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incognit0slut · 2 months ago

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was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #angst #angst with no happy ending

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tojicide · 16 days ago

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SANTA TELL ME! 𝓍 JJK MEN.

summary. they reluctantly join you in your holiday festivities by dressing up for christmas. their present? cumming down a different type of chimney. with gojo, toji, geto, nanami.

warnings. fem! reader, wife/girlfriend! reader, unprotected, semi-public, oral ( both receiving ), mating press, prone bone, missionary, pet names, breeding / breeding kink, bound wrists, hair pulling, creampie, brief mentions of pregnancy.

★ satoru gojo — santa claus.

“don’t make me go,” he whines, plopping down onto your bed face-first. you didn’t even have to see his face to know that he was pouting, that pink bottom lip of his jutted beyond comprehension.

you huff, spinning around from the mirror to look at his miserable figure. to no one’s surprise, there he was, the strongest sorcerer of all behaving like a petulant child over having to dress up for a whopping two hours.

begrudgingly, you place a hand on his leg, rubbing up and down to gather his attention. “it won’t be so bad. stop your whining and get dressed, gojo.”

satoru picks his head up almost immediately, his brows knit in confusion. “gojo? oh, so now these children are turning my own wife against me!“

and by children, he means the students at jujutsu high school who were promised the satoru gojo’s presence at their holiday event. all he had to do was go rub elbows with the staff and students, wish a few people a ‘meeeerry christmas!’ and be on his way. but of course he can’t be reasonable and do what he’s asked. who would satoru gojo be if not consistently difficult?

“what are you even— satoru, just get up!” you exclaim, tugging on his leg to pull him halfway down the bed.

he groans out. “i mean— they don’t even believe in santa claus anymore! what is the point?”

you scoff, tugging his leg once more. “don’t make me repeat myself or i’ll take away my promise of giving you a ‘special present’ once this is over.”

and it was incredible how fast he’d gotten dressed, his lanky frame now dressed in rich red fabric from head to toe. a santa claus costume. as he exits the closet, he is already wearing a frown. it’s borderline infuriatingly how handsome he is even when he wears such a downcast expression.

“aww!” you beam, cupping his face in admiration. you pinch his cheeks, watching as they become cherry red from both the contact and your reaction. “you look so cute!”

satoru’s face flushes, a scoff leaving him. “only cute? i must look horrific in that case.”

he plops down onto the stool in front of your vanity dresser, not daring to look at his reflection. just as he was about to complain for what felt like the hundredth time—he pauses. brow raised, he glances up at you with eyes swirling with mischief.

“oh, mrs. clauuuuus,” he sings, leaning back against the dresser. “i think i need a bit of practice before the big event. y’know… as first-time santa and all.”

you tilt your head, your expression portraying your obvious confusion. “practice? practice what?”

he stretches out his arms, beckoning you closer with his hands. “practice being ol’ saint nick, of course. need a pretty woman like you to come sit on my lap ‘n tell me what she wants for christmas. it’ll really get me in the right state of mind, i promise.”

you both know better. if the already growing erection beneath the fabric of his pants wasn’t telling enough, the haze of neediness in his eyes would have communicated his true intentions just as sufficiently.

with a rough sigh, you oblige, taking a sideways seat in his lap. your deep red dress rides up just a bit, revealing the smooth expanse of your thighs to the wandering eyes of your husband. he hardly bats an eye when you chuck a quiet insult of: “for christmas, i want you to stop complaining and let me finish my makeup.”

satoru’s hands map out your creamy skin—from your ankles to your knees to your thighs—all while you pay him no mind and continue to apply your lip liner. he raises his brows, bright eyes fitting to your lip balm as you apply it to your plush lips.

“ooh, what flavor you got?” he coos, leaning forward to try and capture your lips in a kiss.

but you place a hand on his face, squishing his cheeks to make him form an adorable kissy face as you just hardly peck his lips. “peppermint.”

he licks his lips, taking as much as he can get from you for the time being. “yummy. can i have some more?”

satoru almost startles when you bring the festive lip balm to his lips, swiping it over his mouth in precise strokes. “sweeeets,” he whines, snatching the small tube from your hand to set it down on the dresser. “can’t i just have a little kiss? just one, honey, promise.”

you huff, shaking your head. “you’re telling me i just wasted two precious swipes of my lip balm on your lips when you didn’t even want any?”

"nuh-uh. wasted nothing, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. he then leans into you, his strong hands settling on your hips as he pulls you in just the same. "buuuut if you're so concerned about your precious chapstick..." he speaks, his nose brushing against your cheek. "why don't you come ‘n get it back?"

you hum in contemplation, bringing your thumb up to wipe away the moisture from his bottom lip. kissing with lip products on was messy enough as is, and truth be told, nothing about kissing satoru was clean. he kissed you like he wanted to devour you whole, like he was proposing to your lips with each nibble and lick.

“gimme a sec,” you murmur, accurately and thoroughly wiping away the gloss from his lips. he let you, too.

satoru’s lips part as you smudge away the gloss, his tongue darting out to catch a stray bit of the sweet and minty flavor. he wraps his lips around the pad of your thumb, suckling like the insatiable minx he is before you pull it away.

"theeeere we go," he purrs. "all clean ‘n ready for my gorgeous wife.” he leans back against the edge of the dresser, spreading his legs slightly to expertly maneuver you to straddle his thighs.

his hands just barely slip beneath the fabric of your dress, thumbs rubbing circles onto your hip bones. "c’mere, baby," he whispers, his desperation on full display without a care in the world. "lemme show you what else these lips can do besides waste your lip balm."

and your self restraint slips away the moment your lips slot into his, his breath catching in his throat as if he hadn’t truly expected you to let him taste you. with the gift that you’ve just bestowed upon him, he slips his tongue into your mouth, a throaty groan omitting him.

shamelessly, his hands slide around the curve of your hips, firmly grasping onto your ass. he bucks his hips upward, pressing his hard bulge to your clothed cunt, a choked whimper leaving him as he begins to kiss his way down your throat.

“want my present a little early,” he murmurs, nipping at your collarbone before his wet tongue swipes out to soothe the sting. “please?”

you hum, lips parting as you begin to instinctively roll your hips back and forth along the imprint of his length. it was a heady feeling, knowing just how much you affected him, how much he yearns for every inch of you no matter the time nor the place. “but—”

all the while, he pulls at the neckline of your dress, tugging it down just enough to reveal one of your breasts. “mm,” he rumbles in reply, lips latching onto your nipple the moment he saw it. his tongue works around your areola, lathering your sensitive skin up with his saliva before pulling away with a wet pop. “pleeease? just the tip, baby. i won’t be greedy.”

his fingers are already blindly pulling down the zipper of your dress, watching with blown pupils as more and more of your smooth skin becomes his to see. to touch. to taste. to love. he isn’t sure if this is such a good idea, his dick already twitching in his pants just from the sight of his beautiful wife, but he can’t resist you. not now, not ever.

“o-okay,” you agree, a hand slipping into his soft locks of white hair as his talented mouth sucks on your neglected breast as if was revealed to him. “counts as half your gift then.”

satoru nods his head in understanding, rising from the stool with you in his arms. your dress falls from your body, pooling on the hardwood floor as he sets you down on the bed. he was out of his festive outfit just as fast as he’d gotten into it, the holly jolly clothing discarded messily on the floor.

his mouth presses open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your torso. your breasts, your stomach, the curve of your waist, your hips, the mound of your pussy. your back arches into the sensation, hands grasping firmly onto his strong shoulders as he crawls over you.

fingers hooking beneath your underwear, he tugs the damp fabric down your legs, tossing them carelessly across the room. it’s then that his lovesick eyes rove over your skin, all bare and glistening from both your natural beauty and the slick of his saliva from kissing his way around your body.

“well, aren’t you just the most beautiful present a man could ask for,” he smiles, hands finding the back of your thighs as he pushes them up into your chest. propping himself up on one arm, he still nearly folds you in half by his weight pressing into you. his free hand guides his blushed tip to your drooling heat.

he drags the head of his cock along your folds, groaning at the feeling of his pre coating your already wet skin. “’m so lucky,” he whisers, another throaty moan escaping him the moment he pushes his tip inside of you.

your hands claw at his biceps, head falling back on the plush mattress. “no, i-i’m the lucky one,” you tell him, earning a choked chuckle in response.

satoru fucks you shallowly, keeping his promise of just the tip as he gazes down at you with such adoration that you’re surprised you haven’t exploded into pretty little hearts. “mmh— we can both be lucky,” he rasps, his free hand slipping between the two of you for his thumb to circle your clit.

your body responds so well to his touch, inner walls clenching down on the head of his dick. a soft mewl escapes your kiss bitten lips, clutching particularly hard onto his arm once he applies a heavy finger to your swollen nub. “j-just another inch,” you suggest, flashing him a wry smile.

he was quick to nod, returning your grin. “mhmm, was thinking the same thing. such a smart girl you are, readin’ my mind like that.”

it was a shock to no one as one more inch turned to two, then three, four, five, six… all up until he was balls deep inside of your dripping cunt, thrusting into you like a madman who’s head was entirely occupied by thoughts of his beloved wife and her perfect pussy.

satoru promised not to be greedy, but you both knew he was anything but when it came to you. like a moth to a flame, he was forever longing for you, his wife, in any way he could have you.

folded into a mating press, your velvety walls shift to accommodate him. the wet sounds of your cunt sounding in the air with each heavy rock of his hips that nudges his cock impossibly deeper inside of you, making you feel like you’re floating and seeing stars just the same.

“fuuuuck,” he drawls, hands planted firmly on the back of your thighs as he keeps you nice and open for him. his hips drive into you with passion, his skin slapping against yours with each movement he makes, filling the room with sounds of your shared pleasure. “takin’ me so well, doin’ so damn good. made just for me, baby.”

your eyes slip shut as you cry out, pussy clenching down on him like a vice, proving to the both of you that you truly were made for each other. “kiss me,” you pant, hands reaching for his face to tug him down to you.

and satoru has never been one to deny his pretty little wife anything she desires, his lips crashing into yours as you swallow up his sounds of overwhelming pleasure. it’s all teeth and tongue, saliva coating your lips as your nails dig into his face, holding him in place as his cock drags in and out of you.

you taste him on your tongue, just as he does with you, the tingling sensation lingering on your tastebuds leaving you absolutely dumb and needy for your husband. he reaches for your left hand, lacing your fingers together while his other cups your cheek, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead on yours.

“tell me what your—hah—real christmas wish is, baby,” he teases, nipping at your bottom lip with his pearly white teeth.

you whine, back arching off the bed as his cock hits your sweet spot just right. vision blurry and clouded by your adoration for your husband, you kiss him as you whisper your answer. “you.”

eyes widening in surprise, a goofy grin stretches across his handsome face. “you really are in luck, sweets. i can give ya juuust that.”

and then, his strokes slow, opting for a more languid approach to making love to you as you both begin to approach your climaxes. moans, whines, kisses, teary eyes—between each and every exchange between the two of you, one thing remains constant.

your love.

it doesn’t take long for you to find your release, an airy cry fleeting into the room as a thick ring of cream coats his cock. spurred on by bringing you so much pleasure, satoru kisses your cheek. your forehead. your nose. your eyebrow. your lips.

and with a few more thrusts, he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full to the brim with both his cock and his seed. sticky and warm, the substance leaking out of you serving as a physical embodiment of how much he loves you. how much he loves making love to you.

pulling back with a breathless smile, satoru kisses you once more. “y’know… maybe i should’ve kept the suit on. didn’t know my pretty little wife had a thing for mr. claus.”

rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as you whisper in his ear. “…mhm. go clean up and get dressed, satoru. i made you get ready an hour early just to make sure we had enough time.”

“…psh. c’moooon, baby, you serious?”

★ toji fushiguro — the grinch.

“ow. ya got that shit in my eye,” he grumbles, glaring up you like you had just punched him in the face.

you giggle, shaking your head as you pick up a tinier makeup brush, swiping it around his mouth to create the illusion of the makeup look that you’re currently working on—using none other than your husband as the canvas. the color green covers his entire face, an even darker shade contouring the minuscule details of the grinch’s appearance.

