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#so he’ll be left off to give the others a chance
fistfuloflightning · 14 days
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earthtooz · 7 months
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Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx
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x : DISTANCE :*+゚
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
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Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 
“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”
“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  
Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 
When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing six in the evening.”
“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 
“Thank you,” you murmur.
“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 
“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 
“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 
“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”
“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.
“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”
“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I find it funny.” 
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”
“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”
“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 
He pouts. “When will you be home?”
“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”
“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”
“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”
“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 
“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”
“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”
“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 
“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 
“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 
“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.
“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.
“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
“How did you discover this place?” You ask.
“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”
“I take it you like it here then?”
“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 
“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”
“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”
“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 
“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Is it working?” 
“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”
“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 
“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 
Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 
It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  
“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
“Long day?”
“Draining too,” he murmurs. 
“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 
The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 
“Did you do anything today to earn it?”
“I need to earn my kisses now?”
“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 
You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-
“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 
“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 
There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 
“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 
“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 
It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
“Dunno. Just double checking.”
“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
“Yeah.”
“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.
He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 
“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”
He shushes you.
“What-”
“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.
“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.
“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 
It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 
“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 
Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 
The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you cough.
“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”
“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  
“Which was?” 
“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”
“Why would I ever want that?”
“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”
“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 
You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 
“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.
It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.
“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.
“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 
“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”
He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”
You nod, “I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 
“Sorry for putting you through all that.”
“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 
“I love you, Wriothesley.” 
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 
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*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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ellemj · 5 months
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What Am I To You?
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.
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         “Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.
You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.
“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.
“I thought we were just—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.
Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.
As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.
“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.
“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.
“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.
He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.
“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.
“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy.  He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.
“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.
“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.
“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.
“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.
“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.
“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.
“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.
“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.
“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.
Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.
“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.
“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?
“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.
“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.
“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.
“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.
“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”
“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.
“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.
“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”
His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.
“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.
“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”
“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.
“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.
“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”
“Everything.”
Finally, you gave him the right answer.
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harrysonlylover · 4 months
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Blazers & Cravings*
Summary:Some moments of spice and fluff during Y/n’s pregnancy featuring Harry’s infatuation.
Trope: CEO!H
Wc: 3.5k
Warnings: Cravings, smut, lactation kink, feral and primal harry, overstimulation, crying from pleasure, pregnancy talk.
A/n: I reckon she’s around 5 months pregnant here <3 also please don’t read if you dislike lactation kinks.
CEO H MASTERLIST
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Every single moment in Y/n’s pregnancy was valuable to Harry. He needed to be present during the highs and lows, it was his duty.
He would never refuse her a request—not only is she bearing his child, but she’s also his lover.
Creating a small version of themselves in her womb for 9 exhausting months isn’t as smooth—not one bit but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to make it easier for her.
Harry knew that he was lovestruck but he never imagined that it would keep on growing.
How can he be so in love? How can his heart expand this much?
He watches her brushing her hair, rubbing cream on her bump, laying on her side with a protective hand on her belly and he falls in love all over again.
He observes the antics that she developed after pregnancy—pouting her lips and rubbing her belly when she’s hungry, scrunching her nose when a smell doesn’t appeal to her, sniffling softly when she buys a new onesie. And of course, his heart explodes a million times.
He had seen how other men treat their partners and fought the urge to punch them. He didn’t understand how men could mistreat the woman they “love”. They weren’t men in his opinion.
Y/n was his everything.
His lover, the mother of his child, his partner, his savior, his guardian angel, his fiancée…
Their wedding had to be postponed since peanut was on the way, and Harry was completely okay with that. But when he remembered that he couldn’t call her his wife, his entire day would be ruined.
Eventually, he bought her a new Cartier ring and asked her to wear it on her left hand. An indication of being wed. She didn’t object at all since they were technically married.
Harry was itching to see a wedding ring on her finger, it was just a replacement so he could delight in knowing that everyone would see that she was taken.
But when the time comes, and the wedding happens—he’ll buy her another ring.
It was as if a weight was moved off his chest when she placed the ring on—but he didn’t expect that it would open Pandora’s box for him.
He loved that they were engaged, he really did. But once his eyes were set on the sight of her left hand resting on her bump, he was gone for.
Y/n was completely his.
The other sights that made him dizzy were during sex. They already fucked like rabbits but pregnant Y/n was on a whole other level.
He was about to fuck her a few nights ago when he noticed her ring that she didn’t take off once. Ideally, he didn’t miss the chance of making her finger herself as he stared at her arousal and wedding ring.
It took him a while to register that he can’t fuck her every time he spotted her ring, or that not all men get this urge.
She had been feeling grumpy lately, snapping at anything around her and giving Harry a hard time. He didn’t reply back or get angry, he believed that she had every right to act this way.
To deal with that, he had lots of solutions. But recently, he decided to book them a table at a new restaurant that opened downtown.
He disliked going to the company when he could just work from home. But some procedures require his presence, and he had to part from Y/n after muttering curses under his breath.
He drove home eagerly with a smile planted on his face as he set foot inside their house. Y/n was getting ready just when he arrived, but she was antsy again.
“Love, what happened?” He walked slowly, loosening his tie as he spoke.
She was seated on their bed, still in her robe with her arms crossed over her bump. He held himself back from laughing because she wasn’t even close to anger—not with how cute she looked.
“I don’t have anything to wear!” She huffed in annoyance.
Harry glanced behind him to the little corner leading to another room that held their shared closets filled with her designer clothes.
“I’m sure you don’t baby. What can I do?” He kneeled in front of her and grabbed her hand for a quick kiss on her knuckles.
“The clothes are tight on my bump. I want to be comfy.” She whispered with a pout on her face.
“What about the new dress I got you?”
“I don’t want to wear a dress.” She shrugged her shoulders while caressing her bump.
“Alright, come with me.” He helped her get off the bed and wrapped a protective arm around her body.
He stood in front of his closet and scanned it with his eyes, before grabbing a blazer and giving it to Y/n.
“Here, try this on.” The blazer was oversized on her body and wrapped around her bump perfectly.
Harry’s size was significantly different than Y/n’s so when she wore the blazer, it reached just above her knee. It was a black Gucci blazer and had her looking like a real trophy wife.
“Pleased now baby?” He led her to the mirror and kissed her temple.
There was something so attractive about wearing Harry’s clothes. Deep down, they both got turned on by that, but especially Harry.
He placed his hand on her bump that was covered with his blazer, as he admired her body through the mirror.
“Hmm, this can work.” She tipped her head backward to meet his face, catching his lips in a kiss.
His grumpy baby was happy again and that was all he wanted.
“Let me get you a mini shorts to wear under.” He quickly fetched it and went down on his knees to help her wear it so that she didn’t have to bend down.
“Heels?”
“I want to but what if it hurts my feet?”
“We won’t walk. And if it hurts then you’ll take them off and I’ll carry you.”
The heels weren’t extremely bad, she was able to walk in them properly. Harry carried her bridal style from the door to the car since he had a Range Rover that was hard to climb into.
He played songs from a playlist that she made, and held her left hand, leaving kisses on her knuckles and engagement ring.
The restaurant wasn’t that far, it was barely a ten minute drive filled with cheek kisses and rubbing Y/n’s hand.
The interior design of the restaurant was quite luxurious, just what he fancied. As a CEO, he received loads of invitations from restaurants with Michelin stars, just so that they could say that Harry Styles dined in.
Y/n went through the menu a billion times and still couldn’t pick something. Her cravings were merciless.
“Harry, my cravings are so bad.” She groaned and leaned her body against him. They never sat facing each other.
“What do you have in mind, honey? Italian? Chinese? Middle eastern? Seafood?” He browsed the menu with her.
“I can’t choose!” She set down the menu from frustration.
He rubbed her shoulders and signaled for the waiter before giving him the menus back and ordering.
“I want everything on the menu please.”
Harry did anything he could to please her.
When the food arrived, Y/n forgot that Harry existed and focused on taming her cravings. Old Wives’ tales say that if a woman craves sweets then she’s pregnant with a girl; if she craves salty foods then it’s a boy.
At this point—Y/n knew nothing. She ate every single thing from both categories. Chinese fried rice, Italian Pizza, Hamburger, San Sebastian cake, Tacos, Crêpes, French Beef.
Not only were her cravings intense but she also got more hungry than usual, no matter how much she ate. She also didn’t care about the looks she got at the restaurant. She was a pregnant woman and eating on behalf of two human beings or more.
Besides, as if Harry would allow anyone to stare in a wrong way.
“What do you want me to put on your plate baby?” He wiped her mouth with a napkin, paying more attention to her food intake than his.
“Maybe the dumplings?” She answered as she chewed on spicy pickles.
Harry hummed approvingly, pouring the food into her plate with his other hand rubbing back.
“Why aren’t you eating?” She looked at him with a full mouth, and sauce coating the corners of her mouth lips.
“Don’t worry about me, baby.” He chuckled, grabbing the napkin again and moving his hand to rest on her bump.
He would give her and their child the world. They only need to ask.
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Harry doesn’t usually leave his phone away from him.
But he did this time, and boy did he regret it. He had an important meeting with a business partner who arrived early at the company. They sat in Harry’s office,drank coffee, and moved to the meeting room once the other members arrived.
Due to the rush, Harry forgot all about his phone and didn’t realize it until he walked into his office again and saw 3 missed calls from Y/n.
He nearly fucking fainted on the spot.
She rarely called him, she preferred texting which meant that something was wrong with her. He muttered curses under his breath as his hands shakily dialled her number.
He grabbed his car keys and was running out of his office just as she picked up her phone.
“Hello.”
“Y/n?! Baby fuck wha—are you okay?” His blood pressure definitely wasn’t stable.
“I am. Why?” She answered calmly which relieved him but also confused him.
“What do you mean? You called me three times.” He let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.
“Well yeah, this is all because of you.” She sighed heavily.
“What are you talking about?”
“This! You stuck your cock inside, knocked me up and now I’m like a woman in heat 24/7.” She shouted as if she was genuinely annoyed.
“Yeah? And what do you want me to do?” He asked in a deep tone.
“I don’t care what you have. Come home and fuck your baby mama.” She threatened and ended the call.
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Harry stormed through the front door of his house, he threw his phone and keys somewhere on the sofa and headed toward the bedroom.
As expected, Y/n was lying on the bed with only his shirt covering her upper body.
“Took you long enough.” She rolled her eyes and spread her legs instantly. She had no panties on and her pussy was glistening with wetness.
Everything she did made him go nuts. The way she surrendered her body to him at any given time.
“Spreading your legs for your husband already?” That was the first time he referred to himself as her “husband”.
“This is your doing.” She brought her left hand to her pussy and rubbed her vulva with her fingers, making sure to show it off to him.
He walked slowly as his eyes watched her intensely and took his clothes off. Harry was rich enough to buy her a ring that was more shiny than her wet pussy.
“I work hard all day and you made me return home because you’re cock obsessed?” He climbed on their bed and towered over her. The moment these words left his lips—she knew that she’d be ruined when they were done.
“Fuck me, please.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes, as if it physically pained her to not have him inside her.
“Is that what you want? Hmm?” He unzipped his pants and took off his boxers. His cock was hard simply from knowing that his pregnant wife can’t stay without his cock for long. It stood against his stomach, with a swollen tip and veins that scratched the itch in her pussy.
She looked at his cock like it was her meal. He moved his body closer to her and placed his hands on her legs, spreading them even wider.
“Eyes up here cockslut.” He raised her chin with his finger before inserting it inside her mouth.
He had been sweet with her for a while but now? He brought “Daddy” out to play.
Every passing second without Harry’s cock inside her was miserable. The feeling of being empty had her core aching.
“I missed you.” She whispered softly.
“Didn’t I fuck you nice and sweet this morning? Hmm mama, tell me.” He pressed a soft peck to her lips.
“Yeah you did but—“
“So you know you’re greedy.” He tsked, moving away from her face and focusing on her shiny cunt.
“Let’s see if my load is still here, or if your pussy is greedy just like you and swallowed it up.” He plunged two fingers inside without a warning making her grip the sheets. His rings were still on and cold compared to her extremely warm walls.
“Hmm just as I expected. Completely snug inside. Can’t help taking my load.” His fingers were slowly massaging her walls as she squirmed beneath him.
She felt tears welling in her eyes at the feeling, her hormones weren’t helping and she just needed to be fucked.
“Not so surprised though. That’s exactly how I knocked you up.” He adored reminding her that he owned her—that she was bearing his child, that she was such a good wife and took his seed.
He didn’t even need to move his fingers inside her pussy. They slid in perfectly from her arousal and his cum. Her clenches pulled his fingers in a desperate manner.
