#I made sure sonny never got him but I wanted to get him first | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

topguncortez · 8 months ago

Text

Slap Shot || Prologue

a Jake Seresin AU

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: the first night out in a long time, and it just so happens to be one of the biggest weekends in the Hockey season. A certain blonde hair cowboy makes his charm on you.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of grief, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of "locker room talk", puck bunnies, mentions of cheating, PDA, making out, allusions of sex.

This wasn’t like you.

You weren’t the type who went out wearing one of the shortest and tightest black dresses you own, killer heels on your feet, your hair curled in big blown out-waves, makeup done and a bright bold red on your lips. You weren’t the type to sit at the bar, twirling the straw around in your drink and flirting with guys whose names you didn’t bother to ask for or learn. And you definitely weren’t the type to actively look for and plan to go home with one of those guys.

But tonight was different.

Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the world had been finally lifted off your shoulders. Grief was such a weird thing. You knew that long ago, but it had been a while since you were met with the process. The first time you went through the grieving process, it had come on so suddenly, you weren’t sure how to handle it. This time, you had years to prepare for it. Once you hit that final phase of acceptance, you felt like you could breathe again. And you had a new outlook on your life and you were ready to take charge of it.

Or maybe it was because the bar was crawling with hockey players.

It was All-Star weekend, and the best of the best NHL players were in town to show off their skills. The bar you were currently sitting in was crawling with them. Some were trying to enjoy probably their first night off in weeks, others looking for a puck bunny (or two) to take back with them, and some fell in the middle.

You sighed as you looked down at your drink, swirling around the melting ice with your straw. The confidence you had felt earlier when you first put on this dress was starting to fade, and the insecurities started creeping in. You weren’t entirely sure what you thought was going to happen when you strolled into this bar. You could count on one hand all the one-stands you have had in your entire life (the answer was one and that one ended up becoming a long term boyfriend). Also, you had a thing about not hooking up with hockey players. You had been surrounded by them your whole life. There was something about hearing the locker room talk the day after a win that made you want to stay as far away from hooking up with one as humanly possible. Even if a hockey player was the last man on the planet, you would weigh the pros and cons of reproduction or killing off the human race.

“Hey,” You waved down the bartender, “Can I get my-”

“Jack and Coke, sweetheart,” A husky voice said, as a large, warm body saddled up next to you, “And whatever the lady is having,” He nodded his head towards you.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at the man next to you. You were met with the sight of perfect tan skin as if it had been kissed by the sun god himself, sandy blonde hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. His green eyes peered down at you, a smirk on his lips.

“You looked like you were going to leave,” He said, his voice with a slight southern twang to it, “And I couldn’t let you leave without introducing myself.”

You raised a brow in suspicion.

“Jake,” He held his hand out to you. You looked at it skeptically, and then back up at him, his smile never wavering, “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I promise I don’t got any diseases. It’s just a hand shake, not a marriage proposal.”

“Sonny,” You said before you even had a chance to stop yourself. It was the nickname your father had given you, and the name he almost always introduced you as.

“Sonny, huh? Short for Sunshine?”

I wish, you thought, “Yeah, I guess.”

The bartender set down two drinks in front of you, the jack and coke for Jake, and another vodka soda for you. Jake lifted his drink, cheersing against yours before taking a sip. He leaned his back against his bar, canvasing the tightly packed area. Your eyes wandered over his body. He was clad in a burnt orange suit, with a lighter orange shirt underneath, a vast difference from the black and navy blue fitted suits filling the bar. It fit him in all the right places, the top buttons undone showing his collarbone and a gold chain around his neck. You watched as his throat bobbed as he took a sip of his drink, and thoughts of you running your tongue down the vein in his neck filled your mind, a warmth spreading in your lower belly.

“I can feel you staring,” Jake said, turning his head to meet your gaze.

Normally, you’d turn away and blush like a schoolgirl. You weren’t inexperienced with guys by any means, but you didn’t have the confidence. The fear of rejection was buried deep into you, that most of them you stayed away from guys like this. But blame it on the alcohol, you gave him a smirk, lifting the straw to your red painted lips.

“A girl can’t admire what she likes?” You shrug, batting your eyelashes.

A flash of darkness moved through his eyes, before the playful grin arose on his cheeks, “Yeah?” He leaned in closer to you. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, goosebumps arising on your skin from the warmth filtering off his body. Who knew that you could get turned on by a man smelling good? “What else does the girl like?”

You bit your lip, leaning into him, so your chest was almost touching his. You didn’t miss the quick shift of his eyes downward at your chest and then back to your eyes.

“Tequila.”

The smirk never left his lips as he turned back towards the bar, ordering two shots of tequila with limes. You took another sip of your drink, setting it down on the bar as the bartender delivered the shots. Jake gently took your hand in his, his green eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe on your skin, before sprinkling a line of salt. The move shouldn’t have turned you on that much, but alas here you were, wondering what it would be like to feel his tongue on other places of your body.

As if he could tell what you were thinking, Jake shot you a wink before handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his glass up slightly, as he gave a small toast.

“To bad decisions. Can’t come in her, come on her.” Jake’s eyes never left your as you both licked the lines of salt on the back of your hands. You watched as he clenched his jaw from the burn of the clear liquid down his throat. You set the shot glass down on the bar, now feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through your veins.

“More?” You asked, a look in your eye that told Jake you weren’t ready for the night to end yet.

“Fuck it.”

The two of you put down a couple of more shots, before Jake was dragging you back to a booth he and his friends had claimed on the other side of the bar. You weren’t sure what it was about Jake, but you felt like you knew him. Maybe it was his easy going smile or how easily a conversation flowed between the two of you. Jake had sat you down next to him in one of the booths, but at some point in time, you had slid into his lap, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, like it belonged there. Your drinks had long been discarded and the ice melted.

“So, what are you in town for?” Jake asked, his lips right next to your ear as he tried to speak over the loud sound of the bass.

“Work stuff,” You shrugged. You would rather not get into the details of what was going to be your most stressful weekend of the whole entire season, “What about you? You live here or…?”

“Nah,” Jake chuckled, “Born and raised, but don’t live here. Also visiting for work.”

Right on cue, one of Jake’s friends set down another tray of shots, everyone around the booth grabbing one. Jake kept his arm around you as he reached to grab one. He raised it up, toasting with the rest of his friends, before turning to look at you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him take the shot, holding the alcohol in his mouth. You didn’t need to be told as his hand gripped your face, and brought your jaw towards him, opening your own mouth. You knew it was obscene as Jake spit the alcohol, which was again tequila into your mouth, but you didn’t care. You had barely swallowed the liquid, when you crashed your lips to his.

Jake’s grip on your hips tightened, and you felt the swelling of his cock against your ass. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the lime and tequila he had taken earlier. His warmth enveloped you, as you rubbed your thighs together trying to get some friction to relieve the aching heat between your legs. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently on the blonde locks, making a groan fall from his lips. Jake’s lips trailed from yours, leaving a path of sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, sucking with just enough pressure to make a moan tumble from your lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart,” Jake whispered against your skin, the feeling making you shiver in his arms, “Want to get out of here?”

You turned to face him. His green eyes were blown wide with lust, his hair tousled from you running your hands through it, his lips slightly swollen and pouty as he looked at you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you placed another heated kiss on his lips before pulling away.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

taglist: @dempy @marchingicenotes7 @abaker74 @aworldwideapart @atarmychick007 @hookslove1592 @whatislovevavy @lynnevanss @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @senawashere @bethbunnyy @bradshawbaby @coconut152 @jazminlahey20 @averyhotchner @misconceptionmistress @drxgxnslxyer @atinytinaa @hangmansgbaby @buckysteveloki-me @himbos-on-ice @krispybearbouquet @fandom-princess-forevermore @seitmai @ateliersss

taglist form

206 notes · View notes

polkadotpenguin16 · 4 months ago

Text

The Five Stages of Grief: Prologue

Broken promises and unspoken words bring your relationship with Sonny Carisi to the edge. You both mourn what was lost and wonder if you can find each other again.

A/N: waaaay back in like March, I came to @misscharlielulu with a silly headcanon, and she helped evolve it into a full-fledged story. Massive shout-out to @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity who so kindly reviewed my drafts and gave me excellent notes. Extra huge thank you to both these lovelies <3

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: much angst; super brief mention of SVU-related violence; anti-Rollisi content; I am not a writer - this is literally the first story I’ve ever written, so read at your own risk

Word count: 3K+ (I know it’s long, I’m sorry!)

This was it – tonight was finally date night. It was long overdue. Two months and five days to be exact. Whenever you and Sonny tried making plans to spend some quality time together, things just never worked out. The first night, you two were supposed to see a movie and get some gelato. Sonny called around noon saying he wouldn’t be back in time. “No big deal,” you told him. You wanted to make him feel better since you knew he felt bad about canceling. The second night, you were going to try a new Chinese restaurant that opened near the Brooklyn apartment you shared. You had almost finished your makeup when he called to say a case just came in and it was all hands on deck.

“I’m sorry, doll. I know I’m letting you down again.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sonny.” You tried to keep your voice light. You didn’t want him to hear how disappointed you were. “You’ve got people who need your help. I get it. Your job’s more important than some greasy Chinese food.”

“It’s not more important than you.” You believed him, although a small part of you was beginning to have doubts. “I’m gonna make this up to you, I swear to God.”

Tonight was attempt number three, and he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to make it up to you. He made reservations at a very nice restaurant in Midtown. “Only the best for my girl,” he told you earlier this week. “And I wanna see you in that red dress I love.”

That’s exactly what you were wearing. A velvet, off-the-shoulder dress with a skirt that whimsically twirled as you moved. You spent more than an hour curling your hair and putting on your makeup. You felt like a million bucks and couldn’t wait for him to see you.

You sat in a cushy booth, nursing a glass of rosé while waiting for Sonny to arrive. You really needed this time with him, and you were sure he felt the same way. Your paths had barely crossed recently between his late nights and early mornings. During the few moments you were able to connect, you noticed how distant he was. His furrowed brow was becoming a permanent fixture on his face. You were worried about him, afraid he was spreading himself too thin. His job seemed to be taking a toll on him.

That’s actually how you met. You were a receptionist at a small bank, and he showed up one day to interview your colleague. When he came back a week later for a follow-up, he asked you out for coffee. You knew the broad strokes of the kinds of cases he investigated, but anything he shared with you was surface-level. He told you he felt fulfilled helping the victims. He had gone to law school and passed the bar to become a better cop. He liked his colleagues: his lieutenant, the ADA, but especially his partner, Amanda.

From the few times you’d met, it was easy to see why Sonny was so fond of her. He told you she was one of the best detectives he’d ever worked with. She spoke very intelligently about her work. Her southern accent made her voice incredibly engaging, even if you didn’t completely understand the intricacies of the conversation. She was impressively quick-witted. She and Sonny were always cracking inside jokes that flew over your head. She was also very beautiful. Stunningly tall and her blonde hair was always perfectly primped.

Sonny also told you she was a single mother who didn’t have any support system here in New York, which is why he tried to help her out as much as he could. He’d offer to watch her kids or help her with errands. They often went out for drinks after they’d closed a case, whether it be a good one or bad one. Sonny and Amanda were exceptionally close…

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel insecure. You and Sonny would be having dinner together and he would be texting her on his phone, focused on a completely different conversation. She’d call evenings and weekends needing help and he’d drop everything to assist.

It made you feel inadequate.

You felt like you weren’t interesting enough to keep his attention. Weren’t smart enough to talk with him about his work. He didn’t trust you enough to confide in. Not like he did Amanda. All the things you felt like you lacked, you saw in her. Not that you would ever mention any of this to Sonny. How could you? She was his partner, his friend.

Best friend.

No one likes a jealous girlfriend. No, this was a “you” problem to sort out. You should just enjoy whatever time with him you have. Like tonight.

You took a break from picking apart your sourdough roll to check the time. 7:45. You tried not to worry – it wasn’t unlike Sonny to be a little late. You decided to wait a little longer before checking in. You didn’t want to nag.

8 o’clock rolled around and you couldn’t help it any longer, so you decided to shoot him a text.

Hi sunshine, let me know when you’re on your way :)

Another 30 minutes passed when your game of Candy Crush was interrupted by his reply.

Hey doll, I’m gonna be home late. I’m taking Rollins home and helping her get the kids in bed. You don’t have to wait up for me, I’ll see you in the morning.

You read the text again, and one more time to be certain. Because you must’ve been mistaken. He couldn’t have forgotten tonight, and he would never stand you up. Date nights were so important to Sonny. He used to text you all day about how excited he was, and he’d always show up early because he couldn’t wait to see you. Yet here you were. He ditched you for Amanda.

Again.

You asked the waiter to bring you the check for the drink you had. Utterly sick to your stomach, there was no way you would be ordering anything to eat, no matter how good the place smelled. You held back your tears and walked out of the restaurant to go home.