“isn’t funny,” he grumbles once more, slumping his shoulders. though, he doesn’t stand up from the edge of the bed, nor does he attempt to jerk his head away at any point.

it’s in that moment that toji realizes just how soft he’s become for you. never in his life would he ever imagine that he’d be here, sitting at the edge of his shared bed with his wife standing between his parted legs, doing his makeup to make him look like her favorite holiday character.

not to mention, you have him wearing a fuzzy headband to push his dark locks of hair out of his face. a. fuzzy. headband. there’s cute little reindeer antlers on it too, making him look even more adorable than he’d like to. he was such a goner, far too in love with you to put up any kind of real protest.

you work with your tongue poking out between your lips, brow furrowed in concentration as you apply a bit of green eyeliner to his lips—using it as lip liner instead. “hold still, babe! hold still!”

“this shit tastes like sewer water. are ya almost done?”

“well, you aren’t exactly supposed to lick it. wait— how do you know what sewer water tastes like?”

and to that, you don’t get an actual explanation. instead, you receive a smack on your ass and a firm squeeze from the man sitting in front of you. “mind y’er business, woman.”

minding your business is exactly what you do, returning to your task of finishing up the makeup look to the best of your ability with a wide, beaming smile on your pretty face. toji will never live this down, he’s sure of it, but getting to see that smile of yours was more than enough justification for this entire experience.

“aaaaand…” you sing, reaching for a nearby hand mirror. you spin it around, showing him the finish product. “finished! do you like it?”

toji can’t help his facial expression as it contorts in horror, his jaw slacking while his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. his gaze flits up to you, his hands on your hips giving them a firm squeeze. “tell me this comes off, doll.”

you pout, visibly deflating as you hear his reaction. it wasn’t that you weren’t expecting it, because you absolutely were, but you had a habit of guilt tripping him. how else could you have convinced him to let you do his makeup in the first place? think smarter, not harder.

“it comes off,” you confirm, putting down the mirror on your vanity desk. you place your hands on his shoulders, sighing heavily as you shake your head. “soooo… can i get a pic before we go?”

“no.” toji was already in a piss poor mood after agreeing to go to your company’s annual christmas party, especially now that you made him dress up and actually follow the theme for the event.

you sigh, dropping your head onto his shoulder. “fiiine. you’re such a party pooper.”

he has no problem with that. at least there won’t be any physical evidence of this ordeal that you’ve dragged him into. he watches with narrowed eyes as you maneuver around the room, dressed up as ‘martha may’ or whoever the fuck from the movie ‘how the grinch stole christmas’. you looked sexy, per usual, but he was more so concerned with making sure that you stuffed makeup wipes into your purse.

that was your one agreement—you’d have to let him take it off whenever he wanted to. boring, you think, but understandable.

as much as you wanted to think that toji would indulge you just for a little while, the second the two of you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace, he was already digging into your purse to find the makeup wipes.

“toji!” you scold, attempting to reason with him. “c’moooon, babe. everybody’s dressing up, it’s not just us!”

“doooon’t care,” he mumbles, fishing out the package. he then turns to you, catching a glimpse of your pouty expression. bottom lip tugged downward, eyes soft and full of hope. fuck, it tugged on his heartstrings and you knew it. “damn it, woman. don’t look at me like that.”

you lean over the center console of the car, placing a hand on his bicep. toji relents, tipping his head back as he groans aloud. “fine, fine. you can take a picture before i wipe this mess off.”

one picture turned into many, all of which were different poses and expressions that you forced toji to do just for you. kissy faces, his tongue sticking out, holding up a peace sign… yeah, you’re definitely using those against him. but hey, he probably won’t mind. he loves you too much.

by the time the two of you finally make it into the party, you notice the immediate scowl that sets into his handsome features. his jaw was tense, his eyes narrowed, and he made sure to have a hand hooked around your waist at all times. a bit possessive, you think, but maybe he’s just trying to make sure that you don’t manage to find another grinch on this christmas eve.

“fix your face, toji,” you quip, patting his cheek with your palm. you pucker your lips, silently asking for a kiss, to which he indulges you with yet another grumble.

he leans dips his head, nuzzling into your neck with a soft growl. “for you, baby, i’ll suffer through it. just don’t expect me to enjoy myself.”

his hand slides up your side, fingertips grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your little festive dress. he lingers there, thumb brushing over your nipple in tease. “but i’d much rather be somewhere private with ya, y’know... tearin’ that pretty dress off and buryin’ my face between your legs ‘til—“

you gasp, lightly swatting his hand. if that weren’t enough, the vulgarity of his words are enough to make your face heat up, your gaze flickering away from your husband to see if anyone else in the event had been watching you closely enough.

“toji!” you scold in a whisper yell, snapping your gaze back in his direction. “you know you can’t talk to me like that in public, especially not here.”

toji chuckles lowly, clearly unrepentant. "what’d i do? ‘m just makin’ conversation.” he leans in even closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks. "bet you're nice ‘n wet just thinkin’ about me eating that sweet pussy of yours. want me to bend you over the table right here ‘n show everyone what a needy girl you are f’r me?"

you swat his hand away once again, smoothing the fabric of your dress over as if his touch hadn’t been there at all. you catch the eye of a group of your colleagues, giving them a wave and a polite smile before you turn back to your husband, your expression faltering.

“i’m the needy girl, but you are the one who can’t keep his hands to himself,” you retort, raising a brow at him. “hm. good try, honey. i’m going to go speak with my colleagues over there. you’re more than welcome to join me.”

toji scoffs, rolling his eyes. "yeah, yeah, i'll be a good boy ‘n play nice." he scoffs under his breath, but follows you over to your coworkers nonetheless.

as you chat with them, he stands slightly behind you, one hand resting possessively on your lower back. every so often, his fingers dip under the hem of your dress, brushing against the bare skin there. shameless, he is.

"so," one of your male coworkers says to you, leaning in a bit too close for toji’s liking. "looking gorgeous tonight. where’s the lucky husband?"

toji supposed this is his fault, having never attended one of these events alongside you before, but was this guy fucking dumb? who else would be all over you like he is right now unless he was your husband?

his hand tightens on your hip, pulling you slightly against his chest. "you blind? where else would i be?" he asks, voice deceptively calm.

the coworker holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "hey, hey, no problem, man. just admiring the view, you know how it is. can't blame a guy for looking, right?"

"nah, i don’t get it. fuck is y’er problem?" he growls, attempting to step around you and get to the man.

“toji!” you murmur, pressing back against him to keep him at a safe distance. you nearly forgot how quick his temper could rise considering that you rarely saw it yourself.

your coworker's face pales, stammering out an apology before scurrying away. toji watches him go, then he turns to you, eyes softening. "let's get outta here, yeah?" he says, offering his arm. "i've had enough of this. gonna take you somewhere i can put my hands on ya without getting you fired."

he guides you towards the exit, hand resting on your hip while you lean into his side. once outside, he opens the car door, not so gently helping you into the driver’s seat. "i’d be mad too," he murmurs, laying a smack on your ass as he makes his way over to the passenger side. "if i saw ya goin’ home with another man, i’d be tryin’ to enter a dick measurin’ competition too.”

a strong hand cups your sex through your panties, fingers rubbing slow, tight circles. "mm. can’t wait to taste her." he captures your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. "c’mon… let's go home so i can get ya out of this dress and show you just how much i appreciate you. ‘n hey… maybe if you're really good, i'll let ya ride my face 'til y’er screaming."

you roll your eyes with a chuckle as you tug her dress back down to its proper length. “you beg me to ride your face as is,” you joke, even though it’s most certainly true.

toji was insatiable, and he would (and has) eat your pussy for hours if given the chance. you haven’t ever had to ask him for it, and you probably never will.

just as you reach to stick the key in the ignition, toji grabs your keys from your hand, holding them up with a smirk. "ah ah ah, not so fast." he crowds you, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck while his other hand slides beneath the fabric of your dress, fingers grazing your panties

"y’know the rules, doll. no ridin’ my face 'til you prove how much you want it." he leans in close, teeth grazing your earlobe. "so. why don't you lean on over ‘n show me that pretty mouth of yours?”

you raise your brows, glancing around the parking lot in a frenzy. “but— toji, we can’t.” you blink a few times before you pull back just enough to find his eyes once more. “what if someone sees?”

toji snickers, eyes glinting with mischief and lust. love, too, of course— but he’s too busy being a hard ass to act on it. "let 'em see. let the whole damn world watch as my sexy little wife sucks my cock." he tugs your wrist, pressing your palm against the large bulge in his pants. "feel that? feel how hard you make me? i need y’er mouth on me, baby. now." his other hand gently slides into your hair, though he grips tightly as he guides your head down. "open wide, doll. show me what a good girl you can be."

you don’t protest as he guides you down, mouthing at the bulge in his pants while you both work to pull them down. your heart is beating out of your chest, nerves aching from the stress of potentially being caught by sucking your husband’s dick in the parking lot one of your work colleagues. “no need to be so rough with me,” you playfully scold, shaking your head as you work to undo his belt. “insatiable, you are.”

toji grunts as you fumble with his belt, hips rocking forward impatiently. "quit stallin’ ‘n suck my dick already."

when you finally free his cock, it springs out, already hard and leaking. he fists a hand in your hair, guiding your mouth to his tip. "fuck, your lips feel s’good wrapped around me. so perfect." he thrusts upward shallowly, letting you adjust to his size before pushing deeper. his other hand grips the side of the car, the material creaking under his strength. "thaaat’s it, take it all. gonna fuck this pretty mouth 'til ya choke on it."

toji throws his head back with a groan as your throat constricts around him. his abdomen tenses up, both of his hands working to tug your hair up into a makeshift ponytail. "yeah, jus’ like that. take it deep, baby, there ya go." he sets a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucks your face. spit drips down your chin, your nose pressed against his pelvis with every thrust. "shit, ’m gonna cum already," he pants, fingers tightening in your hair. you made him feel like a virgin each and every time you went down on him. “swallow it."

with a final, hard thrust, he buries himself in your mouth and lets go. "shit," he grunts, cock pulsing as he shoots his load directly down your throat. he holds you in place, forcing you to swallow around him. not that you would pull away. breathing hard, he lets up on you. he tucks himself back into his pants with a sated smile. "now thaaat's what i call a earnin’ it, baby. c’mon, let's get home so i can return the favor."

you roll your eyes, snatching your keys back from his grasp. you wipe your face with the back of your hand, intentionally slapping dangerously close to his crotch as you sit up, earning a yelp of warning. “you’re a real jerk, toji,” you scoff, sticking the key into the ignition.

toji chuckles as he properly settles into the passenger seat, sprawling out lazily as if he owned the vehicle. "yeeeah, yeah, i know. but you love me anyway." he reaches over, hand sliding up your thigh as you begin to drive. "besides. i'm the one who has to deal with all these assholes pervin’ on what's mine, some road head is just… a little reassurance." his fingers creep higher, teasing along the edge of your panties. "get us home quick, doll. my dick’s gettin’ hard again."

the car swerves slightly as your breath hitches, his touch igniting the ever-present spark of desire between you. toji simply grins, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you. you just roll your eyes at his words, resting your elbow on the windowsill of the car, your temple resting on your closed fist.

you swat his hand as his fingers brush against the damp spot of your panties, sliding his hand back down to a more appropriate position on your thigh. “as if. you can wait.”

toji scowls, clearly displeased with being denied. "tch, fine. be that way." he withdraws his hand entirely, folding his arms across his chest with a huff. his eyes drift shut, long lashes fanning out against his cheeks. he tries to act upset, but within moments, his hand is already settling back onto your thigh.

you glance over at him as you drive, taking in the peaceful lines of his face. even in sleep, he looks intimidating, his features sharp and angular. but there's a softness to him too, a vulnerability that only you get to see. a simplicity that’s reserved only for you.

when you pull into the driveway of your shared home, you reach over and shakes his shoulder gently. "hey, honey. we're home."

toji stirs, blinking blearily as he takes in the familiar surroundings of the driveway. he stretches languidly, the movement causing his shirt to ride up and expose a peek of toned abs. "mmm, already? thought you'd make me wait longer as punishment for the whole 'road head' thing." he hums, pecking your cheek before he exits the car.

he rounds the vehicle to open your door for you, ever the gentleman despite his earlier crudeness. as you slide out, he pulls you against his chest, one hand sliding possessively down to grip your ass. "let's get inside. 'm still hard as a rock and need to be buried in that sweet pussy of yours soon enough.”

without waiting for a response, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the house. his lips find your neck, peppering ticklish kisses along the soft planes of your skin. you drape an arm around his shoulders as he carries you, squirming with a soft giggle as he sinks his teeth into your neck. it hardly hurts, more so tickles, and the crinkled lines around your eyes and the wide smile you wear communicates that.