“What a slutty cunt. Pulling anything that enters it inside.” He moved his pointer and middle finger inside her warm walls while his thumb teased her swollen clitoris. It had her arching her back and holding on to his biceps.
“Give me your cock—please.” Her begging was so erotic to him. His pupils dilated just from looking at her and seeing her so helpless, that only his cock can fix it.
“I already gave it to you this morning, how many times do you need it a day?” He teased as he continued pleasing her with his fingers. His eyes fell on her covered upper using his shirt and immediately reached out to raise it.
“M—many times.” She struggled to let out coherent words, overwhelmed by hormones.
Harry had to take a deep breath to balance himself, he did so many times because of her beauty but this time? His primal instincts couldn’t handle the sight of her—so raw and tender, just for him.
Messy hair strands spread across her flushed cheeks as she rested on her back, her legs open for him with a protruding bump. He could feel her wetness coating his fingers, dripping like a honey waterfall down to the sheets. The heat that radiated off her pussy was so lustful, warming up his entire body.
And of course, her breasts. Full and swollen with milk, bigger areoles begging him to take a taste. He had done so before when she whined and whined about how heavy and full it felt.
How could he deny her relief?
“Look at my baby, admitting that she’s a cockslut so proudly.” He tore his hand away from her pussy, causing wet squelching sounds to fill the room from how wet she was, followed by her whimpers.
He brought the same hand—filled with her wetness to her breast, holding it so tenderly in his hand and tainting it with the arousal.
Harry’s hand was big, perfect for holding both of her hands or using it as a necklace for her pretty neck—and still, it could barely cup one of her breasts.
Once he squeezed her hard nipple, tears began coating her cheeks. Her cunt was clenching around nothing—needing to be filled.
“Oh poor baby, need me to empty these breasts? Hmm?” He kissed her tears and moved the hair strands away from her face.
“Uh—yes.” She wrapped her legs around his hips, needing some sort of friction or warmth. Anything to soothe the ache in her core.
Harry closed his mouth around her sore nipple and suckled. It brought her a huge relief that he delighted in. Of course, she can use pumps to sort it out but not while he’s present.
“My perfect wife, gonna feed our children with these gorgeous breasts?” He hummed, clearly enjoyed her lactating tits. She didn’t know whether she was rolling her eyes at the sensation, or his usage of words. Children. The thought of him knocking her up over and over again has her grinding against him.
She laced her fingers in his hair, urging him to continue sucking. It didn’t take her long to begin dripping and he took every single drop inside his mouth.
“Perfect body… providing for our baby.” He never stops praising her, even during sex. His chin was covered in her milk as he aggressively suckled on both breasts.
He was a starved man—feral for the woman he knocked up.
Her entire body was on fire, his cock was poking her thigh and she couldn’t help but grind herself on him for friction. Her breaths were labored, and her mind hazy from the overstimulation to her breasts.
He was addicted to her taste, sometimes he spent his entire afternoon with his head under her shirt, suckling and relieving her from the heaviness.
“So full and heavy baby.” He moaned audibly when the milk flowed heavily down her chest. She withered beneath him, surrendering herself to his touch completely.
“Too m—much.” The overstimulation had her crying even more as she pulled his mouth away from her nipple.
His face was flushed with rosy lips from being overworked with suckling. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was open in awe as he breathed heavily.
He licked the remaining milk of his lips and kissed her deeply as their tongues clashed. His thumb wiped her tears away before he whispered in her ear.
“Does this cunt need its Baby Daddy’s cock? Hmm?” He brought his hand down to her pussy and slapped it lightly making her body jerk forward.
“Please. It hurts so bad.” She mumbled, roaming her hands all over his body.
He wasted no time in lining himself up with her entrance and thrusting inside. He didn’t even need to push—her cunt was so wet that it slid in perfectly like it was molded for his cock.
“Fucks sake.” He groaned, taking in the feeling of her velvety walls clenching heavily against his thick length.
The sight of relief washing over her face was like a movie scene in his mind. Let alone the milk slowly dripping down her chest.
“Like a proper cat in heat, eh?” He pulled away only to thrust in harder. Her mind was blank, nothing but the idea of Harry’s cock fucking her cunt and using it.
“Just needed me to stick my cock in. Legs open to show me your slutty pussy.” Her whines were music to his ears. They filled the room along with the wet squelching sounds from her wetness that already coated his pelvis.
He didn’t mind that her bump was in the way—he towered over her as much as he could while drilling into her hot pussy. The warmth of it was unbelievable—it made him flushed and sweaty. Her pussy was so fucking warm.
“C’mon sweetheart, cum for me.” She smiled at him feeling so lost in pleasure. He was hitting her spot as usual, the veins along his cock and its thickness had her rolling her eyes and mumbling “Daddy” now and then.
He wanted to correct her and say “Baby Daddy” but he doubted that her cock obsessed brain was focused.
“I—Cu—.” Her hormones weren’t gentle with her, she could do nothing but take his cock.
“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you. Cum for me.” He slowed down, giving her deep strokes as he kissed her temple.
Their bodies had a secret language formed by them. They came at the same time, making electric sparks go through their bodies. Sex was something sacred for them—the aftermath of cumming was always the best. Seeing her pink face sighing in ecstasy, knowing that he pleasured her.
His load leaked out and dripped down her thigh, despite him being inside her.
“Open your eyes for me, pretty girl.” She did as he asked, making him smile upon seeing her pretty irises.
“Did such a good job for me.” He kissed her cheeks, eyes, lips, nose, and temple. Her smiles were all that he needed.
“I love you.” She whispered.
“Me more my darling.” He whispered back.
He stayed inside of her for a while, allowing her to relish the feeling of being full with his cum. Eventually, he had to dismiss her whines and carry her to the bathtub that he filled with hot water and lavender-scented bath bombs.
She sat inside with her back to his chest as he rested his hand on her bump.
“Do you think I’m pregnant with a boy or a girl?” She turned her head to him.
“Do you want to find out?”
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Fic divider by @firefly-graphics
Taglist: @prettythingsworld-blog @slut4marvelmenn @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers
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jamespotterismydaddy · 2 months
Text
Drunken Promises
luke castellan x reader.
A/N: had a request for sub luke and mommy kink luke so i combined them hehe
WARNINGS: SMUT, mommy kink, subby luke, he whimpers y'all
WORD COUNT: 886 words
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Liquor never makes anyone feel better. There’s no drowning sorrows when they only drown you. Luke knows that but he drank anyway. It’s a fun night, a party for the older campers around the fire but when everyone’s left for bed, there’s no more comfort. He sobs. It’s too much for him. Everything is too much, the quests, the fighting, the intrinsic desire for glory. It doesn’t matter if he dies if he goes out in flames.
He hears your footsteps before he sees you as you wander back to the campfire. It gives him time to wipe his eyes, the redness could easily be from his intoxication.
“Forgot my jacket.” You murmur as you grab it. He thinks that you’ll likely leave right away but is irritated when you sit down and stare into the fire. No more private breakdown for him.
“Hmm.” He acknowledges your words before getting up but he stumbles, tripping over nothing and falling at your feet.
“Someone’s had too much to drink.” You tease.
“Shut up.” He grumbles and tries to get up again but you just pull him into the seat next to you.
“Maybe you need a minute before you try to walk again.”
He rolls his eyes and rubs the dirt from his face, wincing when his knuckles run over his scar. The fall perhaps made it tender and it’s still a… fresh mark.
“Are you okay?” The look in your eyes is so kind and almost maternal. It makes him blush.
“Yeah.” He lies.
“You went through a lot, Luke.”
“Everyone here goes through shit.” He brushes off your sentiment.
“Doesn’t make your shit less important.” Your words are still a bit slurred but it’s like you’ve sobered up just to comfort him and you hand him your bottle of water. You put in the effort to take care of him… and it really makes him want to kiss you. He can’t decide if that’s pathetic or not.
“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles out, knowing he would never be able to say it in any other situation.
“You’re so drunk.” You giggle a bit.
“I’m not.” He opens up the water bottle and downs half of it to try and prove himself. “At least not much drunker than you.”
“Bullshit. You’re about to fall off your seat again.” You roll your eyes and stand up, planning to drag him back to his cabin.
He grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap. “I’m not.” You can see it in his eyes. If being sober means he has a chance, then he’ll force the liquor out of his blood with a thought.
“You’re in a very vulnerable state right now, Luke.” You say with a sigh.
“Please.” He begs, putting on the puppy dog eyes. “I just need you.”
“Poor thing. You would need any girl that came across you like this.” You try to get up but he holds your hips.
“No, I just want you, I swear it. There’s no other girl like you.” His needy hands run along your waist, savouring the feel of your skin. He at least seems genuine.
“You want me to take care of you?” You murmur and his pupils blow out with lust.
“So… s’badly.” He leans in as you lean back to tease for a moment until you finally allow him to catch your lips. 
There’s so much passion in the kiss, and desire. You can feel every last ounce of appreciation and desperation in it. He knows he’s never needed anything so much like he needs your touch right now. You can feel it as he bucks his hips into yours. You lose your shorts as he unzips his and when you sink down on him, it feels like he’s found heaven between your thighs. 
You start to bounce slowly in his lap.
“Oh, fuck…” He groans as he holds you so close to him, bucking his hips up pathetically to meet your movements.
“You’re doing so good for me… so good.” You squeeze around him purposefully when he’s fully inside.
“Mmm… mommy.” He whines out and his eyes immediately widen when he realizes what he just said. “I didn’t-I mean-”
“It’s okay, baby. Let mommy take care of you.” You start kissing his neck as you grind against him and he lets out continuous whimpers.
This is one of the first times Luke has let go of control and nothing has ever felt so damn good. With all stress in his life, it’s freeing to be treated in such a way.
“I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum.”
“I think you can do better than that.” You tease.
“Please, please, please. I need to cum so badly. Please, mommy.” He’s desperate and so polite so you allow him.
“Go ahead, baby.”
You squeeze a little more to encourage him and he finishes right inside your pulsing core, letting out more whines that you muffle with your mouth.
“You did so good.” You praise, running your fingers through his curls. He wishes he could stay like this with you forever.
“I did?” His eyes light up, almost every demi-god is a sucker for being told they’re worth something.
“Couldn’t have been closer to perfect.”
And perfect is what he’ll be if it means he gets you.
tglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33
Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween  @10ava01
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kakujis · 4 months
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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.
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and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.
synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.
warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.
ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k
@enchantedforest-network
an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.
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gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 
but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 
he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 
imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 
“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 
he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 
the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 
you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  
“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 
but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 
you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 
for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 
“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”
ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 
you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 
he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 
he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 
gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 
when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.
hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 
maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 
there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.
okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 
”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 
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to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 
he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.
his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 
“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 
a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 
the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 
“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 
he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 
you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 
his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 
hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 
“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 
the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 
you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 
he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 
it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.
he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.
your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.
"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 
“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.
he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 
“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 
“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 
“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.
he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 
“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 
“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  
“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 
“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 
he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 
you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 
“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 
you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 
“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 
you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 
your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 
you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.
“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 
“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 
“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 
you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 
“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 
“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 
“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”
gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 
huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 
but that’s not- 
it is. check your phone. 
oh, i guess it… is? 
c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 
and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 
leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 
it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 
but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 
his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.
“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 
“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 
with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 
it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 
“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 
even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 
“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”
you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 
“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 
his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 
he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 
you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 
“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 
he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 
“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 
you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 
your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 
gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.
but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.
with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 
“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 
“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 
“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 
the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 
you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 
he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 
“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 
you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 
“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 
“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 
“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 
there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 
“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 
that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 
you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 
“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 
he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 
“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 
“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 
872 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 1 year
Note
Eddie x bookworm!Reader angst-to-fluff, where Eddie is always picking on Reader because he has a crush on her, but she thinks he’s just being mean. Like he’ll say “read anything good lately, bookworm?” because he genuinely wants to talk to her about what she’s reading, but she assumes he’s teasing her like everyone else. And then a fluffy ending where he actually has a real conversation and admits that he likes her? Love you, bb! @munson-blurbs 💚
Eddie would love bookish girls like us, Bug! We’d be his favorites and everyone else would be jealous hehehe. I loved this request and I hope you enjoy!
Words: 2k
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The library is supposed to be your sanctuary. It’s supposed to be where you can go and be with the books, spending time picking out the perfect one before settling down in a chair to see what new adventure awaits you within the pages. But he’s here again. The metal head who thinks it’s fun to pick on you. It’s no secret that people at school are constantly calling him a freak, so he obviously knows what it’s like to be teased and picked on. So why does he do it to you?