You kicked off your shoes when you arrived, then walked into the bathroom. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and paused. You saw your hair that you’d done up so nicely, your makeup that you spent so long trying to get just right, and your dress…that goddamn red dress.

You finally let yourself cry. The tears came hard and fast. You not-so-gracefully wiggled your dress off. It felt like you were in a straitjacket. Once you managed to get it unfastened, you chucked it into the hallway. You collapsed on the floor, overwhelmed by all the emotions you’d been holding back.

Disappointment, anger, betrayal. But more than anything, loneliness. And honestly, you’ve felt alone for a while. So many questions were floating in your head. Did he still love me? Did he ever? Or was Amanda always there between you? Did he…did he love her?

Your body began to shake. You were confronted by all the insecurities you’d been repressing. The walls of the bathroom felt like they were closing in. It was suffocating. The air was wrenched from your lungs as they squeezed tighter and tighter around you. You needed to get out of there.

You shakily stood up and started pacing frantically around your apartment. When you made it to the living room, you stopped in front of the fireplace. On the mantle were a dozen or so framed photos. Some of just you Sonny had taken, but most with both of you. At the park, at an Islander’s game, and your first anniversary. Seeing all these memories made you grieve the relationship you thought you had had.

Was it all a lie?

You weren’t sure anymore but knew you wouldn’t be able to figure anything out while in that apartment.

Through your tears, you scroll through your phone to find your best friend’s number. It was late, but she was a night owl, you knew she’d answer.

“What’s up, girlfriend?” You could hear her munching on chips and what sounded like a Star Wars movie playing in the background.

“Um, hey…” You tried to keep your voice even, but she saw right through it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She knew you too well.

“Nothing, I-I just…I hate to even ask…can I stay at your place?”

“Of course you can,” she soothed immediately. “You always have a place here. What’s going on?”

The story came out in a depressing, uninterrupted stream. You thought you’d feel lighter getting everything off your chest, but you didn’t.

“Oh, my God, that’s…wow.” You heard the shock at how Sonny had been acting turn into a sympathetic wince. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” you muttered, fighting back your tears.

“You’re coming over here and we’ll sort things out. Want me to pick you up?”

“No, I can get a ride. Just…thank you.”

“None needed, you’d do the same for me.”

You pulled your duffel bag out of the closet and started chaotically packing. Grabbing things haphazardly off the bathroom counter. Pulling clothes out of drawers without paying attention to whether they matched. You didn’t care. You needed to put distance between you and that apartment so you could clear your mind and think about the future of your relationship.

Sonny was starting to get a little worried. He hadn’t heard from you since his last text, which you didn’t respond to. He always worried about you, but this was different. Stirring a pot of marinara with one hand, he pulled his phone out of his pocket with the other.

He just had to check one more time.

He was interrupted by two tiny, blonde tornadoes running laps around his legs. He had to admit that while Rollins’ girls were adorable, they could be a bit distracting. He sat his phone down and playfully chased them back into their room so he could get back to finishing dinner. He didn't even think about it again until after they finished eating. By then, it was too late to call since you were probably sleeping.

It had been such a long day. He was up before 5 and didn’t clock out until nearly 8. They’d been working on a difficult case that left the team feeling torn. A little boy disappeared in the night, kidnapped by his nanny. Once they found him, it sadly appeared that the boy would’ve been better off with his kidnapper than his irresponsible parents. As everyone left, he noticed something was up with Rollins. When probed, she said that the case had gotten to her. She was having doubts about whether she was a good enough mother and if she could take care of her kids alone. So, he offered to give her a ride and cook dinner for them. How could she say no to that?

He thought Rollins was a great partner and admired her. When he first joined, he even had a crush on her. However, she made it clear she was not interested. He had since moved on from those feelings. He still cared about her, but in a brotherly way. She didn’t come from a tight-knit family like him. His Italian genes wouldn’t let him sit back and not help when he saw her struggle. That was Sonny’s job: helping people and fixing things.

After herding the girls into bed and making sure Rollins ate, he made his way home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he drove. God, was he tired. Not just from today. They’d been understaffed for months, so he’d been picking up extra shifts. Between the mandatory overtime, dealing with his sisters, and trying to support Rollins, he felt like he didn’t have much left to give. The only thing keeping him going was you. He couldn’t wait to lay in bed and cuddle up beside you. Somehow you made all the bad things in the world right. You didn’t even have to do anything. Your presence was enough to chase away the demons that haunted him.

He quietly closed the front door to not wake you. He heard rustling coming from the bedroom. Looking down the hall, he saw light peering from the ajar door. You must’ve been awake. He was delighted he would have a few minutes to chat with you before falling asleep. Walking down the hallway, he noticed a small pile of red fabric on the floor. Confused but too tired to care, he walked past it to the bedroom. Opening the door, he saw you rummaging through the closet.

“Hey, doll, glad you’re still up,” he mumbled. He then noticed the half-filled duffel bag in the middle of the room. “What’s with the bag? Going on a trip?” He asked with a chuckle.

You hesitated for a second before turning to face him. His stomach immediately dropped when he saw your eyes were rimmed with red, and mascara was streaking down your cheeks. It was clear you’d been crying.

“Oh, my god, what happened?” He quickly approached you to check if you were alright.

You dodged his advance and returned to packing, leaving Sonny puzzled. He paused to take stock of the situation in front of him. He didn’t see any blood or bruises, so you probably weren’t hurt. You were obviously upset about something. Was it because he came home late? And why were you packing a bag at this hour…

It finally clicked what was happening and alarm bells went off in his head.

“Hey, slow down!” He started taking things out of your bag. “Look, I’m sorry I was home late. Rollins—she was having a hard time, and I was trying to help—”

Without acknowledging him, you picked the bag off the floor and moved it to the bed, out of his reach. You didn’t want to hear excuses, nor did you want to hear about that woman. The air in the room felt painfully thick, making it hard to breathe. You wanted to get out of there, to clear your mind.

Sonny’s confusion spiraled into irritation. He was practically dead on his feet. The last thing he wanted was to deal with you having some kind of tantrum. “Come on, doll, aren’t you being a bit dramatic here?”

You finally stopped and stared him straight in the eye. “Well,” your voice was deceptively calm, “getting stood up by your boyfriend can have that effect on you.”

“Stood up? What’re you talking—”

Date night. Shit. The reservations. Oh SHIT. The red dress in the hallway…

His eyes went big, and his heart hit the floor. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

You felt tears starting to well up again. You bit your lower lip and went back to packing.

Sonny just stood there, rubbing the back of his neck. His first instinct was to go and touch you, but he knew better than to do that right now. He just wanted to hold you. To make all this go away. He hated seeing you cry, and knowing he was the reason? He wanted to puke. If he could just get you to listen, he could fix this.

“What’re doing? Doll, please stop,” he frantically asked.

“I’m going to my friend’s place.” You didn’t even look up. “I’m tired of being an afterthought, Sonny. I need some time to think.”

“Think about what? Sweetheart, please just talk to me.” He was grasping at straws trying to get you stop. “I-I’m sorry, just—I can fix this—will you please just stop for a second—"

But you weren’t stopping, and he was getting frustrated. Why wouldn’t you just talk to him?

“So that’s it then. You’re solving this by walking out on me?” He accused with venom in his voice. “If I hadn’t come home just now, you wouldn’t even be here!” His arms started flailing and his voice got louder and louder with each word. “Is that all this relationship meant to you? That you’d just pick up and leave after a mistake? No discussion, no talking, NOTHING?!”

His shouting startled you, making you stop dead in your tracks. You clench your eyes shut and your hands begin to tremble.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He immediately softened his tone and held his hands in front of him, trying to look less intimidating. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He regretted raising his voice as soon as the words left his lips. He didn’t mind getting loud and angry at a perp, but he always tried to leave “Detective Carisi” at the precinct. Home was sacred, where he could be soft and gentle. With you, he was just “Sonny” or your “sunshine.” He hoped he still could be.

“Listen to me, please,” he begged. “You’ve got every right to be mad at me. I screwed up, big time, and I couldn’t be more sorry about that.” You looked at him, still shaken, with tears rolling down your cheeks. He realized there was nothing he could do to fix this tonight. It was too much. “Look, it’s late. You’re tired, I’m tired—let’s sleep on this,” he proposed. “I understand you need some space, so I’ll sleep on the couch. The room is all yours. Just…please don’t go.”

You were on the brink of losing control, too overwhelmed by everything. You couldn’t stay. You shook your head. “I have spent too many nights alone in this bedroom, Sonny. I-I need to go.”

That shattered him.

“Okay, I hear you.” He was trying to figure out how to salvage this. “Just for tonight. You’ll come back tomorrow, and we’ll work this out.”

Your phone pinged from where it sat on the dresser. “My ride’s here, I’ve gotta go.”

“You’re coming back tomorrow, okay?” He pleaded. But you walked right past him. “Will you please text me when you get there so I know you’re safe?”

The closing of the front door echoed throughout the now silent apartment. Sonny stood there dumbfounded. He looked at the chaos of half-opened drawers and things thrown about. Something caught his eye in the corner of the room. His gray Fordham hoodie.

It was your favorite and you had claimed it as your own. It was left folded on the chair. You didn’t take it with you. He picked it up and stared at it. You wore it practically every day because it smelled like him and comforted you, and you didn’t take it with you. Somehow this hurt more than anything else that night. He wadded the ratty sweater up and hurled it across the room.

#oh god she writes now #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu

97 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 11 months ago

Text

Rudolph, The Red Nose Reindeer

Son Heung-Min x Fem!Reader

Warnings: sonny is a hyper golden retriever boyfriend (no shocker there), first trips to the winter fair, meeting reindeers, sooo many pics, both sonny and the reindeers are excited to meet each other, all around sweetness.

Word Count: 559

Author's Note: first time writing for sonny! hopefully it's okay besties lol - idk why there aren't more fics for him! he's a sweetheart.

The winter fair was in town and Sonny decides that you two should go pay the reindeers a visit, because that’s what Santa would want.

It wasn't unusual for your boyfriend to come running at you as if you were a player for the opposing team, Sonny making a B line for you and jumping right on top of you.

Over the years, you've learnt to brace yourself for him.

"Hi honey" you brush his hair out of his face, smiling at him as he gets comfortable with his head on your lap.

"Hi," he grinned, phone in his head. "Do you have plans?"

"For today?"

"Yeah," he nods, "I don't have training sooooo, I was thinking we could go out."

You shrugged, "had to go grocery shopping but I can do it tomorrow. What did you have in mind?"

His eyes light up. "The winter fair is in town!" You smile at his childlike excitement, "I know."

"Can we go? I want to go see the reindeers." He tells you and your brows furrow, it seems that Sonny sensed your confusion and continued speaking, giving you some clarification. "You know, reindeers, the things that pull Santa's sleigh."

You laughed, "I know what they are, baby. You wanna go see them?"

"Yeah, it's what Santa would want." He gets up, pulling you off the couch. "If you insist and if Santa insists, who am I to say no?" You smiled, letting him pull you to the front door.

It took you two a few minutes to gather yourselves, bundling up for London's cold weather before you two made the drive to the fair. It takes Sonny 2 seconds to find where the reindeers are located on the map that the man at the front gate was passing out. Your boyfriend grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd to the reindeers.

His long legs made it easier for him to navigate but you were practically running to keep up with him.

The woman running the booth hands him some carrots, telling what he could and couldn't do before Sonny starts feeding them. He's so excited to feed them, surely his face hurts from smiling.

You take a million photos of him, recording him feeding the reindeers their carrots as mom would record their child for Facebook. You smiled as one of the reindeers nuzzled into Sonny's hand, his face lighting up.

He looked over at you. "Look!" He whispers shouts, as if he thought if he spoke any louder, he'd scare the reindeer away.

After way too many carrots, the woman told Sonny that their reindeers wouldn't be able to fly if they ate anymore - an answer that was usually catered towards children. You got her hint, Sonny seemed a bit sad but nodded.

"I'll be back!" he tells the reindeers, rubbing one of them on the cheek gently. You smiled, holding his hand as you two walked off.

You took him for hot chocolate to warm and cheer him up. As you waited in line, you looked over at him. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah!" He grins, nodding. "I had never met reindeers before, I didn't even know they were real until I moved here. I thought it was only for tv."

"Well they seemed very excited to meet you too," you tell him, "maybe they're Spurs fans."

Sonny laughs, "they're in the right place then."

You smile, your arm linking with your boyfriend's, reaching up to give him a kiss.

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #son heung min #son heung min x reader #son heung min x you #son heung min x y/n #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football blurb

124 notes · View notes

lazyneonrabbitt · 4 months ago

Text

Sonny boy

Funny Sonny x male reader

You're one of the new guys becoming a member of the Vandals, amd quickly become friends with Sonny.