“put me down! ‘m still mad at you,” you very weakly protest.

toji chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin as he continues to carry you. "nah. i like havin’ you in my arms like this. makes me feel all caveman-y and shit." he kicks the front door shut behind him, still not putting you down. instead, he starts walking towards the bedroom, his steps intentful. "beeeesides, i wanna lay you out on the bed ‘n taste every inch of you. can’t do that if y’er standin’ up."

he lays you down gently on the mattress, crawling over you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "now, where were we? oh right, i believe i promised to eat this pretty pussy 'til ya scream."

★ suguru geto — ribbons in his hair.

“ta-da!” you sing, spinning your boyfriend around in the mirror to view the product of your christmas makeover.

suguru stood dumbfounded. his dark locks of hair were tied up in a disorganized fashion, silky red ribbons separating the sections ever so messily. “i don’t mean to offend you, sweetheart, but… this took you thirty minutes to do?”

you peek out from behind him, staring into the mirror as a pout tugs on your bottom lip. “you don’t like it?” you ask, purposefully putting on a softer tone of voice, staring at him with those wide puppy dog eyes of yours that he still can’t resist to this day.

“no! no, baby, that’s… not…” he trails, eyes flitting back up to his reflection in the mirror. did it truly look that bad? no… yes… shit. he flashes you a wide smile, reaching behind him to tug your frame forward. he presses a kiss on your forehead. “i love it so much. thank you, sweetheart.”

was lying to his girlfriend a good idea? no, never. but sometimes, suguru reasons, lying is necessary to keep his beautiful girl happy. you were so excited to do this with him, purchasing you both matching christmas pajamas with little christmas trees and reindeers on the fabric.

not to mention, you had planned such a cozy night for the two of you. building gingerbread houses, baking cookies, cozying up on the couch as the two of you watch your favorite holiday movies…

and so, he kisses your cheek, smiling to himself as he watches your pupils dilate. when you wrap your arms around his neck, luring him in for a proper kiss, he’s silently thankful that you won’t be questioning him any further about your not-so-great handiwork in his hair.

“i know it looks horrible, suguru,” you say into his mouth, a warm chuckle following your words. you pull back, rising up onto your toes to plant a kiss on his nose. silently, you make a note to redo this next year and make him dress up as rudolph the red-nose reindeer. externally, however, you grin. “but you passed my test, baby. just like i knew you would.”

he exhales in relief, his forehead falling until it pressed against yours. “phew. i was worried you’d make me wear these things in my hair for the rest of the night.”

you laugh once more, a hand slipping into his messily styled hair. “oh, no, i have other plans for you tonight,” you whisper, giving one of the ribbons a cute twirl around your finger.

unabashedly, he moans at the mere feeling of your fingers in his hair, just as he had been before as you tugged and tied the satin fabric around his dark locks. it relaxed him, but more than anything, it turned him on. immensely.

and for the first time during this entire process, the moment your stomach brushes against him, suguru realizes that he’s hard. rock hard. so hard that it almost hurts, his cock stiff beneath the soft fabric of his pajama pants and silently begging for relief.

“was this your plan all along?” he asks, his voice taking on a low and husky tone that leaves your skin babbling with goosebumps. “to rile me up with your games? tch. how cruel, sweetheart, even for you.”

and you’re smiling at his words, brushing both of your hands through his hair once more until you earn another needy groan in response. satisfied, you tug a single ribbon loose, watching as a section of his hair sways over his shoulder.

dangling the red ribbon in front of his face, you beam. “well, you can always get your payback… using these.” you can practically see the light bulb going off in his pretty head, his lips twitching into a smirk as he places a hand on the small of your back.

always so gentle. that was how you would usually describe your boyfriend to the outside world, and judging by what they’d know of him, they would likely agree. but when it was just the two of you, alone and in the privacy of your home, those words couldn’t have been less true.

you’re undressed before you can even process the cool air brushing along your soft skin, and you’re thrown onto your bed just as quickly. bouncing on the mattress, you look up at him, pupils stretched wide with passion.

“lean back for me,” he instructs, and you listen, flattening onto the plush mattress with your eyes still glued to his face. “thaaat’s it, beautiful. get nice ‘n comfy.”

his words were sugary and sweet, saccharine with the overwhelming taste of lust intruding on his words. he rolls you over, taking your wrists into one of his large hands as he works to tie one of the ribbons around them. although you’re immobilized, you can’t remember the last time you felt so antsy, so excited.

“you look pretty,” he coos, running his calloused hands down the smooth expanse of your sides. he reaches down, pulling your soft strands of hair away from your face as you glance at him. with a smile, he kisses your lips, the touch soft and sweet… all up until he pushes your head back into the mattress.

suguru straightens up, pulling another one of the ribbons loose from his hair. he decides to tie this one around your ankles, keeping you nice and wrapped up. with his hair now pulled half-up by a single ribbon, he decides that he’ll keep that one in, let you see your handiwork while he fucks you stupid. he’ll let it remind you of how you found yourself in this situation in the first place.

hooking his hands beneath your hips, he pulls your ass into the air, leaving you arched and vulnerable—all for his eyes to see. he groans, lowering himself just enough to press a kiss on your damp clit. “mm,” he mumbles into your heat, long tongue lolling out of his mouth to properly taste your slick. “you taste so good, baby. do me a favor, yeah?”

you nod, turning your head to the side as if you were looking at him. you can’t see him, but you can feel him, and that’s almost better in your book. “mhm… anything.”

and then you feel a sharp slap on your ass, soothed by none other than his warm hand rubbing over your reddening skin. “move.” confusion riddled your mind for a brief moment until you felt his tongue press against your pussy once more, curling it ever so slightly to encourage you to move.

a whimper falls from your lips as you begin to rock your hips in messy motions—circles, grinds, thrusts—your movements had no logic to them. not that either of you minded, his tongue flattening against your cunt as you buck yourself against his face.

“mmhm,” he hums in affirmation, laying another smack on your ass cheek. “use my tongue, princess. don’t try ‘n stop until you come on it, got it?”

panting heavily and moving with no other means aside from chasing your own orgasm, you nod your head feverishly once more. “g-got it.” though, with the way your hips begin to stutter, your movements growing more sloppier than before, suguru is lead to believe that you truly don’t get it.

no matter, he has plenty of time to make sure that you understand. his first step is to make you fall apart with his tongue alone.

“i know you can do better than that, sweetheart,” he mocks, pressing his face even further into your heat, his wet tongue lapping at you from behind while your weak motions begin to grow much more purposeful. “mm… there ya go, baby. keep goin’, get yourself niiiice ‘n ready for me.”

you swivel your hips in the best way you can, drawing out moans from both yourself and suguru. he marvels at how talented your fucking hips are, throwing yourself back onto his face just like he’d asked you to. “mhm, good girl,” he praises, running his hands along your thighs. “such a good girl for me.”

as your entire body begins to tremble, you cry out, eyes pricking with tears as you continue to chase your impending release. “s-suguru!” you whine, drool leaking down your lip. “i-i’m—”

you don’t have the time to get your warning out before your orgasm crashes over you in such intense waves, your candied release coating his tongue as he eagerly laps at your heat, cleaning you up willingly. and then you slump forward, boneless and exhausted, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead as you glance at him over your shoulder.

“very good, baby, gimme a kiss,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips. you whine into his mouth, wrists squirming within the tightly wrapped ribbon. suguru firmly grasps onto the place where your hands are joined. “no. you were bein’ so good, baby. don’t wanna be a brat now, do ya?”

to that, you shake your head, stilling the movement of your wrists. you can hear the sound of shuffling behind you, though your suspicions are confirmed once you feel the angry red tip of his cock brush against your ass.

“ooh, my girl is jumpy tonight,” he teases, placing a firm hand on your hip to prevent your squirming. “don’t move a muscle, sweetheart. i got ya.”

when you feel his weight settle on top of you, your back arches into him, earning you a strong arm wrapped around your neck. suguru messily kisses your cheek, open-mouthed and full of passion. all the while, he presses the head is his cock to your entrance.

“tell me what you want,” he says. you can practically hear the grin on his face as he speaks to you, but you can hardly find it within yourself to care once you feel his fat tip brush against you. “‘n say please.”

you move your hips, attempting to get his tip to catch your slippery hole just right. “fuck me,” you say, turning your head to make eye contact with him. pupils as wide as saucers, lips bit by his kisses, face lazily putting on a smile. “please.”

suguru already has a hard time saying no to you as is, but when you look like this? so beautiful and pliant, giving yourself to him and only him? he’s a goner and he knows it.

“so polite,” he rasps, kissing your cheek once more before he bullies his way inside of you. his cock pistons into your entrance, and his bicep locks on your neck gives him the opportunity to plow into you just how he wants to.

and you’re in no place to protest, not that you ever would. you can feel him stretching you out, the way his tip kisses your cervix with each brutal thrust of his hips, the way your entire body jolts in correspondence with his movements.

suguru was so strong. so brutal with the way he fucks you, so mean and rough. but with the way he kisses your cheek, your lips, your jaw, whispering soft ‘doin’ so good, baby’s and ‘so pretty’s in your ear—you remember why you fell for his gentleness before you knew anything else about him.

you’re inclined to believe that fucking and making love are two different things, far and wide apart in the eyes of an average person. but with suguru, with your love, you heartily disagree with them. with him, you get both. you get everything.

skin against skin, moans filtering through the room, sloppy kisses exchanged. you two were a mess, but you were each other’s mess, so entwined in a way that only you could be.

“gonna cum, baby,” he says into your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips. “fuck, need you to cum with me. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

you nod, biting down on your bottom lip as you feel a boiling heat coiling in your lower stomach. “yes!” you cry out, dropping your head to sink your teeth into his bicep, muffling your moans.

the pain hardly phases him, his pace as unrelenting as it was before, if not even more so. “now,” he rasps, burying himself balls deep as he fills you up with his thick seed. left unsure of where your orgasm ended and his began, or if you got the order wrong entirely.

resting your head on his bicep, suguru presses a kiss on your cheek once more. he runs a hand down your side, slowly rolling you over so that he can look at you.

smiling ever so softly, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s clean up, princess. i’ll wash you up real nice before we watch another movie. i bought a gingerbread scented candle just for my girl. some hot chocolate, too.”

…what? you weren’t the only one who could plan holiday festivities…

★ kento nanami — ugly sweater.

kento tried his hardest to be a good sport. he truly, truly did. but even he can only take so much, and his gorgeous wife asking him to wear a god awful holiday sweater was very quickly pushing him to his limits.

he wasn’t even sure why you’d chosen this one specifically. the wording was fine, feliz navidad it read, but the material was littered with christmas trees and tiny ornaments for the occasion. reindeers flying across his chest, snowflakes sewn into the garment. he stood in the mirror, face contorted in unease as he stares at the design. despite his silent disdain for the item, he hadn’t outwardly complained. how could he? you were so excited to wear these ugly things for your first christmas as a married couple!

and so, kento decided he’d stick it out. such the trooper he was, wearing this hideous garment to please you.

“honey?” he calls out to you, glancing around once he realizes he hasn’t seen you in a while. he can hear you distantly, the sound of rattling coming from the en suite. you were likely doing your makeup, very angrily in fashion. “hon—”

“we can’t go, kento!” you exclaim, storming out of the bathroom with your hair half-styled and only the base of your makeup completed. “i’m having a horrible… everything day. i can’t have your coworkers seeing me like this, they’ll think your wife is chopped.”

kento raises an eyebrow, his confusion evident. “chopped? i don’t particularly know what that means, but judging by your comment, i’ll go ahead and assume it isn’t a good thing.” he takes a few steps closer to you, strong hands planting firmly on your hips. “and if that is the case, you don’t fit that description. not at all.”

he raises a hand, brushing it over the back of your head. careful not to mess up your hair, he cups the back of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’m not exactly thrilled about attending my company’s christmas party either. we don’t have to go, but if you don’t want to attend on the basis of not feeling good about yourself, i won’t have that. you’re far too beautiful.”

you hum, shoulders slumping forward as you stare into his soft eyes. “i know, i know. i just…” and before you can finish your sentence, kento presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth, gently guiding you back onto the edge of the bed.