The paperback in your hands is pretty small, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to hide your face behind it, hoping Eddie doesn’t notice you. But you know it didn’t work when you hear the chair on the opposite side of the table from you being pulled back and someone drops down into it.
“Hey, bookworm.”
Taking a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath behind the cover of the book, you lower it and give Eddie the most unfriendly smile you can manage.
“Edward.”
“Don’t call me that,” he says, wrinkling up his nose.
“Don’t call me bookworm,” you retort.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Eddie says.
You ignore him and go back to reading. Well, pretending to read anyway, but really waiting for him to get up and leave.
“Whatcha reading?”
Slowly, you lower the book down enough where you can peer over the side of it where it clearly shows the title.
“Little Women,” you answer anyway.
“So, like, girls?”
“Sure.”
“What’s it about?”
“Eddie,” you say with a sigh. You lower the book down and slide your bookmark into the page you left off on. “What do you want?”
He leans back in his seat and frowns at you as he laces his fingers behind his head.
“To know what your book is about,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“No,” you say with a shake of your head. “What do you really want?”
The bell rings and you don’t give him time to answer your question before your things are back in your backpack and you’re out the door.
Luckily, you don’t see Eddie the rest of the day. The next day, you’re not as lucky. As you're getting the books you need out of your locker, you see Eddie coming down the hall out of the corner of your eye. Hurrying so he doesn’t have the chance to come and tease you, you swap out your things and clutch what you need to your chest. You hardly make sure your locker is properly closed before you’re turning away and walking quickly down the hallway, hoping he won’t spot you.
When you step into your French class, you finally release the breath you’ve been holding in your chest. Head down so no one else will notice you, you open your French notebook and turn it to a clean page for the start of class.
Someone drops down in the seat next to you, but you don’t look their way until you feel them leaning into your personal space. You’re shocked when Billy Hargrove is there, so close to you, an easy smile on his lips.
“Hey, smart girl.”
You’d bet good money he’s calling you that because he doesn’t know your real name.
“Um, hi,” you say. There’s a group of girls on the other side of the classroom who are whispering to each other as they watch the two of you.
Billy’s tongue pokes out against his top lip as he looks at you through his thick eyelashes. It’s a look you’ve seen him give dozens of girls around school. He wants something. And you know it’s not you, so that leaves only one other option.
“You’re really good at this French stuff, yeah? Well, to tell you the truth, I’m struggling a little bit. Do you think there’s any way you could help me out with that? I’d really appreciate it.” It’s a good thing you’re sitting because his smile is enough to make your knees give out.
“I’m not really a tutor,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. It’s the truth, but you’re also pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to understand your French because he’d make you a stuttering mess just by looking at you.
“Anything I can do to change your mind?” Billy asks, tilting his head. His voice is so sultry it should be illegal.
“I-I don’t think so.”
Billy tsks and shakes his head.
“Well, damn. Let me know if you change your mind, sweetheart.” He knocks his fist against your desk before going back to his own seat.
The teacher walks in and everyone takes their seats, one of the girls who was whispering about you taking her seat right behind you.
“You’re not as smart as everyone says you are,” she leans forward to whisper in your ear.
Mrs. Shay has her back to the class so you take the opportunity to turn around to face the girl.
“What?”
“For a nerd, you’re pretty dumb. Billy Hargrove was willing to spend time with you and you said no. Tell me, how many guys actually want to be around you? Let alone ones that look like Billy.”
You quickly spin back around so she can’t see the tears forming in your eyes. She’ll only be meaner if she sees she gets a reaction out of you. It’s hard to concentrate for the rest of the class, both interactions replaying in your head the whole period.
Lunch is next and you can’t bring yourself to go into the cafeteria full of students. It’s a nice day out so you decide to go sit outside and eat your sandwich in peace. You’re looking forward to picking up your spot in Little Women as you settle on the grass, back resting against the brick building, but come up empty after looking in your bag.
“No,” you whine to yourself as you double check for the book. Still not there. You must’ve left it in your locker. Alone with just your thoughts and your sandwich, the lunch period seems to go on forever. You get up a few moments before it’s over and go to your locker to grab your novel in case you get a chance to read it in any of your afternoon classes. But it’s not there either. You slam your locker door closed and knock your forehead against it. Where the hell did your book go?
“Hey! Bookworm!”
You don’t need to look up to know who’s calling for you. There have been many times in the past you’ve been grateful your locker is right next to the girl’s room, and this is another one, as you slip in, acting like you didn’t hear Eddie.
Once the bell rings, you wait a minute for the halls to fill with students before joining the sea of teenagers. A quick glance around and there’s no sign of Eddie. You don’t press your luck though and make a beeline straight for your biology class.
The end of the school day can’t come fast enough. Heading to the library after the final bell is like being a salmon swimming upstream as everyone makes for the exits. A sigh leaves your lips once you’re safely inside and find a table in the corner to hide yourself at. Unfortunately, you’re only allowed a few peaceful moments.
“There you are, bookworm.”
It feels like the last straw. You groan and drop your head down to the table, but Eddie still pulls out the seat across from you and plops down in it.
“I’ve been trying to give this back you.” There’s a slide across the table and you pick your head up to see your tattered paperback of Little Women. “You dropped it in the hallway this morning. I tried calling for you but I guess you didn’t hear me.”
“Oh,” you say, stomach sinking with guilt. “Thank you.” You’d just come to expect the worst from people, so Eddie’s act of kindness comes as a surprise.
“No problem,” Eddie says. He leans forward on his forearms and smiles at you. It’s such an open and kind smile that it makes your head feel a little fuzzy. You’d never noticed how pretty Eddie is before. His dark eyes watch you and your cheeks heat up under his gaze.
“You know,” Eddie says. “I don’t think I could’ve forgiven Amy.”
“What?” you ask, face scrunching in confusion.
Eddie nods his head towards the book on the table between the two of you.
“Amy. She burnt Jo’s manuscript. That’s pretty shitty. And I’m pretty sure Laurie is in love with Jo.”
“Oh.” You look down at the cover of Little Women, your fingers coming up to ghost over the edges. “You’ve read it?”
“I started to,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Just don’t tell O’Donnell I was reading that in class today instead of listening to her drone on and on.”
“You were reading it today?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He looks down at the table in front of him and knocks his shiny silver rings a few times on the wood. “You didn’t tell me what it was about yesterday, so I decided to find out.”
Thinking back to Eddie finding you in the library yesterday, you remember him asking about what you were reading. You’d assumed it was some ploy to make fun of you, but it seems he was genuinely curious. The guilt tightens your stomach even further. You’re not sure how to apologize without admitting to him you’d assumed he was being an asshole.
“Um, do you want to finish the book? See how it ends?” You extend it to him and Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you.
“Really?” he asks, sounding more excited than you’d expect.
“Sure,” you say. “I’ve read it three times already so I’m in no hurry to finish it. Go ahead.”
Eddie’s face lights up in a grin and you mentally shake yourself for never noticing how absolutely adorable he is before.
“Thanks,” he says. He takes it from you and holds it in his hands like it’s precious and made of glass, not a book that looks like it’s weathered many storms. “Maybe when I’m done we could talk about it?”
Now it’s your turn to be surprised.
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” he says, avoiding your eyes. “Maybe we could get coffee or something? Or, pizza if you don’t like coffee.”
You stare at him for a moment before responding.
“You want to hang out with me? Voluntarily?”
His face pinches into a frown as he meets your eyes again.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asks.
“I just…” You sigh. “You’re always calling me a bookworm. I figured you were picking on me like everyone else does.”
“Oh.” His face falls and he quickly shakes his head. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that bothered you so much.” He sets the book down and rubs his hands over his face. “I guess I was just teasing. I’m not good with emotions and feelings.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“Ugh,” he groans, but there’s a shy smile on his face. “You know how in, like, third grade, how boys will sometimes pick on girls they like?”
“Yeah,” you say with a nod, clearly missing the hidden message in the question.
He huffs a laugh and gestures to himself.
“Guess I’m about as mature as a third grader.”
Your eyes widen and Eddie can’t help but chuckle in amusement at the look.
“You’re saying you like me? Is…is that what you’re saying?”
“You’re supposed to be the clever one here,” Eddie says with a smirk.
“And you’re…you’re serious?”
He frowns at this and leans in closer towards you.
“I would never joke like that. I know what it’s like to be picked on. It fucking sucks. I’m not about to inflict that on someone else. Especially someone as cute as you.”
Heat blooms on your face, so warm you’re sure you must look like a tomato. Eddie sits up, straightening in pride that he had that effect on you.
“Um, okay,” you say quietly. “Well, finish that book and we’ll go talk about it over pizza.”
“Like…a date?” Eddie asks in a hopeful voice.
“Yeah, a date.” You can’t help the giddy smile that comes to your face.
“Shit, I better get started then.” Eddie opens the book and leans back in his seat. You giggle, thinking he’s joking, but you see his eyes start to actually scan the pages as he reads. Taking advantage of his distraction, you let yourself look over him. His frizzy hair hangs at his shoulders, bangs pushed to the left side of his forehead. His long body reclines in the chair as he reads, his tongue poking out of his pretty lips. He’s beautiful.
You can’t wait until he’s finished with the book. Then he’ll understand what you mean when you say you’d love to be the Jo March to his Friedrich Bhaer.
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ode2rin · 9 months
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US, AGAIN .ೃ
pairing. itoshi sae x gn!reader
genre. second chance (exes back to lovers!) | a bit of small town romance | a sprinkle of childhood friends to lovers (past) | angst with a happy ending 
content/warnings. 5.2k+ wc | characters are aged 25 in the present | pro-athlete!sae x coffee shop owner!reader | sae left for spain at 19 in here | mentions of sae’s vague past (especially the striker dream) | itoshi bros conflict never happened here let me be delusional | heavy in narration | minimal proofread
in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again.
💭 flashbacks are italicized and indented :>
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Six years.
In those six long years of his absence, you couldn't deny that you rehearsed countless scenarios of encountering him upon his return. 
If by chance he still wanted to see you, or even look at you, you imagined giving him a small smile, a carefully crafted facade of composure, before gracefully walking away, as if life had moved on effortlessly for both of you.
That’s what you imagined. Just walk away, like how life went on for the both of you. 
But reality never seemed to align with your reveries. The sight of him wasn't remotely serene enough to prompt a composed exit. Seeing him made your throat tighten, and your heart danced in a rhythm only he could create.
Six damn years had passed since you last saw him on that balcony, and now, with him back in town, avoiding him seemed like the only right thing to do.
You don’t know how long he’ll be here, but it is now your life mission to avoid him at all cost. Today's encounter was just an unfortunate event—an inevitable twist of fate. Their house was literally right in front of your family's, making it hard to escape the nearness of the past.
“So, he’s back in town?” 
Hari's voice, your co-worker and now a dear friend, snapped you back from the reverie of yesterday's memories. The sound of her voice broke through the nostalgic haze, pulling you back to the present.
“What?”
“I asked if your childhood friend who is also a superstar slash professional athlete slash your only ex is back,” she mischievously asked, even miming quotation marks to emphasize each title she created.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head at her antics. Your gaze drifted to the freshly baked pastries, their delightful aroma greeting your senses like a warm embrace as you artfully displayed them on the shelves. The familiar scent of coffee and delightful confections used to calm you, but now it mingled with the storm of emotions inside.
“Yeah, it's basically the talk of the town. He's famous after all,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant and still focused on your work, using it as a shield to hide your vulnerability.
But in reality, the sight of him earlier had caught you off guard, and you had turned the other way to avoid him. Your heart was still racing from the almost encounter, and the comforting ambiance of your coffee shop provided little solace.
“Did he see you?”
“I pray to all saints that he didn’t,” you deadpanned, your facade of composure beginning to falter.
“What did he look like now?”
You hesitated, your mind flashing back to that fleeting glimpse of him earlier.
Far from what was once mine. “Good.”
“That’s it? Good?”
No. He looked gorgeous. He looked painfully gorgeous.
“What do you want me to say?” you countered, throwing a side glance to her persistence.
In that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of how much he had changed. He looked undeniably handsome, lean, and with a certain maturity that hadn't been there before.
He… looked different.
And that's good—for you and for him. It meant that life there treated him well, and it eased some of the lingering guilt you carried.
You and Hari fell into a consuming silence, your backs turned away from each other. Even with closed eyes, you sensed that she wanted to ask something. You didn't want to initiate the conversation, but this suffocating silence had to go.
As you stepped behind the counter, you were met with Hari's concerned eyes and a voice laden with hesitation. “What are you going to do then?” she carefully asked.
You pressed your lips together, momentarily at a loss for words.
So you did what you do best: mask hurting with laughter.
