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.
“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.
- - -
Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.
Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.
So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.
Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.
But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.
He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.
What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.
Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.
He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.
If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.
“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.
“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”
“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”
Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.
“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”
You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.
When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.
“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”
Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”
Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”
God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.
“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.
Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.
If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.
- - -
The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.
“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”
You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.
“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.
“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.
“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”
“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”
He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”
Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.
“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”
But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.
You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.
Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.
Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.
Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?
He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.
If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.
And this? It was just the beginning.
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Mc accidently got splashed with a (obsessive) "love potion" and she falls in giddy love with first person she lays her eyes on.
All she wants to do is give them kisses and hugs...and yea she also is clingy and she follows them around even duuring class. She is ready to do anything for her "love" ( like whatever they ask of her) she wants them to be happy . She is convinced that they are dating and it's honestly pointless to try and explain things to her.
How would Azul, Jamil, Malleus, Duece and Floyd hanndle the situation/what's their reaction? ( they were not dating before ) 
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul was doomed by yet another situation he couldn’t see himself out of. He hardly knows how to handle you normally, or rather how to handle his feelings for you, but you’re much harder when you’re like this. Having you clinging to his side and demanding his attention made it impossible for him to concentrate, and feelings be damned he wasn’t going to let his business suffer. Since Jade and Floyd refused to escort you from his office (finding Azul’s flustered face and inability to actually push you away the best comedy bit they’d seen in years) he ordered them to instead find a cure for the nightmarish love potion that ailed you. They do agree but take longer than they need to, wanting Azul to endure his torturous thoughts a bit longer.
Deuce Spade:
You have poor Deuce stressed OUT. He’s too worried about your well-being to hear any of Ace’s teasing, also focused on keeping his lips covered in case of another surprise attack. He wouldn’t mind under normal circumstances but this doesn’t feel genuine (and he had a much more romantic first kiss in mind for the two of you). He boldly confided in his seniors about you in hopes of them helping with a solution, tightly holding your hand to keep you at bay. He’s willing to go to any length to cure you, even if he’d miss the closeness.
Floyd Leech:
Floyd is willing to milk this situation for all that it’s worth. He particularly enjoyed the squeezing contest you had, and how tightly you clung to him even after he clearly won. He would have loved to keep you all to himself, using your condition to get out of working at Mostro Lounge as it would be hard to cook with you attached to him like you were. Jade is surprised with how long Floyd indulged your clingy behavior, even when he seemed fed up, he knew if he really wanted to push you away and lock you up so you’d leave him alone, he would do it.
Jamil Viper:
Jamil would have used you for all you were worth if he didn’t have feelings for you. He’s frustrated that yet another responsibility was thrust upon him, but turning his back on you was not a choice under these circumstances. It makes it hard to go about his day when he has two different people bothering him all day, but you proved to be the bigger challenge (for now). If he could concentrate he’d have an easier time of finding a solution but there was a part of him that longed for you to continue to worship him, curious how much of this might mirror your relationship if you ended up dating.
Malleus Draconia:
You had always been more honest with Malleus than others, but this was certainly new. As much as he enjoyed your emboldened behavior it didn’t take him long to detect something was off, leaving him conflicted. He wouldn’t mind having a close relationship like this with you, maybe some more boundaries discussed for the sake of Sebek’s heart and everyone else's eardrums, but he was disappointed to know this wasn’t you acting on ‘real’ feelings. He’s even more suspicious about how and why you were splashed with such a potion to begin with, growing rather possessive at the concept of someone trying to steal your heart away from him.
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months
Note
Aaron having to bring his daughter with him to work for whatever reason? She’s tiny enough to not be running around and mainly just sleep on his chest all day. It’s fall outside and she’s in a warm teddy bear outfit so it’s literally like a stuffed animal on his chest as he works. She wouldn’t remember anything she saw in files but he makes sure her head is never near anything bad. Makes his heart warm and happy when the others realize that she’s there and coo over her and the outfit. Penelope takes pictures of them to send to you too 😭🖤
soak it in
i'm going to CRY cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, small foyet reference
aaron's entrance into the bullpen piqued the interest of several, as it was different from any other, usual morning. not only was his briefcase in hand, but also a carseat, and a diaper bag was slung proudly over his shoulder. there were smiles from the team, some small nudges to look amongst the other units, as today's visitor was easily welcomed.
during breakfast, you had been notified your dentist appointment had been moved up, due to the office closing earlier within the day for whatever reason. with such short notice and jessica being unavailable, aaron was the obvious solution, and your daughter came to work with him - until you were done running a few errands and could drop by to retrieve her.
for the meantime - as she was there - aaron opted to work strictly on the no-pictures-included files. while she was never in close proximity to a file regardless, and today's onesie's hood happened to shield her eyes, and her little mind wouldn't process or remember anything - aaron didn't want to take any chances. he yearned to keep his daughter as far away from that, all the horrors the world possessed, for as long as he possibly could. jack had gained the knowledge - that monsters were real, just in human form - sooner than he would have liked. sadly.
currently baby girl was tucked into his chest, her right cheek smushed against him. she dozed off not too long ago; she had gotten a bit antsy and luckily his swivel desk chair allowed him to slowly rock her as he worked, in addition to soothingly shushing her, whispering that it's okay; ultimately calming her down. her little fingers found a near death grip on his shirt, clinging onto him as she slept.
when he had felt the pull of fabric, he gazed down and couldn't help but smile. aaron also took a moment, to soak it all in. the window of time where this was possible, was limited; her against his chest, small enough to be cradled in one arm, quiet and secure in the comfort of his office. all in too fast progression would aaron blink, and she would be way more interested in exploring and bouncing off the walls.
the thought immediately snapped his heart into two. if only she could stay that tiny, forever.
as he wrote, flipped a page, switched files, aaron was extremely careful to his movements. he tried not to rustle her, despite her being comfortably laid in his not-preoccupied-by-writing arm.
the sudden creak of his door lifts his eyes, penelope entering. the quietest of aw’s leaves her as she approaches, with an extra spring in her step at the sight before her. in addition, she doesn't hesitate to whisk out her phone.
"i didn't know this cutie was here today." the words leave her in a gentle, yet high, pitched tone, giddiness laced within. her jaw fully drops as she catches sight of the cozy onesie the littlest hotchner inhabits, "oh my god look at her outfit!"
“garcia.” aaron lightly warns as her volume heightens, his eyes flicking back up to her from his paperwork, his pen slowing.
“i know sorry sorry, i just neeeed to share the cuteness with the mrs.," penelope grins, aiming her camera at baby girl, and aaron, snapping a few pictures. "this is just, too dang adorable. she needs a copy, i need a copy, and i'll make you a copy too, sir."
that tugs aaron's lips into a smile, a small chuckle leaving him. "she's cute, huh?"
"um hello? cute doesn't even begin to cover it. please tell me you're the one who dressed her today. if yes, i might have to scream. just might."
"not today." aaron admitted, dropping his pen and fixing the small hood, which had fallen a bit too much in front of baby girl's face. again, his lips couldn’t help but pull into a smile. god, he loved being a girl dad, and a dad in general. "but, i may have picked it out."
"i was right. i'm going to scream." quick to realize what she said, penelope held out her hands in defense - before aaron even had the opportunity to open his mouth - clarifying with wide eyes. "internally! i'm screaming internally."
aaron took a slight pause, before speaking. “actually, about the copies - ”
penelope’s shoulders dropped in defeat, her lips pulling to the side - an equivalent to an ‘eek’. “was i too enthusiastic?”
“on the contrary,” aaron’s expression softened, laughing gently as to again, not rouse baby girl. “would you mind bringing me two? i’ll need one for in here, and for my wallet.”
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ceilidho · 2 months
Text
prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2
-
“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”
She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether. 
The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious. 
She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection. 
“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it. 
“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention. 
“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction. 
In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly. 
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home. 
Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.
And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive. 
It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything. 
He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.
“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”
Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious. 
“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel. 
The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”
“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”
She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”
Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”
“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”
No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that. 
He swallows. “Maybe a few.”
No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends. 
He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up. 
Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked. 
He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.
It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent. 
They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug. 
“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny. 
They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning. 
“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”
A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”
She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”
Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”
Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”
“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.
Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away. 
“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him. 
“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically. 
“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”
“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”
“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room. 
Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him. 
It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare. 
There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes. 
He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched. 
Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?” 
“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”
Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”
Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”
He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting. 
Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. 
He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.
Dirty dog.
It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life. 
His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything. 
He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench. 
When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes. 
Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank. 
He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word. 
Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one. 
Still he—
He lets it happen.
Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat. 
“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.” 
He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll. 
Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building. 
They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face. 
The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in. 
Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand. 
Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet. 
The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.
2K notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 2 months
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very indulgent pussy eating blurb for pretty girl from Prosecco pls! I need to read him absolutely going insane w the thought of eating her out and then getting to do it!! ♡
wordcount: 7.2k+
—————
Hooking his fingers into the waist of her skirt, a smug smile crossed Harry's features at the feel of the layer of goosebumps that prickled (Y/N)'s skin. The tip of his nose skated along the column of her throat as he began easing down the fabric.
"Don't know how I let y'leave on time this morning while looking like this," he murmured, his words dripping and seeping into her skin. He felt a little too accomplished when she felt her hands tighten on his shoulders. 
"Shouldn't have," she told him, her voice matching the quiet of his bedroom, "I could've skipped my morning classes to stay with you."
Harry couldn't help the laughter that fell from his lips, smiling up at her from where he was making a point to slowly ease her skirt down her legs. "You'll take any reason to skip class, pretty girl." 
A gentle smile took her features as she shrugged down at him. Harry only shook his head before he laid all of his attention out on her body, dotting kisses down the curves of her form as he moved her skirt to catch on her ankles. Helping her discard the garment, he flung it to join the pile already on the floor consisting of both of their shirts and her cardigan. He didn't waste a moment before settling his eyes on her near-bare form. 
Down to only her bra and underwear, she was a vision in his bedsheets. Her chest was nearly spilling out of her bra from the amount of times he had pushed the cups out of the way to kiss at the swells and leave his mark. Though, what had his attention captured and unwilling to let go, was the sight of her soft thighs spread apart and the pair of pearly, satin panties tucked between—completely mismatched to the rose toned cotton bra she had on. From where he was sitting, he could see a small wet spot decorating the underside, giving away just how eager she was to have him. 
His cock bloated in his pants, urging him forward with a near-drooling mouth. He'd never had his mouth between her thighs before, always a little too giddy to have his cock inside instead. Today could be the perfect day to take his time with her, get to know more of her body and what else he could do to make her float away for him. 
"So pretty, sweetheart," he murmured to her, fitting his hands on the soft curve of her waist, "Prettiest I've ever seen." 
He didn't have to look at her to know that she was biting back a smile, gazing at him with a pair of heart eyes that he never grew tired of. He focused on planting his lips to the soft of her stomach, just under the line of her bra before working his way down. His fingertips grazed the thin sides of her panties, attempting to work them down her spread thighs as he kissed down her body. 
It was when he started pulling down her underwear, hitting a bit of a lag with how drenched her center was that her panties clung to her form, that had Harry's breath catching. He couldn't wait to get his mouth on her.
Before he could get very far, only kissing down to her bellybutton, (Y/N) moved her hands from where they were on his shoulders to land on his cheeks. Her fingertips dipped into the curls on the sides of his head, her grip gentle as she directed him upwards. 
"Just want you," she told him, curling her body in order to meet him halfway and press her lips to his in a distracting kiss.
While he was a bit disappointed to have been pulled off track, he wasn't going to argue with her if this was one of her boundaries for the night. Instead of resuming his trek down her form, he settled on parting his lips just so and allowing her tongue to tangle with his. 
"Y'have me, pretty girl," he murmured into her mouth, helping pull her panties down before fitting his hips between her thighs. 
His disappointment didn't last very long, not when she could feel that wetness he had been craving now pressed against the ridge of his cock. He'd taste her another night.
—————
Throwing his head back, Harry felt a dreamy smile land on his lips as he breathed out a sigh. With his eyes shuttered, he sunk further into the couch cushions with his legs spread and his pretty girl on her knees before him. His hand in her hair tightened, clumsily ensuring no stray hairs impeded her vision. 
"God, sweetheart, gonna make me cum so hard," he groaned, forcing himself to peel his eyes open to get a look at her. 