“i hear you, sweetheart. we all have our days,” he whispers, smoothing his hands over the material of your christmas sweater, reading it silently to himself. christmas cookies in the oven. hm. interesting choice, but you’re an interesting woman after all. his interesting woman. “let me love on you. make you feel a little better.”

and who are you to deny him? your husband is simply too sweet, too attentive and caring. if he wants to have you, you’d never deny him.

kento’s hands slide up your thighs, hooking your legs around his hips as he works to settle on top of you. his lips find your neck, kissing and nibbling on your sweet skin, a trail of heat slipping down your throat and across your collarbones. “lift your arms,” he gently commands, pushing your sweater up and over your head. you hadn’t finished getting dressed yet, only left wearing your panties now, which made his job easier.

he kisses his way down your body, his intention set on soothing any worries that you may be feeling. your neck, your breasts, your stomach, your inner thighs—his lips touch anywhere and everywhere. “spread your legs, baby, there you go,” he whispers, helping you open wide for him. discarding the fabric of your underwear, he delves into your pussy with a sense of reverence.

alternating between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, he does his absolute best to ease your mind and make your thoughts consistent of him and his love for you. “eyes on me, honey,” he says into your heat, softened gaze meeting yours. “hey, beautiful.”

drawing out long moans of pleasure, whimpers and whines, all from that beautiful mouth of yours. it makes kento feel accomplished in his goal, his hands grasping onto your thighs to keep your cunt nice and close to his mouth.

“mmh, ken,” you whisper, voice low and breathy. back arching from the mattress, your hands slip into his hair, roughing up his neatly styled locks. not that he minds, as long as you believe he looks good then that’s all he truly cares about. “please, more. i want more.”

and he’s quick to give into your request, pulling his sweater up and over his head before tossing it to the side. slipping out of his pants and boxers, he kicks them away, crawling back on top of you with a strong arm bracing him beside your head.

“hold onto me, baby,” he suggests, and you do, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “mm, good girl. gonna make all of those thoughts fade away, promise.”

your breath catches in your throat the moment you feel his cock slowly nudging inside of you, splitting you open with a big stretch. “ken—” you whine, nails digging into the strong muscles of his back.

“i know, honey, i know,” he whispers in your ear, stilling his movements to give you a long moment to adjust to the stretch of him inside of you. once your nails ease up, opting to merely hold him instead, kento takes that as a sign of you being ready.

his movements are still slow at first, easy rolls of his hips to fuck you long and deep, letting you feel every inch of him. one of his hands cups your cheek while the other keeps him propped up over you, reminding himself to not crush you with his weight.

“good job, sweetheart,” he pants, picking up the pace of his hips according to the sounds that he manages to lure out of you. “there she is. feeling alright, baby?”

you nod, one of your hands slipping into his blonde locks of hair while the other digs into the hard muscles of his shoulders. “y-yes,” you breathe, clenching around him like a vice. “feels so good, don’t stop. don’t stop.”

kento has no plans of stopping, not until you’re satisfied and fully content with his performance. truth be told, you’re more than satisfied, velvety walls grabbing onto him with each and every stroke of his cock.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing your skin. your cheek to your jaw to your neck, his plush lips brushing against you in time with each snap of his hips. “so beautiful, baby. i-i love you so much.”

with you clinging onto him like a baby koala, arms and legs wrapped around him so tightly, holding him close to you as he drives his length in and out of your wet heat, kento is quickly realizing that he won’t be lasting as long as he hoped.

more than determined to make you satisfied, his hand on your cheek slips between the two of your bodies, his fat thumb circling your puffy clit in tight circles. in turn, he feels you tense up, breathy moans of pleasure slipping from your swollen lips. he swallows them up with his own, kissing you messily as his ministrations drive you further and further to the brink of release.

and when your back arches from the bed, he slips an arm beneath the small of your back, leaning down to latch onto one of your breasts to treat you with as much stimulation as possible. “it’s too much,” you whine, clawing into his back, leaving angry red welts in your wake.

“you can take it,” he assures you, pressing a final kiss to your nipple before he leans over, lavishing your neglected breast with the same treatment. “mhm, doing so well. always do.”

you’re not sure if kento realizes just how good he is to you. how big he is, how strong, how talented. and he was all yours—giving himself to you entirely. you were his first and he’s more than determined to have you as his last, his everything for the rest of his life. to him, that starts with keeping you satisfied, in more ways than one.

“i’m close,” you warn, tilting your head back on the bed as a soft whimper escapes you. body trembling from the stimulation, legs constricting around him like a snake ready to attack, you feel the very moment your body teeters over the edge. “ken!” you cry.

he nods his head, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek as he feels you find your release on his cock, coating him with your candied essence that serves as his reward for treating you so well.

“i’ve got you, honey,” he whispers, a low throaty groan following his words. “i’ve got you.”

it doesn’t take long for him to catch up to you, his pace staggering as he chases his own orgasm. tensing up inside of you, you feel the way his seed floods inside of your inner channels, filling you up with the warm proof of his love and attraction for you.

for a few long movements, you hold each other close, breathing heavily into each other’s skin. stolen kisses, small smiles, and watery eyes. your hand raises, cupping his cheek while you press a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“can i ask you something?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“sure you can,” he replies, laying a soft peck to your lips.

“did you read the christmas sweater i got for you?”

kento nods, brows knitting in confusion. “yes, i did. why do you ask?”

“i just think the hidden meaning flew right over that handsome head of yours. it says feliz navi-dad.”

“…oh my.”

oh, it’s a christmas miracle!

note. don’t look at me… this came out way too late bc i spend too much time sleeping and scrolling jjk memes on pinterest. can i get a life? obviously NOT bc i just wrote 9k words of pure smut about 4 (four.) FICTIONAL MEN!!!! if you read this and enjoyed thank you <3 love ya for life. merry christmas 🎄

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5sospenguinqueen · 2 months ago

Text

Matchmaking Brothers | Arthur Leclerc x Gasly! Reader

Summary: Having known each other since they were kids, Yn and Arthur only spent time together when their families rallied together for the sake of their older brothers. Recently, fans have noticed that they’re spending more time together than ever before.

Warnings: None? Maybe swearing

Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . asked for gasly reader and brothers best friend arthur. sorry but this is only a short one

Faceclaim: Madison Beer

F1 Masterlist

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yn_gasly posted a new story

arthur_leclerc replied don’t be like that → you know you love having me → yn_gasly you ate all my crisps, begged me to order pizza and then cried because i “let you eat all that crap” → arthur_leclerc but did you i make you laugh? → yn_gasly at your expense, yes → arthur_leclerc you’re meaner than when we were 12 → yn_gasly and you haven’t changed

charles_leclerc replied don’t be like that, little gasly → you know you miss us when we’re travelling → yn_gasly what’s there to miss? → the bickering over racing? the sweaty socks left everywhere? competing over who can eat their pasta faster? → charles_leclerc don’t deflect. i know you miss arthur → yn_gasly now i really don’t miss you

francisca.cgomes replied send me that pic of pierre please

alexandrasaintmleux replied i’ll buy you a big glass of wine tomorrow

pierregasley replied i hate you → i wish i’d smothered you with a pillow when we were kids → yn_gasly i wish you’d get out of my apartment

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yn_gasly just posted

liked by jackdoohan, estebanocon and others

yn_gasly come to alpine, he said. it’ll be fun, he said. now i’m alone whilst he gets ready for quali and kiks has abandoned me also

1,980 comments

arthur_leclerc come to ferrari, it’s more fun

→ pierregasly don’t you dare

→ alexandrasaintmleux we have leo

→ yn_gasly on my way!

→ user1 was it leo or arthur who convinced you?

francisca.cgomes i didn’t abandon you! i had to pee!

→ yn_gasly i was left alone!

user2 i don’t know how any one could leave her alone when she looks that good

pierregasly i’m sorry that i have a job?

→ yn_gasly you should be. i have to suffer every race weekend because of you

→ user3 we all saw how tense she was during q3

→ user4 but also the way you jumped when you realised he was into q3

jackdoohan i promise i won’t let you be alone next year

→ yn_gasly and this is why you’re my favourite alpine driver

→ estebanocon i haven’t left yet, you know :(

→ yn_gasly you’re my second favourite, estie

→ pierregasly pierre erasure

→ user5 oo doohan’s got moves. arthur better look out

user6 can the test/reserve drivers of f1 fight? ‘cause yn is so fine

arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and others

arthur_leclerc a stressful weekend that ended so well. what a special moment, couldn't be more proud

1,699 comments

yn_gasly a huge congrats to charlie 🤍 so proud of you! i know you’ve dreamed of this day since we were kids. can’t wait to celebrate with you later

→ charles_leclerc merci, little gasly ❤️

user7 can’t believe arthur managed to sneak in yn on a post dedicated to charles

→ user8 family friends my ass

→ user9 tbf she looked so good today

→ user10 face card never declines liked by arthur_leclerc

alexandrasaintmleux who’s that cutie in the last slide

→ yn_gasly date me please

→ charles_leclerc whoa, when i said i wanted you to join the family, i didn’t mean by stealing my girlfriend

user11 anyone else suspicious about his weekend "ending well" and then a pic of yn?

→ yn_gasly his brother finally won monaco, babe. please go outside and touch grass. i just looked hot today

→ user12 imagine getting called out by the queen herself

pierregasly why are you posting my sister’s cleavage, little leclerc?

→ yn_gasly why are you such an embarrassment

→ arthur_leclerc i feel sorry for any man that dates you if he’s what they have to put up with

→ jackdoohan i’d be happy to volunteer?

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pierregasly just posted

liked by francisca.cgomes, alpinef1team and others

pierregasly the gasly’s and the leclerc’s

3,310 comments

charles_leclerc my favourite french family

→ yn_gasly i thought you were your favourite french family

→ charles_leclerc i know where you live 🔪

arthur_leclerc why does everyone else get a nice photo and i get the one where yn is trying to tackle me into the harbour?

→ pierregasly i thought it was cute!

→ user1 and we agree. now tell us they’re dating

alexandrasaintmleux 💕

user2 you can tell yn and arthur are the little siblings ‘cause neither of them got a face shot

→ yn_ln apparently we’re not as attractive as the others

→ arthur_leclerc i disagree

francisca.cgomes okay but me and alex look hot

user3 love how kika and alex are counted as the gasly’s and the leclerc’s

→ yn_gasly of course they are. they’re family

→ user4 and which one do you count as part of? 😏

user5 yn and arthur look a little closer than friends ngl

→ user6 no because the way that they’ve been closer than the two confirmed couples

→ user7 they’re literally clinging to each other

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arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by scuderiaferrari, alpinef1team and others

arthur_leclerc grazie monza for some unforgettable memories

2,009 comments

user8 if this isn’t confirmation that they’re together, i don’t know what is

user9 she’s been converted? damn, he must be good in bed

user10 omg yn featuring in another grand prix post!

user11 dick so good she forgot she was french

→ user12 ya’ll are unhinged but i can’t deny that this screams that they’re a couple

→ pierregasly i can’t believe i just had to read that

charles_leclerc loving every outfit in this. nice to see all the family support

→ pierregasly back off. she’s still my sister

→ charles_leclerc for now

→ user13 ???

yn_ln everyone calm down. we’re literally in the land of ferrari. it would be criminal not to support them

→ user14 but you’re french, not italian?

→ scuderiaferrari you can’t fight the forza ferrari sempre

pierregasly traîtresse!