“Is there anything I should do?” you paused, the sound of your fake laughter ringing in your ears. “It's been years. We made a choice.”
But Hari wasn't ready to let the matter rest, and you don’t know how to tell her you’re close to calling it a day. “You made a choice for him,” she countered gently, her tone filled with empathy.
Stunned was an understatement. Caught off guard would be an apt description. But speechless was exactly how you felt.
That, you couldn't mask with anything.
So you did what you weren’t best at: admitting the truth.
“And I’ll do it again,” you whispered in return. It was faint, because it was more for you than more of a reply to her. 
You were both young, and half oblivious to what it would be like outside, where the world wasn’t painted in golden hues and the gentle waves were replaced by blaring cars.
You were both seventeen, young and living for the hope of it all.
But you lived for days like those – days where both of you just had to be kids still. No worries, no voices of what might come.
“Tell me about your dreams, Sae.” “Tch. You already know about it.”
You did. All of it, you knew. Since you were kids, no one knew him like you did. You were his lover and confidant. You knew about it, all too well and all too much.
“Come on!” you persisted, giving him an enthusiastic look. “The sky looks so pretty in this sunset, I want it to know about us.” The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Sae sat side by side in the sand. The sound of gentle waves caressed your ears, creating a serene backdrop for your beach date. He hesitated for a moment, looking out at the horizon. Then there it was, a glint of determination flashed in his usually reserved eyes. “To be the best striker in the world.” You couldn't help but be captivated by the sight. It was the first time you had seen such an unusual spark in his eyes. Sae's gaze was often cold and impersonal, but now it was as if stars were hanging in his eyes, reflecting the infinite possibilities of his dreams. Sae is handsome, mysteriously beautiful even. But this, nothing will beat how dreamy he looks when he speaks of his craft. You liked this look on him - so ambitious, so driven. It made your heart flutter with admiration. Seeing this glint in his eyes right now, you knew you wanted to do anything in your power to let it stay there.
And you did, you held on and held out. Until you turned nineteen, when you had let him go to the big cities where he rightfully belonged. 
You smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile, and leaned in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you will be the best.”
Maybe you bit off more than what you could chew, but in the end, you’d do it all over again. Because what you did, the choice you made – it was for the best.
You were both nineteen, young and eager to grasp the world's offerings with hopeful hands. 
But despite the certainty you tried to hold onto, there were nights when the memories tugged at your heartstrings like it did now. You knew it was the right choice, that you both needed to chase your dreams separately — especially his dreams. But it didn't erase the whispers of what-ifs that occasionally crept into your mind.
But life — life went on. Life never waits for anyone, anyway. And so, you worked diligently to craft a future that no longer had room for regrets.
But love leaves echoes, and his presence back in town stirred those dormant feelings. With him being in the same place, you felt like a stranger in your own town.
It was easier when he was thousands of miles away, an untouchable star on a different horizon. But now, with the universe conspiring to bring you close again, you couldn't help but feel like a wanderer in the galaxy of memories you built together.
After all, everything here in this town is about you and him. 
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Six years.
Was it that long? He couldn’t really tell. Maybe time really does pass fast when your life is falling apart.
It has been six years since Sae has sat on the balcony of his childhood home. And like the sick bastard fate was, he’s welcomed by the sight of your horrified yet still so damn fucking beautiful face.
Perhaps the saints you prayed to didn’t hear any of your pleas, because despite calling out to each one, Sae saw you.
There you were, a flicker in the periphery of his vision, desperately trying to avoid him. He was trained to be very aware of his field of vision, so there was no way he wasn’t able to notice your frantic leaving and the hurried closing of your house’s door as you noticed him. 
He let you be, holding back the overwhelming desire to call out your name like he used to when both of you were running late to class. He let you be, because if you were to ask him, he wouldn’t know how to look you in the eye without a thousand words reflecting on his own. 
[Attention, everyone. This is the final boarding call for passengers of flight 924 to Madrid, Spain. Again, this is the final –] “Sae, you’re going to miss your flight. They’re not coming.” No. “They’re not coming, Sae. You have to get on the plane.” No. No. Shut up.
He needed you there, more than anyone. A thousand people could cheer and show up for Itoshi Sae, but his eyes will always search the crowd for just one — just yours.
Yet, alas, you were nowhere to be found. And so, that very same day, Sae vowed to never come back to this place.
He hated this town and you, he’s convinced.
Sae had always been indifferent to a lot of people, everyone knew that. But never in a hundred years would anyone who knew you both think you’d be on that list. And deep down, he didn’t want to believe it either – until that day you decided not to show up when you promised you would.
He wasn't stupid. He had an inkling of why you did what you did. Yet, irrationality overpowered reason, and all he wanted that day was to run the distance between the airport and your house – to see your face, to remind you that he had plans, plans for both of you.
When Sae’s manager informed him that he needed to come home for a while to renew his passport, it was as if all of his suppressed recollections of this place – of you, came pouring out to his soul all at once.
Every street, every corner, every memory — they all threatened to consume him. His family, Rin, this town, and you – you were all the things he left behind for the dream.
Dream. Best Striker in the world. What did it even mean? Long ago, he thought he knew.
But it had to work. Everything had to work. He lost you for this dream. And if he loses it too, then what does that make him? A sore failure. And Sae was never known to be admissible to failing.
Whatever hell he encountered on the other side of the world, he swore he would never return home. Even when he was traversing across a path to ruin of being the person he thought he would be, he would never ever choose to come home.
Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, but home.
So there he was, the renowned glorious prodigy of japan. He was close to everything after countless mishaps. 
He’s getting closer and closer to the new dream yet getting farther and farther away from home.
Home. What does it even mean? Lately, he doesn’t even know. 
And after that day, no one ever mentioned your name to him. No one in his new world knew about you. No one knew how Itoshi Sae's world used to revolve around someone's soft smiles and easy eyes. 
He never asked anyone not to mention you; he wasn't one to ask, after all. But for some reason, no one dared to. Not even Rin. It was as if one mention of you in his presence was a carefully crafted brick used to make his castles crumble to the ground.
He hated that, but maybe they were right. Because with just a second's worth of a glimpse of you from earlier, Sae indeed felt his castles crumbling, piece by piece.
He hates you, for making his resolve crumble. For being the one person who can make his vow to never look back fall apart.
He hates you, because everything in this forsaken place is about you and him. Memories of your shared youth are etched into the very walls and streets, haunting him like ghosts of a past he can't escape.
He hates you, for not trusting you two would work it out somehow, and for giving up before the game even began.
He hates you, because it was easier that way. Easier to pretend he didn't care, that you didn't matter, and that you were just another soul he knows a little too much of.
Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more, and yet he knows, only one of it was true – and that he hates you for making him convince himself that he does, just to cope with leaving half of his heart to the only place he vowed never to come back to.
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It was a jinx to say that yesterday’s encounter was already an unfortunate event, because today, you literally learned a whole new degree of unfortunate and unlucky – by having Itoshi Sae as your first customer of the day. 
“Welcome! How may I help you toda— S-Sae.”
And to even top it off, today was Hari’s day off. It meant that you’re currently alone in the same confined four-cornered room with the person you swore you would avoid like it’s your life mission.
Damn it, Hari. Of all days. Her day off really had to be today.
Itoshi Sae, in the goddamn flesh, is standing in your place two meters away from you, yet you’re having a hard time feeling your feet on the ground and your heart beating so damn loud. 
He wasn’t looking at you (thank god), and had his eyes exploring the place with a neutral expression playing on his face. Suddenly, you feel like sixteen again back when he was looking at the first set of cookies you’ve ever baked and you were dying to hear what he thinks of your craft.
“It’s yours?”
You gulp. 
You gulped down the urge to tear up with how much his voice changed. You gulped down the urge to cry because he assumed you had your dream turn into reality too.
“Yeah,” you replied in whisper, your eyes following where he was looking, trying to avoid any chance it will meet his, “it’s not much but —”
“It’s beautiful.” Even before Sae could hear your meek comment of yourself, he cut you off.
You were always like that —downplaying your hard work, belittling yourself even before someone does. He hated that about you. 
He used to get mad at you for it, especially when someone made fun of you at school and you didn’t defend yourself. He always makes you cry whenever he points it out, so he stopped. Instead, he made it his role to rebuild your confidence. Sae wasn't known for being generous in compliments. It would probably take one hand to count all the instances that he genuinely called someone along the lines of not dumb, stupid, lukewarm. 
But it was never the case with you. With you, to say beautiful was always a second nature to Sae's tongue.
And he wasn’t lying though. Your coffee shop was really charmingly cozy, and so like you. It’s so much alike to what you used to tell him how you envisioned it would be. 
The coffee shop was a quaint haven nestled right at the edge of the sandy shore. Its exterior, adorned with weathered wooden panels and soft, warm hues, exuded a rustic charm that welcomed passersby with open arms. Sunlight spilled through large windows, casting gentle rays that danced upon the vintage, mosaic-tiled floor.
It’s beautiful, and it’s in front of our place. He wanted to say to you, but he stopped at beautiful not wanting to make things more awkward than it should.
The coffee shop, it’s right in front of the beach. It’s in front of that one spot you and him used to call ours. 
It’s the first thing he noticed before coming inside, and it made him wonder whether you knew or he’s the only one who remembers it even now.
Bashful, you uttered a silent thank you to his remark, “What would you like to order?” you followed up, trying to maintain composure despite your heart racing in your chest.
Noticing that he’s been too silent for someone who’s about to order something, you looked up to your menu, and immediately, you understood his silence. If one were to point out, it is too immediate for someone who’s almost strangers to each other.
“We have non-caffeinated drinks too,” you hurriedly said to him, your voice quivering slightly as you tried to break the spell of awkward silence.
He gulps, his eyes locked with yours in a moment that felt like eternity.
He can’t drink coffee, it ruins his body clock, and you knew that. You still know that.
It appears that he's not the only one who remembers, after all.
A thousand emotions danced in his eyes, each one a testament to the love that once blossomed between you. The coffee shop, once a quaint haven, now felt like a crucible of emotions, and the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of what could have been.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn't look away, despite the rush of memories and unspoken words flooding your mind. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and you were once again those young souls who found solace in each other's presence.
But this was different, much more complicated. The past was a turbulent sea, and even though you had both moved on with your lives, there was still a deep, lingering connection that couldn't be severed.
Yet, you knew better than to let those emotions take control. You made a choice, you have to stand by it.
You were no longer the naive teenagers who believed love could conquer all. Reality had taught you both harsh lessons, and the wounds of the past still lingered, threatening to reopen with each stolen glance.
“I’ll have your best seller of it then,” he finally broke the silence, his voice steady despite the tempest inside.
With a nod, you turned to prepare his order, your hands trying to steady themselves. You couldn't help but wonder if he noticed the tremor in your fingers or the way your heart seemed to echo in every beat.
As you handed him his drink, your fingertips brushed lightly against his hand, and for a brief moment, the world stood still.
He took the cup from you, and for a fleeting moment, you both lingered, almost as if neither of you wanted to let go. He could stay in this, playing pretend. Pretend none of it happened, pretend he never left, pretend it worked out in the end.
But he can’t, not when you stepped back first, breaking the contact between you and reminding him of the choice you made.
“Thank you,” he managed to say, his voice softer now, filled with a hint of something even he couldn't quite decipher.
“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
And just like that, the moment passed, slipping through your fingers like sand. He turned to leave, and you watched him walk away, every step taking him farther from the life you once shared.
Perhaps, in some parallel universe, there existed a version of you who chose differently, who stayed intertwined with him in a tale of love that defied all odds. But here, in this reality, both of you were no longer who you used to be.
In this universe, you're just some two ghosts standing in the place of you and him, haunted by the memories of what once was while trying to remember what it feels to have a heartbeat.
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After Sae’s visit yesterday, saying that you weren’t doing fine would be a gross understatement. 
Your emotions were all over the place, and you couldn't seem to find a stable ground for your thoughts. It didn't help when your parents casually mentioned that he was leaving town later today. Apparently, Mrs. Itoshi had a little gossip session with the neighbors, unknowingly revealing a piece of her oldest son's business.
He’s leaving, and that's good—for you and for him.
As you stood behind the counter of the coffee shop, you absentmindedly glanced out the window, your eyes drawn to the beach. The sight of the shore brought back a flood of memories.
Maybe in another life, the two of you could still dance along the sandy shore, playfully splashing water at each other. He would chase after you, catching hold of your waist as he sweeps you off your feet. And perhaps, just perhaps, you would have the chance to embrace him tightly once again, with your arms wrapped around his neck while you share a kiss as greedy and fiery as the sea’s yearning for the moon.