With her hair pulled back, Harry could see every plane of her face, every shift of her features, and flutter of her lashes. There was a shine to her eyes that always appeared whenever she dropped to her knees for him, glimmering every time she looked up at him through the fan of her lashes. Her skin was warm, cheeks and chin slicked with her own salvia and his pearly precum. Her glossy lips were snug around his cock, only the barest remains of her glitter lipgloss having survived him pushing into her mouth. 
He couldn't help to moan at the sight of her, practically melting into the cushions. Widening the spread of his legs, he pushed her head down that much more with his grip on her hair. Just the very tip of her nose grazed the thatch of hair at his base. She gagged the smallest bit around him, throat contracting while tears collecting in her eyes like stars. Instinctively, Harry went to pull back, allow her space to breathe, but she stayed just where she was with her hands stationed on his thighs, nails digging into the plush skin. She paced her breathing and leveled herself out before she looked at him with her watery gaze. 
"So good, sweetheart, so good" he praised breathlessly, scratching his fingers at her scalp in a soothing run, "Doing so good for me. Y'like doing this for me?" 
With his mouth dropped in a gape and his breath coming out in puffs, Harry could only watch as she pulled off of him. His cock bobbed in her face, slick with her spit, a string of salvia connecting his tip to the pillow of her bottom lip. Her mouth was swollen as she looked up at him, her hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs as she shuffled forward—as if she couldn't be close enough then.
"I love it," she breathed, voice crackling, "I love making you feel good, H." 
Canting his head, the beginnings of a smile touched at his features. His hands in her hair were gentle as he directed her forward just enough to press her swollen lips to his cock. "I know, pretty. Y'always make me feel so good, y'don't even know." 
(Y/N) had the nerve to look up at him bashfully through the frame of her lashes as she puckered her lips against the head of his cock, kissing at him just like he taught. It was like watching his own personal performance the way she gave everything to him in order to make him happy. His own little movie star, he thought with a tense in his abdomen.
He watched as she dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, taking a moment to tongue at his balls like she knew he liked. She took him into her mouth as deep as she could all while he watched as her raptured audience. 
Seeing her face slick with his arousal and blissed out, there was a part of him that wanted to pull her from his cock and to fit his head between her own thighs instead. He hadn't been able to get the thought of going down on her out of his mind since he fantasized over that wet spot on her panties days ago. He wanted to be the one with a swollen pout and slick on his cheeks; he wanted to give everything he could to her, wrap his lips around her clit and dig his tongue inside her. The thought had his cock flexing in her mouth, a blurt of more precum seeping out. 
Maybe he could have both, he thought—he could have her on his face while she sucked his cock at the same time. His hands tightened in her hair at the thought, a moan of her name fell from his lips. He felt breathless when he tried to tell her as much, that he wanted to try something with her before he came. 
(Y/N) seemed to be spurred on by his actions, doing that much more to make him cum down her throat. Before he could warn her, heed her to stop now before he would be too spent to do anything special for her, she readied herself with her nails digging into his thighs, taking him further. He could feel the slide of her tongue over his shaft, the closing of her throat around his tip. Where she couldn't reach, her slick hands came to take care of him. 
"Sweetheart—shit—I—" he choked out, his eyes fluttering to a close despite how badly he wanted to watch her. His hand in her hair could do nothing more than tighten among the strands, every bit of his energy and attention being too spent on the coiling in his stomach.
It didn't take much for him to succumb to the pleasure she was giving, his balls drawing tight to his cock just before he felt the first spray of his cum down her throat. She gagged around him, the tight muscles drawing that much more of a reaction out of him. A melody of moans fell from his mouth, mixing with (Y/N)'s own rumbling ones he felt more than he heard. His thighs tensed on either side of her, his cum mixing with the slick saliva of her mouth. 
He wasn't sure how long he sat there with his breath robbed from his lungs, flooding her mouth. By the time he had more on his mind other than how good the warmth of her mouth felt or how deeply he swore he was feeling his release, (Y/N) was doing nothing more than delicately sucking on the head of his cock, licking over his slit. 
With his eyes refocusing in the present, he could see the white remains of his cum on her tongue. The sight had his cock jumping in her hand. The reaction had a small smile decorating her face before she drew away completely, looking up at him with pride despite her disheveled appearance. 
"That was a lot," she quipped, her voice a bit stilted as she dropped her cheek to lay against the cuff of his knee. 
A plume of laughter fell from his lips as he shook his head at her. Raking his fingers through her hair, he rolled his lips between his teeth, still thinking about the fantasy that pushed him so direly over the edge despite knowing he didn't have the energy to execute it anymore (that was thirty-five for you). 
"It was, yeah," he smiled at her, curling down towards her until he was capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Jus' for you." 
"Thank you," she peeped, drawing another peal of laughter from him. 
"C'mere, pretty girl," he beckoned, drawing away just to welcome her onto his lap.
Careful of his softening cock, she settled on his lap with her thighs astride his hips. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him with her eyes fluttering closed. 
"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown. 
He could feel the smile blooming on her cheeks at his appreciation. "That's just as much for me as it is for you, honestly," she told him, amusement tinting her tone.
Though he was sure she was trying to get him to laugh with her, the implication had him rolling his neck until his head was thrown back against the back of the couch. His eyes shuttered as he recalled the unfulfilled vision of her sitting on his face with his mouth between her thighs. The idea made his cock ache.
God, he needed to eat her out—and soon.
—————
Harry couldn't tear his eyes off of (Y/N)'s body and the way the shimmering fabric of her dress clung to her form. The short hem fluttered around her thighs, shifting just enough as she stepped through her apartment to show off an extra inch of her skin for him to feast his eyes upon. His cock grew thick in his trousers, the fabric tightening as he attempted to keep his focus on the night's plans instead of making new ones. 
"I'm almost ready. I just need to do a couple more things," she prattled as she passed him by, feet still bare with only a single earring in and her hair half done. 
"Take your time," he told her, barely registering his own words as he swore he could spy the line of her panties through the fabric of her dress. He knitted his fingers together in his lap, a tactic used in hopes of keeping them to himself. 
It wasn't until she passed by his spot on the couch another pair of times, looking a touch more put together with her tiny dress fluttering around her body, that he lost his fight. She had her shoes of choice in hand when she padded by him, saying something about needing a couple of more minutes when he reached out and hooked his arm around her middle. She was stopped in her tracks, looking at him with wide eyes. 
"I'm almost done, I just n—"
"I know, I know," he told her, brushing her off in favor of dropping his hands to the soft give her thighs. "Just let me look at you a little. You've been running around, barely letting me see you before you're gone again—it's not fair." 
Sliding his hands up the hem of her dress, he could feel the goosebumps that pebbled over her skin. The length of his fingers hit the waist of her panties, digits hooking into the line.
Pushing her hand through his hair, she canted her head. "We're already running late, H. I think Tawny's gonna be mad." 
Harry shook his head, dropping a kiss to her plush thigh, his nose skimming the end of her dress. "She'll be fine. Jus' tell her I got sick and I can take care of you instead." 
Peering up at her, he waited for her permission before he would take down her panties and push her dress up. She was rolling her lips between her teeth, her hand in his hair pulsing. 
"We did that a couple of weeks ago, though," she murmured, an apology already swimming in her eyes. 
Shrugging, Harry flexed his fingers on her hips. "They won't notice." 
Releasing her glossy pout, (Y/N) offered him a soft smile before she started shooing his hands from underneath her dress. "You know they will. Let's just go, and we can leave early and come home. If you still want me, you can have me then." 
Harry relented then, drawing away from her core and dropping his hands to a more appropriate station on her legs. "Alright," he petulantly sighed, reveling in the small laugh she rewarded him with, "I suppose I can wait." 
"I'll make it worth your while," she promised, bending down to press her lips to his pouted ones with her hands cupping his jaw, "Let me finish and then we can go, honey." 
"I'll be here," he said, sending her off with a pat to her bottom as she bent to collect her shoes from the floor. 
He couldn't manage to tear his eyes from her as she padded back to her bedroom, folding his hands in his lap with his palms buzzing from her warmth.
—————
Harry's hand sat gently on (Y/N)'s thigh, his palm a cuff around the curve. Opposing his soft touch was the tick that had his jaw clenched shut. His throat bobbed every time he chanced a look at her from the corner of his eye. 
Tawny's get together had been just as eventful as Harry had figured. It was full of wine glasses, "homemade" snacks (she has never learned to throw away her takeout boxes), and bubbling chatter. He learned from Sarah that she and Mitch had started talking about the possibility of babies, Tom and Jenny were going away for a month-long trip to Greece later in the year, and Charlotte was planning on hosting an open mic night at her café (and pleaded with almost everyone to get them to come so it didn't completely flop). He had been little more than (Y/N)'s accessory at times, clasping her hand in his and dutifully following her around as she flounced about and talked to anyone and everyone. He wasn't much in the mood for socializing after shoving down his desires back at her apartment—he would much rather trail behind her, getting an eyeful of her ass and the sway of her hips. 
His mind hadn't drifted far from what he had been desperate to do before having to leave for Tawny's. He was eager to end the night; watching her and giving innocent touches to the small of her back or on her hand weren't enough. It was the worst when she had scooted by him when everyone had migrated to the couch, (Y/N) sidestepping around him as she used his shoulders to steady herself, leaving his face level with the soft of her tummy and just where he knew the line of her panties laid under her shimmering dress. He'd had to collect a throw blanket to drape over his lap afterwards, feigning a want to share with and warm (Y/N) when she settled at his side once again. 
As much as he loved his friends and seeing (Y/N) bubble and chatter among them, by the time the two hour mark approached on their stay, he was ready to get out of there. After a slew of too-long goodbyes and a suspicious glance from Mitch, Harry had his arm around (Y/N)'s waist as they made it out the door. 
That was how he found himself here, not paying enough attention to the road with his pants too tight for comfort. 
"Are you okay? You're being really quiet," (Y/N) murmured by the time they pulled up to her apartment complex, her hand came to rest atop his own. 
He could feel her eyes on him as he steered them towards his unofficial parking spot. "'M alright, sweetheart. Jus' really want to get y'inside." 
Whatever she saw in his darkened gaze had her own features softening, a giddy smile on her lips. "Really?" she chirped, attempting a discreet glance at his lap. 
His lips folded into a lopsided smile as he squeezed her thigh. He leaned across the console, leveling his gaze to hers with a brush of his nose against the bridge of her own. 
"As if you didn't know," he teased, quickly pressing his lips to hers in a deft kiss before he was releasing his hold with a pat to her leg, "Now, c'mon. 'M tired of waiting."
Harry felt a little too smug when she didn't immediately follow, stuck for a moment in her spot with her eyes blown wide. Rounding the bonnet of the car, he met her at her door before she had a chance to push it open. He helped her steady on the asphalt, the point of her heels teetering on the uneven surface. 
Hooking his arm around her waist, he escorted her up the open staircase leading to her apartment. With his mind occupied, thinking about the soft cotton of her panties he had felt up earlier in the night, the trek felt like nothing to him. (Y/N)'s fingers fumbled some as she unlocked her door, surely feeling the weight of his hand on her hip and the heat of his gaze tracing over her profile. 
Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) turned to Harry as he locked the door behind them, her eyes bright and a bashful smile on her lips. 
"Let me take off my makeup, and ch—" 
Surging forward, Harry used his grip around her waist to press her back into the wall before sealing his lips to hers in an urgent kiss. He was sure she had an idea of what she thought he wanted tonight—another replay of her splayed out on his bed with her legs spread and his cock sinking inside her—but he had a different craving that he doubted she even realized. She melted into his kiss after a lag of surprise, her hands floating up to settle on either side of his jaw. The length of her nails caught on the baby hairs bordering his hairline. 
Parting his lips, Harry deepened the kiss with his tongue swiping out to draw a line along the seam of her mouth. (Y/N) didn't hesitate before matching his intensity, welcoming his tongue inside her mouth with a delicate moan. Slick sounds filled the entryway to her home, matching the parting and meeting of their lips over and over. He didn't care to be particularly composed as he doled out his affection, the twisting of their tongues messy and clumsy with how badly Harry wanted to put his mouth all over her. Every sigh she breathed in his mouth, every drag of her nails through his hair, every heave of her breasts against his chest had him crumbling that much more. 