→ yn_ln well, i’m always abandoned in alpine. they treat me good in ferrari

→ alpinef1team we’re sorry. please come back to us. we’ll do better

→ francisca.cgomes please come back. i miss you yn

→ yn_ln oh yeah you all want me now

→ arthur_leclerc i’ve always wanted you

yn_gasly just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and others

yn_gasly okay, guys. i did wear red for him

2,910 comments

charles_leclerc and i thought it was for me :(

user1 arthur kind of confirmed this already with his post and saying he always wanted you

→ user2 shush, we’re getting a glimpse into their relationship. don’t ruin it

arthur_leclerc and you look amazing in it ❤️

→ yn_ln almost as good as you do

→ charles_leclerc but no one looks as good as i do

→ alexandrasaintmleux just let them flirt, mon amour

user3 the height difference between them is killing me

pierregasly you better tell him to keep his hands where i can see them

→ yn_ln you were the biggest advocate for us getting together

→ charles_leclerc no, that was me

→ pierregasly yeah until i realised he would be putting his hands on my baby sister!

jackdoohan i guess i lost

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requests are open!

i am currently away but coming soon; mark webber smau, lewis baby angst part 2 and a franco smau

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months ago

Text

Sometime around eight or nine my best friend and I learned about hickies. I suspect he’s the one who learned it and shared it with me. We were both utterly fascinated and on a dare I sucked mightily on my own upper arm to give myself one.

This was great fun, self made bruise. Hilarious.

But looking at the mark later I thought that perhaps it might be best to bandage it lest any questions crop up. My parents were often suspicious of my friendship with the boy across the street anyway, and I had a vague inkling that perhaps hickies might fall under the vaguely looming topic of Sex.

So I put a bandaid on it.

I’m not sure if my mom was suspicious regardless but as I was getting out of the shower a day later she popped in and spotted my unbandaged mark. The handle was flown off. She was a creature made only of yelling. She demanded to know where it had come from.

I told her I’d done it myself. She scoffed and said I couldn’t even reach that place on my arm. I put my mouth over the mark. She escalated her volume to ask why I’d hidden it if it were nothing and I gestured vaguely to encompass her irate direction. She did not care for that or believe me, but the discussion was tabled.

Tension simmered in the house. A few days later it was a weekend and I asked if I could stay over at my friend’s house. To the bafflement of my friend and I our parents were increasingly hesitant to allow this childhood bonding. If he’d been a girl there would be no issue but he was a boy.

It didn’t seem to matter that we were both children and that my menstrual cycle would not arrive for several more years. Or that a boy was safer from me than many female friends would be on later sleepovers. The constant jokes we both loathed from both sets of parents that someday we’d get married now seemed ominous.

There were phone calls. The sleepover was reluctantly agreed to. I packed up my pillowcase with all the stuff I’d need for the night and headed toward the door. My father stopped me.

He insisted I sit down. I sat.

He stuttered, “Now. You’re like. Ah. A flower. And your friend is a- uh. A bee. And bees will sting you- uhm- if they can so you need to use- uh- protection- from stinging.”

I was nine. I had no fucking idea what was going on and my dad was not really helping. As he rambled I slowly started to intuit that this was about S-E-X and was very probably the result of my hickey but I had no idea how to make him stop talking.

I will never understand why it was my father giving this talk in the first place. My mother had previously worked in a sex shop and phrases like, “Make sure to use lube, you don’t wanna rub it raw down there,” were a common part of my youth. My father meanwhile turned red as a beet and stammered at any mention of Sex.

He finished his mortifying and confusing talk with, “Don’t tell your friend about this talk.”

The door closed to my friends room and I immediately told him about it.

We were both utterly horrified at the thought of each other as anything more than frenemies. We fought, we played games, we set off fireworks. Why did adults need to taint that?

But tainted it was.

Both sets of parents continued to radiate an unwholesome suspicion about our friendship now and we never brought up the topic of sleepovers ever again. It is a source of tremendous amusement that despite all their worry over our relationship my friend and I both turned out gay.

#ffs foibles #childhood #story #writing #funny #birds and bees #story time

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grapejuicenharry · 3 months ago

Text

Angel

Harry and Y/N are best friends— except they have feelings for each other (4k words)

warnings : smut 18+, fluff, kissing, grinding, jealous h

read part 2 of angel here

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry really liked—no, loved—Y/N, but he would never admit it to her. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine a day without her. She was like sunshine in his life, someone he could always rely on.

“Harry, my feet hurt,” Y/N whined beside him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy from one too many drinks. They were walking back from a party thrown by one of Harry’s friends, Alex. It was his birthday, and even though Harry and Y/N hadn’t planned to attend, today had been their last exam of the semester. That called for celebratory drinks after all the hard work they’d put in. Sleepless, stressful nights spent preparing for exams, completing assignments, and submitting papers—it had all been overwhelming, and tonight felt like the ideal way to finally blow off some steam.

“Didn’t I warn you about those heels?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow. He knew those heels always gave her trouble and told her to wear something more comfortable, but Y/N, being Y/N, never listened.

“Yeah, but they make me look sexy, and I wanted to be tall enough to at least reach your neck,” she replied absentmindedly.

“Well, guess that means I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” Harry said, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

“Harry, my dress is too short! I’m going to flash everyone,” Y/N laughed, though there was no real concern in her voice.

Harry chuckled, placing his hand carefully to keep her covered. Besides, the streets were almost empty at 2 a.m., and there was hardly anyone around to notice.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N met Harry on the first day of college. She was nervous and eager to make friends. Hurrying to her seat, she noticed Harry sitting next to her. The first thing she saw was his mop of curly hair, and she thought he was incredibly cute. He looked so innocent and nerdy in his black-rimmed glasses. He was just too adorable.

He wore a white T-shirt that highlighted his bulging biceps, with tattoos peeking through. Suddenly, Y/N found herself wanting to see every tattoo that adorned his beautiful body. She was so curious and lost in her thoughts about him that she didn’t realize Harry was, in fact, looking at her.

Harry thought he was dreaming as he looked at Y/N. She seemed like an angel, a beautiful one at that. She wore a cute white hoodie adorned with pink bows, and her curly hair framed her lovely face perfectly. What captivated him the most were her eyes; they were alluring, radiant, and a luminous shade of dark brown. Next were her luscious pink lips, so full and plump that he suddenly wanted to kiss them and taste them. He wondered if they tasted like berries or cherries, secretly hoping they tasted like cherries, his favorite fruit.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Y/N asked in a hushed voice. “I forgot to bring my pouch,” she added with a little pout.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, fixing his glasses, clearing his throat, and answering in a hoarse voice. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Later that day, they sat together at lunch, talking as if hours had passed. Y/N was so grateful to have found someone as kind as Harry, who listened to every word she said with such intent. They chatted about random topics, like their favorite TV shows and ice cream flavors. When Harry revealed that his favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, Y/N made a weird face.

“Shut up—no, don’t you dare say it!” Harry exclaimed, amused.

“But it tastes like toothpaste!” Y/N whined playfully.

“No, it does not!” Harry shot back. Y/N made a mental note to convince Harry to try every other flavor until he grew to hate mint chocolate chip.

They soon became inseparable—best friends. Harry didn’t realize just how much he had started to like Y/N until it was almost too late. He thought frequently about confessing his true feelings, but there never seemed to be the right moment. He cherished the friendship they had, and the thought of losing her terrified him to his core. So he kept those feelings hidden, bottled up, and accepted her as his best friend.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry set Y/N down on the couch when they reached her apartment. He kneeled down to take off her heels. “Ouch, slowly please,” YN whined.

“I am never letting you wear these stupid shoes again. Your feet are all red and swollen,” Harry countered, looking genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Y/N in pain. He wanted to protect her from everything and keep her safe in his cocoon—just him and Y/N.

He then carefully carried a sleepy Y/N to her bedroom and started looking for a comfortable shirt for her to wear. After finding a suitable shirt, he went to the bathroom to grab her makeup wipes and returned to find half-asleep Y/N lying on the bed. “Sweetheart, this will only take two minutes, I promise.” He began wiping her face gently.

After getting Y/N all ready for bed, Harry changed his own clothes. Y/N had “borrowed” too many of his shirts, but honestly, he never minded it. In fact, he secretly liked when Y/N wore his clothes. She looked breathtaking in his oversized shirt paired with her tiny shorts, which made Harry lose his mind.

“Come to bed and cuddle me; I need to sleep,” Y/N grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Coming, sweetheart, just two minutes,” Harry replied with a smile. He knew how grumpy Y/N got when she was sleepy. He quickly climbed into bed, set his glasses on the side table, and pulled her to his side. Cuddled next to him, Harry didn’t mind being the big spoon. He loved having Y/N molded to his side—the sweet scent of her hair, which smelled like strawberries on a sunny day, and the soft skin that felt like vanilla sundae. He adored every inch of her. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything around him was rainbows and sunshine; she made everything look like it was through rose-tinted glasses.

But Harry also loved being the little spoon. There were days when he just wanted to be held, and honestly, Y/N loved having him like that—clingy, needy, like a cute little puppy.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

One day, Harry arrived at Y/N’s apartment looking extremely worn out. Y/N was lying on the bed, comfortably engrossed in her favorite novel. She grew concerned upon seeing Harry.

“I am so exhausted, and my head hurts,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. “I had to sit in Professor Martin’s class for two hours, plus I had a psychology presentation today,” he stated tiredly while rubbing his drowsy eyes behind his frames.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you had such a long day, baby. Come on, lie down, and I’ll massage your head,” Y/N replied, removing the blanket from her lap. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and dropped his head in Y/N’s lap. She carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the side table before starting to massage his head.

She threaded her fingers in his curls, scratching his head lightly, rubbing, and applying just the right amount of pressure. Harry let out a soft moan as he could already feel the tension melting away, his body instinctively relaxing further into her lap.

“Feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against her legs.

As her skilled fingers glided over his scalp, working their magic and easing the stress that had built up after a long week.

Y/N smiled, enjoying the way he melted under her touch. She varied her movements, alternating between gentle rubs and firmer pressure, focusing on the areas where he seemed to carry the most stress. Her fingers danced through his hair, and she leaned forward slightly to whisper, “You deserve this. Just relax.”

After what seemed like hours of massaging, Y/N realized Harry had fallen soundly asleep on her lap. His face looked peaceful, with his eyes closed and soft snores slipping through his pretty pouty lips. He looked so adorable, and Y/N couldn’t help but wish she could freeze time to savor this moment longer.

Knowing Harry would probably complain about his back in the morning, she gently shifted him, lifting his head from her lap and placing it on a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, so she soothingly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away any lingering tension. Half asleep, Harry instinctively moved closer, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and nuzzling his face against her boobs. His personal pillow: He always has the best sleep whenever she holds him. Y/N smiled down at him. His curls tickled her jaw, and she couldn't resist leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” Y/N whispered, smiling at Harry, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry was never the jealous type—at least, not until Y/N came into his life. but right now he cant help but a bitter sensation rises up his throat when he sees yn with Jacob. A total douchebag who flirts with every girl in the college, Standing next to Y/N, too closely according to harry. Harry had come to find Y/N so they could grab tacos at their favorite spot, but instead, he’s witnessing this. Does Y/N like him? Does she have a crush on him that he doesn’t know about? What if Y/N is interested in him and wants to end her friendship with Harry? Will she forget about him? All these questions overwhelm Harry’s mind at the sight. No, no—Y/N was only his. His best friend, his angel, his sweetheart. She would never do something like this. His chest suddenly started burning at such thoughts.

Jacob says something which makes Y/N burst into laughter. His chest tightens at the sight. He wants to be the only person to make yn laugh like that. He curses inwardly that jacob gets to experience the sweet melody of her laughter, her laugh that can instantly brighten up the room with warmth and sunshine. He thinks to himself, Does Jacob know her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs? or how the mole under her right eye disappears when she laughs because of the fullness of her cheeks?

“Oi, whatchu looking at?” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face. He hadn’t realized she had come over and was talking to him. “You look like you could kill someone,” she teased, giggling as she spoke to him.

“Was that Jacob talking to you?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual even though he was fuming inside. “Yeah, he wanted my chemistry notes because apparently he spilled coffee on his,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arm around Harry's as they walked together.

“Did you give them to him?” Harry asked, mentally cursing Jacob and hoping she hadn’t.

“No, obviously I know he just wanted an excuse to hit on me. I’m not dumb,” Y/N exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you know I don’t like sharing my notes with anyone except for you, because you know how to take care of them.” She chided and planted a kiss on Harry’s cheek. His face instantly heated.