🚬 🚬 🚬

It had been a week since you had gotten the official yes to join the Vandals. You had shown up at the picnic you caught wind of and disn't waste any time to work for those colors. During the picnic you became friendly with most of the members there, as well as their other new friend Sonny. You learned he had been a friend of the club for a while now, hanging out with them but never changing his colors.

There was a party going on tonight, everyone joined in a ratty home. Beers flowing and pot smoking, campfires that were clearly illegal outside too.

Illegal or now, around said campfire is where you found yourself. Chatting with Sonny who had found you after he had made his rounds inside, and some others who joined and only bragged about the woman they got to bone for their initiation.

"That's all they can talk about. Beer and girls.." A huffed laugh was all you had in you to add, taking a swig from your beer.

"Why dontcha go have your turn? Is your party too." The way Sonny asked it wasn't pressuring, but more of a wonder why. All the others had swarmed inside to go stick their dick in something, but you hadn't.

"Not my type," 'not into girls' was what you wanted to say, but that could lead to problems you didn't want to think about at all. "Besides, not a fan of sharing someone who's been used by god knows how many drunken bikers."

Sonny let out a laugh, a genuine one that warmed you on the inside, as oposed to the fire only warming your knees and the beers you took. "Yeah I get that. Don't wanna end up with yer dick itchin' like hell. Makes riding a hassle."

This time it was your turn to laugh, imagining those guys swerving and barely being abble to ride in a straight line because they're too busy scratching their junk.

Sonny enjoyed listening to you laugh, and decided to make an effort of keeping up the jokes so he could keep enjoying the sounds.

You spent all your time around the fire, rotating whoever joined you for a short while before moving on again. Except you and Sonny, who kept watch over the fire until it was nothing but simmering embers.

"Think I'm heading home for the night. Don't feel like carrying drunks to whoever's couch is closest." You made an effort to get up and put the empty bottles somewhere easy to clean up, Sonny follwing you and heading back inside to do his rounds of goodbyes before heading out too. It was time to head out.

Walking back outside the first thing he noticed was you, pacing by your bike with a hand in your hair.

"For fuck's sake.." There was no way you were going to be able to go home with your bike like this.

"Hey, 'sup? Thought ya were going home." Sonny's voice made you stop your pacing and let out a frustrated groan. As Sonny walked up to you your rant began, angry with whoever took your bike parts and made sure you weren't getting home if you didn't get it fixed.

Normally Sonny would be all for these kind of initiation jokes, but he wasn't feeling it tonight. "Must have been 'cus you didn't bone the lady." He gave you a pat on the shoulder, squeezing it and pulling you along with him. "You good leaving your bike here? I got a motel room closeby, we'll get parts and fix it tomorrow first thing."

You gave his option a thought. His motel was the closest, and asking him to give you a ride home and then go all the way back would take him ages. Plus, he'd have to come get you tomorrow morning anyways to go get your bike fixed.

"If you're sure it won't be a problem." You wanted to jump up and say yes immediately, but you were affraid the enthousiasm might scare him off.

"Come on, roll it to the side over there." Sonny never got less handsy, moving you beside your bike so you could roll it to a more secure place.

Even back at his bike when he got on, his hand found your thigh to stabilize you as you took your seat behind him. "Hold on tight, you know how it goes."

With your hands on him his hands found yours to reposition them before riding off to the motel.

Once you made it inside it was unclear how you were going to be staying here overnight with just one flimsy bed.

Sonny saw you stare and could see the gears turning in your head, quickly moving to reassure you it was fine. He made his way over to the couch that until now had been undiscovered because of the amount of stuff that covered it.

"No way. I'm not letting you sleep on the couch just because I'm here. I'll take it." In your eyes Sonny was already doing a lot for you by taking you here and now he was offering you his bed? In any other way you would have accepted his offer and made the comment of sharing it, but you'd better keep that quiet for now.

Sonny had swiftly gone to clean up the couch and drape himself over it, tossing his jacket aside and stripping down to just his pants and a simple shirt to sleep in, laying down with a satisfied smile.

You didn't have anything on you, so you were sleeping in the shirt you had been wearing all day and probably reeked of beer thanks to the drunkards inside the house, but you were so nose-blind right now you couldn't tell.

Taking off your layers in front of Sonny was a little awkward, but exciting too. You kept your back turned to him, placing your clothes next to the bed before getting under the blanket so you didn't catch Sonny staring at all.

You both slept fine that night and you woke up to Sonny coming back into the room and patting you on the arm to get your attention.

"Morning, got breakfast from across the street. Guessed what you'd like so I hope it's good." Sonny somehow felt bad for you, with your bike taken apart for the initiation bullshit, even while back home he was one of the guys who'd be pulling that shit to the newbies all the time. Why was this different?

"Oh shit, thanks man." You followed Sonny's movements and got your ass out of bed, getting dressed and joining him on the couch for breakfast.

Sonny offered you a cup of black coffee and a bunch of cream and sugar to add to your liking and let you have first pick of the foods he brought. Fuck, why was he so goddamn kind? You were already weak to his charms, but him having to be the absolute sweetest guy too had you almost on your knees.

You shared breakfast in comfortable silence before making your way to Sonny's bike where he had another cigarette while you talked over the plan for your bike.

You headed over to the club to find the parts you were missing and quickly found every piece taken off your bike set aside with the needed tools to place them back.

At least the ones who took it were kind enough to put it up for grabs.

The ride back to the old house was a nice one. A great view and an amazing bikerider to hold on to.

Once you made it back to your bike, Sonny took all the stuff from the satchels and made his way over with you.

Now, you were no mechanic. You knew your basics but were still learning, and Sonny caught onto that quickly. "Lemme show you how to fix this."

The two of you sat down shoulder to shoulder as Sonny talked throigh the steps while he worked, handing you tools and parts to put back yourself as well. Pretty quickly your bike was back to its former glory again, running perfectly.

"Thanks, man. I don't know what to do to repay you. You've been so kind." You didn't know what to do or how to act, you were so happy it was fixed now.

"Neh, you're good. It's what we do, right? Help eachother out." Without a second thought you had lunged forward and grabbed Sonny in a hug, moving without thinking and kissing his cheek in thanks.

Panic set in the second you realized what you did, praying he'd shrug it off as thanks. Meanwhile Sonny's mind ran a mkllion miles a minute, not a bike in the world that was able to keep up with his racing thoughts. Was this why he was so bothered by thr initiation? Why je was suddenly so helpful? When he pulled apart there was a glimpse of looking each other in the eyes, but before you had a chance to register what went through his he had pulled you back in by the back of your head and latched his lips onto yours in a clumsy kiss.

🚬 🚬 🚬

A/N: Writing a male reader again after a while. I hope it comes across properly!!

#sometimes I write #the bikeriders #funny sonny #funny sonny x reader #x male reader

43 notes · View notes

sinofwriting · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Nothing - Clay Spenser

Words: 4,912

Note(s): This is a long one that I honestly did not want to end. Also this is x reader but she goes by the nickname Mira. And anything in italics unless stated otherwise is them speaking Urdu. (Oh, and title is of course from a Taylor Swift song)

Tagging @nerdyreaderpapi who said they were really excited for this. Hope they and everyone else enjoys this.

Summary: Clay has a wife and no one believes him. He’s been a part of Bravo for eight months, the wife excuse is getting old, got old after the first month and yet he sticks to it, despite the fact that they never met her, don’t know her name, or seen a single picture of her.

Turning his phone on, a tired smile crosses his lips at the sight of his lockscreen and he can’t help the way his thumb caresses the screen as he mouths the words on it that he knows by heart, a yawn leaving him in the middle as he adjusts to being awake.

The always there ache in his heart, grows now that they’re so close to being home. And he has to resist rubbing at his chest. He didn’t need to catch Trent’s attention, the medic was like a mother hen to all of the team, but especially him since he was the youngest.

Unlocking his phone, he goes to his texts and scrolls through his missed texts, body relaxing into his hammock as he looks at the texts from his wife. Some just random tidbits of things she had to translate, or things she had to buy that they ran out of, things she made for dinner, how she forgot to pick her meds up but not to worry because she did end up getting them, just a week later than she should’ve and he can ignore the email from the pharmacy about it, and that yes Clay she knows she hopeless without him and she’s more than okay without.

He lets out a chuckle at one of her texts telling him that she wants a dog and he needs to stop dragging his feet about it.

“It’s been nearly a year, husband. The longer we go without any paws running about, the more I’ll want.”

He lifts his eyes from his phone, letting them drift around until they land on Brock who’s also laying in his hammock, though he’s more upright, Cerberus in between his legs.

“Hey, Brock.” “Hmm?” Clay doesn’t notice that the rest of the team have also turned their attention to Clay. It wasn’t often that the kid was talkative after missions, especially one like this one. “I’ve been meaning to get a dog, anything I should keep in mind with Cerb?” The dog lifts its head at his name, tail wagging as he looks at Clay. Brock runs a hand over the dog's head. “I’d say once they settle in, we introduce them, just in case.” “What kind of dog you getting?” Clay shrugs, “not too sure yet. It’ll be a puppy, that’s for sure.” His wife would have his head if they’re first pet together wasn’t a puppy. “Puppy? That’s a lot for our job.” “Yeah, who’s getting to watch it when we get spun out or are on deployment?” “My wife, who absolutely exists.” He throws up a middle finger at Sonny, already knowing what comment was going to leave the Texan’s mouth. He makes a noise and half hearted denial, but doesn’t say anything, jaw twitching as Clay tries to press that he had a wife on them again.

“She going to pick you up?” Clay’s eyebrow raises, and he pockets his phone as he feels a shift in the altitude. They’d be landing within the next thirty minutes. “I drove myself. So, no.” Ray makes a noise at that and he has to resist the urge to snap at him or one of the other guys who was staring at him.

“Join us for beers tomorrow?” Sonny asks, as they all step out and start heading to their cars. “We just spent nearly two weeks together, next time absolutely.” Sonny grunts. “Fine, but just remember what you're missing out on, GQ. I could get you a great girl.” “Married.” He shouts, as he rushes to his car. The door shuts before he can hear Sonny’s reply and with it comes a sigh of relief.

The drive home passes quickly and before he knows it, he’s in the driveway of his house. His wife’s car parked in its spot and the porch light on, with its automatic timer set to turn on at eighteen hundred and shut off at four hundred.

Clay feels the ache in his chest grow, being so close and yet still so far away. So, he doesn’t bother grabbing his go bag, even though everything needs to be washed, he just climbs out of the car, barely remembering to lock it and running up the steps to the front door.

Opening the door, he quickly steps into the house, kicking off his boots as he closes the door behind him.

“Baby?” He calls, anxiety and excitement warring inside of him. “Mira?” He uses the name that her parents started calling after learning that he and her grandmother had taken to calling her Miracle in Urdu. “I’m home.” He hears the sound of feet rounding the corner before a cry of his name greets him and he’s got an armful of his wife.

He holds her tight, lifting her off her feet, his hands moving down to her bottom to hold it as her legs wrap themselves around his waist.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He whispers into the skin of her neck, tears pricking at his eyes, as he takes in the feeling of home, the smell of it, of her. “Missed you too.” Her arms loosen from around his shoulders and she pulls back slightly, looking into his eyes as her hands come up to his face. She sighs, thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. “You got even more handsome. I think you can’t, then you leave me and somehow it happens.”

His cheeks turn pink at the compliment, the one she always gives him when he comes home to her. At one point he had denied it, thought she was just saying it, that she didn’t mean it, but with over a decade together, he knew that she meant it. It was clear in her face, the way her eyes were lit up in awe and they couldn’t stop looking at him. Clear in her body, how her breath still sped up, heart hammering in her chest.

Emotion bubbles up in him, how overwhelmingly he is in love with this woman and has been since they met, since he was fifteen. And he knows that if he speaks right now, he’ll stumble over his words, so instead he presses their lips together.

And the ache that had been plaguing him vanishes at the contact. At the soft lips pressed to his. Her hands slip from his face to his neck, her right pointer finger tracing the shell of his ear making him tighten his grip on her and press his tongue to the seam of her lips, gently touching them, before retreating. Even with the sigh into his mouth.

“Do you have anything cooking?” “No.” She breathes, “take me to bed, soldier.” He grins at the command, pressing their lips together, once than twice before starting the trip to their bedroom. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

“Stop looking at me like that.” She murmurs, eyes scanning the menu. “How am I looking at you?” She lifts her eyes off the menu, her husbands grinning face staring at her. “Like you won the lottery.” His grin grows wider, eyes alight with amusement. “Everyday with you is like winning the lottery, miracle.” She has to look away for a moment, lips pressing together to suppress a giggle. Fuck, her husband was a charmer.

Her eyes drift back towards the menu. Despite having dinner two hours earlier, she was hungry again, but not hungry enough to eat something all by herself, so it was a good thing she had Clay with her. She swore sometimes he had more than one stomach on him with the way he ate.