Trailing his mouth down, smearing his kiss over the curve of her chin to the line of her jaw, Harry followed all the way down the column of her throat. The lower he went, dropping towards the neckline of her dress, he could feel how heated her skin was, chest heaving as she caught her breath through kiss-swollen, saliva-slicked lips. 
He dropped to his knees in front of her, feeling his pulse thrumming as he gazed up at her from his new position. A lopsided smile landed on his lips when he saw the way she looked down at him, instinctively reaching for the curls crowning his head, threading her fingers through the waves. 
"W-We can go to my bedroom, an—" 
Harry shook his head before she could finish. "We're going to stay right here, sweetheart." 
With that, he grabbed one of her ankles and shifted to kneel in front of her. He placed her heeled foot on his bent thigh, working his fingers into the clasp that held the strappy piece around her ankle. Peering up at her through his lashes, he could see how intensely he held her attention doing nothing more than a simple task he'd done for her plenty of times over. A bit of pride had him straightening his shoulders. 
He had her right where he wanted. 
Shucking her shoes off, sending her back to her original height, Harry didn't make any move to get up. Despite the way she tugged at his hair, urging him to stand up and continue with the mess of kisses they had started, Harry stayed right where he was. He could kiss her for the rest of the night if she wanted, but he needed to take care of this first. 
With how hard his cock was in his pants, a blurt of precum having wet the fabric of his briefs, diving between her thighs was going to be more for him than her.
Planting his mouth in a searing kiss on the plush of her thigh, he started a new expedition in adoring the rest of her body he had been so awful to ignore before. Goosebumps raised on her skin as he plucked his teeth against the soft skin. His palms skated up the curve of her legs, following the line of her form just as he had until he was edging under the hem of her dress. He dragged his lips over her thighs, never fully parting from the flesh before he pressed another languid kiss to her skin. 
"Harry," she sighed the call when she felt his nose skim the fluttering edge of her dress, lifting it up with another kiss being placed on the newly-bare skin. 
"Wanna take care of you, pretty girl," he murmured to her, his words dripping over her skin and down the length of her legs, "Always make me feel so good, want to do that for you now. Can I, sweetheart?" 
"A-Are you sure?" she asked, eyes softened and trained only on him. 
His hands plunged under her dress, landing on the waist of her underwear with his fingertips teasing the elastic. More of her thighs were put on display from the lifted fabric, but the front swath hung perfectly over her modesty, concealing her from his eyes despite his best efforts. Harry nosed at where her clit was nestled away out of his sight, feeling her hips tense under his hands. 
"Been thinking about it all week, pretty girl. I think 'm very sure," he grumbled against her, "Y'can't distract me this time." 
Her skin warmed, her pulse bubbling. "I just wasn't sure—you-you've never... before, so." 
Harry shook his head, a frown of disappointment settling on his lips as he gazed up at her. "That's no good, huh. Haven't been very fair of me to not take care of you and eat your pretty pussy out like you deserve—especially since you're always so sweet to me, darling." 
"It's okay," she told him, her bottom lip being plucked between her teeth, "I know you love me." 
Harry's features softened and molded into a tender smile. This time the kiss he dropped on the bare of her thigh was made of nothing but pure affection. "I do love you—very much. Can I show you how much?" 
The eager nod she gave him was the permission he needed before Harry was finally shucking her underwear down her legs. He helped her step out of the fabric before he unceremoniously stuffed them in his pocket. Settling as comfortably as he could on his knees, Harry flicked his gaze up to watch her reaction just before he pushed her dress up.
Her pussy glistened in the light, her lips puffy and soaked. Her fingers in his hair pulsed just before she widened her stance that much more, revealing more of herself to him. While it was far from the first time he'd seen all of her body, this moment felt more charged than any before. 
He truly did feel bad, hearing what she said. He didn't like that she had just assumed she was one of the many that didn't believe in going down on their girlfriend, that it was something he wouldn't even try with her. The assumption was far from the truth and something he planned on banning from her mind after tonight. 
Leaning forward, taking advantage of her spread legs, he planted his lips on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Can't believe I've never tasted you before, love. Y'look so sweet, you know that?" 
"M-Maybe," she answered, her voice a shaky whisper from above, the heat of her gaze following his movements. 
"Maybe?" he teased, skimming his lips that much higher before starting from the beginning on the opposite thigh, "Have you tasted yourself before, pretty?" 
Harry was sure that if he could reach her cheeks, he would have been able to feel the heat bubbling under her skin at his question. "Um, once or twice," she sheepishly admitted. 
His mouth broke into a grin at her admission. His briefs were going to be sporting quite the wet patch if she kept this up. 
"I don't blame you," he mumbled into her skin, reaching the softest part just a breath away from her pussy, "I don't know how y'keep your hands off all day long. I could spend hours right here, darling." 
Inhaling a heavy breath through his nose, he caught the scent of her arousal. He had a hard time dragging his eyelids open afterwards, sinking that much more into the moment. 
Closing that small, teasing distance, Harry offered himself some mercy and planted his lips directly onto her clit. It was a loving kiss, his lips puckered and giving just the way they would have been had he been kissing her mouth. A small yelp left (Y/N)'s lips at the contact, her muscles bunching under his palms. 
Peering up at her through the frame of his lashes, Harry pushed another budding kiss to her clit, this time watching the look on her face. He saw her eyes attempt to close, lashes kissing her cheekbones, with her mouth dropping into a small gape. A pinch appeared between her brows, the same way they always scrunched when she was attempting to concentrate on something. 
The thought had the very corner of his lips plucking into a slight smile. 
After planting a slew of kisses on her clit, feeling her pulse jump against him, Harry dropped his hands from her hips to slide around to the backs of her thighs. His palms cuffed the soft skin, fingertips denting into the gentle curve as he pushed her towards his face, angling her hips just so. Throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, her slit parted to match the splaying of her hips, revealing her flushed sensitivity. Her core was sticky wet, waiting for him. 
(Y/N)'s breath caught at the first spread of his tongue through her slit, matching the rumbling groan that came from his chest. Harry had to fight to keep his eyes from shuttering as he sunk into the moment—into the taste of her on his buds, into the feel of her weight on his shoulder, the pulsing slickness of her opening. Something deep in his stomach was quelled finally after getting his first taste, urging him to indulge more and more now that he finally had what he wanted right in his hands. His fingers pulsed around her thighs, keeping her steady on her feet and pussy presented for him to do as he pleased. 
The flat of his tongue slid through her slit over and over, collecting her wetness and reveling in the heady taste that was her before swallowing. The tip teased her hole, dipping in in hopes and catching more of her taste right from the source. He could feel (Y/N)'s toes curl behind his back, her heel pressing into his spine to urge him into giving more. He smiled around his ministrations as he zigzagged his tongue over her pussy before he focused back on her clit. 
Kissing at the bud, he spoke as best he could without lifting his mouth from her cunt. "Y'taste so good, pretty. Gonna need this every single day now that I've had you," he told her, unsure if this was just dirty talk at the moment. He could imagine a good life where he started every day between her thighs and ended it the same way. His cock jumped in his trousers at the thought. "Can y'give me that, sweetheart? Your pussy every day just for me to have?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she sounded, her voice a touch shaky as she braced herself with her grip on his shoulders. "Feels re-really good, H." 
Spurred on by her stuttered praise, Harry surged forward, replacing his lips with his tongue now laving over her clit. It was swollen between his lips as he gave placating sucks to the bud, (Y/N) letting out the softest mewls in response. With her thighs trembling under his hands, he dared to think that if he weren't there to prop her up or the wall offering her balance, she would have tumbled down. 
He wanted to give her something worth crumbling for. 
Diving down from her clit, he followed the split of her spread lips until he was tonguing at her opening. Her wetness had spread to the inside of her thighs, his cheeks, and now the tip of his nose as he wagged the flat of his tongue over her folds. It was just as he wanted her, a little messy, a little clumsy as she learned just how it felt to be taken care of by him. 
Pointing his tongue, he jutted his chin against her and thrust his tongue straight inside her pussy. Her fluttering walls clenched around him, welcoming him in as if this was his cock splitting her walls open. Above him, (Y/N) had gone silent. Peeking at her, he saw her jaw slack, eyes closed, and her chest shuddering with a stunted breath. If his mouth wasn't so busy, he wouldn't have been able to hold back the smug curl of his lips. 
Instead, he wriggled his tongue inside her, tracing along the ridges and curves he was so familiar with in another context. (Y/N)'s hands in his hair came alive then, tugging at his roots. He matched her intensity, stroking his tongue in and out of her hole while he used his grip on her thighs to bring her flush to his face. His cheeks were muffed by her warm thighs, chin soaked in her slick, and nose mushed against her clit. 
"H-Harry, fuck," (Y/N) cried, her voice thin, "I-I—oh my god—I—" 
"What do you need, sweetheart?" Harry asked, drawing away just enough to speak against her puffy folds. "I'll give it to you, jus' tell me what." 
She swallowed hard, throat bobbing as she fluttered her gaze to keep in the moment. "Fi-Fingers, please." 
He didn't bother to answer, instead giving into her want in a heartbeat. With the hand cupping the thigh sitting on his shoulder, Harry reached between her legs and stuffed his middle finger inside her fluttering walls. He thrusted through a handful of times before he added his index, (Y/N) keening at the addition with her head thumping against the wall. 
With her shimmery dress still covering her form, every heaving breath, every shudder of her spine, every tensing of her hips was highlighted in the faux-starlight. She was a dream above him, a sheen on her skin, hair pulled back from her face as if she knew he would want to catch every minute expression she made. His own breath came in ragged puffs, but he didn't care much as he attached his mouth to her clit once more. 
He drove his fingers inside her while he sucked her clit between his lips, giving those same laving licks and soft sucks that had her whimpering in the first place. Her hands in his hair were shocked into a tight, unwavering grip. Her thigh over his shoulder shifted until her calf was strapped across his back, urging him closer and closer, toes curling against the material of his shirt. 
He could do this all night, but he had a feeling (Y/N)'s expiration was coming soon. The telltale sign came in the scrunch of her nose, her eyes clamping shut before she forced them open in hopes of catching every detail. 
"Gonna cum for me, pretty?" he mouthed against her clit, feeling (Y/N)'s muscles bunch at the feeling of his voice vibrating around her. 
A small whine crawled its way out of her throat as she nodded, her mouth in nothing more than a gape. 
"Let me have it, sweetheart," he crooned, "Want you to cum on m'face so bad. Been all I could think about for the last week—don't disappoint me." 
There was that trigger he knew too well. She always wanted nothing more than to be the best for him—his best girl, his perfect love, his favorite everything—she would never disappoint him. (Could never, really, as far as Harry was concerned). 
All it took was a brush of Harry's fingers through her fluttering walls and particularly lingering suck of her clit before (Y/N) was crumbling above him. His name left her mouth as if in prayer, adoration and admiration soaking into the syllables. Her back arched from the wall, pushing her hips that much closer to his face. Harry didn't stop, feeling her walls pulse around his fingers, her clit pulsing between his lips. She grew especially wet, leaving him to lap it all up—just as he had wanted in his fantasies.
Aftershocks rained through her body as she came down, her muscles pulsing at every touch he gave her. It wasn't until she let out a particularly pathetic whine, her hands in his hair pushing him off, did he draw away from her. 
"Too much?" he asked, voice hoarse through his swollen lips. 
"Too much," she repeated in a watery voice. 
His mouth and cheeks were soaked, the tip of his nose and chin also glistening in the light. His hands slid down her form, fingers cramping from how tightly he held onto her. (He hoped he both did and didn't leave any bruises on her skin; he hated thinking about her in pain, but also appreciated the thought of his mark on her). 
While (Y/N) caught her breath, Harry helped ease her thigh from his shoulder, steadying her balance without his form propping her up. He fixed her dress despite there being no reason to hide after what they just did, smoothing the fabric over her hips in a soothing touch. 
"Y'alright, love?" he asked, feeling a little breathless himself as he checked in on her. 
"Yeah," she answered simply, her eyes having fluttered shut. 
Harry smiled at her, standing to the full of his height. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he started her towards her bedroom. "Let's get y'cleaned up, yeah?" 
"Yeah," she repeated. Harry's grin grew wider.