“Good,” Harry whispered quietly, fixing his glasses, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to hide the blush of his cheek and unable to suppress a smile at the thought of Y/N rejecting that jerk.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry loves when Y/N gets touchy like this with him. When randomly she hugs him, kisses him on his cheek, forehead, or settles on his lap while watching a movie. Her spontaneous kisses leave a soft tingle on his skin, and he can’t help but smile every time she curls up in his lap. It’s in these moments he feels closest to her, as if every touch and every kiss is a silent confession of how much she means to him. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her in a little tighter, enjoying the way she fits perfectly against him. The movie on the screen fades into the background; all he can focus on is the warmth of her body and the way she makes him feel—like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. It all feels so natural. And they never have those awkward moments because they both love these touches. Whenever yn touches him, he feels electricity buzzing through him, in a good way. His skin feels like jello and his heart is thumping loudly, His brain is all muddled with goo and sparkles.

He wants to treasure those moments forever and constantly wishes for more and more.

It was one of those rare evenings for Harry and Y/N, Where the world seemed to quiet down just for them. They had just finished with their midterms and needed this for the longest time. Dim yellow lights, a bottle of red wine sitting on the table, a soft record player playing in the background. Legs tangled under the blanket as Harry and Y/N sat closer to each other, just enjoying each other’s presence. The warmth of Yn’s body pressed against him felt like home.

Harry’s fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of Y/N’s hair, twirling it between his fingertips. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail — the curve of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry whispered, his voice low and soft, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile and cheeks already flushed because of wine, changed into a deeper shade of red at his words. “You always say that.” Slurred her words lightly.

“Because it’s true,” he murmured, leaning in closer, their faces just inches apart. His fingers gently tugging at her bottom lip, eyes flickering to her mouth. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of telling you that.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Y/N felt her heart race as Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with something deeper than just affection.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N tilted her head, her lips brushing against Harry’s in the softest kiss, testing the waters. It was brief- just a featherlight kiss- but enough to send a shockwave through him. Harry let out a quiet sigh, his hand moving to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, slow and tender. As he leaned in closer, Y/N gently pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, making it easier for them to get lost in each other. Suddenly, he realized what he had done.

Harry pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with surprise at his own action.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, his voice panicked. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing, but there was no trace of anger or discomfort on her face. Instead, she smiled softly, a warmth blooming in her chest at his sudden vulnerability. “No, Harry… It’s okay.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean—”

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted gently, her voice barely a whisper as she moved closer, her hand resting on his cheek. “It’s okay, I want this, I promise.”

Harry couldn’t quite grasp what was happening—it all felt too surreal, like something straight out of his dreams. Yet, here it was, playing out in real time. In the blink of an eye, Y/N tossed the blanket aside and straddled his lap. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt as she pressed closer to him, wanting to be as near as possible. Her fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his shirt, before cradling his face. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Harry was still trying to make sense of it all, but instinctively, his hands found their place—one tangling in her hair, the other resting gently on her neck.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions that had been simmering under the surface for so long. His lips were soft, and she could taste the faint hint of wine on them. Their lips molded perfectly, like it was meant to be. Time seemed to blur. It must have been five minutes, or five hours; neither of them knew. It was a heated blend of tongue, teeth, and lips.

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it. Harry pulled back, catching his breath, resting his forehead against hers. His heart pounded, blood rushing south; he was so hard, making him ache beneath her.

“Can I take off your top, baby?” He whispered, his breath warm against her jaw as he kissed and nipped at it.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmured, and that was all the permission Harry needed. He swiftly pulled off her shirt—his shirt—and eagerly ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin.

“So soft, your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his hands working behind her, unclasping her bra.

Her tits were a piece of art—Round, so full and perfectly perky. His large hands cup them, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers.

Now she sat only straddling him in her thin, barely there sleeping shorts; she could feel his hard cock beneath her, thick and throbbing, nudging her entrance. Her dampness was seeping through both of their shorts. A delicious remainder, how much she wanted him. He could feel her cunt fluttering around nothing, desperate for him.

Harry had to shut his eyes and take a few steady breaths as his chest rose and fell with anticipation. Slowly, he leaned forward, prepping light kisses along the curve of her breast. Y/N moaned softly, arching her back, giving him more access to her boobs. He latched onto her nipple, sucking lightly, while his free hand teased her other breast, tugging and rolling the sensitive nub. Y/N hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, writhing on his cock couldn’t help but start grinding, writhing on his lap.

"Feels good," she murmured, eyes closed as she gently took his glasses from his head and placed them on the couch next to them, her fingers threaded through his messy curls. His cock twitched beneath her, nudging her clit, and she could feel her body growing even wetter, soaking through the fabric that separated them. Harry kept switching between her breasts, his mouth worshipping each one as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through her core.

Making her more drenched

“Just like that, ride me Y/N” Harry growled, his voice low and demanding. His hands slid from her breast to her waist, guiding her movements. Making her move forward and backward, her clothed, dripping core dragged across his cock, making them both shiver with need. His tattoos peeked through as he finally tugged his shirt off, revealing his inked chest - abs flexing under the butterfly, the black ink stark against his flushed, heated skin.

Y/N's fingers trailed down, dragging her nails across his chest, loving the way his tattoos twisted beneath her touch. She leaned down, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Harry groaned, loving the possessiveness of it—her mark on him. He was hers.

“You’re doing so good, Angel” he murmured, nipping her ear. Harry was a complete mess beneath her. His eyes glossy, pupils blown away with lust, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips slick and swollen from their kisses. He looks so sexy, Y/N leaned forward, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, swallowing each other’s moans while increasing her pace.

He could not believe Y/N was on top of him, grinding against his cock, her sweet little moans filling the air. He was sure he’d reached heaven. He glanced down between them, seeing the wet patch her arousal had left on his shorts, mixed with his own pre cum.

As Y/N ground herself against him, her clit dragged over the thick length of his cock, and each upward motion had his tip grazing her entrance. The feeling made them both shiver. Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders as her eyes squeezed shut in bliss, her lip caught between her teeth, trying to hold back a whimper.

Harry slid his hand down, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow, tight circles, giving her that extra bit of pleasure she craved. “I want you to feel good, baby,” he whispered, his fingers working faster, determined to push her over the edge. His angel deserved to feel good.

Y/N threw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. “I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered meekly, her voice shaking. Harry quickened his pace, his fingers pressing into her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick and desperate.

Y/N cries out as her orgasm rips through her, the coil in her belly finally exploding, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She felt like she was floating—fireworks and butterflies all at once.

She has never cum so hard in her life. Her fingers never did the job, and vibrators were too boring for her.

Below her, she feels Harry twitching. He buries his face in her neck, biting down a patch of her skin to stifle his own moan as he reached the brink. Both arms wrapped around her waist, his eyes shut, loud and desperate whimpers falling from his lips.

“That’s it, honey,” Y/N cooed, her voice soft and soothing, threading her fingers through his damp curls as she continued to ride him. She could feel him shaking beneath her as his orgasm finally hit, releasing with a loud groan as his body went rigid. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as the bliss overwhelmed him completely. He felt like he was in paradise, his body melting into hers.

For a moment, they just stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hearts beating in sync, both of them coming down from their highs. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Harry let out a breathy laugh, looking for his glasses and placing them again on his face. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Y/N smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, loving how warm he felt under her touch. “And you’re a mess,” she teased softly, laughing with him. Harry grinned, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, but I’m your mess," he murmured, kissing her softly, the intimacy between them palpable.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle kisses. “I want this with you, Y/N” Harry whispered, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something for you. That I don’t feel this whenever I’m around you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as his words hit her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Harry pressed on, the confession spilling out of him like a flood. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin us. You’re my best friend, Y/N. The most important person in my life, and I was terrified of messing that up. But tonight... it just felt right. It always felt right with you.”

The air hung heavy between them, the weight of his confession pulling her down, making her chest tighten. Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had always felt something too—always pushed it aside, too afraid of what it would mean for them and for their friendship. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t run from it anymore.

Harry’s eyes softened behind his glasses, his heart racing a mile a minute. He had finally said it—the words he never thought he’d be able to voice, yet they spilled out of him because he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He had to tell Y/N everything.

But he still didn’t know if she felt the same, if she liked—no, loved—him back. And though the thought of her rejecting him terrified him, he was ready for it. His heart would shatter into a million pieces, but he would respect her decision, even if it meant she wanted him out of her life completely. It would hurt—of course, it would—but the idea of staying by her side and making her uncomfortable hurt even more.

He braced himself for her response, never expecting what she would say next.

“I love you, Harry. I think I’ve loved you for a long time... but I was too much of a coward to confess it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “All this time, I didn’t want to lose you, so I just... ignored it. But tonight? It meant everything. I want this with you too.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear.

“I always thought you had a thing for Emma from our sociology class,” Y/N added with a teary giggle, realizing how silly it sounded now.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. Emma? He had never thought of her as more than a classmate. His friends had mentioned once or twice that Emma might have a crush on him, but he’d never taken it seriously. His focus had always been on Y/N.

Before he could explain, Y/N cut him off. “But now I get it—you don’t like her. It was probably just my insecurities talking,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Baby, Y/N, look at me,” Harry gently commanded. “I had no idea you were worrying about all of this. Emma? I’ve probably spoken to her five times at most, and I don’t like her that way at all. You have nothing to be insecure about.” He cupped her jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, my angel. The only girl I love and care about.”

Harry's thumb continued to stroke Y/N's cheek gently, his eyes soft and unwavering as he held her gaze. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’ve never even thought about anyone else the way I think about you. It’s always been you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the insecurity that had weighed her down for so long now starting to lift. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry wasn’t finished. His other hand slid down to cradle her waist, pulling her more closer if that was possible. They were basically molded together.

“I love the way you say my name; I love how you play with my rings whenever you get nervous; I love the way you get excited over little things; I love the way you get grumpy whenever you are hungry; I love the way you look at me when you think I am not paying attention. And I love you; don’t ever want you to doubt that, okay?”

Y/N felt warmth flood her chest as his words washed over her. She’d spent so long overthinking everything, never realizing that Harry had been feeling the same all along.

She blinked back the last of her tears, smiling up at him. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion.

Harry pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. “Because you care so much,” he murmured against her skin. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension in her body melting away.

Harry resting his chin on the top of her head. “But now, no more hiding, yeah? No more overthinking or doubting. It’s just us now. I’m yours, and I’ve always been.”

Y/N tilted her head back to look at him, her smile widening as her fingers laced through his. “Just us,” she repeated softly.

Harry’s heart swelled as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice a gentle promise.

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pellucid-constellations · 4 months ago

Text

If You Cared to Ask

Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.

Part 2

“You never listen! I have tried over and over to get you to understand but it’s like you don’t even care.”

Azriel’s brow twitched in irritation, the only tell on his otherwise passive face. “That is not true. We have sat down and discussed this at length, y/n. I listen.”

You laughed, an incredulous pressure weighing down your shoulders. “Okay, fine. You listen, but you never hear me, Azriel! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall most of the time.”

“I can reiterate every word you’ve ever said to me. I hear you and I listen to you.”

Anger twisted through your gut at his nonchalance. You clenched and unclenched your fists and tried to ignore the heat slowly encroaching upon your ability to remain composed. Although, compared to Azriel, you were not even close to the picture of calm.

“Tell me why it bothers me then,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “Reiterate it for me, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw shifted as he clasped his hands together in his lap, the faelight in the kitchen clashing harshly with the planes of his face. He leaned back in his chair and let out a tortured sigh that almost sent you reeling.

“You seem to believe,” Azriel began, his voice a low drawl. “That I am blatantly avoiding you—that I am choosing to serve my high lord in place of spending time with you. Both of which, I am not doing. I simply have a duty to this court, y/n. You know that.”

“Oh, fuck you, Azriel,” you rolled your eyes. “Making this about duty and honor. Making me seem like I’m the crazy one for being angry when you promised me—”

“You know there is little I can do about promises,” Azriel snapped, a hint of anger finally showing through in the darkness of his eyes. “You knew when we were mated that I have responsibilities that go beyond our relationship.”

You pushed back from your seat at the table and set to pacing in the kitchen, fighting the urge to tug at the roots of your hair. “Yes, obviously, Azriel, but this was so important to me. I needed you there and this isn’t the first time I’ve been abandoned without even a word.”