“Want to share a chicken strip basket with me?” “Sure. You want a beer?” He asks, looking out for a waitress. “Please, just whatever you get.”

Resting her chin on her hand, she watches as he orders for them. Seamlessly keeping the waitress's attention off her.

“It ran over. Complications?” She asks when the waitress leaves, curiosity pulling at her. He nods, “Intel was bad. HAVOC nearly blew a gasket.” “But, no injuries.” “No injuries.” The whole team had basically been glorified bodyguards for two weeks. “It was a milk run that went long. Only reason we were there for so long was because of the intel and having to get new contacts.” She hums, switching back to english. “This place seems nice.” She takes a glance around. “Only opened up a month or so ago. Kids aren’t allowed after eight.” “Yes, sir.” The waitress says, setting down two beers in front of them. “And the last family we had just left. So just a warning the music will be going up and our cook is only here until ten.” “Thank you.” She smiles at the waitress. “Of course. Let me know if you need a refill and your food should be out shortly.”

“She’s nice.” “Hasn’t worked long enough in food service.” Her eyes roll. “Says the man who's never worked in food service.” “But you did. Worst six months of our marriage.” Her mouth falls open, “you were deployed for all of it.” He shrugs, “you were miserable working at the place. Me not being there just made that worse.” “Such a softy.” Clay smiles, tangling their fingers together on top of the table. “Only for you, my miracle.”

They're halfway through their beers when the music gets turned up and their basket of chicken strips arrive. Grabbing one, she hisses at how hot it is immediately dropping it back down. She shakes her hand out, rubbing the pads of fingers together.

“Cut it?” “Please.” He doesn’t say anything, sending her a fond look before grabbing the fork and knife that had been resting on the table and cutting the chicken up.

Nearly an hour later and on her third beer and last one, since Clay was also stopping at three since he was driving, the door opening to the bar and raucous noise catches her attention.

Turning her head, she eyes the group of six men and two women, military she noted by some of their stances and they way all the men seemed to be surveying the building. It’s then that her eyes focus on their faces and her eyes widen, recognizing some of them.

“Clay,” she kicks his shin lightly. She hears his sharp intake of breath and she blindly reaches for his hand, squeezing it tight. Her heart thuds painfully in her chest when he grasps it tight, clinging to it. “Do you want to leave?” “No.” “Are you sure?” “It's your choice.” She takes her eyes off his team, going to protest, but he stops her. “No, it’s your choice. I know you don’t particularly like them.” His face twists at that, because that was a light way of putting it.

His wife nearly despised them for judging him just because he had the last name Spenser. Add on Sonny’s treatment those first few missions and how Jason treated him after that first time he worked with Bravo. He was surprised that she hadn’t stormed onto base using her clearance to give the Master Chief a piece of her mind. It wouldn’t shock him if them meeting eventually resulted in that happening. She wasn’t one to hold back, not when it concerned him.

She eyes her husband, remembering how he had come home practically collapsing in her arms because of Bravo, because he had the last name Spenser and more stupid military men weren’t willing to not judge a book by its cover. Remembering their refusal to believe that he was married, all because he won’t introduce them or talk about her, because he was a kid, despite being twenty-seven. But she also remembers the light in his eyes as he talks about Cerb, Trent’s mother henning, Ray’s quiet accompaniment to the range. He’s been with them for nearly a year and she knows that they’ve become like family to them, so close to being brothers in not just name but also bond. And she knows that the only thing that is stopping him from letting them in and really see who he is behind that cocky façade is her. And she can’t deny him family, more people to love him, so she squeezes his hand again.

“Let’s stay.” “Really?” She nods. “They’re your brothers, honey. I can’t deny you people that love you, just because of my misgivings.” He looks at her in awe, blue eyes shining. “I don’t deserve you, not one bit.” He sounds reverent and before she can deny it, protest, he’s leaning across the table, crushing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

A loud whistle breaks them apart and he’s still looking at her in absolute awe. “You, Mrs. Spenser, are going to be spoiled so much later.” She swallows harshly, thighs pressing together at the promise. “And I can’t wait, husband.” His eyes flash but the sound of a chair being pulled out stops him from kissing her again.

“I’m going to take these up and get something else to drink. You want anything?” She asks, grabbing their beer bottles. “Water, please.” She nods, flashing him a smile before standing and heading to the bar, a slight limp in her gait.

He watches her, heat simmering inside of him.

Clay looks away when someone sits across from him, knocking their feet together,

“Would ya look at that, GQ. Said you didn’t want to come out drinking with us and we still ended up at the same place.” The Texan accent makes him sigh. “Sonny. First stop of the night?” “Yeah, even managed to get Blackburn to join us.” Clay spots the rest of the group in the corner where there’s pool tables, brows going up seeing Naima standing next to Lisa. He had forgotten that her parents were in town this week. “Naima eat?” “You think Ray would’ve let her out of the house to drink without food in her stomach?” “I don’t think Ray tells her to do anything.” Sonny laughs, “right you are, brother. Last time Ray tried to tell her to do something,” he whistles. “I don’t think I’ve seen a man regret something so much.” He chuckles, he hadn’t been part of the team for that but he could imagine it. “Lisa text you, we were coming here? Decide to join us anyways?” “No, I actually,” he begins before he can continue, two glasses are being put on the table and a familiar weight is settling on his leg that’s planted outside the booth.

“Next time we should Uber, they’ve got some interesting cocktails.” She tells him, before turning her head to look at the stunned Seal sitting across from them. “Hi, I hope I wasn’t interrupting.” Clay has to press his face against her back to hide his smile. She knew damn well what she was doing and he couldn’t love her more for it. “No, ma’am. You known Clay long?” His eyes flicker between the two. She lets out a laugh, just a little off from her normal one. “Long enough.” He squeezes her waist and she relaxes a little back into him. “Well, my name's Sonny Quinn, I work with Clay since he ain’t got the manners to introduce us.” She extends her hand, giving the Texan’s a quick shake before giving her name and they both watch as his jaw drops and his eyes widen. “But please, call me Mira. Everyone does.”

“Spenser?” He repeats, barely hearing her request. “Yes, sir. And proud.” She lifts her left hand and gives it a small shake where both his grandmother’s wedding band sits and her grandmother's wedding ring. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you” He manages to say after a few seconds. “Mira, I don’t think you’ve met the rest of the team, but if you’d like you could join us. We're just playing some pool and drinking.”

“Join?” The french makes him blink, but he nods. “Sure.” “We’d love to.” He blinks at the language change, but nods, standing. “Alright, then. Can I get you anything to drink?” His eyes flicker to Clay, expecting to see some sort of scowl on the younger man’s face at his offer but the kid just looks amused and tension he didn’t know he was holding, vanishes. “I’m alright. I just got us some water.” She tells him, standing, grabbing one of the waters from the table.

Nodding, he watches as Clay also stands, doing the same as her, his arm looping around his wife’s waist, lips brushing her temple. They make an interesting picture, a pretty one. Cause of course Clay would have a wife even prettier than he was.

Leading them over to the corner that Bravo had commandeered, Jason spots them first, smiling at him, before a brief look of concern takes over at his wide eyes. And a quick nudge to Ray’s ribs from Jason gets everyone else's attention.

“Ladies,” he nods to Lisa and Naima, “gents. Look who I ran into?” He steps aside letting them more easily see Clay, who’s setting their waters down on a high table they took over. “Hey!” A few say at the time, catching other people's attention for a moment. “What are you doing here?” Lisa asks, smiling at the youngest member of Bravo. He tilts his head to the left, gesturing, “date night. Went to dinner then ended up here. Would’ve gone somewhere else if I knew who we’d run into.” He grins, catching the elbow his wife starts to throw before it can make contact. “You love us.” She teases and Clay rolls his eyes but the soft line of his shoulders and grin betrays him. “And who is this?” She looks at the woman next to Clay offering her smile. She smiles at the woman who Clay talks about fondly, always having their back in HAVOC, “I’m Mira, Clay’s wife.” Her smile doesn’t flicker at the sharp intakes of breaths her introduction causes. “You must be Lisa, Clay talks about you often. He talks about all of you often.” She looks at the rest of them. Naima hits Ray’s chest. “I had no idea that Clay was married.”

She quickly shakes the younger girl's hand. “I’m Naima, Ray’s wife. If Ray had something sooner, we could have set up something sooner. All of us wives and girlfriends have a groupchat. I know how difficult it can be.” “Thank you. We’ll have to exchange numbers. You have two kids right? Jameelah and RJ?” “We do.” Her smile widens at Mira remembering her kids names just from hearing Clay talk about them. “Clay mentioned them. He’s never been uncle Clay before. Came home all lit up.” He nudges her slightly. “They meet you and you’ll be Auntie.” “Damn straight, I married you for the benefits, honey.” “And my body.” He grins down at her, holding her tighter against him. She pats his chest. “And your body.”

Naima awes a bit at the young couple. She remembered when her and Ray were first together, they had also been stuck together at the hip. Now with being together for so long and two kids, there wasn’t a lot of being stuck at the hip.

“How long have you two been together? Or married?” She asks, curious. They seemed like newlyweds, just a couple of months under their belt, still firmly in the honeymoon phase. “Been together for twelve years, married for eight.” Clay tells everyone, a proud look in his eyes. “Seven, honey. We got engaged eight years ago.” She corrects, watching the shocked faces of his team. He scowls at the reminder of the near year of waiting he had before they finally could get married. “Worst year of my life.” “It wasn’t even a year!” “It was nearly a year.”

“Now, why do I feel like there’s a story there?” One of the guys says, recovering first. “Trent,” he offers his name, just in case. “That would be because there is.” She pats Clay’s hand. “Clay and I got together when we were fifteen, but there’s nearly a year between us. So, Clay turns eighteen, proposes, is already to go to the courthouse and be married and I had to remind him that we had to wait a good eight months to get married since I was still seventeen.”

“The wait was horrible.” He groans. Mira laughs, “what wait? The only thing that changed was my last name and us getting a piece of paper. Nothing else changed.” “Sex.” Sonny chokes on his beer. “We had sex before.” Lisa lets out a laugh at the exasperated look on her face, she already liked this girl. “Yeah, but it wasn’t married sex.” “Oh my god.” She rolls her eyes, not needing to look at him to know he was grinning, chest puffed out a bit.

She looks at the other women in the group, “Please save me from him.” Naima laughs at the girl, but steps over to the booth where Brock is sitting and motions for her to join. “Sit with me and Brock. I want to know all about you.”

She feels Clay squeeze her hip and brush his lips across her temple before letting her go. She sends him a smile before joining the older woman at the booth, sliding in on the same side that Naima’s sitting on.

“Nice to meet you, Brock.” She greets the man. “You too.”

Clay watches as Naima and Mira start to talk, Brock paying rapid attention if the way his body language is anything to go by.

“So, Bam Bam does have a wife.” He scowls at the Texan, “Told you I did.” “Still. Can see why you kept her away. She’s so far out of your league.” Sonny laughs, sending Clay a wink as he dodges an elbow from Lisa. He looks back at Mira, who’s laughing. “Damn right.”

He felt lucky most days that she even took a glance at him.

“Why did it take so long for us to meet her?” Jason asks. “Does she not like the job? Cause problems at home?” Clay scoffs, “god, no.” It wasn’t that they hadn’t had problems, they’d been together for over a decade they had them, but the idea of his job causing some was laughable. “She encouraged me to enlist, wouldn’t have made it as far without her. And she understands the job.” Something in his tone sets Jason on edge, “Not too much, I hope.” “Spenser,” Eric starts, realizing where Jason’s head went and it’s clear Ray did too by the way he sets his pool cue down. He sticks his chin out, shaking his head. “She’s a linguist.” He gets blank looks. “She knows as many languages as me, more. She’s been a consultant for the CIA since we were twenty. She’s got higher clearance than me.” Sonny whistles, “she’s really out of your league.” He grins at him.

“So, what was the problem?” Jason asks and god was he like a dog with a bone. He could tell there was a reason and all of them knew he wouldn’t stop until he knew why. Clay sighs, sending a look over to Mira, who sensing it, looks back at him and sends him a smile and nod. “I talk shop with her.” Jason sends him a disapproving look, but he ignores it. He liked Jason, but he wasn’t about to take relationship advice from the older man. “So, if I’ve had a bad day or something went wrong I talk about it.” “I don’t get it.” Lisa whacks the Texan on his arm, understanding why Clay hadn’t introduced her or even talked about her. He sighs, “she doesn’t like you,” he looks at Sonny. “Or you.” he looks at Jason. “What? For what reason?” Trent and Ray let out laughs at Sonny’s confusion. They could take a good guess for why she didn’t like either Sonny or Jason and they couldn’t say they blamed her. “She doesn’t have much tolerance for anyone who sees the last name Spenser and immediately assumes I’m like my father.” Jason winces at the statement and reminder of what he had first thought of Clay and how he treated him because of it. Yeah, he could see the reason for dislike. “Shit, Bam Bam. I fucked that one, huh?”