With her eyes hooded and movements lethargic, Harry guided her back to her bedroom. Flicking on the light, he deposited her on the edge of her bed. He watched with an affectionate smile as she flopped back into the mattress, arms falling above her head as she stretched out. 
He left her to her quiet soothing as he stepped into her bathroom. Picking a washcloth from her collection under the sink, he wet it before running it across his face to clean up her remaining wetness. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry could only shake his head. 
His hair was a mess, raspberry lips tinted to that of a red-ripened strawberry. His cheeks were flushed, the blush reaching over the bridge of his nose and down the curve of his neck. Just as he thought, his cock was still impossibly hard in his pants, hiding a drenched spot on the front of his briefs where he had been leaking blurts of precum while tasting his girl. 
Taking the damp flannel, Harry reentered her room to see her just as he left her. She wordlessly opened her thighs for him when he took up a now familiar position on his knees in front of her. 
"Is it alright if I push up your dress again, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low croon in the quiet of her bedroom. "Jus' gonna clean you." 
"Okay," she answered simply, lifting her hips some as he pushed up the fluttery hem.
Harry made quick work of wiping up her arousal that had dripped to the inside of her thighs and his saliva that he had spread over her intimacy. When he touched her clit, hoping it would be so fast she wouldn't notice, he earned a small hiss, her legs recoiling to close around his hand. 
"Too much," she reminded him, a pout evident in her voice. 
"'M sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, compounding his words with a small kiss to the cuff of her knee, "Almost done, then we'll get ready for bed. You're tired, right?" 
"Yeah," she sighed. 
He didn't waste much time finishing up, signaling he was done with a swift kiss to her hip before standing to his full height. 
"I'll grab some clothes for y'to change into, then we'll cuddle up. Does that sound good?" he prattled, looking over her as she laid still stretched out. 
"Wait," she stopped him, reaching her arms out for him. Harry didn't hesitate before lacing his fingers between hers, though she didn't stop before she had tugged him into laying beside her on the bed. 
A plume of laughter fell from his lips, matching the dimpled smile molding his swollen lips. "What is it, huh?" 
Disentangling their fingers, (Y/N) instead reached out and looped her arms around his neck. Pulling him in for an innocent kiss, she nudged her nose against his. "Thank you." 
"Sweetheart, that was as much for me as it was for you. Trust me," he laughed, planting another one on her lips. Thinking back to her hesitancy before he had indulged in his fantasy, he kept her close, his expression sobering some. "But, I am sorry I made y'think I wasn't interested in doing anything like that with you. Obviously, that's far from the truth, I jus' never found the right moment, I guess. We always had something more important we wanted to do." 
(Y/N)'s lips plucked into a bashful smile, surely thinking of all the other "important" things they took care of in favor of spreading her thighs open with his head. 
"It's okay," she offered, looking at him with a flutter of her lashes as she dropped her eyes to his mouth, "I'm happy we cleared it up, though." 
"Me too," he murmured, tipping his chin and catching her mouth in another sweet kiss. 
This time (Y/N) deepened it just enough to get a taste of his tongue swiping over hers. There was no doubt she'd get a sample of what was tucked between her thighs, seeing as how Harry could still plainly taste her on his buds. 
"Are you sure you're ready to go to bed?" she asked once she pulled away, shuffling that much closer to him amidst the tufts of her duvet. 
"Did you have other plans?" Harry's gaze scanned over her features, not missing the way she flicked her gaze down, as if hoping she could catch a glimpse of his lap. 
"Well," she started, bright eyes meeting his, "I don't know if it'd be very fair if I was the only one that got to feel good tonight." Scooting closer, she was able to lift her leg to lay over his hip, his hard cock pressing into the inside of her thigh. 
"I think we could postpone sleep, right?" 
Landing his hand on her waist, he pushed her to lay on her back before he laid himself over her. 
She nodded up at him, attempting to bite back her smile. "I think that sounds way more fun."
It was the spark of giddy light in her eyes, the excitement hiding behind her shy smile, that had Harry's heart skipping a beat. 
Staying up with her was much more fun than dreaming.
—————
thank you so much to whoever requested this esp for being so patient! sorry for any mistakes and please share any fun ideas!
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
Note
since requests are open, i wanted to ask for pregnant!readerxgojo where the reader is currently 9months pregnant with her first child and is grocery shopping with gojo
details — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: husband!gojo is attentive and I don’t take any criticism on that
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"satoru, get up."
"but I don't wanna!"
taking a deep breath, you thank the heavens for having a husband like gojo. it really prepares you for having a child of your own. you would like to bet that gojo is more difficult than any child out there but you still have to deal with him right now.
you cross your arms and huff, "satoru, we need to go grocery shopping."
satoru grumbles and cuddles the pillow closer. his eyes drifts to you, his pretty wife, and then to your stomach. his lips curve into a small smile and he sighs happily. you're pregnant and soon, you will finally be able to see your little girl.
he will finally be able to hold her in his arms. the thought itself makes him giddy.
"you're really going to leave your very pregnant wife go shopping all by herself?" you pout but he doesn't concede.
he sits up, stretching, "are you implying that my wife is weak?"
"of course not, I am a strong and capable woman on my own!"
he makes his way to you and pulls you close. you look up at him and tilt your head with a cheeky smile, "so you going?"
he hums and presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I can't leave my girls alone, after all," his hand rests on your stomach, "though, I am sure my pretty girl here will protect her mama well."
and it's like she hears and understands him as she lightly kicks. satoru beams then looks you in the eye, "I think I am going to be her favorite," he teases, expecting you to bicker with him, tell him that the favorite will obviously be you.
he wasn't prepared to be met with a gentle smile and eyes so full love it almost scares him.
he gravitates towards your touch anyway cause who is gojo if not a lover of adventure?
the caress of your hand has him melting to putty. you then speak up with a content sigh, "well, you are my favorite so it would be nice if she shares the same sentiment as her mama, no?"
he nods with smile, closing his eyes for a moment then abruptly straightening himself, "okay!" he claps his hands eagerly, "time for shopping!"
so now you two are grocery shopping, more like you though. you look through different brands of each thing and you try to take satrou's opinion. but he is as useful as the shopping cart he is pushing.
"satoru, should I pick this or this?"
"I don't see the difference?"
still, he does provide good company and there are some things that he gets that make you want to hug the hell out of him. for example, you were troubled between two types of spreads and satoru came to the rescue.
he read the ingredients then chose one right away. a part of you thought that he didn't actually give it some thought but then he speaks up, "you're allergic to the other one and it has some ingredients that you hate, sweets," he looks at you, confused, "that should've been an easy choice."
your eyes tear up and you pull him into a tight hug, "SATORU, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!"
and the way he lights up at your affection is so very cute. he returns the hug tenfold—mindful of the little girl in you.
another thing that satoru is pretty good at while shopping with you is attracting attention. attention that he eats up like no other.
he poses and entertains the kids. he is chatting with the aunties and you’re left squeezing the hell of one poor bell pepper. you did bring up putting a leash on him, but, of course, he was encouraging of the idea to the point you had to smack him with a pillow.
“papa needs to be humbled, huh, baby?” you hum to your baby with a smile.
though, something that satoru never lets you forget is that even if he enjoys the attention from others, he truly only craves yours and only yours. one way he does is through his eyes. even when everyone’s focus is on him, his eyes are on you, so full of yearning and adoration.
and both of you know, that at the end of the day, he comes back to you. just like now.
“y/nnn! look what I got!”
you look at him and your jaw drops. satoru is all smiley and joyful…and he has about 10 bags worth of baby clothes, “satoru—I—what—why?!”
he takes his sweet time answering you, “yes: you, baby clothes for our princess, and because she deserves to be spoiled!”
“you just got 20 last week?!”
“I never said I was a ‘careful’ spender,”  he starts rummaging through one of the bags and gets out a box of jewelry, a filled to the brim box of jewelry, “I got you these as well! I remember you brought 2 new dresses and there were others that you couldn’t find matching jewelry for so—are you crying?”
forgetting about the bags, he pulls you into am embrace and coos, “aww, my pretty girl is all sentimental," his thumbs wipe the tears so naturally and he presses sweet kisses to your cheeks, "hormones got you all messed up, baby?"
“I don’t care about the jewelry.”
“ouch.”
you sniffle, “it’s just the fact that you remember these things that gets me all soft.”
“of course, I do!” he starts squeezing your cheeks together, “you’re my baby, my mochi, my honey bunny, my pumpkin—“
whining, you push his hands away, “satoru, people are watching!”
“so?”
you grumble, giving up on literally everything, “let’s just go home,” you yawn a little, “I am feeling a little tired anyways.”
satoru starts carrying the bags right away and he does it with so much ease, you would think he is just folding a piece of paper. on top of that, he doesn’t leave your side and makes sure that he’s there for you to rest or steady yourself.
you don’t get very far though.
“satoru.”
“yes, pretty?”
“my water broke.”
“WHAT?!”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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coryosbaby · 3 months
Note
i need more felix shit from u 😣😣
—Jealous Girl !
Fandom: ‘Saltburn’
Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)
Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.
Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix
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If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.
He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.
And you fucking hate it.
It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.
But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.
Not enough like a lover.
It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.
You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.
The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.
‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’
It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.
And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.
Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.
He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.
“(Y/N!)”
Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.
Felix and her.
Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.
Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.
You can’t look any longer.
You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.
It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.
But he isn’t Felix.
Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.
You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.
It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.
Just how you want Felix to be.
You decide not to return to the party.
Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—
Shit, is this even your hallway?
You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.
Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.
You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.
It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.
“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”
And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.
“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”
Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.
The color drains from your face.
Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.
He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.
Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.
Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.
“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”
Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.
You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.
So much for parties.
When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.
Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.
It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.
You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.
You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.
God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?
Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.
You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.
Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.
You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.
It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.
You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.
“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”
Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.
“And you’re not?”
He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.
“Are you going to behave?”
A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.
“No.”
You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.
“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.
He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.
“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.
“What was that?”
“Yes, I’ll behave.”
He hisses it, and you’re pleased.
“Good boy.”
And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.
The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.
You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.
You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.
It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.
“We need to talk.”
You keep walking, him trailing behind you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”
His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.
“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.
He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”
He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.
He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.
“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”
“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“
You clench your teeth.
“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”
“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”
You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.
God, this is so wrong.
“I think you know.”
Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.
“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”
“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”
You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.
“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“
Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.
You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.
Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.
“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.
“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”
The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?
The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.
“What?”
You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.
“You heard me, Felix.”
His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.
“So that’s what you want?”
It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.
“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”
You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.
“God, you’re sick.”
He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.
“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“
Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.
“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”
“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.
“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”
You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.
“You think that I don’t want you like this?”
It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.
“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“
He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.
“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”
You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.
“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.
“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”
You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.
“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”
That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.
You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.
“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”
You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.
“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”
Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.
After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.
It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.
“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”
“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”
He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.
“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”
“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”
He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.
“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”
He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.
“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”
You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.
Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.
“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”
He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.
He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.
“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.
“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”
“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”
You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.
Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.
He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.
“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”
Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.
“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“
“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.
“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry
2K notes · View notes
aishabbbb · 3 months
Text
You're just so cute!
Part 1 Strawhats x affectionate! reader Can be read as platonic or romantic Synopsis: You love giving out compliments, especially to your crew mates. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, and Nami
LUFFY
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Likes the compliments, especially after Nami berates him.
LOVES compliments on his strength the most, but will beam if you call him smart(since no one else does TT)
Call him pirate king or the greatest pirate and he'll fold immediately.
He is fine with it generally.
Except for being called cute.
Will 1000% pout about it, especially if you call him that in front of Usopp or Chopper cause he wants to be cool yk?
"I'm not cute! What type of pirate is cute!"
Eventually will come around to it begrudgingly(he secretly enjoys it), but will also say it back to you to get you annoyed.
Backfires so bad.
Will try to compliment you back but he kinda sucks.
"You smell like the best meat in the world!"
— Or he is actually very heartfelt and deep out of nowhere
"I love how your eyes dance with the stars."
ZORO
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Hates it
Ok he doesn't ACTUALLY hate it, but will act like he does
He will get all fussy about it like "Yeah, whatever." and huff off somewhere.
Will blush anytime you say anything nice about him(all the time) but NEVER lets you see it.
Actually comes to love the attention from you.
ESPECIALLY about his strength and skill.
Call him the best swordsman ever and you MIGHT see him blush since he'll be so off guard. Just might.