“Abandoned,” Azriel scoffed. “I would hardly call not showing up to your clinic at the camps one day abandoning you. Rhys needed me to—”

“I needed you!” you shouted, your hands pressed to the countertops and your gaze frantic as you stared at Azriel’s unmoving figure. “I needed you, Azriel. I had every eye on me in that camp and when Devlon’s men had me yanked from the clinic for what I was doing I needed you to—”

“He did what?”

“Oh, don’t act like you care now.” You waved off the staunch posture he had adopted and rolled your eyes for a second time at the piercing hatred that had taken over his expression. “Don’t you dare act like you have the right.”

“You are my mate, y/n. If anyone put their hands on you—”

“Well, they did. Bruised up my arms and everything. But you were so busy with your duty to your high lord that you couldn’t give a shit until after I was thrown into the mud surrounded by the women I was supposed to be helping up there.”

Azriel’s hands turned white as he clenched them in his lap. His lashes fluttered and his brow furrowed and he looked utterly lost at the situation—unable to formulate any kind of response to what could be considered his failure.

“I thought you were simply setting up the back rooms. I didn’t know you were starting the practice or speaking to the camp,” he croaked, eyes downcast and searching the floor.

“Except I told you I was. I told you two weeks ago and then again right before I left.”

“I—I can’t remember you saying that.”

“Of course you can’t. Because if it isn’t Rhys giving you orders or Cassian leading training you’re absent. You stand right in front of me and you’re not even here.”

Azriel finally looked up from the ground and met your eyes with the same torture his sigh made you privy to earlier. But this time it was rooted in something else—this time, he seemed to finally grasp the weight behind your words.

But you were utterly sick of trying to get him to this point. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he expressed, pain in the furrow of his brow. “I hadn’t realized—with Rhys just returning to Velaris I’ve been so caught up in—”

“I’m sorry too,” you cut him off.

Azriel froze. “What?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the dread begin to rise. You knew you were going to hate this part, but you hadn’t expected Azriel to apologize. He hadn’t apologized for anything in months. You’d been alone in this relationship and he chose the day you’d packed your bags to show remorse.

“I can’t do this, Azriel. Not right now.”

“Can’t do what?”

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Azriel had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and you were on the other side of the kitchen counter, protected by a barrier you knew you should have put up weeks ago. Your eyes never left his.

“I can’t do this with you.”

Azriel breathed in sharply, his eyes widening. “No,” he stressed, heaving up from the chair. “No, y/n, don’t—what do you mean you can’t do this? Explain it to me.”

Your mate attempted to round the counter and reach for you, but you weren’t going to accept the affection…not when you had been begging for it for months. Not when he was only ready to give it to you now.

You backpeddled until you reached the hall. Azriel didn’t follow, afraid you would take off.

“I’ve been telling you this was a problem for months now. I thought it was just an adjustment period—I knew that having Rhys back would change things at first and I was okay with that. Your brother returned from hell and you needed to be there to support him. To support your family.

“But I’m your family, too. And you forgot that. I can’t—I can’t be relying on someone like that right now. I’m doing too much at the camps for you to… forget about me so easily. I can’t keep building you up in my mind just to be disappointed and hurt.”

Azriel's jaw quivered.

“Emotionally and physically. I would’ve asked someone else to come to the clinic with me yesterday, but I chose you. And you forgot about me.”

Azirel looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his shoulders caving in with his anguished breath out. You pressed your lips together as you watched him, all of your anger morphing into a twisted sort of guilt that didn’t sit right in your gut.

“Please,” Azriel whispered. His hands shook at his side. “Please, I’m so sorry, my love. I never wanted—Please, don’t leave me.”

“You don’t get to have both, Azriel.” Your voice was as weak as his. “You don’t get to have me and treat me like I’m something you deal with on the side. I matter more than—

Azriel shook his head and broke through your words. “You matter more than anything. I’ve been a fool. I know I’m an ass. Please, let me fix this, my love. Please don’t leave.”

You clenched your fists so hard your nails embedded into your palms.

“I need time to be alone.”

Azriel was quick to nod. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll leave and—”

“No, I need… more time than that. I have some things packed. I’ll be back, but… I need to leave. I can’t think clearly around you.”

A choked cry left Azriel’s throat and the sound burned at your waterline. “Where?”

You only shook your head.

“Tell me where. Please. How am I supposed to know you’re safe?”

“How were you supposed to know before?”

Part 2

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel

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rafecameronssl4t · 2 months ago

Note

the jarah pregnancy made me so happy, so i was thinking about thornton!reader finding out an unexpected pregnancy

Sweet Nineteen || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I was thinking the same thing 🤯

Warnings: vomiting, mention of drugs, r is pregnant at 19

Word count: 1,960

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The bile rises, thick and sour, up your throat, and you throw off the sheets in a panic, bolting to the bathroom. You barely reach the toilet before you’re heaving, clutching the rim as the wave of nausea overwhelms you. It takes a moment before you feel Rafe’s presence at your side.

Gently, he gathers your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail as he kneels down beside you. His hand is warm and steady on your back, rubbing small, comforting circles. “Fuck,” you mutter in a weak voice, feeling the bile burn again as you throw up once more. Rafe doesn’t flinch, just keeps rubbing your back, his touch grounding you.

“You okay?” he asks softly as you finally catch your breath, reaching out to flush the toilet. He sounds genuinely concerned. “I thought you don’t get boat sickness.” “Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before reaching for your toothbrush.

The cool water on your teeth and gums is a relief, and you close your eyes briefly, trying to shake off the dizziness. “Probably something bad I ate yesterday,” you add, glancing up in the mirror to meet his gaze. He’s watching you, his brow furrowed as he nods slowly, a hint of worry still lingering in his expression.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be nineteen in like…” Sarah pauses, glancing down as she counts on her fingers, her grin widening. “Ten hours,” she chuckles, nudging you playfully. You smile, popping a grape into your mouth. “I know, crazy, right?” you say, shaking your head. It feels surreal, like the year passed in a flash.

Before you can say anything else, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning, you spot Rafe and Topper strolling onto the sun deck, looking relaxed, almost too relaxed. But then the sharp scent of weed hits you, making you wrinkle your nose. You sit up from the sun bed, eyeing Topper with a grimace as you spot the joint hanging from his mouth.

“Are you smoking weed right now?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. Topper raises an eyebrow, the joint dangling as he gives you a smirk. “Yeah?” he replies nonchalantly, taking a slow, lazy drag, as if daring you to say more. Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. “Well, go smoke it somewhere else,” you mutter. “The smell’s making me sick.”

Topper holds your gaze, his expression shifting to mild confusion mixed with amusement. “What? Never bothered you before, sis,” he says, exhaling another plume of smoke, clearly finding this reaction from you entertaining. “Seriously, get the fuck out of here,” you groan, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth as a wave of nausea rolls over you. “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”

Topper’s smirk falters as he studies you, genuinely taken aback by your reaction. He glances at Rafe, clearly puzzled, as if to confirm whether this is real or just a joke. Rafe watches you, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he turns to Topper. “Just listen to her,” Rafe mutters, giving Topper a nod of silent insistence. With a sigh, Topper raises his hands in surrender, then stubs out the joint against the railing.

“Fine, fine. You didn’t have to ruin the fun,” he says, tossing the remnants aside. With one last look—half-amused, half-apologetic—Topper ambles off, leaving you Rafe and Sarah in a moment of silence. You exhale slowly, the nausea finally beginning to subside as the smell dissipates, while Rafe lingers, his gaze still fixed on you, as if silently checking to make sure you’re alright.

Did you take any medicine?” Rafe’s voice breaks the comfortable silence between you and Sarah as he strolls over, his expression softened with concern. He sits down beside you on the sunbed, his hand instinctively reaching for your thigh, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.“Yeah,” you reply, offering him a small smile. Sarah perks up at the exchange, her brows knitting together in curiosity.

“For what? Are you sick?” she asks, tilting her head with genuine worry. You shake your head, hoping to ease her concern. “I threw up this morning. I think I just ate something bad,” you explain, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. Sarah’s expression shifts to one of cautious relief as she slowly nods, her eyes lingering on you for a moment.

You glance at your watch: five minutes until midnight. The bathroom is quiet and dimly lit, but inside, your mind races as you stare down at the test, barely able to breathe. With trembling fingers, you turn it over, bracing yourself—and your heart stops. Two clear lines. Positive. Pregnant.

The air feels thick, each breath you take heavy with the weight of this sudden, life-changing truth. Pregnant at nineteen. You feel a tear slip down your cheek as the reality of it hits: the uncertainty, the responsibility, and the tiny spark of awe that stirs in your chest at the thought of the life growing within you. Who would’ve thought?

Just as you’re caught in the storm of emotions, you hear Rafe’s voice calling out to you from down the hall, his tone carefree and excited. “Babe, where are you?” Your heart skips, and with a surge of panic, you quickly hide the test in the drawer, wiping away the tears from your face. You glance in the mirror, dabbing beneath your eyes to make sure there’s no trace of the overwhelming emotion that just ran through you.

“Here!” you call out, doing your best to sound cheerful as you step out of the bathroom, forcing a smile onto your face. You walk toward Rafe, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gives you that familiar, comforting smile, his hands settling on your waist. “There you are,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He glances down at his watch, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“C’mon, three minutes until midnight,” he says, a spark in his voice as he takes your hand and starts leading you down the hallway. As he pulls you along toward the top deck, you can’t help but glance back at the bathroom door, where the test lies tucked away, as if leaving behind the secret that’s only just beginning to dawn on you.

The cool night air brushes over you as you step onto the deck, where Sarah and Topper are waiting, chatting and laughing under the glow of fairy lights strung around the railings. The ocean spreads out beneath you, dark and endless, stars reflecting off the gentle waves. You try to take it all in, hoping the beauty of the scene will settle the nerves still buzzing under your skin.

“What’s the time now—” you begin, but before you can finish, the sky bursts into a riot of color as the first firework explodes overhead. You gasp, your hand flying to your mouth in surprise as another spark ignites, followed by another, each one brighter than the last, painting the sky in shades of red, blue, and gold.

Your eyes widen as the fireworks continue to light up the night, each one booming and shimmering against the dark sky. The sight is breathtaking, yet you feel tears pricking your eyes again, overwhelmed by the moment, by the beauty of it all, and by the tiny life that only you know about.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe whispers close to your ear, his arms slipping around you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His warmth seeps into you, grounding you as you lean back against him, watching the fireworks burst above you. You turn in his arms, unable to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks, your emotions too strong to hide. Rafe’s face softens, his thumb brushing against your cheek to catch a tear.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern as his hands gently cradle your face. You hold him close, gathering the courage to tell him what you’ve only just discovered. Voice barely above a whisper, you lean in close, “I’m pregnant.” The fireworks continue to crackle overhead, and your words are nearly lost in the noise. Rafe pulls back, searching your face with a confused look. “What?”

A nervous laugh escapes you, and this time, you say it louder, “I’m pregnant, Rafe!” His face shifts, eyes widening as the realisation dawns on him. “You’re pregnant?” he repeats, his voice filled with awe, and you nod, unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he pulls you into a deep, joyful kiss, his hands cradling your face like he’s afraid to let go.

When he pulls back, he’s grinning, looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “We’re going to have a baby,” he says softly, almost as if he’s speaking to himself, still in shock but brimming with happiness. “What’s going on?” Sarah’s voice cuts through, and you both turn to see her and Topper walking over, eyes filled with curiosity.

You beam at them, feeling a rush of excitement at sharing the news. “I’m pregnant!” you announce, your voice trembling with joy. Sarah’s jaw drops, her hand covering her mouth as she lets out a squeal of excitement, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, y/n, are you serious?! This is amazing!” she cries, nearly bouncing with joy as she squeezes you.

Topper’s eyes go wide, his gaze shifting between you and Rafe with a grin spreading across his face. “Holy shit, dude! You’re gonna be a dad!” He claps Rafe on the back with enthusiasm, pulling him into a quick, celebratory hug as they both break into laughter. Rafe chuckles, patting Topper’s shoulder, a lightness in his expression that you rarely see.

“And you’re gonna be an uncle,” he replies, unable to hide the pride and excitement in his voice. Topper’s grin softens a little as he turns to you, arms wide open. “Congrats, sis,” he says warmly, pulling you into a tight hug. His embrace is solid and reassuring, swaying you back and forth as you both share a laugh. “Mom’s gonna be over the moon,” he says, chuckling as he releases you.