Clay smiles at the older man, “give her a year, maybe two. You’ll get off her shitlist.” “And me?” Jason asks, noticing that his eyes hadn’t drifted over to him. He winces, “that’s a bit more complicated.” Ray lets out a laugh at Jason’s face, slapping him on the back. “I told you that one of these days your big mouth and unwillingness to let things go would bite you in the ass.”

“He did not, Mira!” Naima’s scandalized voice rings out and makes them all turn their heads to look over at the booth where her, Mira, and Brock were sitting. She lets out a laugh, people’s reactions to how exactly Clay proposed never ceased to make her laugh. “He absolutely did.” Naima’s scandalized expression vanishes and her jaw locks as she ushers the younger out of the booth, turning her attention to the man they had just been talking about. “Clay Spenser!” His eyes widen at his name being said like that and he sends a look to Ray, but the 2IC just shakes his head. He was on his own with this one. “I can not believe you! Proposing like that!” She stands with her hands on her hips, lips pressed together in a frown. He relaxes at that. He knew how he proposed wasn’t normal and had pointedly not mentioned how he had to her parents or his grandparents knowing he’d got smacked upside the head. “Naima, I was eighteen.” He pleads, putting his hands up in surrender, sending a look to Mira who’s giggling. “Really, it’s funny more than anything.” “Oh, I’ve got to know this.” Sonny mutters under his breath. There would never be enough material to tease Clay with. And something from his relationship, well that was even juicer.

“How exactly did Clay propose?” Lisa asks, wondering what had the normally chill woman up in arms. “Well, honey, should I tell them or do you want to?” She asks, teasingly as she walks over to him. He wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer. “You can, miracle. Already told it once today, what’s two times?” She nods, wrapping an arm around him as well. Might as well get as comfy as she could with all the eyes on her.

“Well, you already know that Clay was very eager to get married.” “Be a fool not to.” He mutters, interrupting her which she ignores but Trent snorts hearing the mutter. “But he was really eager. My parents and his grandparents were missionaries, so they kept odd hours, were really only home to sleep and even then sometimes depending on how bad the area they were at was they sometimes would sleep there. Which meant we had a lot of time to ourselves.” The guys all grin at that, knowing exactly what that meant. “And with our luck, the week that Clay turned eighteen, they were away helping a village six hours away that experienced a horrible fire.” That earns a few frowns, but everyone is still listening intently to her.

“So, when it rolled over to midnight, I woke him up to wish him a happy eighteenth and to have birthday sex.” She earns a few laughs at how unashamed she is and she smiles at the sound. She could blame it on being a horny teenager but she still wanted to climb Clay like a tree as much if not more than when they were teens. “In the middle of said birthday sex, he just asks me to marry him. Tells me that one of the guys in the village we were in owes him a favor and we could take his truck to get married as soon as the sun was up.” “You didn’t?” Clay shrugs at the disappointed look from Jason. “I’d been thinking about it for months, it slipped out.” He defends. “It was sweet.” Mira also defends him. “Even if my response put a damper on things.” He winces at that, because yeah, he hadn’t reacted the best to hearing the word can’t right after he had proposed and then forced onto his back so she could ride him. It was one of the few times that he had stopped in the middle of sex for a reason that wasn’t cramping or someone knocking on the door. “And what was your response?”

“Can’t, just the word can’t.” She gives Clay a sorry smile. “Even in the middle of sex the logical side of my brain was working.” “Sounds like someone wasn’t doing a good job.” Sonny jokes. “Nah, I was thinking of a way to flip him on his back right before he started talking.” Sonny lets out a loud laugh at that and the way it makes Jason slightly bug eyed. “I definitely like you, Mrs. GQ.” “Can I be Mrs. Bam Bam instead?” She asks, grinning. “Rolls off the tongue better.” “You can have whatever nickname you want, Mrs. Bam Bam.” The Texan tells her, a bit more southern drawl in his voice as he gives her a wink.

#clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #seal team imagine #seal team x reader

288 notes · View notes

tropes-and-tales-archives · 1 year ago

Text

Sonny Carisi: Second Chances, Part Four

WC: 6725

TW: Idiots in love; smut (PiV, protected); 18+ only.

AN: This is part of a mini-series. The rest can be found here.

You didn’t sleep with Sonny that night. You definitely wanted to, but something made you slow down. Maybe it was his admission that he didn’t feel like he deserved to be happy. Maybe it was how he see-sawed between eagerness and hesitation. He seemed to want to be with you, and he seemed to expect you to hurt him. You wanted to make sure that when you finally slept together, he knew it was because you wanted him – not because he was some convenient rebound.

So instead of sleeping with him that night, you cuddled up against him on your couch and just talked. And you got to the bottom of some of Sonny’s hesitation – he had a lengthy history of terrible first dates.

Once he got started talking, it was hard to stop him. There was a date in the eighth grade at an arcade where the girl he came with left with another boy. There was a Yankee game in high school where the girl ghosted him after the fourth inning. There was the date in college when Sonny, trying to act like a grown-up, took a girl to a jazz club. The date was going well, he told you, until the woman let slip that she only was on a date with him to make her real boyfriend jealous.

“And then I screwed up our first date,” he said. He sounded so sad that you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his mouth before you pulled away.

“You didn’t screw it up,” you admonished him. “Besides, you ended up with a second date, so that doesn’t seem like a failure to me.”

He turned and gave you a look that reminded you of a dog in an animal shelter commercial, giant blue eyes and a pout. “But will I get a third date?”

You laughed at him. “Definitely.”

You sent him home shortly thereafter (with the leftover lasagna, after he tap-danced around asking for an extra piece to take home), and then you sat up for a while, thinking. Sonny was so selfless and sweet, and he seemed to never have much nice done for him in return. You decided to plan the third date that you promised him.

********

All you had told Sonny was to dress casually. “Not date-casual,” you told him. “I’m talking jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers.” He started to protest, but you cut him off. “If you aren’t dressed like a boy in middle school, I’m going to call your grandmother and tell her that you were seducing me with breakfast strudels instead of cannoli.”

On Friday night, Sonny found himself waiting in his apartment, dressed in the nicest jeans he had, the cleanest sneakers he had, and a plain t-shirt that he hoped made him look like an adult instead of like a boy. He had to do his hair twice – his usual gel-and-style did not match his attire at all, so he rinsed out all the product and left it more natural.

There was a knock on his door promptly at seven, and he opened the door to you. You were in jeans and canvas sneakers too, and a Backstreet Boys tour t-shirt. Your face was bare of makeup (that he could see), and your hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. You looked almost criminally young, especially when paired with the toothy grin you had plastered across your face.

“C’mon,” you said. You grabbed his hand and tugged him into the hallway towards the stairs. “Our ride is waiting.”

But instead of a taxi standing on the curb, there was a beat-to-hell minivan with a bemused looking older woman in the driver’s seat. You climbed into the middle seat, though, so Sonny followed suit, even though he was completely baffled.

You were silent for the ride, so Sonny held his tongue, and in short order you were dropped at a corner in the Lower East Side. The driver leaned across the passenger’s seat to call out to you, “I’ll pick you up here at eleven,” before she drove off.

“Doll, I have no idea what’s going on,” Sonny said.

You smiled and took his hand again. You tugged him down the street towards some unknown destination. “It’s a re-do,” you explained. “Your first date with a girl in the eighth grade at the arcade.”

Sonny faltered in his steps, and you stopped beside him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

You bit your lip and thought for a moment. “Well, you brought me breakfast every day and let me believe it was Nick,” you explained. “You were giving me happy memories. I thought maybe I could do the same thing. You had bad first dates, so I thought we could re-do them. I wanted to give you a happy memory.”

Sonny felt an unexpected sting of tears in his eyes that he covered up by looking down the street. He cleared his throat. “So eighth grade…”

“Eighth grade,” you agreed. You gestured down your front. “Hence the Backstreet Boys. And our driver was my neighbor. She has a mini-van, and I paid her fifty bucks to drop us off and pick us up.” You grinned at him. “Because we are thirteen and don’t have driver’s licenses.”

The tears threatened again, and Sonny didn’t bother to hide them. He thought back to his first date, and it felt both a million years ago and just yesterday. He remembered being so excited to go out with a girl – Leah – and he remembered feeling so adult to plan out an evening together.

He also remembered the humiliation when Leah left with another classmate, and the mortification when his mother picked him up later, alone.

“Doll, this is too much,” he protested weakly, but you shook your head at him.

“It’s exactly what you deserve.” You started walking, pulling on his hand, and he followed. “Cheap pizza and video games,” you added with a laugh.

Dinner was cheap pizza at a little pizzeria. You both used a ton of napkins to mop up the grease that pooled on the slices, and you skipped the special on a PBR pitcher and stuck with soft drinks (“because we’re underaged” you whispered to Sonny). Getting into the spirit of it, Sonny ordered a Mountain Dew, remembering how he was fueled by it back in middle school.

After that, you walked him across the street to a retro arcade where you paid for two all-access passes that got you unlimited plays. Sonny immediately made a beeline to Street Fighter II, and you watched him bemusedly until you found a console of Burger Time in the corner that you camped out at for a while.

Then the two of you played Gauntlet together, you shoving him lightly when he accidentally shot your with arrows. The night flew by, and before he knew it, you were glancing at your watch and telling him that “your mom” would be on her way. You both left the arcade and started walking towards the pickup point.

“Did you have fun?” you asked him, and Sonny could only throw an arm around your waist and try to tug you to him for a kiss. Which you dodged in mock-horror.

“Whoa,” you said, taking a dancing step away from him. “Were you that forward when you were thirteen, Sonny?”

He laughed at this. “Seriously?”

You batted your eyes at him. “I have a crush on Keanu Reeves, and I’m probably going to marry him when I’m older, but if you ask nice, I’ll let you kiss me.”

“Please may I kiss you?” Sonny said immediately, and you pretended to think about it before nodding.

He stepped up to you and put his hands on your shoulders, then dipped his head and captured your mouth with his. He could feel your lips curving into a smile against his mouth, so he pulled away.

“What?” he asked, but you shook your head sadly.

“Sonny, I was thirteen once, and I kissed a thirteen year old boy once. It did not go like that at all.”

Sonny pulled you back to him, dipped his head again, and as soon as his lips touched yours, he plunged his tongue straight into your mouth with zero finesse and skill. You pulled away, laughing so hard that Sonny couldn’t help but chuckle too.

“You taste like Mountain Dew,” you said between peals of laughter. “But that felt about right.”

Your neighbor picked you both up a minute later, and when the mini-van stopped at Sonny’s place, you stayed in the vehicle.

“I’d come up with you,” you said apologetically. “But I have an algebra test tomorrow.”

He could only wave goodbye as the automatic door slid shut, but when he went into his building, he took the steps to the second floor two at a time with a lightness in his steps.

-----

You planned the next date too, and Sonny found himself at Yankee Stadium on a Saturday afternoon as they faced off against the Orioles. You looked like the girl next door again, in short jean shorts and those canvas sneakers. Your t-shirt looked like a Yankees shirt, but when he looked closer, it just said “Local Sports Team” on it, making him smile.

You took the B train to the stadium and settled into a pair of nosebleed seats. You shrugged at Sonny and explained that you didn’t have a lot of money to spend from your baby-sitting job, but you had enough for a few hot dogs and sodas.

Sonny placed an arm over the back of your seat, and you obviously felt that was high-school appropriate because you didn’t fight him on it. It was hot and humid, but a nice breeze came through often enough to keep it from being miserable. And Sonny thought he’d go through any weather to spend time with you.

No woman had ever been so thoughtful with him, and it made him feel pleasantly pleased at the attention. It made him feel seen.

At the start of the fourth inning though, you stood up and left your seat, promising to come back, but you were gone the entire inning, and Sonny remembered the original date. Another humiliation, another moment where he felt like he wasn’t enough. He started to wallow, but you reappeared just then. You had a giant soft pretzel, almost as big as your head.

“Sorry I was gone so long. The line was insane,” you said. “Want to split this?”

After the game, you took the subway and then walked back to your place, and Sonny tried to think about what he would have done in high school. Raised Catholic, he probably wouldn’t have had sex even if the option had been there – he was still too guilty and felt like a disapproving god was watching him from above. Hell, he couldn’t even masturbate back then (or now, really), without feeling a flush of shame wash over him.

The two of you ended up on your couch, doing what his childhood priest would sternly call “heavy petting.” You were stretched out underneath him, one of your legs hanging off the edge of the couch, while you made out feverishly. Sonny’s hands roamed over your form, but he had to keep it over your clothes because you smacked him every time he tried to sneak his fingers under a hem. You kept your own hands on his biceps or shoulders, letting them drift between the two locations on his sweat-dampened t-shirt.