Will compliment you back in private, especially if you're dating.
Isn't one to focus on looks when appreciating someone, but will if you just did. Mostly points out your skills.
After some time, he won't feel embarrassed at all and will get a little cocky.
"You are so cool!" "Of course I am."
"Wow Zoro, you are strong." "Just strong? Give me more credit."
HATES if he see's you complimenting Sanji near him.
Brags to him about how cool you say he is.
NAMI
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First thinks you compliment her to get out of paying her.
"I'm not going to forgive your debt by sucking up to me."
Once she realizes it's genuine, she changes her attitude.
Feels all giddy inside whenever you say anything sweet about her.
She will smile brightly to you and say thanks whenever you do so.
Doesn't have any compliments she dislikes at all
But she appreciates complimemts on her character a lot more.
Being a (former) theif and conartist makes people have a pre conceived notion of her
So saying she's nice or kind makes her feel very happy.
Will compliment you back a lot.
Mostly on skills and character.
But she does forgive some of your debt because you are kind.
USOPP
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Flustered.
He starts stuttering before saying of course!
Tries to stay cool about it but say he is cute or hot and he disappears
With his self esteem, he feels like you don't actually mean what you say.
He WILL ask for assurance if your dating
After realizing you mean it, it will make him feel better about himself
Specifically about his fighting skills
He doesn't think he is that good but you think otherwise
Feels more confident the more you appreciate his talent
Brags about it to everyone
Will uplift you too
Originally to reflect your praise, but later on as actually genuine.
SANJI
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Will evaporate
This man gets soooo flustered.
If you thought Usopp was bad, he will redefine the word.
He just can't commute.
Just tries to have any response but ends up babbling.
Honestly, his flusteredness is so cute.
He will get a nosebleed and may faint depending on the type of compliment.
Call him hot or cool and he will get a nosebleed or faint.
Especially if you say he is cool.
But say he is nice—
This man will freeze.
Feels like he doesn't deserve such praise. Especially from you.
Tries to reject the compliment and compliment you back.
"B-b-but Y/N dearest, you are the most kindest, nicest person to EVER grace this earth!"
You never let him reject it.
So he just ends up accepting the praise.
May cry a little sometimes, particularly if you say he is a good person.
Man NEEDS a hug TT
Starts showing off in combat and in general so he can receive praise from you.
Will do something cool and look at you like a puppy until you notice him.
If you don't he pouts off somewhere else.
He will also brag to Zoro about how cool you think he is
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lalalovejay · 4 months
Text
|| NDA || ~ Lee Heeseung
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♤Pairings: idol!heeseungXfem!fangirl!reader
♤Synopsis: Attending the New York show for Enhypen's first world tour, you find yourself in quite the predicament when a man approaches you and your best friend with a question that leaves you absolutely flabbergasted.
"Would you be willing to sign an NDA?"
♤Warnings: just straight up smut with a little plot, dom!heeseung, sub!reader, protected sex, cunnilingus(f!receiving), p in v, use of pet names (good girl, sir, princess, angel), use of derogatory names (slut, whore), blowjob(m!receiving), fingering(f!receiving), hair pulling, choking, I think that's it
♤Author's Note: This is 1000000% delusional and not based on any true stories. This is my first time writing smut on this platform, so please give me some feedback to help me do better next time! I would really appreciate it:) Also, this has been in my drafts for monthsssss so I finally finished it lol
(MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
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"Hey, you ready to go?" Lucy asks you as she pulls on her boots.
"Yeah, one sec." You say before applying lipgloss over your red stained lips.
Grabbing your bag and lightstick, you follow your best friend out of your hotel room. Lucy skips down the hallway as you laugh at her giddiness.
"I can't believe we're actually gonna see them live! I'm so fucking excited!" Lucy squeals as you both reach the elevators.
Pressing on the button, you look over at her with an excited smile on your face.
"I can not wait to see Jake in real life. I'm so down bad for that man." You sigh at just the thought of him.
Lucy giggles and agrees.
"I need Sunghoon to read my sign and send me a kiss. After that, I can die in peace." She jokes along with you.
The elevator doors ding open before you both step in. Pressing the button for the lobby, you both patiently wait for the elevator to reach the ground level before stepping out.
"What if during Polaroid Love they come up to our section?! Please! I need Heeseung to sing to me!" Lucy groans as she imagines the man staring deep into her eyes as he serenades her.
You giggle at your friend who begins to daydream of concert scenarios.
"If they do come up to our section, I hope I can get Jake's attention." You say as you look down at the Jake photocard that hangs on your concert bag.
"I mean, we're hot. We're bound to get someone's attention, right?" Lucy jokingly says as you two exit the hotel doors and walk to the subway station.
After taking the subways to the venue, you both get in line as the time for the show to start inches closer. You both were able to get your hands on some freebies and banners while you waited.
Going through security and finding your seats, you two excitedly take pictures and videos of the venue and other fans in the crowd as you all wait for the show to begin.
"Holy shit! Holy shit! We're actually here!" You squeal at Lucy, who matches your energy as she holds your hand.
"Please! I need one interaction, and I'll be the happiest girl alive!" She says as she stares at the stage a few feet away from where your section was.
You two were able to find fairly good seats with an amazing view of the stage on the right side of the venue. Only a few rows up and at the end of the row in the aisle. Praying that the boys would come up to your section when they performed Polaroid Love.
Soon, the intro music began to play as the lights dimmed. The VCR begins playing as everyone screams. Lightsticks waving in the air as the screen begins moving. The 7 members of Enhypen on stage ready to give a performance of a lifetime for their loving fans.
You and Lucy scream as your biases face pop up on the big screen. Their stares are very intense as they each get into position to perform their opening song.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT! JAKE MOTHER FUCKING SIM!" You scream as he pops up on screen once again.
The concert goes on as planned. Each performance leaves everyone in awe. You and Lucy fangirling like no other. On this particular night, the fans had come up with a project for Heeseung as it was his birthday. While the members had their talking moment, the fans began singing Happy Birthday when the screen showed Heeseung. His smile was wide as he listened to the fans and members sing him a happy birthday.
In that moment, something switched in you. You always knew that Heeseung was a very attractive man. He was everything a girl wanted. Tall, handsome, funny, sweet, and good at everything.
"I think he just bias wrecked me with that smile." You tell Lucy as your eyes stayed glued onto Heeseung, who laughs slightly as he says his words.
Lucy laughs as she follows your line of sight to the man. His hair had been styled to show his forehead. He was absolutely glowing on his birthday.
"Don't tell Jake." You jokingly threaten Lucy as she shakes her head with a knowing smile on her face.
"Little Miss, I only want Jake Sim, is finally joining the dark side. Lee Heeseung will eventually have you wrapped around his finger. It's a canon event." Lucy says in a matter of fact tone as she goes back to ogling over Sunghoon, who began speaking.
For the rest of the night, your eyes tried to stay on Jake, but you found yourself searching for Heeseung every now and then. His stage presence was very overwhelming, and had you wishing you could see his beautiful face up close.
When Polaroid Love began playing, you and Lucy sang along, not really getting your hopes up of them coming to your section. The moment they ran off stage and began roaming the crowd, you and Lucy screamed in happiness.
Suddenly, the spotlight was shown in your section. You and Lucy look at each other with wide eyes.
"No.fucking.way." She says as you both look back at the group of boys making their way to your section.
You and Lucy scream, even louder, as they get closer. Jungwon leads the way as Jake, Niki and Heeseung follow behind. You and Lucy both stand next to each other as they walk by, Jungwon giving you both a kind smile and a high five. Jake smirks slightly as he sees the 'Jake' sticker on your lightstick. Lucy records the whole thing. Jake sends you a flying kiss before walking further up. Your eyes were too focused on the man to notice that Heeseung was standing directly in front of you after Niki passes by finishing Lucy's hand heart. Lucy pulls on your shoulder to get your attention, her own mouth agape as Heeseung stands in front of you both.
You swing back around and come face to face with a pair of dark eyes, a glint of playfulness swimming in them. You gasp as Heeseung smirks, bringing the mic to his lips as he begins singing to you. Your eyes widen as his eyes stare deeply into your own.
He sends a wink before following after the other boys who begin making their way back to the stage.
"OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?" Lucy screams as she shakes your shoulders.
"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!" You scream back as you both fangirl over your interactions.
"I GOT IT ON CAMERA!" Lucy realizes as she looks down at her phone in her hand.
"Send it to me!" You say as you look back to the stage where they continued performing.
As the night goes on, you could have sworn that Heeseung had been glancing at your section for the rest of the concert. He interacted more with your side, and his eyes found your own a few times throughout the night.
"He wanna fuck." Lucy jokes as she catches Heeseung looking over again.
You chuckle as you enjoy the moment. Trying not to feel super flustered at the whole interaction you had with Heeseung knowing that he was just really good at fan service and you didn't want your delusions to get the best of you.
As the concert comes to an end and you all sadly have to say your goodbyes, the screen closes on the members as the lights turn on once again. You and Lucy stay seated as everyone around you picks up confetti and takes pictures or videos.
"I'm shook. Sunghoon sent me a kiss. I can die happily." Lucy dreamily says as she rewatches her concert videos.
"Let me see the Heeseung interaction again, I need to relive it." You ask Lucy as she scrolls through her camera roll to find the video.
Just as she was about to press play, you felt a tap on your left shoulder. You quickly look up to see who it was that had tapped you. A young Korean man stood before you both. The staff lanyard hanging around his neck.
"Yes?" You ask curiously.
You hoped you hadn't done anything wrong for the staff to come to you personally.
"Hi, I'm part of the staff traveling with the artists. I was asked by their manager to come get you both. He has a few questions and would like to talk." He tells you in a hushed voice so no one else could hear.
Lucy looks at you confused. You look back at her with the same expression.
"Uh, sure?" You say as you get up.
He leads you both towards the exit and into a door that says, 'Employees Only'. Lucy looks over at you nervously as you walk down a narrow hallway bustling with staff cleaning up. The man leads you to a door that says 'Management' and knocks twice.
"Come in!" A voice booms from inside.
He opens the door and steps to the side to allow you both to enter. You look over at Lucy uneasily but step in anyway. There were a lot of people around, so if anything happened, you would be able to scream for help. Lucy follows behind you hesitantly, and the man shuts the door once you both enter.
Two men sit on the couch and chair of the room as you both stand there awkwardly. You notice that the two men were Enhypen managers. Recognizing them instantly because of airport photos.
"Hello! I'm Sejin. Please, sit." The older man introduces himself and gestures to the two chairs across from them.
You look over at Lucy, who just shrugs and takes a seat. You follow her move and sit in the chair beside her.
"Are we in some sort of trouble?" Lucy asks as her eyes glance around the room nervously.
"Not at all! This discussion has to be private in order to protect our artists' image, so we asked to see you in private without the prying eyes and ears. My name is Woobin, by the way." Another manager tells you both.
"So what is this about?" You ask curiously.
Your eyes narrow in on the papers and pen sitting on the table in front of you all. The big letters, 'NDA', are boldly printed at the top. Your eyes widen slightly as you realize what's about to happen. You had only heard stories of this type of thing and never expected it to happen to you.
"Before we discuss any further. Would you be willing to sign an NDA? We can not disclose the topic of this conversation unless we have your full trust that you will not leak, speak, or even hint at having this conversation with us." Sejin asks the two of you.
You look over at Lucy, who looks back at you with wide eyes. Both of you realized exactly what they wanted to talk about.
"Before you make any decisions, may I ask your age and for your ID to confirm?" Woobin asks.
"I'm 21, and she's 20." You say as you and Lucy pull out your own IDs to show them.
Woobin looks it over before handing them to Sejin, who examines them as well. He nods his head before handing them back to you.
"So, will you sign? If you don't feel comfortable with it, it is understandable, and we'll have another staff member walk you two out safely." Sejin reassures you both of your safety.
"I'll sign." Lucy is the first to speak up.
You look at her in bewilderment.
"Lucy." You say her name to gain her attention.
"What? I want to know what they want to talk about. Besides, it's only an NDA. If you read the fine print, you should be fine before signing." Lucy says as she grabs the papers that lay on the table.
You sigh and grab them as well. Reading through the pages, eyes scanning over every printed word down to the page number that is printed on the bottom corner.
"Are you seriously gonna do this?" You ask Lucy.