And maybe, in another life, your story wouldn’t end with both of you being strangers who know a little too much about each other.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks until Hari whispered, “Y/N... you're crying.”
“Oh, I am,” you admitted, trying to regain your composure.
Your heart lurched as you tried to suppress the tears, but they kept flowing relentlessly. “Hari…” you whispered, shocked by your own emotional outpouring.
Hari's eyes reflected pity as she watched you, her voice soft and understanding. “Go,” she encouraged, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Get your man. I'll take care of everything here.”
The words hit you like a lifeline, a spark of hope igniting within you. You quickly removed your apron and grabbed your keys, determined to catch him before it was too late. 
But before you could dash out, Hari's voice echoed through the shop, loud and clear, “Go! Be happy! And for the love of god, no more sacrifices as a love language!”
With one last glance at her and your coffee shop, you rushed out the door.
The airport seemed like a maze of bustling strangers as you frantically searched for the departure gates. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the fear of missing him consuming you.
Desperation and determination fueled your steps as you approached the flight attendant, your voice trembling, “Flight to Spain — I need to know about the flight to Spain for today.”
The attendant looked at you with sympathy, “I'm sorry, but all flights to Spain have already left. The last one left twenty minutes ago.”
Your heart sank, but you couldn't give up that easily. “Can you check again? Please. I-I need to see him. Please.”
The attendant double-checked, but the outcome remained unchanged. 
Twenty damn minutes. You lost him in just that short amount of time.
Your heart shattered as you realized you had missed your chance. The desperation in your eyes was evident as you felt your world crumbling around you.
In the midst of the bustling airport, you allowed yourself to grieve for what could have been and for the chances you never took.
Six years ago, you were supposed to be here. And maybe if you did, you wouldn't find yourself six years after, wishing you did things differently.
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The drive back felt like the longest journey of your life. 
The sinking sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as you approached the familiar place. As you got closer, you noticed that the shop was already closed, and you assumed Hari had taken care of everything. 
But what caught you off guard was the sight of Sae standing there, in front of your place, with a suitcase by his side, as if he were meant to be on a flight rather than standing there.
“You're here,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you got closer.
“I’m here.”
“Why didn't you leave?” you asked.
Because I’m done convincing myself that I hate you, Sae hesitated to say.  “Why did you go to the airport?” he countered instead, avoiding your question.
Because I’m done telling myself that I did the right thing. 
There were so many things you wanted to say, but the words were caught in your throat. You bit your lip, not ready to answer his question just yet.
Impatient and desperate, Sae took his chances to ask you the only question that mattered to him at this point, “Tell me you don't love me anymore. I will go. I will do as you please. I just need to hear it from you.”
Your eyes widened at his sudden question, but Sae wasn’t done yet. “Answer me. It’s a yes or no question.”
Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't hold back the torrent of words that poured from your heart.
“A yes or no question, you say? Every night, I think of you.”
With each word, your voice wavered, and you couldn't help but express the worries that had plagued you during his absence.
“Were you eating properly? Does the food there suit your liking? You’re a bit picky. Is it too hot there? Were you taking your supplements? Were you being hard on yourself again? Is... is there someone new? There must be, right?”
As the words left your lips, you realized just how much you had been consumed by thoughts of him, wondering about every aspect of his life, even when he was miles away from you.
His reaction to you holding forth seemed to intensify at your last question, but right now, you weren’t ready to listen to him. He needs to listen to you.
“Every single night of the past six years, I yearned for you. I yearned to have you close. I yearned to hold your face just once more. And fuck, I would’ve traded all my tomorrows for just one yesterday with you.”
With those words, the floodgates of emotion burst open, and tears streamed down your cheeks. 
Fuck, six years. For six years, you held on and held out. Would it have been easier if both of you had tried, and along the way, lost? Would it have alleviated the pain of what-ifs and what could have been's if you had bargained, if you had gambled? Or would it all have led you right back to this moment, grappling with the same heartache and uncertainty?
Finally, meeting his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions in his. But you weren’t done yet.
“And you dare ask me if I love you. Well, does that answer your fucking question, Itoshi?”
“Then, don’t cross it out. Don’t ever cross it out again.”
Cross what…out?
“I saw your letter,” Sae admitted, causing a momentary confusion to wash over you. 
My letter… Bewildered, you couldn't form the right words, and he took it as a sign to continue, and to close the distance between you to hold your hands.
“Tell me, how could I leave after reading that, knowing the only soul who truly knew me was here? You own me, Y/N.”
“I told you countless times before, you own me,” Sae reaffirmed, his grip on your hand tightening as he drew it closer to his lips, planting tender kisses upon your skin. 
“There was no one,” he continued, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. “And there's no other warmth comparable to yours that I'd ever let myself bask in. And if there's any, I'd be only fooling myself, pretending it was you instead.”
Sae's voice grew softer, yet resolute. “You own me, even when I'm on the other side of the world. You own me, Y/N. Even in the distance that separated us, even in the years that you claim I'm not."
He stepped closer, his eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “No place can ever own me as much as you do. So, don't ever cross your I love you's to me. I want them – all. I don't want your sorry's.”
“But I’m sorry,” you whispered, for the last time. But Sae gently wiped away your tears.
“It's ‘I love you’ from now on.”
For a moment, you both stayed like that, trying to make up for the lost time. Sae, much like you, dreamed of the day he gets to hold you close once again. He dreamed of a day he gets to watch the sunset from the reflection of your eyes again.
Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more reasons why he shouldn't be standing here, and yet he knew, only one of it was true – and that he hated himself for convincing himself that he shouldn't be here – to you, in his hometown.
Sae may have vowed to never come back to this place, but it was always a lie, because for all he knew, it's the only place he truly belonged. Half of his heart was left here, with you.
“Come on,” Sae said, and you followed him, curiosity in your eyes.
“Where are we going?”
“There,” Sae pointed to the beach, your spot, specifically. “To our place. The sky looks pretty, and I want it to know about us, again.”
“Us... again?” you asked hesitantly.
“If you would take me back.” Sae answered, a hint of fear in his eyes, afraid that he might be assuming this second chance for the two of you.
You took his hand in response, and squeezed it three times. “I want nothing more than to be with you, again.”
Without any more words, Sae gently cupped your cheeks, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The touch of his fingers was both familiar and new.
In the fading light of the day, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you leaned closer to each other, your breath hitched as his warm breath mingled with yours.
His lips were soft against yours, and as they moved with a tenderness that mirrored the way he held you, it was as if he was trying to convey everything he had ever wanted to say to you in that one, passionate moment.
The kiss deepened, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions pouring into it. It was a kiss that spoke of all the words left unsaid, of all the nights spent missing each other, and of all the dreams of a future together.
Feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks, Sae pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. And in that moment, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be – here.
To you, in his hometown. 
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💭 thank you for the request saetorinrin! (i owe you a lot for your patience i guess..)
note. hi. if you’ve been here before, you might know that i hate this trope with a burning passion, i just can’t write it for the life of me. i started this in may (and only had the guts to finish it this month lmao), i was so tempted to delete everything and start from scratch (for the nth time) but i think i owe it to myself to retain most of what i wrote when i was stranded on an island xd this isn’t my best, that, i know for sure. but i hope you’ll still like it ! 
💌 if you reached this part, and you want to know about reader’s letter that sae’s was referencing, here it is. you may or may not read this, it won’t really matter. but if you want to, click until the end :>
💭 back to: milestone event
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amsznn · 2 months
Text
CHRIS STURNIOLO BF HEADCANONS ⋆˙⟡♡
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warnings: none, just fluff!
-
⭑ you better have tylenol, and a whole bunch of patience if you’re with this boy.
⭑ so much energy and expects you to be on the same level as him.
⭑ sometimes he’ll tone it down if you’re having a bad day or if you just need some quiet time.
⭑ at the end of the day, he’s so exhausted that he doesn’t even say goodnight, just knocks out.
⭑ you and chris are cuddled up on his bed, enjoying each other’s presence when you decide to ask his opinion on something.
“chris what do you think about this hoodie?”
chris: 💀😴
you: 😐
⭑ BLANKET HOGGER. doesn’t matter how big or how small the blanket is, you’ll be left shivering while chris is bundled up with 50% of the sheets dragging on the floor.
⭑ on nights where he doesn’t immediately tap out, he’s resting his chin on your head while one hand is playing with your hair and the other caressing your arm while yapping your ear off.
“if you were a chicken, what kinda chicken would you be?”
“chris i swear to god.”
⭑ needs to be touching you in some way. And it’s not always sexually. small touches like, playing with your ears, hand on your thigh, or just playing footsies under the table, contact is his fav.
⭑ whenever he’s in disagreement with his brothers about something he makes sure to throw you into the mix and ask your opinion cus lets be real, you almost always agree with him.
⭑ randomly jabs your side to tickle you whenever there’s a moment of silence between you two.
⭑ asks your opinion on designs for his brand before launching anything. also makes sure you get at least one of every item he’s designed.
⭑ don’t think he’s the jealous or protective type. but if someone is making you uncomfortable he’ll definitely tell them to back off.
⭑ the media found out about you two on accident 💀.
⭑ chris was streaming one day and forgot to tell you but it was too late when you walked into his room unannounced in your grammy pj’s ready to knock tf out when chris let out a loud “ohhhhh shitttt..” when you realized that you were fucked.
⭑ you looked at chris and chris looked at you before you both shrugged your shoulders and went on with what you were doing, honestly not giving af atp.
⭑ comments flooding about who you were, tiktoks posted about you two with dating rumors, had to wait until the next day when chris posted on his story the both of you in skin care hello kitty masks facing the mirror with his arm around your shoulder and you leaning up to give him a peck on the face.
⭑ yeah, yall broke the internet.
⭑ you were featured in the next podcast with you and chris properly talking about your relationship.
⭑ after that chris would post you any chance he got. from cute insta stories, to goofy tiktok trends, he just wanted the world to know about his amazing gf.
⭑ PDA PDA PDA PDA. in the back of the triplets vlogs that you sometimes feature in, fans can spot you and chris in the background hugging with chris sometimes attacking you with kisses.
⭑ just a clingy guy tbh.
⭑ whenever you wake up from one you and chris’ shared afternoon naps to go find something to eat in the kitchen, chris makes his way to you like 2 minutes later and wraps his arms around your waste peeking over your shoulder so he can also have some of what you’re making.
⭑ loves going out and seeing things that remind him of you, but when he’s about to buy it and the store says “we don’t take apple pay” he’s upset for the rest of the day talking about “what fucking store doesn’t take apple pay”
“what kinda guy forgets his wallet…”
⭑ he ends up ordering it for you online 💀
⭑ overall a cute silly guy who just loves to love on you.
-
A/N: i want him. im posting sm cus theres soo many things in my drafts guys, imma try to even my posting days out though, bare with me <3.
799 notes · View notes
taegimood · 4 months
Note
What do you think are the ways txt would make you needy?
(Like calling you pet names, starting to get touchy...)