He felt like a teenager again, and he rolled his hips against you in a languid motion to relieve some of the tension below the belt. You seemed to enjoy it too, judging from the soft moans that you let slip every so often. Sonny chuckled against you. You pulled back a bit.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, and he laughed again.

“I just never thought that I’d be dry humping a girl at my age,” he replied.

You made a face. “I hate that term,” you informed him. “It sounds like something a dog would do to a couch cushion. Call it ‘outercourse,’ please.”

“I never thought I’d be outercoursing a girl at my age,” he amended, and then he leaned back down to kiss you more, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You shifted underneath him just a bit, and when Sonny felt that nearly unbearable tension again and resumed rolling his hips against you, you moaned louder. You were perfectly placed under him, and if you were both naked, he’d be inside you – the thought alone made him feel dizzy. He knew that you were holding off sleeping with him for some reason or another. He didn’t press the issue, and you didn’t elaborate your reason to him. He worried that you were still hung up on Nick, but if that were the case, why were you going to such effort for him?

But he realized with a start that you were starting to press back against his gentle thrusts, and even with the layers of clothing between you, he might be able to make you come just from the pressure and friction alone. The thought made him even harder, which he didn’t think was possible, so he rolled his hips harder and plunged his tongue into your mouth in time with his thrusts.

You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. “Sonny,” you whined, and he wasn’t sure if you were telling him to stop or to keep going.

“Is this okay?” he asked against your neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, darting his tongue out to taste the salt of your sweat.

“Sonny,” you repeated. One of your hands drifted from his shoulder across to his back, fisting his damp t-shirt in your fist. “Would you have done this in high school?” you asked as you panted underneath him.

“With you? Absolutely,” he replied. He moved against you again, drawing another moan from you. “Though I definitely wouldn’t have understood a girl having an orgasm when I was sixteen.”

You huffed out a breathless sort of laugh. “We should stop then,” you said with a groan. “Keep it authentic.”

Sonny kissed your neck again, sucking against your soft skin. “We should keep going instead,” he murmured against you. “Authentic would have been you dumping me at the game.” He pulled back and looked down at you. Your face was flushed from a day in the sun and from desire, and your lips were swollen from kissing. You looked gorgeous, and Sonny felt that too-familiar twist of love in his chest.

You surged up and kissed him gently on his cheek, then laid a hand over the side of his face too. “I didn’t have an orgasm until college, Sonny,” you said with a smile. “I didn’t even know what ‘orgasm’ meant in high school.”

“I did,” he replied with a grin, and you laughed underneath him.

“And I thought you were the good Catholic boy,” you teased. You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently off of you until you were both sitting side by side, Sonny surreptitiously trying to hide his obvious erection.

“Well, I felt guilty about it, doll. Nothing more Catholic than that.”

Sonny only stayed long enough to calm down, and then he ordered a car and left, but not before setting a date for your next get-together.

-----

Now that Sonny was onto the game you were playing with your dates, he just went ahead and told you the name of the jazz club that he went to in college in a vain attempt to impress his date. He picked you up at your apartment, and you looked like a vision in a dark blue wrap dress and heels. Your hair was down, but there was a silk flower tucked behind one ear.

The jazz club was pretty much the same, just a bit more dingy than he remembered. You each ordered old-timey cocktails and sat beside each other in a dim corner. Sonny laid his arm around your shoulders, and you cuddled up against him and placed a soft hand on his thigh.

The jazz was awful, or at least, Sonny didn’t understand it as a musical genre. There was no discernable melody that he could follow, and it sounded like when Bella was young and started piano lessons and would just bang the keys at random. You felt the same way because two drinks in, you leaned against him and whispered in his ear.

“Want to get out of here?”

“You sure, doll?” he asked.

You nodded and winced as the flautist hit a particularly piercing high note. “This music could qualify as torture under the Geneva Convention, I think.”

You both ended up at his place, making out in a way that felt familiar now. When Sonny tried to progress to another plane, however, you still smacked his hands away lightly. And when he whined, needy, against you mouth, you grinned at him.

“It’s college, Sonny. I didn’t have sex until after college.”

Sonny was incredulous. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “I was terrified of sex, honestly. I always wanted to, but I’d get cold feet at the last minute because I envisioned getting pregnant or some exotic STD.” You shook your head. “Our college’s health clinic usually assumed that whatever was ailing you was an STD. I remember having strep throat once and getting a pamphlet about gonorrhea.”

Sonny wanted to ask about your first time: when and where and, most importantly, which man convinced you that he was a safe bet when other men hadn’t been. He was already jealous of this unknown guy, and he worried that it had been Nick. It couldn’t have been, though. Or could it?

You didn’t sense his roiling emotions though, and instead you just curled up against him and nodded off after a while. You’d both had a few long weeks at SVU with mandatory overtime due to being understaffed, and Sonny felt his own eyes growing heavy.

“Doll, do you want to stay the night?” he asked softly, and you stirred against him. “We don’t have to do anything other than sleep.”

You sat up. Your face was creased from being pressed against his shirt, and Sonny couldn’t resist reaching out to run his finger down it.

“Would that be okay?” you asked. “Or would it be too tempting?”

He pulled you against him and kissed your temple, breathing in the smell of your shampoo. “You’re too tempting just walking around the bullpen in your work outfits,” he murmured. “But I’ll behave.”

********

You were in the bullpen early a few morning after your jazz club date. Fin and Rollins were off duty, and Liv was at 1PP for some bureaucratic meeting. Sonny arrived about ten minutes after you, and he placed a coffee and pastry on your desk in front of you with a wink.

Dating Nick, if you could have even called it that, had felt like work a lot of the time. The guys you dated before him were much the same: tons of effort to read and manage their moods, constantly waiting and then rushing depending on what they needed. Waiting around for them to need you, rushing to get there when they did. You realized sadly that you probably had never had a healthy relationship before.

Nothing about dating Sonny felt like a chore, not even planning those dates. And if they had felt like work, it would have been worth it to see his face light up. You wondered if Sonny had ever been in a healthy relationship before.

You hoped against hope that maybe you could be that for each other.

You sipped your coffee and tried not to wolf down the cherry strudel that was still so warm that the icing had been absorbed into the flaky pastry. After you were done (and after you licked your fingers on the sly), you made your way over to Sonny’s desk and sat on the edge.

“Detective Carisi,” you said formally. “Any plans this weekend?”

He leaned back in his chair and grinned at you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling. “Maybe,” he said. “I’m kinda seeing this girl.”

“Ah.” You nodded knowingly. “Sonny mentioned that you were dating someone. How’s it going?”

He played along, but his eyes were soft. “It’s going really well,” he admitted, his voice a bit lower. “How’s it going with Sonny?”

“Also really well.”

“Look at the two of us, doing really well.”

You smiled at him for a moment, enjoying the playful conversation. “I was thinking. If you’re free on Friday, would you like to re-do our first date? Meet you at the same place, bring me another flower…”

Sonny knitted his eyebrows together. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “You’ve said at least twice that you screwed up that date, and even if I don’t agree with your definition of ‘screw up,’ I’m happy to do a do-over. You wear the same outfit, I’ll wear the same dress.” You turned and looked around the bullpen to make sure it was still empty except for the two of you. “But maybe I’ll wear something different underneath,” you murmured and raised what you hoped was a suggestive eyebrow.

Sonny groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Doll, I can’t handle anymore cold showers,” he said. “You can’t say stuff like that to me at work.”

You stood up straight and shook a finger at him in pretend remonstration, but you loved how flushed he got at the merest hint of dirty talk. “Pull yourself together, detective. And meet me on Friday, same time and same place.”

-----

True to your word, you wore the same fit-and-flare dress, dressing it down with the same white Keds. And underneath, a set of lingerie that walked the slender line between sweet and sexy, in rosy pink. You’d never admit it to Sonny because it would only embarrass him, but it matched the color he turned when he blushed.

True to his word, he turned up in the same clothes, and you each ordered the same dishes and recreated to the best of your memories your conversation. After you ate, Sonny led you outside, placing the same gentle hand on the middle of your back to lead you out. And he asked if you wanted gelato.

Since you were fixing mistakes in Sonny’s dating past, you placed your gelato order and waited. When he started to order pistachio, you placed a silencing hand on his arm and tried to stop him.

“Pistachio?” you asked in a teasing lilt. “Who orders that flavor other than old people?”

“I like it,” he replied only a little defensive.

“Sonny, I love you, but pistachio?” you asked again. “Seriously? There’s so many better options…” You gestured at the menu board with its myriad of choices.

He made a strange face at you, and you worried that your teasing had hit a sore spot, but he turned after a beat and ordered mango instead. The two of you went to the same park and sat on the swings while you ate in companionable silence, and instead of asking about Nick, Sonny just ate his gelato thoughtfully and didn’t say a word.

When you were both finished, he gave you the same line about walking him home, and you threaded your arm through his and walked the few blocks to his place. When you saw the bakery, you simply said that their pastries were amazing and thanked him again for bringing them to you nearly every morning.

And instead of asking him to drive you home, you asked him to take you to his home. And he did.

Once you were inside his apartment, he suddenly seemed nervous, fidgeting with his keys before he sat them down on a small table in his entryway. Then he ran his hands through his hair, over and over in a motion that looked nearly obsessive.

You reached out and took his hands in yours, stilling them. “Hey,” you said softly. “We don’t have to do anything.”

He gazed at you with his bright blue eyes before responding. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

He coughed a bit and his ears turned pink, and you smirked a bit to see it. “What you said at the gelato shop,” he clarified. “Did you mean it?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Well, pistachio was my grandpa’s favorite flavor…”

He cut you off with an impatient grumble in his throat. “No, the other thing you said.”

You thought back, trying to remember what you’d said. Then it hit you. “I said I love you.” You looked at him, saw the hope and the dread written plainly across his face in equal measure. “Oh, Sonny…”

“It’s okay if you don’t mean it,” he rushed in. “I mean…”

You rocked up onto your sneakered toes and kissed him, cutting off his words. When you pulled away, you smiled up at him. “I think I’ll just have to be prepared to kiss you every time I think you’re about to say something you’ll regret.” Then the smile slipped off your face and you turned serious.

You reached up with both hands and placed them on either side of his face so that he couldn’t turn away from you. “Sonny, I do love you. You’re a very easy person to love, though.” He scoffed at you, so you kissed him again, relishing the feel of his soft lips against yours.

You could have listed out all the reasons you loved him. You could have added more, but Sonny kissed you back, more urgently. It was one of the most difficult things you’d ever done – delaying intimacy with Sonny – but you wanted to make sure he was absolutely certain that he wasn’t a rebound. You broke the kiss to tell him as much.

“I want you to know that I want you for you,” you said seriously. Your hands, still on his face, shifted to the back of his head until they were tangled in his hair. “You are not just a convenient hook-up.”

“I know, doll,” he whispered back, but you still saw a shadow of doubt in his blue eyes, and you sighed.

“You don’t believe me,” you said as a statement of fact, and Sonny shook his head but you knew you were right. “I’ll have to show you then.”

You took his hand and led him to the back of his apartment until you found his bedroom. You pulled him into the room and shut the door behind him. You took his hand, still clasped in yours, and raised it to your mouth. You pressed a chaste kiss to the back of his hand, and then told him, “I love your hands, Sonny. I love the way they feel when they’re touching me.”

He narrowed his eyes at you like he was trying to figure out if you were teasing him, so you continued. You helped him remove his blazer. You reached up with slightly shaking fingers and unbuttoned his checked shirt, then pushed it off of his shoulders too. Then you untucked the hem of his undershirt, glancing up in permission and noting his slight nod. He helped you pull it over his head, and it tousled his hair even more.

“I love your heart, Sonny.” You pressed your palm over where his heart was thudding, strong and steady. “I love how much care and concern you have for the victims you work with, and I love how kind and thoughtful you are.”

You looked up and saw him blushing deeply, but he looked oddly pleased at the praise. You always guessed he had a praise-kink, and it looked like you were right.

You drew you hand over his chest, brushing against his nipples. He drew a hitching breath as you did. “I’m only so-so on your nipples,” you joked. “Average, at best.”

He let out a surprised peal of laughter, and you giggled with him. You pushed him gently towards his bed until he sat down. You pulled off his shoes and socks and examined his feet. “Feet are nice,” you told him with a grin. “I could love these.”

“They’re pretty good on the dance floor,” he replied, and you crawled on top of him until you were straddling him. His hands hesitated, then came to rest lightly on your hips.

“You going to take me dancing, Sonny?” He nodded eagerly, and you shook your head. “Make sure it’s to music with a beat. No free-form jazz.”

He laughed again. You sat up on him, holding yourself up a bit so that you were lightly settled over the bulge growing underneath you. You reached down with a hand and ghosted it over his face, drifting from feature to feature.