"When will we ever get the chance to sign an NDA contract with an idol groups manager that we stan? Never. So, yes, I'm doing this." Lucy says as she gives the two men a small smile and picks up the pen to sign her name on the contract line.
You sigh as you contemplate for a little longer. You don't want Lucy to go through this alone. Worried about her safety you stupidly sign your name on the contract as well.
Handing the two contracts back to Woobin, he and Sejin sign their own names and place the contract into a small folder.
"Perfect. Now we can get to talking. The reason for this conversation is that 2 of our artists have asked to meet you both. If you agree, we will have a staff car pick you up from your accommodations and bring you to the artist hotel where you two will meet. Whatever happens between you both must be consensual, or it will be a breach of contract. It must be kept secret and hidden from others, or it will be a breach of contract. Do you both understand?" Sejin begins explaining.
"Yes." You and Lucy say.
"Good. If you would like to meet the 2 artists, you can give us a call at this number, and we will send a car to pick you up. This is all with your own consent, of course. If you decide not to, this conversation will stay between us, or it will be a breach of contract. We will not force you two to do anything you do not consent to. Our top priority is the safety of our artists and of you if you choose to meet with them." Sejin continues and hands you both a small card with only a phone number printed on it.
"Can I ask who the 2 artists are? And which of them asked for who?" Lucy asks them.
"Our artists Sunghoon and Heeseung. Sunghoon has asked for you, Miss Lucy. And Heeseung has asked for you, Miss (Y/N)." Woobin informs you both.
Lucy looks over at you in shock. Her bias had asked to meet with her. While you, on the other hand, had your bias wrecker of the night asking to meet with you.
"Oh 100% I am A okay to meet with Sunghoon." Lucy squeals as the information settles in.
You couldn't believe this was actually happening. Lee Heeseung had asked to meet with you. You. Of all the people he saw in that crowd tonight.
"Well, we have Miss Lucy's consent. How about you, Miss (Y/n)? If you still need time to think about it, we completely understand and will be a phone call away awaiting your answer." Sejin says.
"Okay." You whisper.
"I'm sorry?" Sejin asks, not hearing you properly.
"I said okay. I agree to meet with Heeseung." You tell him a little louder.
Your heartbeat drums in your ears as you continue to let the information sink in. Lucy squeals happily beside you as the two men give you both a reassuring smile.
"Great! You're more than welcome to return to your accommodations. The 2 should be back in their hotel rooms right about now. Since today is Heeseung's birthday, he will be doing a live before meeting with you. Will you both be okay with meeting the two around 12:30 am?" Sejin asks.
Lucy quickly nods her head.
"Yes! We'll be ready by then." She answers for you both.
Sejin smiles.
"Perfect. Just call the number when you're ready. Woobin will escort you ladies out. It was nice meeting you both." Sejin says and reaches his hand out for a handshake.
You take his hand and give it a firm shake in gratitude as Lucy does the same after you. Woobin gestures for you two to follow him out of the room and back into the once bustling hallway. The staff had cleaned up pretty much everything, and the hallway was now empty. He leads you towards the exit and allows security to walk you out the door.
Once you two make it outside, Lucy jumps up in excitement.
"Oh my god....that just happened." You finally realize the situation you were both in.
"I'm gonna get dicked down by my bias. This is fucking wild." Lucy laughs as she wraps an arm around your shoulders.
"I knew Heeseung wanted to fuck when he came up to you with that look in his eyes. He wanted you so bad, I'm telling you." Lucy says as you both walk back to the subway station.
Getting back to your hotel room, Lucy quickly rummages through her luggage for something presentable to wear for Sunghoon.
"Good thing we got waxed for this trip." Lucy jokes as she pulls out an over-sized button-up and a pair of biker shorts.
"I'm gonna rinse off the sweat from the concert. Feel free to look through my clothes if you don't have anything." Lucy winks at you before walking into the bathroom.
It was currently 11:56pm. Your weverse notifies you that a member of Enhypen was now live. Unlocking your phone, you click on the notification that brings you to the app and into the live. On the screen pops up Heeseung with his birthday cake. He's dressed in a black hoodie with the hood up. His dangly earrings sway every time he moves his head.
His bare face takes your breath away as you realize that you will be meeting with this man in less than an hour. You quickly rummage through your luggage for something to wear as the live continues playing in the background. Opting for something casual yet easily accessible, you pull out a pair of spandex and a hoodie. Opting for the only matching set you brought with you, the lacy white set begs for you to wear it and finally get some action. You weren't even sure what possessed you to bring a lingerie set in the first place, but you thanked the gods you did.
Lucy comes out from the bathroom dressed in her button-up and shorts. Her hair had been recurled slightly to give it a little more volume. You could tell she had retouched her makeup as well.
"Heeseung is live right now. I'm gonna rinse off as well and change." You tell Lucy as you walk into the bathroom with your clothes.
Lucy immediately snatches your phone and watches the live. Giggling as she realized the other members had entered and began celebrating with him.
After you get ready and make sure you have all your things, Lucy dials the number on the card. It was currently 12:23 am. The person on the other line asks for the hotel name and says that a car would be ready for them in 10 minutes.
Nerves settle into the pit of your stomach as the time inches closer and closer.
"Am I really about to have a one night stand with Lee Heeseung?" You ask Lucy who only laughs at your question.
"Yes. You're about to get a taste of South Korea." She winks at you before pulling you out the door and towards the elevator.
The entire ride to the hotel had your stomach in twists. Nerves eating at you as you enter the hotel Enhypen and their staff were currently staying in. You play with the hem of your hoodie as you both ride the elevator up to the floor the members are currently staying on.
"Sunghoon is in room 70G, and Heeseung is in 72G." The staff member informs you both as you reach the 7th floor of the hotel.
"Thank you." You say to the staff member as you exit the elevator.
Lucy holds your hand tightly as you walk down the quiet hallway towards the rooms. Your eyes scan the numbers on the doors, searching for the one that currently occupies the idol who had asked to meet you. You both reach 70G first. Meaning Lucy will be leaving you alone for the rest of the night.
"Have fun." Lucy winks at you before knocking on the door.
A moment later, the door is being pulled open by none other than Park Sunghoon himself. His eyes glance over at you for a second before going back to Lucy.
"Hi." He says quietly as he opens the door a little wider for Lucy to enter.
Lucy gives you a thumbs up before stepping in. Sunghoon bows his head slightly to you before shutting the door behind Lucy.
You mentally curse at yourself as you awkwardly walk to the room with 72G plastered on its door. Taking in a deep breath, you bring your hand up to knock on the door. You hear shuffling and the sound of someone walking over before the door is being pulled open. Heeseung stands before you with his hood still on the way you had seen it when you were watching his live earlier.
"Hi." You manage to squeak out as Heeseung's eyes look you up and down.
A different look in them now compared to the sweet eyes you had seen on his live. He smirks slightly.
"Hi." He says back to you before stepping aside and pulling the door open wider to allow you entry.
You nervously step forward and enter the hotel room. Heeseung closes the door behind you both and leads you further into the room. You see the partially eaten cake sitting on the desk and the fallen balloons on the second bed.
"Uh, I just ended the live not too long ago, so don't worry about the camera." Heeseung reassures you as he points at the camera that sits on the tripod in front of the cake.
You already knew that because your phone had been playing his live the entire time you were on the way over. He had ended the live before you reached his door.
"No worries!" You smile up at the man before you.
His height towering over your small frame as you awkwardly shift from leg to leg. Heeseung chuckles before taking your bag from your hand and setting it on the table behind him.
"So, what's your name?" He asks you as he sits down on the rolling chair and gestures for you to take a seat on the edge of the bed.
You follow his lead and sit down before stuffing your hands in your hoodie pockets out of nervousness. Heeseung was wearing a pair of gray sweats along with his black hoodie that looked so good on him. His face looked 10 times better bare. His smile sent arrows into your heart, whereas his smirks sent a chill down your spine.
"My name is (Y/n)." You tell him as your eyes dart around the room.
Heeseung finds you cute as you try not to make eye contact with him.
He chuckles before getting up from the chair and standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as you look up at him from your seated position. The tension filling the air quickly. His eyes hooded as he looked down at you with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
"You're very pretty." Heeseung compliments you.
He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face. Thumb pressed gently on your bottom lip.
"Is this okay?" He asks you.
You can't speak. Only nodding your head slightly.
"I need words, princess. Can I touch you?" He asks.
His voice two tones deeper than usual. The arousal clear in his eyes. You feel the butterflies swarming your stomach at the pet name.
"Yes." You say as you continue looking up at him with slightly wide eyes.
Heeseung smirks.
"Good girl." He says before pressing his thumb past your lips and onto your tongue.
You raise a hand up to wrap around his wrist gently. Closing your lips around his thumb, you suck on his finger. Heeseung chuckles at the sight of you.
"Are you gonna let me ruin you tonight, angel?" Heeseung pulls his thumb from your mouth to allow you to answer him.
"Yes, sir." You find yourself falling into submission for him rather quickly.
Heeseung's eyes darken at the name given to him.
"How do you like it, baby? I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable." Heeseung asks.
Reassuring you that he won't take advantage of you and will abide by your consent.
"I like it rough, sir. Wanna cry for you. Wanna make you feel good, sir." The confidence rising in you as Heeseung's eyes eat you up.
"Fuck." He groans before leaning down to crash his lips against your own.
Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping at the roots as one of his hands wraps around your throat gently, and the other slides up your hoodie to grip your waist. Pushing you down on the soft bed, lips smacking, teeth clashing, tongues colliding. The kiss is heated and messy as you both move further up along the bed to get into a more comfortable position.
Heeseung has his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you beneath him. His hand that grips your waist moves up slightly to touch the underside of your right boob. You sigh at the feeling of his some what rough hands on your skin.
"Take it off." Heeseung commands, gesturing to your hoodie.
You waste no time sitting up slightly to pull off your hoodie and toss it to the side. Your white lace bra cupping your tits perfectly on display for Heeseung to see. He moans slightly at the sight, his hands coming down to grope them.
"You look so pretty in white, angel. Is this all for me?" Heeseung asks.
You moan at his touch. Heeseung places kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Sucking harshly and leaving marks down your clavicle to your chest. One of his hands pulls down the lacy cup of the bra and frees your left breast. Nipples hard as your arousal kicks in. Your hands grip the sheets beneath you.
"Yes, sir. All for you." You moan out when he begins teasing your nipple.
Heeseung wraps his lips around the free breast, sucking and biting on your nipple while his other hand continues groping your other one. Giving both of your boobs plenty of attention. You feel the wetness pooling in your panties at the stimulation.
"So good, sir." You moan.
Praising Heeseung for the pleasure he's giving you.
Heeseung pulls away to slip off his own hoodie. Staring down at you with lust filled eyes. You admire his body. Lean and fit. His abs faintly showing and his v-line directing your eyes to his achingly hard cock straining against his sweatpants. Just the outline alone had you drooling. He was big. Long and thick.
Heeseung smirks down at you as he catches you shamelessly gawking over his naked torso.
You gulp slightly as you meet his dark eyes once again.
"You can touch me, angel." He chuckles.
Your hands move on their own accord as they roam down his chest. Feeling his hot skin beneath your palms. Every dip of his muscles. You were in absolute shock that you were touching one of your idols in this way.
Heeseung places a hand on your own, guiding you further down to where he wanted to feel you the most. Palming his hard on with your own soft hands, he groans at the contact.
"Was thinking about this the entire time I was performing. Saw you screaming so prettily for us. Wanted to hear you scream my name only." Heeseung tells you.
You gasp as he wraps your fingers around his clothed cock. Your thighs squeezing together underneath him.
"Wanna see you, sir. Wanna have my mouth full of you, please." You whine.
He smirks at your words.
"Anything you want, princess." Heeseung says before sliding off the bed to help you down on your knees.
You stare up at him through your lashes as you slide his sweatpants further down his hips and past his mid thigh. Dragging his briefs down with it. His aching cock springing up to gently slap at his lower stomach. The tip red and leaking with precum. His dick print did nothing in preparing you for his actual bare cock. It was a pretty pink with a few prominent veins from the base to the tip. He was long and fairly thick.
You lick your lips as you look up at Heeseung for permission to continue. He chuckles before pulling on your hair and holding it back for you.
"Go on, angel." Heeseung gives you the go.