–😺
nonnie!! ooooh this thought.. i’m gonna assume you mean intentionally? sorry if i’m wrong 🥺
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txt knowing just what to do to get your attention and make you needy for them..
yeonjun is all about teasing touches. fleeting ones - ones that make you wonder if he meant to do that as your thighs rub together longingly. (of course, yeonjun always knows exactly what he’s doing). he’ll stand just a little closer than usual, enveloping you in his scent, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he leans over to “see what you’re up to” without ever actually touching you — or his hands skimming lightly over your waist as he passes by you in the kitchen, hard bulge brushing against your ass on purpose — or his nimble fingers trailing along your thigh as he “helps you fix your shorts” because you just look cold, is all. (which of course causes you to actually shiver). he especially will bring out the more intimate pet names to really get you going, too. “you seem tense, kitten..” (cee wya 👀) or “what’s wrong, sweet girl?” 🤤 he really is a sly fox, huh?
soobin gets extra touchy. not in a sneaky way like yeonjun, because he knows that the more direct he is, the wetter your panties will be when he finally takes them off of you. soobin generally tends to be on the shyer side — so when he gets bold with you, all nonchalant as he sits you over his lap to “show you a video he found” or even going as far as to have you taste test something he’s baking by “innocently” putting an icing-coated finger to your lips for you to suck clean… well, there’s no way your pussy isn’t gonna be throbbing. he definitely uses your hand kink to his advantage as well. will come up behind you and massage your shoulders under the guise of helping you de-stress, meanwhile right before he steps away he’s sneaking his hand around to graze your throat.. a caress that has you reeling before he’s walking away leaving you high and dry 😩 (or wet, rather)
beomgyu is a MENACE. will shamelessly and infuriatingly have his hands all over you, but the second you try to reciprocate, he’s waltzing away to “go do something he forgot” or just straight up not letting you touch him back, dodging you as he giggles in your face. he just loves being a brat and a tease. you’re standing on a chair trying to decorate your shared bedroom wall, and he’s using that as his chance to squeeze at your ass — you squeal in surprise and he’s laughing, laying on a smooch and then a solid smack as he walks away while you’re left standing there like 😦. he’ll say the most unhinged shit, too. out in public and everything when he whispers “would love to fuck you dumb in those” right in your ear as you pass by a lingerie display window. your gasp has him grinning to himself, especially when he can tell just how much it effected you from the wobbly way that you tried to shove him after in defense..
taehyun is outright with it. similar to gyu, he doesn’t beat around the bush, but he does, however, make you want it. where beomgyu is big and teasing with his methods, taehyun on the other hand.. one look from him has you squeezing your thighs together. that look, which he gives you when he wants you all to himself. out with friends and his eyes are boring into yours from across the table, or he’s seated beside you and you can just feel the heat of his stare.. he’ll have your thigh beneath his large palm, massaging his fingers against your heat while casually carrying on a conversation with your friends, ignoring the way you’re trying hard not to whimper at his touch. other times you’ll be milling about, organizing stuff around the apartment, when you look up to see him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, just watching you — before you can even ask he’s stating so matter-of-factly, “i want you.” the heat that INSTANTLY pools in your panties is record-breaking. and he knows it, too.
huening kai’s usual sweet touches come with an edge when he’s trying to get you hot and bothered. he’s still sweet! but.. there’s a little something else there, too. he’ll brush your hair off your forehead innocently, and in the same motion, he’s dipping his head to press a hinting kiss beneath your ear. gentle hand at your waist as he guides you past him, but wait, is it your imagination when his hand slides forward to press against your lower belly..? this man is always pet name central, but when he wants to stir you up, there’s almost a teasing, deliciously condescending lilt to them that you find yourself questioning whether or not you really heard as your breath catches in your throat. he’ll make sure you know for sure, though, when his hand gently grips your chin so he can press a kiss to your forehead with a smug little smile and a cute crinkle of his nose~ accidentally slipped a little dom kai in there oops 🫣
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darkbluekies · 10 months
Note
What about dr kry with a darling that's scared of needles?
Panic point
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Doctor!yandere OC x reader
Summary: you have to have your blood tested. Only problem? You're afraid of needles.
Warnings: blood, panic attack(?)
Word count: 1.3k
He’s feared this day — and so have you. 
You need to get your blood taken, just to make sure that you’re healthy … or at least as healthy as Dr Kry will allow you to be. You hate needles more than anything else on this pesky planet — maybe even more than being bedridden. Dr Kry hates to force you to do something you’re so afraid off and at the same time terrified of the results he’ll get from the test. But it has to be done, he needs to know where he has you. 
“Y/N?” he asks as he enters the empty room. “Where did you go?”
He walks around, looks behind the curtains, under the bed and under his desk. You’re nowhere. That’s when he notices the bathroom. The red image under the handle is all he needs to know to understand where you are. He walks over and leans against the door. 
“Y/N, don’t be like this”, he says slowly and tries the door handle. 
“I’m not doing it!” you growl from inside the bathroom. “Not a chance!”
“Y/N …”
“I would rather die!”
Dr Kry sighs and rolls his eyes. 
“The quicker you come out, the quicker it’s over”, he reminds you. “I have everything set up, it’ll only take five minutes … probably less. I just need to put a little band over your arm and hit a vein. I don’t need more.”
“Never.”
“Y/N, don’t make me take the door off the hinges.”
A second of silence follows before you blow off. 
“Fucking leave me alone!” you scream angrily. “I fucking hate you! I told you that I don’t want to do it! Just leave me alone!”
Dr Kry clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. Anger rises through his chest, but he knows that he can’t let himself get mad. Not at you. Not at his sweetheart. It’s not your fault that you scream at him. You can never do anything wrong in his eyes. You’re just scared, you’re not meaning to do this.
“Y/N, come out in this instant”, he says firmly. “I’m not playing around. You have to do this, whether you like it or not. It’s for your health, to make sure you feel better!”
A few seconds of silence follows, and then a click from the door. Dr Kry wants to rip the door open to prevent you from changing your mind and locking it, but he doesn’t want to scare you even further. You open it carefully and meet his eyes. You’re glaring at him. 
“Thank you”, he says and takes a hold of the door. “Shall we start?”
You don’t answer. You push past him and sit down on your bed with your arms crossed. Dr Kry follows and sinks down on his rolling stool. 
“Would you like me to explain everything I’m going to do?” he asks. “So you’ll feel a bit more comfortable?”
You nod shortly. 
“I will tie a rubber band around your arm until a vein is exposed”, he starts calmly and takes out the needle. “Then I will use this one to take a few drops of blood. Afterwards it’s done.”
“That thing is fucking huge!” you raise your voice. 
“It’s not huge, Y/N.” He puts the syringe back. “Let’s start. Give me your left arm.”
You don’t comply. Dr Kry sighs and takes your arm in his hand. He pulls the rubber band over your arm and waits until a vein is prominent. Carefully, he wipes the skin with a disinfected wet wipe. You flinch as he picks up the syringe. 
“No, no, no, no-”, you babble while shaking your head and trying to pull your arm back.
“Y/N, stop”, Dr Kry says and holds your arm still in a firm, strong grip. “If you move around I might hurt you.”
You start to sob and Dr Kry puts down the syringe. He puts his now free hand on your cheek to wipe your tears while holding your left arm firmly with the other.
“It’s going to be okay”, he says softly. “It’s going to be quick and it won’t hurt.”
“Yes, it will!” you sniffle. 
“Maybe just a little sting, but you’ve been through worse.”
“Please don’t do it, doctor … please.”
“I’m sorry, I have to.”
“I can take a urine sample, a-anything else! Just not a needle.”
“I need to check your blood, not your urine. Believe me, Y/N, if I thought that a urine sample was good enough, I’d let you take one. But it’s not as accurate. I have to know exactly how you’re feeling.”
You hide your face into his arm. Dr Kry caresses your hair. 
“Let’s get it over with, okay?” he encourages. “You’re strong, you’re amazing. How about we get something yummy to eat later as a prize for you being so so brave, hm? How about a muffin?”
You nod into his arm. The coming seconds are either too fast or too slow, none of you can recall how much time passes. The needle breaks through the skin and you look away with a whimper. Dr Kry watches the blood enter the syringe and pulls it out of your arm. He places a cotton pad over the small hole in your skin. 
“Hold that”, he says. 
You take the cotton pad in a shaking hand and hold it over the small hole. Dr Kry closes the tube and puts a band aid over the hole, pressing down on it for a few seconds. 
“And we’re done!” he says, cupping your cheeks. “You did so well, I’m so proud of you, Y/N!”
You sob in relief. Dr Kry wants to hug you, but he has to be professional. 
“You did so, so well”, he says proudly. “See? It wasn’t too bad.”
“Can I get a muffin now?” you ask quietly. 
Dr Kry chuckles and nods. He leaves and comes back ten minutes later with a blueberry muffin from the cafeteria. 
“Here you go”, he says and puts it in your hand. 
You split it in two and hold out one of the halves to him. 
“For me?” he asks, shocked. 
You nod shyly.
“Thank you, Y/N”, he says and takes the split half.
“I’m sorry for swearing at you … and saying that i hate you”, you say shamefully. “I didn’t mean any of it …”
“It’s okay, Y/N, I didn’t take it to heart.”
Yes, he did. 
“I understand that you were scared”, he says and takes a small bite of the muffin. “It’s behind us now, don’t be embarrassed. You can’t do anything wrong in my eyes. I should have prepared you better.”
After you’ve eaten the muffin, he puts you to bed and reads out of the book you’re currently reading. You drift off to sleep in no time. Dr Kry closes the book and looks at you with a fond smile. You have the teddy bear he gave you last christmas under your arm, snuggling with it. You have it every time you’re napping and it makes Dr Kry want to melt into a puddle. He tucks you in and places the book back in the book shelf. Before walking out, he regulates the toxic air purifier. Every time he has to leave you, his heart shrinks. 
Dr Kry tests your blood down in the lab. He’s careful with every action. Your blood is precious, he doesn’t want to spill any of it. It will have put you through misery for nothing. He will come back in a week and see if there’s any haunting results. Dr Kry takes a deep breath. He’s positive that you’re okay. You have to. He can’t imagine what he’s going to do if you’re not … he doesn’t dare to imagine it. 
He walks back to your room and decides to do some paper work while you sleep soundly behind him. It’s these types of moments he wishes could last forever. 
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sluttywonwoo · 1 year
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no nut november — felix (loser #6)
pairing: lee felix x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, special guest appearance, jealousy, smut (18+), fwb, protected sex, hard(ish) dom!felix, spit kink, choking, multiple orgasms, orgasm control
a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i’s collab <3
word count: 3.6k
series masterlist
No one had expected Felix to last this long, least of all Felix himself. When he woke up to Chan’s text saying he lost, he almost couldn’t believe it. Bang Chan was one of the most competitive members of the group. He honestly thought Chris would have had a little more control. 
But Chan’s loss left Felix in the final three, which felt like a big deal. Felix considers himself to be competitive as well, even though he isn’t particularly good at games. He isn’t particularly good at not cumming either, so it’s a miracle that he hasn’t yet. He hadn’t put much stake in the bet at the beginning since he didn’t think he had any chance at winning, anyway, but as more members dropped out and the finish line crept closer, he began to take it more seriously.
He’d even been so careless to have tried to have sex with you at the beginning of the month, convincing himself he could last through it, before pulling out a couple minutes in with a frantic “no no no no no!” 
Felix hasn’t taken any risks since then. 
You’ve been completely understanding about it, to his relief, and haven’t stopped hanging out with him even though you know you won’t be getting laid like you usually would. That type of behavior is obviously expected from a girlfriend, but you’re not his girlfriend even though he treats you like one and talks about you to the guys as if you are. They all know it’s not official and if Felix refers to you as “his girl” without actually making you his girl one more time, he’s convinced Chan’s gonna slap him. He’d deserve it, to be fair. He’s a coward and he knows it. 
You’re not dating, you’re simply friends with benefits and he likes it like that- at least that’s what he tells himself. It takes the pressure off. Even though you’re not exclusive, he’s not fucking anyone else. You are kind of his person in his mind but he would never admit that out loud. He loves spending time with you and going on dates with you and waking up next to you, but at the end of the day he’s a bit of a commitmentphobe. So what if it’s a shitty excuse? He just doesn’t want to fuck up what you guys have going on and lose you completely. Maybe one day he’ll get the balls to have that talk with you, but for now he’s content with the dynamic you already have, that is until the last week of November.
The end of the month is just around the corner and victory is so close he can taste it. He’s been doing so well, resisting the urge to touch you whenever he’s near you. You’re over a lot these days, which he loves but also hates because of how hard you make everything, literally. 
 You’re in his bed today, dangerous territory already, but Minho and Seungmin were occupying the living space so you had no choice but to hang out in his room. Somehow you’d ended up tangled together beneath his sheets, making out and desperately grabbing at each other. Felix feels you grind into him, feels himself getting harder in response, and realizes he won’t be able to stop if you keep going like this. He’s so tempted to just say fuck it and throw caution to the wind, but he’s so close to winning that he knows he’ll never forgive himself if he gives in now.
Felix forces himself to pull back, breaking the kiss. “We should... probably stop,” he says breathlessly, hating himself for ruining the mood.
You take a moment to process and then push yourself away from him, nodding. “Oh, right. I totally forgot about the bet, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to- that I haven’t been able to you know.”
“Lix, how many times have I told you it’s not a big deal?”
“It’s not fair to you, though. I hate leaving you hanging when you’re horny.” And you seem really horny. You were all up on Felix a few seconds ago, already whimpering into his mouth and tugging at the buttons on his shirt.
You scoff. “It’s not like I’m going to die if I don’t get some dick in the next hour.”
“You’re all worked up now, though, and-” 
“I promise you, Felix, it’s fine. I’ll just call Wooyoung to pick me up in like thirty minutes.”
Felix nods before he processes what you’ve said, then it clicks and he whips his head back up to look at you. “Wooyoung? Jung Wooyoung?”
“Mhm.”
“Why would he pick you up when I can just take you back home myself-”
“Lix, he wouldn’t be taking me home...” you trail off a little uncomfortably. 
“What, are you guys like fucking or something?”
It’s supposed to be a joke, a suggestion so outlandish that it would break the tension but you don’t laugh. Felix panics. 
“Wait, seriously?”
You sit up and cross your arms over your chest. “I mean, not as often as you and I but yeah... we hang out sometimes.”