“I love your eyes – how blue they are and how I can read your emotions in them.” He closed his eyes as you drifted a finger over his lids, gentle as a night breeze.

“I love your cheeks and ears, and how flushed you get when you’re embarrassed or happy.” He opened his eyes again as you touched his sharp cheekbones and then tugged on the lobe of one of his ears.

“I do not,” he said, defensive.

“No?” You leaned forward a bit, bringing your face closer to his so that you could stare into his eyes. “So if I told you that I want you to fuck me senseless, nothing would happen?”

Three things happened: you felt Sonny harden even further against you, and you heard him groan as his face turned bright red. You dipped your head and kissed him gently, working your lips against him and enjoying the groans you were drawing from him.

You broke away. “I love your mouth, by the way. I love how it gets you in trouble and how it gets you out of trouble.”

“Do you prefer any particular way it gets me out of trouble?” he said, and his accent was notably thicker. You ran a finger over his pink lower lip.

“I’d love for you to surprise me, Dominick,” and you noted how his blue eyes darkened at your use of his first name.

You ran your hands through his hair, mussing it even further. “I love your hair, too. But more than that, I love what’s underneath it. I love how smart you are, how funny.”

You ground yourself on him lightly the whole while, and he bucked his hips involuntarily against you. “Anything else?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Hmm,” you pretended to think. You hoisted yourself off of him, and you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. He looked down at you through hooded lids, and you noted the hitched quality of his breathing. He raised his hips up enough for you to pull off his jeans, leaving him in only his tented boxer briefs.

“You need to catch up, doll,” he said in a strangled voice, so you kicked off your Keds and pulled your dress over your head, revealing the lingerie you’d bought for Sonny.

It had its intended effect. Sonny sat up and reached for you, placing his hands on your hips before sliding them around to cup your ass. He pulled you closer to him and buried his face against your bare stomach. You could feel his pillowy lips pressed to you, his hot breath…you drew your hand through the hair on the back of his head and tugged him away until his blue eyes were gazing up at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and coming from his mouth, it was the first time you believed it. You let him pull you into his lap, straddling him again, and he moved his mouth to the mounds of your breasts, pushed up to obscene heights by the pink lace and wire of your bra.

You scratched his scalp and pulled his hair lightly as he kissed your breasts: pressing gentle kisses along the exposed skin at the top, then kissing harder through the lace until he was sucking against first one nipple, then the other. The wet lace and the pressure from his mouth made them grow hard, and he bit them lightly, pressing the edges of his teeth against them until you moaned at the faint sting of pain. Then he soothed them with his mouth again until you moaned louder.

“Sonny,” you said. “I had a whole thing worked out, and you’re distracting me…” You bit off the last sentence with a groan as he reached up with one hand to pull the cup of your bra down. He moved his head lightning fast, and his warm mouth was on you again. His tongue worked against your nipple, and your hips ground against him.

“I thought you liked my mouth,” he mumbled, and the vibration from his words sent another shard of desire straight to your core.

“I love your mouth,” you replied. “There’s just other parts of you I still haven’t met yet.” You rolled your hips against him so that he was crystal-clear on your meaning, and he responded by swiveling you around on the bed. You scooted up until your head rested on a pillow, and he stretched himself alongside you.

He kissed your urgently, and his lips worked against your mouth until your lips were parted. He slid his tongue into you, licking against your mouth, and you pressed your own tongue against him. His hands roamed your body without clear meaning, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples before they stuttered their way down to your panties. He cupped your mound there and groaned when he felt how wet you were through the fabric.

He rubbed you through the lace, his finger slipping along your slit. “What’s this, doll?” he whispered.

“It’s all for you, Dominick,” you panted against him. Hearing his name spurred him on, and he toyed with the hem of your panties before slipping a finger underneath to resume his stroking.

You’d waited so long for him, and you were afraid you weren’t going to last very long. You could already feel an orgasm approaching.

“Please, Sonny,” you begged him. You should hate how whiny you sounded, but you were beyond care at this point. All you could focus on was Sonny – his swollen pink lips, his mussed hair, his fingers dipping into you and teasing you.

He obliged by pulling his hand away altogether, and he sat up and removed his boxer briefs. He reached into his bedside table and found a condom. You unhooked your bra and slid out of your panties while he tore open the foil and rolled the condom on himself, and you felt your mouth go dry when he turned back to you.

His blue eyes were dark with desire, and he crawled over you and lowered his weight onto you, pressing you into his mattress. He leaned down and kissed you again, full of passion, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he swallowed your moans. His cock was a heavy weight pressed against your hip, and you opened your legs to him. He broke the kiss at this and gazed down at you.

“You sure, doll? You sure you want to do this?”

You reached up and stroked his flushed face. “I’m sure I want you, Sonny. I love you.”

He groaned at this and reached down to line himself up with your entrance. “Say it again,” he pleaded, so you told him, over and over as he slid himself into you slowly. Once he was buried to the hilt, he shuddered, but then he kissed you firmly and replied, “I love you too.”

He set a languid pace, unhurried as he pulled out partway and paused before sliding back into your slippery depths. He kissed you as he fucked you gently, and you whimpered at the sensation of being filled by him in both your core and your mouth. He only broke away to catch his breath and pause in his thrusts, and you knew he was trying to make it last for both of you.

You were less patient. You’d been running in a state of perpetual horniness from all of your dates with him, and the pleasant tension in your belly was almost unbearable. You drew one leg up and wrapped it around his waist, changing the angle just a bit. Sonny didn’t get the hint – or ignored it – and continued his unhurried thrusts.

“Sonny…” you whined against his mouth. “Please.”

He huffed against you. “I don’t want this to end,” he breathed.

You laughed, a bit breathless. “Sonny, when it ends, we can always go again.”

He pretended to think about it. “Sold,” he said. He picked up the pace a bit then, thrusting into you with more force. You could feel him dragging along your entrance, delivering a delicious bit of friction to your swollen nub.

“Just like that,” you exhaled into his ear. “You feel so good, Dominick.”

He groaned at the praise and went a bit faster and harder, and you spurred him on with your words and your moans, and before you knew it, the tension in your belly snapped in an explosion of white stars behind your eyelids, and you raised off the bed to arch against him.

“Fuck, Sonny,” you wailed, and his thrusts grew irregular and hard as he chased his own orgasm and fucked you through yours. Your legs trembled underneath him, and you felt your core clenching him as waves of pleasure crashed through you. He shouted your name and came too, shuddering against you before he collapsed on top of you. He buried his head against your neck, and you felt his panting breath start to steady after a time.

He raised his head to kiss you gently, then he gazed into your eyes. “I love you,” he said solemnly, so you repeated it back to him just as serious.

Sonny pulled out then, and he disappeared for a moment to clean up and dispose of the condom. When he returned, you had already turned down the bed and was tucked into his cool sheets. He slid in beside you, and you laid your head on his chest and listened to his solid heart beating underneath you.

“You ready to go again?” you asked playfully, and he chuckled underneath you.

“It might take me a minute. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

You propped yourself up on an arm and peered down at him. “You mean to tell me that the man who drank Mountain Dew and played Rampage on one of our dates is an old man?”

“I didn’t say I was old,” he scoffed. “I just said I wasn’t young.”

“Middle aged then.”

“No….”

“Due for a midlife crisis,” you cut off.

“No, I…”

“Gonna buy a pony car, find a secretary to seduce…”

He responded with a growl, flipping you onto your back and kissing you to silence you. He worked his mouth against you until you were breathless, and you felt him hardening against your hip. He broke away and you smirked up at him.

“That didn’t take long,” you noted.

“You have that effect on me,” he replied, but he smiled down at you with a strange expression on his face, and he pushed an errant strand of hair out of your face. “You do know I love you though, right? I’m not just in this for the, uh, physical stuff.”

“The sex?” You smiled to see him blush; he would probably always be an altar boy at heart. “I know that, Sonny.” You reached down and stroked him, savoring the feel of him stiffening in your hand. “And I love you too.”

You pushed him onto his back and then crawled on top of him until you were straddling him. “Let me show you how much I love you.” And you did, that night – and every night after. Not always physically, but you always made sure you told him – and showed him – how much you loved him. And he did the same for you.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

96 notes · View notes

thechaoticplayer · 10 months ago

Note

can we get some psyborg smut? Please? -Starved Stargazer&Comfydant

PSYBORG OMG I WAS LITERALLY WATCHING THEM BEING CUTE A COUPLE DAYS AGO I GOT U MY FELLOW STARGAZER AND COMFYDANT

and looking at ship art on pinterest along with some sonnyban ❤❤

PSYBORG BULLSHIT GO-

PSYBORG SMUT FIC (CLEARLY SCUFFED AND UNPROOFREAD) Summary: Uki's a bit drunk and Fulgar tries to get his ass to bed. Ends up being more than just that... after a night of sleep of course because Fulgar as you see in Ukimama's (drunk) streams always takes care of him. Author's note: I had to do a lot of research because I haven't done a mlm smut fic in so long 😭😭 cute fluff sprinkled in bc yeah ty for requesting my first ever request wahhhh WARNING: WOAG GAY MEN HAVING SEX?! NSFW?! MINORS DNI?! Or not idgaf THERES PLOT FIRST BECAUSE UHH

"Fufu-chaaaaan," Uki whines softly, a smile playing on his lips. "Can you give me a kiss?"

"Uki, we're on stream," Fulgar laughs and elicits another drawn out sigh from the Psychic. "We're on call with the others."

"Yeah save it for later," Alban jokes light-heartedly. Sonny makes an agreeing noise.

Uki whines a bit more before going silent. The rest of them continue their conversations with one another. Little did the others know that Uki and Fulgar were actually in the same house together. They decided to meet each other IRL and was planning to do an off-collab. The two hit off right away, conversations full of laughter and affection.

"Fufu-chan, you're so cute," Uki mumbles, leaning back in his chair and his head resting on the headrest. His eyes began to flutter. "Very cute."

"Well, you're cuter Ukiki," Fulgar laughs and Uki could hear him from the other room. Uki smiles gently. "Remember to drink some water and eat some food, yeah?"

Uki murmurs a "mhm" before his eyes flutter shut. The talk of his friends became like background music to him and he began to nod off. The others haven't realized just yet until the Comfydants began asking questions.

"Hey, Uki, are you alright? I just realized when the Comfydants kept asking heavily."

"Uki?"

Startled awake upon hearing his name, Uki sits up and sits straight, rubbing his eye. He says with a drowsy and drunken tone, "Huh yeah?"

"Were you sleeping?"

"Yeah, sorry... you guys were just talking and I feel asleep. Like, background music. I think I might've dozed off for a few..."

Fulgar nods. "Uki, would you like to end your stream and just chill in mine? Or if you're really tired, you can just end stream and go rest."

"...yeah." Uki mumbles, agreeing to the first option.

"Alright, alright," Fulgar replies softly. "Whenever you feel like you need to go, I'll continue or just end stream."

The crew say their goodbyes and Uki goes to Fulgar's stream. They talk for a good half an hour, and Fulgar notices how sleepy Uki seems.

"Uki..." he starts with a chuckle. "Are you sure you don't want to sleep?"

"'M fine," Uki responds, all the while with a yawn. "I want to stay and talk to you more, Fu-chan..."

"You can later. you need to rest. I will end this stream," Fulgar threatens, but he says it with a smile on his lips.

Uki sighs heavily. "At least give me a kiss first."

"I will if you listen first."

Uki rolls his eyes with a laugh. "Fine."

Fulgar waits until Uki logs off completely. He talks to his Comfydants a bit more before finally saying his farewells. He switches off and removes his headphones. He rises to his feet and stretches for a moment.

He opens the door carefully and walks out the room. They booked a hotel together for a good couple of days. It was a nice place, and they got separate rooms. The two mostly spent their time in the living room, where they would relax with each other. Fulgar enjoyed his time with Uki; the Psychic had such a soothing prescence and never once made the Cyborg feel uncomfortable. In fact, he felt very at home with Uki. And he always made sure to let Uki know that. Uki was very dear to Fulgar, and he always wanted to make sure Uki was okay as a whole.

He steps close to Uki's door, rapping the wood with his knuckles gently. A slurred, "come in" answered and Fulgar enters. He finds the purple-haired man laying on his bed, a hand to his forehead. As Fulgar approaches him, he sees a flush to Uki's cheeks. Fulgar stands over Uki with a chuckle, Uki watching him with soft and bleary eyes.

"Now, where's my kiss, Fufu-chan?" Uki asks, letting his hand rest on his chest now.

"Yes yes, you're getting the kiss you oh-so deserved." Fulgar leans down with a playful grin, his lips brushing against Uki's forehead for a brief moment. He quickly stood back up and turned his back, his heart rate strangely increasing and a heat to his cheeks. "Well, good night Uki. Have a nice rest."