You wrap a hand around his base, squeezing slightly to get a good feel of his weight. He hisses through his teeth when he finally feels your soft hands wrapped around him. His dark eyes never once leaving your dirty ministrations below him. You collect some saliva into your mouth before spitting on his cock. Using it as a lubricant to move your hand quicker up and down his dick. He groans as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. Sucking lightly and licking his slit. Your other hand comes up to grope his balls. Toying with them as your lips move further down his hard length. The feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him has Heeseung in a daze.
"Fuck. You're not an angel at all. You're just a filthy cock whore aren't you? Letting someone you don't even know fuck your mouth like this. I'm gonna fuck you so hard and ruin you for anyone else. Not even Jake would be able to please you like I will." Heeseung harshly says as he takes over and thrusts his cock down your throat.
You gag slightly at his sudden move. Not prepared yet to take him so far. Your eyes water as he pulls out of your mouth with his tip resting on your bottom lip. Heeseung smirks before slipping his cock back in your mouth, fucking your face for his own pleasure. You said you liked it rough so Heeseung was gonna give you just that.
You obediently sit on your knees and let him fuck your throat. Trying to relax your muscles as much as you could with him slipping further and further down. Your hands grip onto his flexed thighs, nails leaving an imprint on his fair skin as you try and breathe. The sounds of you gagging and Heeseung's groans fill the room entirely. You stare up at the man before you, looking god sent as he basks in the feeling of your mouth.
"Fuck me." He curses as he feels his orgasm approaching.
He looks down at your teary eyes, cheeks red and lips puffy. God, you looked so beautiful.
"Gonna cum for my cock whore. Are you gonna take it all, baby? Be my good girl?" Heeseung asks as his thrusts slow down slightly to grant you some mercy.
You nod your head, greedily sucking in as much air as you could before Heeseung decides to slip down your throat for much longer this time. Tears fall from your eyes at the sudden move. You couldn't breathe but you tried your best to get Heeseung to cum quickly.
He groans as he feels his orgasm washing over him. Releasing his cum down your throat.
"Fuck!" He moans out, throwing his head back at the feeling of his high.
He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still semi-hard as he watches you swallow his cum. A few drops dripping down your chin. Heeseung swipes his finger across your chin to pick up the rest of his cum that dripped past your lips. He slips his cum coated finger into your sore mouth, letting you suck the rest of it off. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all like a good girl.
"What a dirty whore." Heeseung smirks before pulling you onto your feet and crashing his lips against your own.
You whimper against his tongue that intrudes your mouth. Tasting you and his own cum on your tongue. His hands snake around your body and greedily unclasps your bra. You gasp against his lips at the feeling of your bare chest meeting the cool air of the room.
"The most perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." Heeseung compliments.
Pushing your body gently onto the bed, your back against the soft sheets. Heeseung pulls your shorts down, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties.
"I wanna taste you, baby. Will you let me have a taste?" He asks you as he lays in between your open legs.
Kissing up your soft thighs closer and closer to your needy core. You moan at the feeling of his soft lips against your warm skin.
"Yes, sir. Want you so bad. Please. Please. Please." You give him consent to eat you out.
Heeseung wastes no time in diving in. The sweet smell of you intoxicating his senses. He kisses your wet slit through your lace panties. The embarrassingly wet patch soaking through the thin fabric. Bringing his fingers up to your clothed pussy, he slips the thin material to the side allowing him to see your pretty pussy up close. Blowing slightly on your sensitive core, teasing you to wrap your thighs around his shoulders.
"Don't tease, sir. Please. Been so good for you." You beg him.
"Wanna take my time with you, angel. I don't know if I'll ever be able to have this pussy ever again." Heeseung says before licking a stripe up your folds to your clit.
Sucking on the sensitive bud, you moan out loud at the pleasure that travels up your spine. Your needy pussy finally getting the attention it wanted. Your right hand finds solace in Heeseung's hair, gripping harshly making Heeseung moan against your cunt. Your left hand grips onto the pillow you're currently laying on. The sweet pleasure sending you into a state of euphoria. You've never been the biggest fan of someone eating your cunt but the way Heeseung absolutely makes out with your pussy like it's the only thing he lives for has you on cloud nine.
"FUCK!" You scream out when you feel Heeseung's two fingers enter your tight hole.
His fingers curling just right against your warm walls. Lips sucking and tongue licking your pussy like a man starved. Heeseung watches your every expression. The way your eyes roll back and clench shut every time he sucks on your clit. How your head is thrown back when his fingers reach deeper inside of you. He probably enjoyed this more than you were. His cock already achingly hard once again at just your noises alone. The way you moan out curse words and his name.
He wasn't sure how he was supposed to let you go after this. He was drunk on you and your body. The way it reacted to him had him praying he'd see you again after this.
You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as Heeseung sucks harshly on your clit.
"DON'T STOP! OH GOD I'M GONNA CUM!" You tell Heeseung.
His fingers pump in slightly quicker to get you to reach your high. Heeseung is messy as he laps at your cunt. It only takes him one last pump of his fingers to have you tipping over the edge.
"FUCK ME!" You moan out as your legs shake around his shoulders.
Locking him in as he licks you through your orgasm. Your cum dripping out and around his fingers, staining his chin and the sheets below you both.
You whimper as the overstimulation settles in. Unlocking your weak legs from around his shoulders and pushing his head away from your sensitive pussy.
"Too much, sir." You weakly tell him.
The aftershocks of your mind blowing orgasm leaving you hazy.
"Tastes so fucking sweet, baby girl. Could eat you for the rest of my life." Heeseung says, sucking on his cum soaked fingers.
You bite your lip at the sight of him. His eyes are hooded and dark, his face filled with pure pleasure.
"Fuck me please, sir. Wanna feel your big cock stretching my pussy. It's all yours, sir. All for you, Heeseung." You whine.
Sitting up from your position, lips attaching to his once again to taste yourself on his tongue. Heeseung slips out of his sweats and briefs. Pumping his hard cock and pushing you back down on the bed. His lips never leaving your own as he pushes your knees up to your chest.
"Gonna fuck this pretty pussy until you're cumming around my cock, princess. Wanna see you cry for me like you promised. Make me the happiest birthday boy, yeah?" Heeseung teases you.
"Yes, please. Wanna give you the best birthday gift, sir." You tell him.
Heeseung pulls out a condom from the nightstand beside the bed. Ripping the wrapper with his teeth, he rolls the condom onto his hard cock and aligns himself with your tight hole. You both gasp as the tip of his cock slips into your wet pussy. Not wanting to waste any more time teasing. Heeseung stares deeply into your eyes. Pushing your knees further down against your chest, he slips into you deeper. Moaning at the feeling of your tight and warm pussy wrapping around him, Heeseung slips a hand around your neck and lightly squeezes.
He bottoms out in your pussy, pushing all the way in in one swift movement. You whimper when you feel the tip of his cock push past your walls and kiss your cervix. He was definitely the biggest and thickest cock you've ever had. The slight pain quickly turning into pleasure.
"Please fuck me, sir. Want it rough. Wanna cum on your cock so bad." You say breathlessly as you stare into Heeseung's eyes.
"Fuck." Was all Heeseung could say before pulling out of your pussy and slamming back in to you roughly.
His hips move mercilessly as he thrusts into your soaking cunt at a pace that has you seeing stars. You weren't even sure where all this strength came from. He had just finished an almost 3 hour concert yet he was fucking into you like he had all the stamina in the world.
Heeseung's hand squeezes your neck tighter. His cock brushing against your womb with every thrust.
"So. Fucking. Tight." He groans out the words between each quick move of his hips.
The sound of skin on skin and your moans fill the hotel room. You completely forget that your best friend was also in the room next door probably also getting her back blown out by Sunghoon.
"Oh shit. Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes!" You can't get a proper sentence out.
Heeseung was fucking you too good. It had been a while since you last got laid, but none of your past sexual partners could ever compare to Heeseung.
He truly was ruining you for anyone else.
"My dirty slut. Pussy so wet and welcoming for me. It's all mine. Say it. Say this pussy belongs to me." Heeseung let's his possessiveness run wild.
He knew you weren't his, but hearing you say it would push him closer to the edge. He needed to hear you say you were his.
"Fuck! It's all yours. This pussy is only yours." Your mind is hazy as the words spill out.
The tightening knot in your stomach about to break away. Tears fall from your glossy eyes as Heeseung tightens his hold around your throat.
"I can feel you clenching around me so tightly, princess. Are you gonna cum? Go ahead and cum all over me, baby. Wanna feel you cream my cock." Heeeseung says as he rests on his knees and pulls your hips higher to fuck into you at a different angle.
The change in position has the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot head-on. A loud moan rips from your throat at the new feeling.
"FUCK! I'm cumming." You let him know before you completely let go of the tight knot.
Your second orgasm washing over your body in waves. Thighs trembling by Heeseung's sides as both his hands move down to grip your waist tightly. He wasn't far behind you as he fucks you through your high and into overstimulation.
"Cum for me, sir. Please." Your eyes glossy, lips parted, and hair a beautiful mess against the white sheets.
Heeseung wishes he could take a picture of just how good you looked at this moment all fucked out on his cock.
"Shit." He moans out as he finally tips over the edge and cums into the condom.
His thighs clench tightly as he shoots his cum into the rubber. It flows out around the base of his cock and slides down the back of your thighs and to your ass. He couldn't believe he came so much that it leaked out from the condom. It's never happened with anyone else he's been with.
Letting your waist go, he leans down to connect your lips once again. This time, it was a little slower and more sensual. Not hungry or needy.
"Thank you." Heeseung says as he pulls away from you to stare at you.
You finally feel the shyness creeping back up on your face as you come out of your sex haze.
"For what?" You ask him after a few seconds of silence.
He smiles his dazzling smile down at you and pecks your lips.
"For giving me the best gift this year." He tells you.
You cover your face with your hands as the heat creeps onto your cheeks. Heeseung chuckles at your embarrassment and presses soft kisses to the backs of your hands and wrist. Gently prying your hands away so he could see you again.
He was still soft inside you, and you felt very sticky between your thighs, but you didn't mind because having Heeseung close to you like this was something you could only ever dream of.
"Let's get washed up, yeah? Then we'll figure out what to do next." He suggests.
You look up at him in slight shock. You expected him to just ask you to leave quietly after this, but his words insinuated he wanted to spend more time with you.
You agree to the washing up part, so Heeseung slips out of you and throws the used condom away. Heeseung asks you to join him in the shower, and so you do. He gently washes you and pampers you with soft kisses against your shoulders and neck. Making you cum for the third time that night on his fingers. Heeseung really couldn't get enough of you.
When you both finished and you were dressed in nothing but one of his large clean shirts, you two lay on the other bed in the room and get to know one another better.
You tell Heeseung about your job back at home, your family, your best friend that was currently still next door, and how you got into Enhypen.
Heeseung tells you stories of his life when he was a trainee, his time on I-Land, the other members, and even about his family.
You two were really getting close, and you hadn't even realized it was nearing 3 in the morning. Talking to Heeseung came easily. He wasn't judgemental and had a comforting aura that just made you feel welcome. You didn't feel like a fan and their idol.
Just you and Heeseung.
Two regular people.
"I don't think I can let you go after this." Heeseung tells you honestly as he looks over at you.
He had been playing with your fingers while you told him about a childhood story.
You feel your heart stop at that moment. Your eyes finding his own to see if he was just saying it to fuck with you or not. A nervous smile plays on his lips as he adverts his gaze to the ceiling. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you fully observe the actual beauty that makes up Lee Heeseung.
"I think we'll get in trouble if we keep in touch." You tell him.
He sighs and nods his head.
"I know. But.....you can keep a secret, right?" A mischievous look dances in his eyes as he finally looks over at you.
You smirk up at him.
"I didn't sign an NDA for no reason." You joke.
1K notes · View notes
asmosmainhoe · 3 months
Note
Hiii! I hope you're doing well 🫶💍
Can I please ask your headcannons about how would lucifer, mammon, satan, beel, diavolo and barbatos react if MC offers to put chapstick on their lips?