“And by ‘hang out’, you mean his dick hangs out inside of you?”
“Lee Felix!”
“Sorry! It’s just... this is news to me, that’s all.”
That’s not all, and Felix is afraid you can see right through him but he tries to brush it off anyway. 
“Are you okay?” you ask tentatively, reaching for him. 
He jerks away from you out of instinct and immediately regrets it. This is not a good look for him and he knows it. He huffs out a breath and takes your hand in apology, squeezing in reassurance. 
“Lix... is this going to be a problem?”
“N-no, no it won’t be,” he lies. “Just, will you stay a little longer tonight?”
You soften. “Yeah, of course.”
Felix shifts on the bed and pulls you in close, playing with your hair as you nestle yourself into his side. He thinks back to the last time he saw Wooyoung. It was at some stupid after party for The Fact Awards, just over a month ago. You were Felix’s date, he’d gone to get you both a flute of champagne from the table of refreshments, and when he came back, you were in the middle of conversation with Wooyoung. 
Felix didn’t even know you knew each other. If he had, he would have invited you to more of their Strayteez hangouts- any excuse to spend more time with you, honestly. 
He approached the two of you and presented you with your drink, placing his newly free hand on the small of your back as he sipped from his glass. 
“Felix!” Wooyoung exclaimed and pulled the younger man in for a hug. Felix nearly spilled his champagne down Wooyoung’s back but managed to hold it just out of the way so that only a little bit splashed out onto the floor. 
When Wooyoung finally released him, Felix looked between the two of you, trying to connect the dots. 
“So how do you guys know each other?” he asked. 
You just exchanged looks with Wooyoung and chuckled awkwardly, something Felix hadn’t caught on to at the time.
 He feels like an idiot looking back on it. Wooyoung had known this whole time that they were both sleeping with you and never thought to mention it. It was technically none of Felix’s business, but he couldn’t help feeling betrayed by his friend. And Changbin! He was even better friends with Wooyoung than Felix was. He had to have known you were hooking up and also managed to neglect sharing that important piece of information. He would be having words with that man whenever you left and he got back from his girlfriend’s house. 
“I’m sorry for not telling you,” you whisper all of the sudden, breaking the silence. “I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I know you can be sensitive about these things so-”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Felix blurts out. 
“But-”
“We’re not exclusive or anything and we agreed on that. As long as you’re being safe with him...”
You nod. “You don’t have to worry about that. We use condoms, just like us. No one’s getting an STI.”
Felix hums thoughtfully. He’s honestly relieved that you aren’t letting Wooyoung fuck you raw, not because he’s worried about protection even though that is a concern, but moreso because it would imply you like him more or you’re more serious about him than you are about Felix. It’s a petty victory but a victory nonetheless. 
He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, enjoying the feeling of having you close. It’s not a very ‘friends with benefits’ thing to do so he hopes you don’t mind, but you don’t move away from him which he takes as a good sign.
“Don’t go to his place tonight,” Felix murmurs into your hair. “Let- let me take care of you instead.”
You stiffen in his arms. “But... the bet.”
“I don’t fucking care,” he rasps. 
You turn a little more so that you can face him. “Felix, I’ll stay. We don’t have to have sex.”
“I want to,” he insists. “Unless you don’t?”
“No, I want to,” you assure him. 
“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”
“Positive. I was all over you not even ten minutes ago, remember?”
Felix grins. “I remember, I remember. But things can change, you know?”
“You’re sweet,” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth like you were rewarding him for it. 
“I try.”
“So how do you want me?” you ask. 
He takes a moment to think about it. “Um, want me on top?”
“Mhm that sounds good.”
“Yeah? You like just laying there and looking pretty? Like me taking control?”
The change in his demeanor makes you whimper, stroking Felix’s ego significantly. He pushes the blankets off of your bodies and rolls on top of you, taking your chin in his hand so that he can force you to look up at him. 
You arch to kiss him but he dodges you, smirking and still holding your jaw in place. You pout and try to turn your head to the side to break out of his grasp but he manages to keep his grip, surprising you both. Felix isn’t weak, but it’s usually pretty easy for you to overpower him. When you realize you can’t this time you stop trying, relaxing back into the mattress with a sigh of annoyance.
“Look at me.”
You do, eyes wide and eager. He spreads his fingers until his thumb is resting on one of your cheeks and the rest of his fingers are splayed out across the other, squeezing your face gently to get you to open your mouth. 
“C’mon, baby. A little wider.” You obey easily and Felix spits into your mouth. “Swallow. Good girl.”
He’s quick to undress you both so that he can get his head between your legs, needing to taste you after going so long without having you on his tongue. You’re wetter than he expected and he can’t stop himself from groaning at the sight. 
“God, baby, making a mess already. Gonna have to change my sheets after this.”
His comment makes you shrink into yourself in embarrassment. “You have no one to blame but yourself for that.”
Felix grins. “I know.” 
He makes you cum with his tongue and his fingers twice, feeling a little like he has something to prove after learning that he has competition. He wants to go for another, but his cock is aching at this point and he’s worried he’ll cum his pants before he gets to fuck you if he does. 
“Still okay?” he asks, checking in. 
“Perfect,” you respond. “You’re so good at that.”
Better than him? Felix wants to ask, but he doesn’t. He’s not entirely sure he wants the answer to the question, not entirely sure he’ll believe you if you tell him what he wants to hear. 
“Are you good to keep going?”
“Yes, please fuck me already.”
Felix chuckles. “Always so impatient.”
“You would be too if you knew how good your dick is.”
He curses, dick twitching. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”
“I try,” you parrot. 
Felix gets up on his knees and reaches over to his bedside table. He opens the first drawer and pulls out a condom, bringing the foil packet to his teeth to rip it open when you suddenly reach out to stop him. 
“Let me?” you ask. 
“Yeah, baby. Go ahead.”
He hands it to you and watches as you do the same thing he was about to. You take the condom out of the wrapper and hand the trash back to Felix. He scoffs but accepts it anyway and tosses it in the bin that was easily within your reach without complaint. 
You pull his boxers down just below his butt, just enough to get his cock out, and roll on the condom, jerking him a few times before you do. You’ve never done this for him before and it all feels very intimate. His breath catches in his throat when you touch him for the first time and he shudders. He makes himself stay very still as you work. One wrong move and he’ll cum all over your hand and ruin everything. 
He’s in awe of how careful you are with it. You gently guide the material down his length, making sure that the elastic doesn’t accidentally pinch him in the process.
“That feel okay?” you ask once it’s on all the way. 
“Mhm. Now come here.” 
He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls, yanking you forward and making your head fall back onto the pillow. Once your body is flush with his, he positions himself and guides his cock inside of you, holding his breath yet again as his name falls from your lips in a strained whisper.
God, this was a mistake. He’s going to embarrass himself, isn’t he? Why did he think this was a good idea? Why did he let his jealousy color his judgment? It wasn’t even about the bet anymore. He already knew he wouldn’t last when he decided to fuck you. He wasn’t that naive. 
No, it was the fact that his pride was on the line and it’s taking all of his strength and willpower not to cum on the spot. It’s been weeks since he’s felt you, felt anything for that matter, obviously it was going to feel incredible. 
Felix always cums faster than he wants to when he’s with you. The (literal) grip your pussy has on him is ridiculous. Does Wooyoung have this problem? Honestly, probably. Felix likes to think that anyone in his position would struggle.
“Fuck, fuck, don’t move,” Felix pleads. “Just. Stay like that. One second.”
You start to nod before remembering what ‘don’t move’ means and then freeze in place, mild concern replacing the lust reflected in your eyes.
“I’m fine,” he grunts out and closes his eyes, willing the feeling to pass. 
“Are you sure?”
“I’m s-sure.”
He can tell you don’t believe him but you don’t press any further which he’s thankful for. You wait patiently for him to recompose himself and when he finally does, he asks you if he’s good to start moving. 
“Yeah, give it to me.”
“Careful what you ask for.”
You roll your eyes and wrap your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper inside of you with a smirk. Brat. 
“Behave,” he warns.
“Or what?” you challenge, raising your eyebrows. 
“Do you really want to go there?” 
You shrug indifferently. “Haven’t decided. Now, are you going to fuck me or what?”
He has to cover your mouth with his hand when he starts snapping his hips into yours, forgetting about how loud you get when you’re this worked up. 
“Baby, we’re not home alone, you have to be quiet,” he hisses, even though he’d much rather hear all your pretty sounds. 
“Feels too good,” you whine. “Fuck me harder, Lix! Please, harder...”
“Harder? Gonna break you in half if I go any harder.”
“Yes, yes, break me in half,” you sob. “It’s been so long. Missed this so much.”
“Will you be good and stay quiet for me if I give you what you want?”
You nod. “I can be good.”
“Are you lying?”
You hesitate. “Maybe.”
Felix laughs coldly and shakes his head in disbelief.
“But not because I don’t want to be good!” you protest. “I just can’t help it.”
“I know, baby,” he coos condescendingly. “Can’t even think straight when you’re so fucked out like this, isn’t that right?”
“Uh-huh.”
The change in dynamic is almost comical. Mere minutes ago, Felix could barely move without cumming, too lost in the feeling of your hot cunt to concentrate. Now, you’re the one gasping for air and clawing at his back like an animal. Even Felix is surprised by the amount of self-control he’s exerting. He’s using it to his advantage though, taking the opportunity to thoroughly ruin you like you deserve. 
Even if you’re completely silent, the sounds coming from Felix’s room are obscene and anyone that walks by would immediately know what you were up to. Seungmin or Minho had probably already texted the groupchat announcing Felix’s loss but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to make you feel better than Wooyoung ever could. 
“Does he fuck you like this? Huh?” Felix is wandering into dangerous territory, he knows, but he can’t help asking. He needs to know. “Does he make you feel this good? Cum this hard?”
“No!” you cry. “No, he doesn’t!”
“Be honest,” he growls, wrapping his hand around your throat. He only applies a little pressure, just enough to make you lightheaded the way you like. 
“I am! I’m being honest, I promise.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Lix, ‘m gonna... gonna cum,” you whine. 
“Who told you you could do that?” 
Your eyes get wide at his response, bottom lip trembling. “What?”
“Who gave you permission to cum?” Felix demands. He’s right there on the edge himself so he doesn’t really know why he’s dragging it out, but he just wants to see you squirm a little more. 
Thankfully, you’re quick to adapt to the new rules. “Can I? Can I please cum? I need it, baby. Please make me cum... please tell me I can. I’m not gonna be able to stop myself if you don’t...” 
The desperation in your eyes does something for him, and knowing he can’t hold back any longer, he relents. “Go ahead. Be a good girl and cum for me, baby.”
He’s only halfway through the sentence when your body locks up and you scream his name, gushing around his cock. If he’d waited any longer you wouldn’t have been able to obey him. He helps you ride it out by rubbing your clit and fucking you through it, letting his own orgasm wasm over him as you’re still clenching around him. 
“Oh god, I’m cumming. I’m cumming, fuck!” he groans, making a last ditch effort to stop it before it happens. But his efforts are in vain because it’s too late and he’s cumming into the condom so hard his vision whites out.
When he starts to come down, you’re still weakly rocking your hips into his, whimpering with every thrust. 
Felix winces at the oversensitivity but doesn’t stop you. With how long it’s been since he last got off it won’t be long until he’s hard again. 
“Insatiable tonight, aren’t you?” he muses. “Came three times and still want more.”
You frown and try to get yourself to stop without much success. It’s like your hips are moving on their own accord. “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be. Want you to be satisfied.”
“God, you’re so good to me,” you moan and wrap your arms around Felix’s neck, making his chest feel tight all of the sudden. 
“It’s what you deserve.”
He doesn’t have enough energy to hold himself up above you properly so he has you roll over onto your side so that he can slip himself inside of you and you can fuck yourself back against him that way. 
While you’re doing that, Felix feels around the bed for his phone, grabbing it when he feels it under one of his pillows. 
Like he predicted, he doesn’t even have to announce his loss because his roommates did it for him. 
Min: Felix lost
Chris: what? how do you know?
Seungmin: we heard it happening :/
Min: and we’re traumatized
Innie: thank god i wasn’t home
Felix: you guys could have LEFT. you didn’t HAVE to listen!!!! btw changbin i need to talk to you
Min: oh no not his government name. someone’s in troubleeee
Binnie: um. 0.0 should i be worried 
Felix doesn’t respond right away, wanting to make Changbin sweat a little for the trouble he’d put him through. 
He puts his phone on his bedside table so he doesn’t lose it in his bedding again and turns his attention back to you. The oversensitivity had started to bleed together with pleasure and Felix could feel his cock getting stiff again. He groans and buries his face in your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. 