His metal hand wraps around the door knob and he was just about to open the door when the Psychic calls out quietly, "Fufu-chan."

Fulgar turns his head, cocking it to the side. "Yes?"

Uki gazes at him for a good minute, his expression blank. He whines softly, "Can you stay? just until I fall asleep?"

"...oh." Fulgar blushes a tad, smiling affectionately. He expected it, but also didn't quite expect it either. "Of course. Anything for you, babe."

Uki laughs and turns on his side to watch Fulgar places himself in the chair at Uki's desk, where Uki was previously streaming. His pretty eyes twinkle and crinkle a bit, obviously finding Fulgar endearing. It was kind of hard to connect to someone on such a level, but here he was, wanting to be with one person and that person was Fulgar Ovid.

"Would you like me to sing a lullaby?" Fulgar teases, resting a elbow on the armrest with a expressive wave of his hand.

"Thatd be nice, actually," Uki smirks, his hair falling in his face.

Another chortle from Fulgar as he opens his mouth to sing a sweet melody just for Uki Violeta.

Uki woke first, groaning softly as he turns onto his back. He lays there for awhile, eyes closed as he breathes, his slight migraine subsiding with each exhale. Uki hears another set of breaths and he opens an eye. Fulgar sat in his chair, fast asleep. Slightly leaning to the left, arms on arms rest and his legs crossed at the ankles. Fulgar's expression is peaceful and at ease, soft snores filling the air. Uki smiles at the sight, the sweet and funny Cyborg sleeping in the same room as him with such a sweet expression.

Uki rolls out of bed quietly and tiptoes to Fulgar. He stands in front of him, just observing him. His ruffled clothes, his smooth hair that covered his eyes, his jawline, his partly opened mouth. God, never has Uki wanted to kiss someone so bad before. His heart races at the thought of it, and his cheeks flame a bit.

'He wouldn't want to kiss me,' he thought to himself, leaning down so his face was level with Fulgar's. 'Although he did give me a goodnight kiss, I don't think it was anything more... but I wish it was.'

Uki brushes Fulgar's hair out his face, his fingertips trailing down to his jaw and then cupping his face with one hand. It fit perfectly in his palm he noted, rubbing gentle circles against Fulgar's cheek bone. The Cyborg makes a small sound and it takes all of Uki's will to not recoil immediately. He was afraid he had waken him up, but Fulgar just shifts, towards Uki's touch with a content exhale.

Uki's heart swells. Oh. My. God. He presses his lips together to stop a related squawk from slipping past his lips. Holy shit, this man was fucking adorable!

Uki wanted to return the kiss from last night suddenly. (Or rather, he just wanted an excuse to have contact with Fulgar's skin with his lips.) He inches closer to Fulgar's face, anxiety creeping in. The Psychic swallows hard, blushing profusely. He stayed a few good centimeters away from Fulgar's lips and was debating whether or not to go for it.

Uki inwardly sighs, deciding against kissing Fulgar because thatd be one hell of a ride if Fulgar suddenly woke up and found Uki... well. you know. Uki raises his head a few inches and presses his lips against Fulgar's forehead gently.

A hand seizes Uki's wrist, causing Uki to make a sort of strangled sound as he jerks back. A sleepy, but now awake, Fulgar narrows his eyes at Uki, who now looked like he was caught red-handed.

"Uki, what were you doing?"

"Uh... I..." Uki desperately tried to find the right words without sounding like a complete idiot. Cheeks bright red and slightly sweating. "How long were you awake?"

"The moment you woke up. I heard you groan."

'Well, fuck me,' Uki thought, cursing himself.

Fulgar studies Uki for a moment, then moves Uki's hand back to his face again. Uki stares, surprised, as Fulgar smirks. "Uki, you need to learn boundaries. However, since it's you..."

He sits up and leans close to Uki's face. "I don't mind what you do to me."

Hard. Hard as a fucking diamond.

"You don't?" Uki asks, without complaint going along with whatever was happening. He brings Fulgar's face close. "What if I decided to kiss you right now?"

The Cyborg's gaze slides away, cheeks burning. His gaze slides back and he tilts his head. "I'd let you."

So Uki went for it.

Uki's lips brush against Fulgar's own, hesitantly. He felt anxiety wracking his body because what if Fulgar suddenly realized, this isn't what he wanted? That he didn't want Uki?

Fulgar must've felt his distress because he takes Uki's face with his cold metal hands, deepening the kiss. He pulls the Pyschic into him, Uki having no choice but to sit himself in his lap. Not that Uki minded, not one bit.

Uki's other hand runs through Fulgar's hair, and Fulgar hums happily. He would have never thought Uki's lips were so soft, like he was kissing angel's wings. Fulgar suddenly wanted to taste him further, his left hand grasping the back of Uki's neck carefully as he nips at Uki's lower lip.

Uki immediately knows what Fulgar wants and opens his mouth and they make out passionately, Fulgar's tongue dancing with Uki's at a fiery pace. Uki can't help but moan into the open-mouthed kiss, pressing himself close to Fulgar.

They break away for a moment, panting. "Uki," Fulgar breathes, his hands finding refuge on Uki's hips as he rises. Uki wraps his legs around Fulgar's waist as he falls back onto his bed with Fulgar in tow.

"Yes?" Uki exhales, chest rising up and down quickly.

"I want you. So bad."

"You have me."

Fulgar dives towards Uki's neck, kissing down to his shoulder as Uki's breath hitches. He notices Uki's mole and gives it a hot kiss, making Uki shiver. Underneath the Psychic's jaw, he sucks on the skin, creating a hickey and several more on both sides of Uki's neck.

"Fu-chan," Uki says breathlessly, his arms around Fulgar's neck. He buries his face in Fulgar's neck and he can feel Fulgar's laugh reverberate through his chest.

"Getting all shy with me now, Ukiki?"

"Shut up bitch."

Fulgar, out of nowhere, hisses. He didn't realize one of Uki's arms left his neck, instead Uki's hand palming his hardened erection. He grunts, almost bucking his hips into Uki's hand.

"Look at you. So needy," Uki teases, a smirk on his puffy lips from kissing. Fulgar releases a growl, tugging on Uki's shirt.

"Off. Now," he orders.

Uki giggles, sitting up to remove his shirt. "Yours too."

Fulgar wasted no time in doing so, to crawl right back on Uki once more. He kisses Uki hard, then goes to give kisses on his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, all he way down...

Uki makes a noise right as Fulgar pauses above the obvious tent in his pants, grinning devilishly. "Where would you like me to kiss next, babe? here?"

Fulgar kisses his waist, watching Uki's heated expression. "Here?" He kisses Uki's inner thigh, but not quite where Uki needed it most.

Uki raises his hips, giving a soft whine. "Fu-chan..."

"Hm? What's wrong darling?" Uki's breath hitches. "Cat got your tongue? Youll have to speak up if you want me to give you want you want."

"I want you to... kiss me..."

"Mm?"

"Kiss me right..." Uki places his hand on his hard-on. "Here."

"Say pretty please."

"Please, Fu-chan. I need you..."

"Alright, alright." Fulgar hooks his finger into one of the hooks of Uki's sweatpants, dragging it down slowly. Uki raises his hips once more, and the pants slide down to his ankles. Fulgar, agonizingly slow, pulls down Uki's boxers and Uki's cock springs to attention, the tip an angry red. "Look how hard you are for me, how cute..."

Uki whimpers as Fulgar wraps a hand around Uki's pulsing dick, giving a few pumps as pre-cum beads on his tip. He seems to be admiring the work of art before him, and Uki squirms.

Fulgar takes the tip in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and kitten licking the pre-cum. Uki lets out a soft moan, his stomach quivering in anticipation. Fulgar chuckles at the sight, licking his cock up and down all while keeping eye contact with the man he's about to go down on.

Finally, he puts the entirety of the Psychic's cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and tongue flat against his tip. Fulgar begins to bob his head up and down, at a slow pace at first, before quickening. His tongue traces a vein that goes down Uki's shaft and Uki moans.

"Oh fuck... babe you feel so-" A louder moan interrupts what the Psychic was going to say. "Mph- so g-good... oh shit..."

Fulgar chortles, sending electricity up Uki's spine. He could feel something coiling and tightening in his lower abdomen. Holy shit, Fulgar's mouth felt like heaven! Uki couldn't help but jolt at the pleasure he was feeling, moaning between his fingers as his other hand grips Fulgar's hair. Twisting and licking and sucking... oh god.

"'M gonna cum," Uki moans. "Doing such a- mm! Great job- a-ah...!"

Fulgar moans against Uki's cock and that just about does it. Uki lets out a noise, unloading himself into Fulgar's hot mouth. Fulgar swallows greedily, licking the shaft clean as Uki shakes, breathing hard.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," Fulgar practically growls, going back up to capture Uki's mouth in another heated kiss. Uki could taste himself on Fulgar's tongue and it groans into his mouth. "Need to feel you..."

He sits back, yanking off his pants harshly and discards of the useless thing at the moment, his cock erected. Uki almost drooled at the sight, a shuddered sigh escaping his lips as he reaches over to pull the drawer beside the bed out. Uki grabs a bottle of lube as Fulgar crawls back on top of him.

"It's almost as if you knew this was going to happen," Fulgar muses.

"I'm a Psychic. Of course I'd knew this would happen," Uki purrs and it takes all of Fulgar's strength to not just shove himself inside Uki right now.

"Sneaky whore, huh?"

"Your sneaky whore, yes."

Fulgar takes the bottle of lube and squeezes the contents into his hand. He spreads Uki's legs wide, letting the lube drip down his fingers for a moment before tracing Uki's hole with it. Uki shivers at how cold it is and Fulgar laughs deeply. He continues circling a moment before sliding two fingers inside.

Uki arches off the bed a little as Fulgar pumps his fingers in and out of him, stretching Uki out. Uki pants as he does so, sweat clinging to his skin. Fulgar watches with fascination and Uki's hole swallows his fingers again and again, prepping the Psychic for what was about to happen.

"Hmm, think that's perfect, no?" Fulgar asks, and not waiting for a response, puts his tip at Uki's entrance and enters. Completely sheathing himself in Uki's warmth.

"Fuck!" Uki cries out, his arms snaking around and digging slightly into Fulgar's back.

Fulgar groans, "Oh, you're so fucking warm. Shit. You're squeezing around me..."

Fulgar sits inside Uki for a moment, letting Uki adjust to Fulgar's rather large size. After a moment, he begins to move, in and out slowly, his hands on either side of Uki's head. Uki whimpers underneath him, reveling in the feeling of Fulgar's dick inside him for so long. He could feel Fulgar's veins and his shaft pulsating in his walls.

"Faster," Uki gasps.

"Beg. Beg me to go faster," Fulgar breathes, his eyes dark with lust.

"Please please please, faster faster faster-"

Fulgar's hips snap forward and a noise escapes Uki's mouth. His pace is quick, just like what Uki requested, but not hard enough to bruise. The idea of hurting Uki made his heart squeeze, and it went both ways as Uki dropped his hands back to the mattress. Fulgar intertwines his fingers in the man's fingers underneath him, breathing heavy as passionate moans and gasps fill the air.

"Uki," Fulgar chants underneath his breath, biting down on the Psychic's neck and leaving behind another gift for Uki.

"F-Fulgar!" Uki exclaims, small tears at the edges of his eyes. Not because of the stretch, no, he fucking loved that because of the pleasure causing his toes to curl and the heat to build up in his stomach. "M close!"

"So am- I-I, darling," Fulgar moans, kissing Uki's ear lobes as Uki sinks his teeth into Fulgar's neck. "Fuck, you're doing wonderful, my darling. C-cum for me now. You got this- taking me so fucking well."

Fulgar's praises help send Uki over the edge, cumming all over his stomach as Fulgar grunts, spilling his seed inside Uki. The hot warmth suddenly in Uki's guts cause him to whine quietly. It felt so good.

Fulgar's arms shake as he pulls out, plopping beside Uki with heavy breaths. Uki turns his head to admire the man before him, his breaths quick. His albino hair frames his face, sweat sheen across his brow. Uki reaches a hand, cupping Fulgar's cheek. Fulgar rests his hand on Uki's.

"That was perfect," Uki murmurs.

"You're perfect, Uki," Fulgar sighs, observing Uki. "You're so fucking beautiful." He glances down. "So let me clean you up, yeah?"

"And I'll help too-"

"No, no, let me spoil you." Fulgar gets up and walks to the bathroom to retrieve a towel.

Uki props himself up with an arm, smiling affectionately at Fulgar's ass as he sauntered off.

Yup, this is his man alright 💜

#Psyborg #Noctyx #nijisanji en #nijisanji smut #nijien #nijisanji #Fulgar ovid #Uki violeta #Uki violeta x Fulgar ovid #Nijisanji ships

43 notes · View notes