I know it's a strange ask, but imagine this scenario: It's gotten really cold suddenly (in? On? At?) the devildom and MC notices said character has chapped lips and seems very uncomfortable with it. She offers them her (can be gn!reader but I'm using she/her for better explaining) chapstick and they deny, but she insistist in putting on them, and they feel giddy because she's caring so softly for them 😭😭😭
I'm feeling the vibe of soft casual love today. It's okay if you don't answer, but I'd be really happy if you did! Lots of love, stay warm 🩷🩷🩷
MC offers their chapstick
Note: Huh my motivation is partly back
Gender: neutral
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Lucifer
He says that he doesn't need it of course even though he really does and you offering your chapstick makes him notice his dry lips even more
You already left him so he could continue to work in peace, but your words simply don't let him go
His tongue keeps darting out to lick over his lips which makes it only worse and the feeling bothers him more with every second
Only half an hour passes until he looks for you around the house to ask if the offer still stands
Mammon
WHAT?! YOUR CHAPSTICK?! BUT IT WAS ON YOUR LIPS FIRST! SO IT WOULD BE LIKE A KISS MQJSBAJAN
He immediately short circuits and isn't responding for a couple seconds
"If you're really insistin'."
Mammon snatches the chapstick away from you and puts on a thick layer
"I actually thought that I could put it on you, but that works too I guess."
He's devastated
You better be prepared to share it some more in the future, because he will ask for it on a regular basis and don't even think about buying him one. He wants yours
Satan
A light blush is forming on his cheeks and ears upon your offer, but he'd be a fool to decline it. It's the closest he can get to a kiss for now after all especially when you get so close to his face to put it on
He takes an extra moment to rub his lips properly together and is surprised by the pleasant taste. Would a kiss taste like this as well? The thought alone makes him become even more red
"Should I buy you one too?"
"No, but thank you. I don't need it that often."
Wrong! He just wants an excuse to use yours
Beelzebub
Of course he's not one to say no to that! It's so kind of your to offer it in the first place. Not many people are paying as much attention to him as you do
Much to your surprise though Beel leans forward with his eyes closed which makes you think for a second that he's actually about to kiss you
Beel shoots a small smile in your direction as he thanks you. Ugh, so handsome...
You make sure to offer him your chapstick more often in the future
Diavolo
"Oh, I didn't even notice that my lips are so dry!"
"So can I put it on then?"
"Absolutely!"
Much like Beel he has to bend over a little bit so you could reach him better
Being this close to him really makes you realize just how attractive he is. As if having the prince of hell only inches away from your face isn't intimidating enough
But he seems to genuinely enjoy it
Barbatos
No idea how this man manages to take such good care of his appearance while handling so many tasks
So it's kind of a big thing when you notice that his lips are super dry AND HE EVEN APOLOGIZES FOR "BEING SUCH A MESS" LIKE BABE IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL
"Thank you so much for pointing it out. Could you maybe be so kind and put it on for me? I'm afraid my hands are full at the moment."
ANYTHING FOR YOU, LOVE
It's a short moment, but somehow incredibly intimate
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
Text
Eddie’s on the couch shirtless, and Steve is having a full-on crisis.
Eddie’s bare chest is on full display on Robin and Steve’s couch, and Steve is having a full-blown, how did this not click til now, crisis.
Steve knows he’s staring. Knows he needs to stop staring. Eddie is going on a rant to them, something about society or something metal (he got distracted when Eddie whipped his shirt off), and Steve should really pay attention because he knows Eddie is going to quiz him after.
For someone who hates school so much, Eddie sure likes to test Steve.
Robin comes up behind Steve, slurping her slushy. “Oh no. I know that face. It finally caught up to you, didn’t it?”
Steve breaks his state to give Robin a wide-eyed look. “What—how—I—“ Steve’s shoulders sag; there is no point in hiding from Robin. “How’d you know?”
“Please, babe, I’ve been waiting. Glad to know you actually sped-run this. Was thinking you were going to pull a me and wait til Jenny Rodriguez asks to practice the stage kiss with you before you realized.”
“I have so many questions.”
“Don’t bother; nothing happened except me falling off the stage at rehearsal.”
Steve laughs but then chokes when he glances back at Eddie. “I think my brain just exploded, Robs. What do I do?”
Robin pats his back sympathetically, “There, there. Nothing you can do, bud. Just got to ride the gay thoughts wave.”
Steve makes a distressed noise. Robin rubs circles on his back.
Eddie interrupts their moment (clueless to the evident lesbian bisexual solidarity happening), “So what do you guys think? Should I get the sword here?” Eddie drags his hand slowly down his sternum.
“I need you to take it back.” Steve whips his head torwards Robin.
“Take it back?”
“The crisis, take it back.” Steve all but begs Robin.
“Sorry, there is a no refund policy. You can use it or push it to the side; it’s up to you. But either way, that baby is yours.” Robin uses her straw to emphasize her point.
Eddie tilts his head confused, “Uuuh guys? The tattoo?”
Steve waits a moment before responding. “Good.”
“I’m going to need more than that Stevie.”
“Good. Will look good on you. Anything looks good on you.” Steve has to resist shoving his face into his hands. He can feel the rush of heat up to his cheeks.
Eddie’s face breaks into a brilliant, and a little smug, smile. “Awe, thanks, sweetheart. Glad to know I got the Harrington approval.”
“You don’t need my approval to look good.” Steve was going to throw himself off the roof of their apartment. That didn’t even make any sense.
Eddie snorts, “Okay big boy. Whatever you say.”
It comes off flirtier than Steve thought a sarcastic comment could be. This time instead of responding, Steve just caves into the embarrassment, turns around, and starts lightly thumping his head into the wall.
“Eddie, c’mon, you broke him! Now I’m going to have to reboot him…again.”
Steve doesn’t see his face but doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s face is downright giddy. “Sorry.”
Steve doesn’t think he’s very sorry at all.
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junipers-archive · 1 year
Text
Sweater
Tumblr media
Word Count: 600
Includes: fluff! the team finds out about reader x Spencers relationship when you show up to work wearing one of his sweaters
"Y/n." It was Penelope, she was whispering conspicuously as you entered the office heading for the conference room.
"Goodmorning!" You answer quickly as you were already running late due to your much needed coffee run this morning.
She begins to trail after you. "Y/n."
You stop, now wondering what's wrong, especially as all the heads in the room begin looking towards you as you walk in. But it isn't until Derek speaks up that you're hinted as to why,
"So you and pretty boy finally did it?" Oh no.
You mind races trying to figure out how he knew. Did Spencer tell him? You'd agreed not to tell anyone at first so you wouldn't cause absolute chaos. But it's been sixth months you guess it's be perfectly reasonable if-
"Your-your Sweater...its Spencers." Penelope elaborates, calming you rampant mind, all at the same time making it spasm.
You look down silently at what you're wearing, its almost identical as your regular getup, but because you were really running late this morning you'd grabbed a sweater from the couch in your shared apartment on your way out.
Completely missing the fact it was Spencers. It had been a soft cobalt blue color crew neck, one of his favorites with little designs lining it in navy...and also one he wore quite often.
You stared in both disbelief from how you'd manage to grab the one he used most consistently and also at your own stupidity and how you'd failed to notice the whole car ride here.
You look up bewilderedly, to find your colleagues staring at you all in varying ways, Derek was grinning, Rossi was smirking, Penelope had taken to a worried/excited look, Emily was respectfully trying to hide her smile and even Hotch was pretending to read the papers in front of him to avoid eye contact.
You attempt a reply calmly but stammer despite yourself,
"I-I-we-um"
closing your eyes to focus your thoughts and breathe, you open them to find Spencer your lovely boyfriend entering or rather staggering into the room.
He had taken the long route so you'd show up at different times,
"Hi! Sorry I'm late-I just-I-What-why's everybody looking at me like that?"
Everyone shaking their heads and smiling to themselves ignored his question as Penelope began to brief all of you on the case.
You hope the subject will be forgotten.
But of course it won't be, and surprisingly its Hotch that asks once the case had been explained and he'd called wheels up,
"Are you two dating?"
Everyone was still seated, waiting for something to be said, and you could see the pleasure in all their faces as he uttered the question.
Spencer swallowed though, not having become aware of the situation even after you'd tried to pass him a note like some third grader.
It had read: I'm wearing your sweater!
To which he'd simply responded with, I'm sure no one's noticed.
Having of course not been aware of your previous interaction with the team.
"We-uh-well-" he tried to begin
"Yes. We are dating." You had to confirm it, knowing if you didn't it would only make matters worse in the long run.
To that Hotch gave his lopsided smirk, "I'm Happy for you, but I'm not thrilled to do the paperwork."
The team of course having heard, errupted in giggles, reminiscent of child like giddy as they finally took it as their cue to leave.
And as they filed out Spencer received several pats on the backs and "good going reid" from Rossi and Derek as you yourself had been berated with questions from Emily and Penelope and "I swear to god if he hurts you-"'.
But as you both shyly retreat, gather your things and exit you agree that the best reaction had been from Hotch as he whispered quietly before he left,
"Well I guess I have to let you room together now."
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ssahotchnerr · 6 months
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ALSO ALSO ALSO, Aaron keeping a pair of readers fuzzy socks in his go-bag for reader when a case is rough/they’re in a super cold area/just because 🤭🤭🤭
perfect pair
SCREAMING i'm setting this in the alaska episode it's the first thing my mind went to <33 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff!!!!!
even with the burning fire going, countless chills continuously rushed through your body; you were shaking in place.
upon receiving word the case was in alaska, the customary temperature had been an afterthought. sure, you had packed (some of) your winter trappings; long sleeves, a heavy lined coat, boots. but you hadn't thought to layer, pack a set of gloves or a hat, wool socks rather than your usual cotton ones. rather, the excitement of purely being able to say you're going to alaska, of all places, had taken priority.
even today as you were getting dressed, you managed to talk aaron into lending you one of his favored quarter-zips. 'talk into' was a loose term, he hadn't needed the persuasion; you asked, he immediately accepted - never the one to deny you wearing his clothing, or the extra, provided warmth.
on the bright side, however, you had been hunkered down at the inn with penelope, researching the residents of the small town and not needing to brace the cold. but you might as well been, the heat coming through the air vents wasn't nearly enough, especially when the door frequently opened and the cold air drifted in. the fire was slowly weakening, and just thinking about the cold, made you freezing. the lingering frigidness was numbing your feet within your shoes, your fingers were just as biting - the bitterness was painful.
you were counting down the minutes until the day ended, eager to be warm in the comfort of bed, curled up with aaron 'the furnace' hotchner - the best perk of minimal rooms available and having to double-up. the two of you didn't typically share quarters while on the job, wanting to uphold professionalism, so this was a welcomed treat.
but when aaron had entered (and brought yet another rush of crisp air with him) to regroup with you and penelope, to discuss findings that would contribute to the profile, and hopefully narrow your search down, all he had to do was take one look of you shivering.
aaron walked behind the couch you were seated at, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a squeeze hello, before heading up the stairs. at the gesture, you were quick to look up and acknowledge him, giving him a soft smile before your attention returned to penelope's screen.
aaron came back down a minute or two later, lightly tossing something onto your lap. it landed softly, but you still jumped a smidge, taking you by surprise.
you were met with your polka-dot fuzzy socks, a pair you hadn't seen in your drawer quite in a while, actually. your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, grabbing the soft sherpa material and turning the pair over, analyzing as if you've never seen them before.
"you had these?" your eyes shot back up to aaron, arching an eyebrow in an accusatory, but playful, manner. the ends of your lips tugged upwards in a smile, your heart warming.
"given the circumstances, i'm sure you're glad i did." aaron's face matched your cheeky expression, a light smirk on his face. but he dropped the teasing demeanor, his gentleness returning, "i packed them into my go-bag a while ago. i figured they come in handy in one way or another, at some point. for comfort, warmth, when your ice cold feet touch my leg at night." his eyes smiled at you, and you couldn't help but grin.
aaron's immense, loving look was enough to melt everything in you, physically warming you. the sensation started in the middle of your chest, fanning out to the rest of your body, leaving you toasty and almost giddy.
forget the socks, layers, fireplace - all you needed was aaron.
"god that's adorable." penelope chimed in, who had been listening so quietly you'd forgotten she was there, a slight whine present in her voice, "never thought i'd be crying over a pair of socks, but here we are."
she turned back to her laptop, but her fingers paused above the keyboard, as thought came to her. her gaze drifted back towards you and aaron, a tickled glint in her eyes. "wait, i take that back. you two are the most, adorable pair."
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