There was still a lot to talk about with you. He needed to address his feelings, be honest about everything. But for now...
“Round two?”
nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady—-boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
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Another, another Drabble that might be longer than I originally planned…the ending was dogshit🦦
‘It’s cute.’ Sylvia Newbon of the Aphrodite cabin cooed as Luke flashed you a charming smile.
‘Then you can have him then,’ you began, plucking loose threads from your jeans, ‘he’s been nothing but an annoying pain in my ass as of late.’
Sylvia merely chucked as she playfully nudged you in the side. ‘I don’t think that’s possible at this pount, Luke seems dead set on you, and I honestly think you’re being dramatic about all this. You’ve got someone pinning after you and your response to that is to be rid of it?’ She said aghast. You shrugged, not really understanding what Luke saw in you, a child of Hades, a forbidden child other than that; a forbidden child whose existence shouldn’t have come to pass.
‘He’ll get bored of me once he realises I’m not who he thinks I am.’ You defended, now watching Luke as he took a small break from training, face still bearing that smile that only seemed to grow to the point his dimples and pearly whites were on full display. You didn’t want to be the one responsible in taking take away that shine. Ever. For it seemed that ever since your first arrival to camp, Luke had been the only one to stand by you without an ounce of trepidation for who your godly father was; He had been there during the sleepless nights despite the fact he didn’t need to, during your time at the Hermes cabin he would be beside you in the dinning pavilion or even save you a seat.
He did everything in his power to help you and be of aid, all without expecting a simple thank you in return…You genuinely hated how you felt towards him. You originally put it down to the fact that Luke Castellan was conventionally attractive, only to soon learn that it was much deeper than that, which had scared you to the point of becoming recluse.
‘Don’t say that.’ Sylvia said sternly. ‘Don’t do that to yourself, don’t sell yourself short. I hate it when you do that because that means missing out on something pure, something beautiful, something real.’ She then grasps onto your hands, holding them with a strength that was reflective of her passion. ‘I don’t want fear of rejection, for fear itself to control you any longer because if there’s anyone in camp who deserves to be happy, it’s you. You’re the child of hades for fuck sake, fear is beneath you and you know it but you still willingly give it power over you. Why? Why deny yourself true happiness when it’s served up to you on a silver platter-‘
‘Because I’m afraid!’ You exclaimed, cutting Sylvia off but find it difficult to stop. ‘I’m afraid that I won’t be enough for him, that I’ll take away his smile that shows off his perfect teeth and cute dimples! I’m afraid that he’ll never be satisfied being with me because even in a camp full of people like me, much like Nico, I still feel the outcast and I don’t want to burden Luke with that.’ You finished, slightly out of breath. ‘So it’d be better for the both of us if I just kept my distance.’ Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other, letting nothing but the silence to take hold, but then you saw the sudden shift in Sylvia’s eyes as they looked to something just behind you.
You didn’t need to know who it was behind you, not when you could clearly see from where you sat that Luke was missing from his little group of friends that were heading off elsewhere; which was probably why you didn’t express surprise upon hearing his voice from behind saying. ‘I know I probably fucked up my chances by eavesdropping but I completely disagree with everything you said just now.’ You didn’t even react when Luke sat himself down, nor make any attempts to move away when he then shuffled closer to you as humanly possible. Sylvia -obviously knowing what was going to happen- smiled softly as she stood up and promptly left you and Luke to your much needed conversation.
‘And why’s that?’ You rhetorically asked, looking at him as though you weren’t having an internal breakdown as to what might come out of his mouth next. ‘Would me saying I like you be substantial enough evidence?’ He asks.
‘We’re not in a romcom movie Luke, a simple I like you is never going to be enough, especially for people like me who have never been given much of a reason for staying, never mind a good one at that.’ You replied and Luke hummed in acknowledgment before grabbing you hand in a similar fashion as Sylvia did prior; with a strength reflective of his passion. ‘Then let me try again by saying that the day you came to camp was probably the most important day of my life.’ Luke began. ‘From the moment Chiron brought you to the Hermes cabin I knew right then and there that I was a goner. I must’ve been obvious as even some of camp began to notice how I acted towards you and would come up and tell me to tell you and get it over with…but I didn’t because I’d thought I would have enough time to tell you eventually.’ He chuckles, squeezing your hand while you listened intently.
‘I was wrong on that front because it wouldn’t be long until you were claimed by Hades and soon after you had already packed your stuff to move into your new cabin. It wasn’t until then did I realise that I took our friendship for granted, I knew that sooner or later you’d be claimed but at least not for a while, I often asked myself why did I cling onto you so desperately and now I know why.’ Luke finished, looking at you deeply.
‘Why?’ You asked, already knowing the answer.
‘It’s because I didn’t want you to move on and forget about me when I was very much liked the thought of you being close to me, closer than a friend should. So while your cabin was being built I took that as a final attempt in getting closer to you before being forced to wake up in a cabin void entirely of your presence for good.’ Luke replied.
You licked your lips, suddenly overtly away of how dry they were. ‘and here I thought you were just being the friendly head of the Hermes cabin.’ You admitted humourlessly, resting your head against his shoulder without a care. ‘How oblivious was I?’
‘How oblivious we both were you mean.’ Luke corrected as he rested his head atop of yours, briefly closing his eyes. ‘I just hope that I’ve given you enough reason to stay at camp.’ At those words you squeezed his hand in reassurance and uttered softly for him to hear. ‘you gave me that and so much more.’
Luke pressed a kiss to your head. ‘Good because I would’ve followed you into Tartarus and back if I hadn’t.’
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guardian-of-soho · 8 months
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For how tender and domestic (and “quiet and romantic”) the new season is, there’s such an endless sense of hovering danger around the little haven of the bookshop in the present day (not to mention the flashbacks). It’s implied they’ve been left alone a few years; but it’s clear the peace is ending.
From the moment “Jim” arrives we’re never left a minute without the shadow of Heaven or Hell darkening the doorstep of the bookshop and their safety, until the night the last-ditch dance to hold Heaven off turns into Hell coming over the threshold. They’re not left to peace. They’re not allowed to find their human happiness — not via the dance nor even by their one big kiss — not so long as Heaven and Hell want them gone. Not so long as their love stands as the threat to Eternity that it is.
That’s the only way I can make any sense of Aziraphale’s return to Heaven. They never left him alone, and for all he seemed sure of himself in helping Jim hide from them, and wooing Crowley amidst their invasions, and even refusing the Metatron at first — he must have felt the end approaching. He must have known that whatever was done to Jim could be done to him too.
He could lose himself. He could lose his capacity to protect Crowley, or Soho and the humans he loved. He could lose all memory of what had been so precious to him, worth defying Heaven for, and why he was on Earth, and who he could trust, and why.
Others have pointed out how determinedly he ignores Crowley’s fear amid the dancing. I think — I hope — that it’s not that he doesn’t want to hear him. It’s that he is pushing back his own fear to reach for happiness; it’s that he needs so badly to let him know he loves him, before it’s too late. He needs to have a moment’s romance. He knows “too late” is coming.
And then it’s there.
And still when Heaven offers him a way to dodge the doom they bring, he refuses point blank until they promise he can buy Crowley’s safety by his surrender. (And it is a surrender, for all he says he believes he’ll be in charge. Within moments of losing Crowley he’s giving the Metatron the same fake smiles and feigned agreement he’s always offered Heaven. He’s leashed again.) He wants their safety, he wants it unassailable, and I hope that’s the first reason he went back. (I don’t imagine the promise of their approval meant nothing to him. I think he wants their power and their praise. But I don’t believe it was what he wanted first.)
He’s just watched their haven (our shop!) invaded by Hell, and then by Heaven, and then watched two traitors in love, the heads of their sides, driven to the far reaches of the universe under threat of being followed — that’s not the end he wants for him and Crowley. He doesn’t imagine Heaven can be as sweet for them as Earth; but he believes their days on Earth are numbered. I think having watched their refuge breached so easily has had the same effect on him that watching it burn had on Crowley — nothing feels safe anymore; nothing feels permanent.
But Crowley’s reaction was “I want to spend whatever time we have left together as far away as we can get,” Aziraphale’s is “I want to invade the heart of the threat and turn it into home.” They’re so terribly brave; and they’re so in need of some humans showing them how to face down a threat together instead of running or joining it. I want to watch a replay of the airfield last stand, and the bookshop battle, but with power enough on their side to win Earth’s permanent peace.
I want Crowley and Aziraphale both to decide that even without Adam’s power or any particular prophecy or a tangible plan, they’ll take their chances on the humans’ side for good and all, and count it worth the dangers. And I want to see them win. Earth’s side has been theirs; they deserve to be sheltered and saved by it, too.
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sicbaby · 6 months
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two words .. stalker Leon!
oh yes…. my favorite leon <3
he’s so sweet and such a gentleman on the outside. but then he meets you. you’re so pretty, a little older than him and he feels like he’ll never have a chance with you. it unlocks a dark, fucked up side of him he never thought he had.
being a cop gives him a lil bit of a power trip.. he develops a complex over it. even though he’s too shy to actually approach you, he’ll use his cop skills to get around, just to see you.
at first it’s coincidental, at least, that’s what u think. he finds out ur favorite coffee shop and meets u there every morning. police officer kennedy. he’s an attractive young man, cute and sweet and super polite.
he’ll sit in his patrol car outside of your work. waits for u to get out if it’s slow and he’ll follow close behind, memorizing your schedule.
hes satisfied with just this for a few weeks. your short interactions in the morning at the coffee shop are enough for him. until it isn’t.
it’s like there’s an itch deep inside of him that he can’t scratch, can’t get rid of. he’s had enough following you around, jerking off in his patrol car outside of your work thinking about you.
he starts breaking into your house. it’s easy. he’s a cop, and you’re just a dumb girl who lives alone and accidentally left her back window unlocked.
he’s careful, not wanting to rearrange things to the point where it’s noticeable. he steals a few of your panties, and not the clean ones in your drawer.
sometimes he’ll break in just to nap in your bed, smelling you in the sheets until he’s drifted off into a comfortable slumber. other times he’ll use your dirty panties to jerk himself off, cumming in them so he doesn’t get your bed all dirty.
like i said before, cop power trip. he suddenly has a master plan. he starts stealing small items one by one, until you finally notice. you’re on edge, thinking you’re crazy.
you come into the coffee shop one morning, constantly staring off into space until leon asks you what’s wrong.
you confide in him, too easily. but he’s a cop, isn’t he? and he’s so sweet, he’ll be sure to take you seriously and help you out. “i’m sorry to hear that, miss. but rest assured, i won’t let anyone harm you. i’ll personally look into this matter and make sure you’re safe.”
he asks to come over, see if there’s any sign of a break in. he tells you that you “shouldn’t be alone in a time like this.” he drives you over to your house in his patrol car. you’re so easy.
he takes his time with you, though. making sure to listen to your every concern, walking around the house and observing everything closely.
but inside he felt so damn powerful, having you place so much trust in him was turning him on. you had no idea.
“you know, i’ve really gone above and beyond to assist you here. it’s only fair that you show me some appreciation now.”
he walks forward, gripping your chin tightly and forcing you to look at him. “thank me.” he commands, voice low.
you mumble out a quick thank you, your heart racing in fear.
“good girl.”
“now get on your knees. show me how grateful you really are.”
he’s surprised at how quickly you comply. though that confused and worried look on your face is so cute to him.
you were trembling, hands shaking as you reach out to touch him once he gets his cock out for you. he’s painfully hard, and you wonder how long he’s been that way.
he grabs fistfuls of your hair as you suck on his cock messily. your submission and your obedience surprises yet pleases him so much.
this was his reward, his twisted satisfaction, as you fulfilled your duty to thank him for his supposed help. and as you succumbed to his control, leon knew that you were finally his. his to possess, to dominate, and to use as he pleases.
youre sucking him so good, he starts groaning a bunch of different shit. mixture of praise and degradation. he lets it slip that he’s your stalker, the one that’s been stealing your panties and other valuable items from your home, as if it wasn’t already obvious enough.
though your eyes widen, pausing your ministrations on his cock and looking up at him. tears fill your eyes.
“such a pathetic little slut. you thought you could escape me, didn’t you? but now, you’re here, on your knees, ready to serve me. and those tears? they only make me want you more.”
he relishes in his power even more, grabbing your hair roughly and forcing you to continue. your tears, those pretty little desperate sounds escaping your throat only made the experience more pleasurable for him. he wanted nothing more than to degrade you, break you until you were nothing.
he’d definitely keep you forever after that. cover up your disappearance. make you his sweet little housewife that no one knows about. his pretty little secret <3
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