You smile, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. “You really think so?” A part of you can’t help but worry about how your parents will react to the news, especially given that you’re only nineteen. Their expectations have always been high, and this wasn’t exactly in their plans for you.

“Oh, trust me, I know so.” Topper’s eyes twinkle with a mix of reassurance and amusement. “She might put on a big act and pretend to be shocked, but deep down, she’s been waiting for this. She’s dreamed of being a grandma for years.” He gives your arm a gentle squeeze, his playful grin easing your nerves a little.

As you pull away from Topper, Rafe’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you close to his side. He looks down at you, his expression softening, and leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of wonder, as if he’s still trying to wrap his mind around it.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you as you snuggle into him, resting your head against his chest. “Me neither,” you reply softly, your voice filled with quiet happiness. “But I’m glad it’s with you.” Rafe’s arm tightens around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as the reality of it all settles between you.

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chuluoyi · 9 months ago

Note

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre/warnings: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

general masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

#zenin naoya x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #zen'in naoya x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #jjk naoya #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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tender-rosiey · 3 months ago

Note

Hey you lovely human :) Just dropped in to say I bumped into blog like yesterday and since then I ATE (almost) everything Gojo related (still have a couple left), like I genuinely am in LOVE with everything. If you are ever willing to take upon this idea, I was curious about how you see Gojo meeting his significant other and falling in love ? Would love to see the beginning of their relationship and how they ended up together. Thank you and since is already weekend here for me almost - i hope you have a gorgeous weekend!! ^^

creepy eyes — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: AHHH THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OMG TYYYYY and i am so sorry that i took so long </3 ANYWAY this is how I imagine gojo first meeting his wife cause i believe that it has to be before gojo closed off and that she became a trusted and close friend of his

it’s just another afternoon at jujutsu high, the sun bathing the grounds in a soft glow, casting long shadows as students hurry from class to class.

you’re deep in thought, focused on training, when you suddenly collide with something solid—or rather, someone.

you stumble back a step, blinking up at the towering figure now standing before you. you glance up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of eyes—bright, intense, and painfully blue.

the boy is about to say something, but you beat him.

“my god, your eyes are creepy,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

there’s a beat of stunned silence.

the giant’s mouth drops open slightly, his eyebrows raise in sheer disbelief as if you’ve just insulted the most precious thing in the world to him.

“my eyes?!” he gasps, hand flying dramatically to his chest. “you think my eyes are creepy?”

you nod, grimacing at the loud sound, “yeah, they're unnerving. kind of like staring into a bottomless pit.”

satoru is scandalized. “my eyes are beautiful!” his voice pitches higher, as if stating a fact that should be universally accepted.

he tilts his head closer to you and taking his glasses off, daring you to look again. “take another look! appreciate them!”

you squint, unimpressed, and simply shrug, brushing past him, “I’ll pass.”

that’s the beginning.

days turn into weeks, and the more you try to forget about that initial encounter, the more satoru won’t let you. every time you cross paths, it’s like he has a personal mission to make you take back that one insult.

whether it’s during training, at lunch, or in the hallway, satoru somehow finds a way to bring it up.

“you still don’t think my eyes are nice?” he asks, exaggeratedly crestfallen, peering at you with that playful gleam.

“yeah, still creepy.”

“but why?” he exclaims, leaning against the doorframe or sitting next to you with a theatrical sigh. “do you not see the sparkle? the beauty? the endless charm?”

it becomes such a regular thing that even suguru can’t help but get involved. he appears at satoru’s side, casually rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics, though a smirk plays on his lips.

“you’re still on about that?” geto quips. “maybe just accept that she has good taste, satoru.”

“oh, shut up, suguru! she’s just blind to my perfection!” satoru retorts, crossing his arms as he watches you chat away with shoko.

and so it goes. satoru’s relentless teasing—half playful, half desperate—starts weaving into the fabric of your days.

every time you think he’ll finally let it go, he’s right there, flashing that expectant grin as if waiting for you to finally give in.

months pass. the seasons start to shift, but satoru's persistence doesn’t.

he keeps bugging you about it—less often than before, but every once in a while, he'll find an opportunity.

whether it's during class or during a mission, he brings it up with that same confident, teasing smile.

it’s a lazy afternoon when it happens.

you’re outside, lounging against a tree in the sun with a book in hand, trying to relax after a mission when satoru flops down beside you, elbow nudging yours.

his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose as he grins at you. “still think they’re creepy?”

you don’t even look up from your book. “yup.”

he leans in, resting his chin on his hand, giving you that pout again. “come on, you’re just being mean at this point.”

you stifle a laugh, flipping a page. “am I?”

satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, “you’re impossible, you know that? these eyes are a national treasure.”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips this time. it makes satoru blink, clearly caught off guard by the sound.

he tilts his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he leans closer to your face. “wait… was that a real laugh? are you finally admitting I’m funny?”

you roll your eyes, looking away from him as you smile. “don’t push your luck.”

he grins widens at the sight of your smile, and he is about to boast of his achievement when you glance at him. with amusement still tugging at your lips, you reach out and push his sunglasses up with a playful tap.

“fine, fine,” you relent, voice teasing as you give him a small grin,“I think your eyes are very pretty.”

for once, satoru’s the one caught off guard.

he blinks rapidly, a flash of surprise flickering across his face as he pulls himself away and tries process your words.

your smile doesn’t falter, but satoru’s eyebrows furrow, before he chirps, standing up, “well—it’s about time you admitted that!”

your eyes widen, as he gets loud and starts ranting about his beauty, “it is only natural that you succumb to my charms! ahaha! my eyes are only one part of it!”

confused but having nothing to say, you lean back against the bark. you don’t mention out loud that his ears are tinted pink, not that satoru would give you the chance to call him out.

but you both know that something has changed.

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do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

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lemonlover1110 · 11 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Firefighter!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: A question has the power to ruin a whole marriage. After you ask if he's having an affair, Toji is so upset that he can’t look at you for too long. Until a tragedy happens and he’s reminded that he can’t fathom the thought of living without you.

Warnings: MDNI, firefighter!Toji, talks of cheating, house fire, silent treatment, hurt/comfort, smut, oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, choking, breeding kink, cream pie, shower sex, semi-public sex (fire station bathroom), pregnancy reveal (at the end)

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“I missed you, honey.” Toji plops down on the bed, throwing his arm over you. You bite down your lip, holding back tears as you think of the worst. Your husband is a firefighter, he’s always worked long irregular hours– But he feels distant lately, leading you to believe something is up. Something that’s heart wrenching, even if you’re just wrapping your head around it.

You really can’t help but think of the worst, even when Toji has shown you nothing but love. He’s the best husband you could ask for, yet you find yourself scrolling through his phone while he sleeps. The only thing that Toji’s done is work… Yet you wonder if he has someone else since he’s barely home. The fact that you’ve read how firemen cheat a lot doesn’t really help you either.

His thumb begins to caress your cheek before he whispers, “Are you asleep?”

You don’t answer, letting him believe that you are. He whispers the same three little words before kissing your forehead, making it infinitely harder for you to hold back your tears. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, holding back a sob as tears begin to stream down your face. You can’t fight them back no matter how hard you try.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asks, feeling your hot tears on his fingertips. “Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

“I’m fine.” You answer, turning so you’re not facing him. But it’s obvious that you’re not fine, if you were you wouldn’t be crying. Toji wouldn’t usually push you to tell him if you’re in a bad mood, but you’re crying so something is clearly wrong and he wants to help. He wonders if it’s something he did wrong, and if it’s that, he wants to fix it.

“Let’s talk so I can help you.” He sounds concerned, and you begin to feel dumb for crying. Toji pulls you close to him, kissing your shoulder, his hands going under your shirt so his thumbs can trace lazy circles on your skin.

“Toji…” You begin, and he patiently waits for your next words. Time feels eternal to him, wondering what’s bugging his precious wife. You sit up on the bed, taking a moment to gather your feelings. You don’t want to become a sobbing mess while speaking to him.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asks, following your lead and sitting up as well. He rubs your back, attempting to help you calm down. You take a deep breath before you spit the words out, knowing that dragging it out will make the moment even more interminable for the both of you.

“Are you having an affair?” The words are incoherent since you talk too fast. Toji furrows his brows, confused as to what you said. He asks you to repeat what you just said, slowly, and you regret repeating it so he understands.

“Am I…– What?” His face contorts, offended by the mere question. The mere thought would be a disgrace to Toji, and he’d repent a thousand times before thinking again. You bite your tongue, not daring to speak again. He scoffs, “This is… Unbelievable.”

“I’m sorry.” You don’t waste a second, but that doesn’t fix the mess that you just caused. You don’t know what you’ve just caused, it could just be the downfall of your marriage. Maybe any other time Toji would be understanding and reassuring, but you’re not seeing that he’s doing all this for you.

“Do you really think so little of me?” He begins and you frantically shake your head, wanting to make it clear that you didn’t mean it. Your words won’t leave your throat though, and that’s not helping your case. He scoffs again. “I devote my whole life to you, and this is what you ask me…”

“Toji, I– I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve just been seeing a lot of how firemen tend to cheat, and you’ve just been away lately so… I just thought–” You’re all over the place, and Toji grows even more annoyed with every sound that leaves your lips. He’d never think that he would feel like this about your voice, but he can’t stand to listen to it.

“So you just thought I’d be a dirty piece of shit and do that to you. Got it. So nice to see what the love of my life thinks of me.” Toji answers, standing up from the bed and grabbing his pillow. He can’t sleep next to you tonight. The couch will do for tonight… And for a couple of days after that.

Your bottom lip quivers as you think of how to stop him and how to properly apologize. You’re in the wrong, you know you are, but you can’t speak up. Toji sighs before he begins to walk out of your bedroom. You’ve had many arguments, but never did they end up with him walking out of your shared bedroom and going to the living room to sleep. He tries to talk it out before going to sleep, and if that doesn’t work, you sleep with your backs facing each other (even though in the morning you wake up cuddled up). He’s clearly upset, and you have no idea how to solve it this time.

He slams the door shut, and you blankly stare for a minute before laying back down on the bed. The crying doesn’t stop though, instead it gets worse since you know you’ve fucked up.

Toji leaves the kitchen and goes to the backyard when you begin to walk to him. He leaves his morning coffee on the counter, a hot cup that he just served to get his morning started. You didn’t expect him to react this badly but you understand. If he had accused you of cheating, you wouldn’t be too forgiving either.

A sigh leaves your lips knowing that your day just started but it’s already a shitty one. You pour yourself a cup of coffee before going to the glass sliding door to watch what your husband does. He cleans up anything that looks out of place, doing stuff that neither of you ever do.

You start off your day without speaking to each other, and you think of ways to make it up to him. Thankfully, you have all the time in the world to think about what to do, until you finally land on cooking his favorite meal and taking it to his job. He works a long shift today, and he didn’t pack anything to go. Knowing him, Toji will just end up eating instant or something of that sort. He’s content with it but you know he’d prefer something made by you.

So you cook something for him, one of his favorite meals, saving up the dish that he absolutely loves for dinner. You never really liked the saying that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but it’s fitting for Toji. You make an effort to dress up and look good for him– In other words, you’re doing everything in your power to make him happy with you again.

All eyes are on you when you get to the fire station. Toji seemingly didn’t hold back on your argument from last night, and you feel as if everyone is judging you. You can’t exactly be upset at him for it, you’ve been cursing yourself since last night for bringing it up. But you can’t help but feel insecure.

Lately you feel as if you’ve changed a lot from the woman that Toji loves, and the fact that he’s been working so much doesn’t really ease your nerves. Yes, you should’ve communicated with him better instead of straight up asking if he was having an affair, but you weren’t thinking straight when the question left your lips. It shouldn’t matter what they think anyway, you’re here to amend your problems, which half of their partners wouldn’t even bother.

You get to the kitchen, finding some of his co-worker but not him. Their eyes fall on the bag you hold, and they begin salivating at the mere thought of the food that’s inside. If Toji doesn’t want it, they’ll take it.

“Is he in the training room?” You ask after a simple greeting. They nod in response, and you put the bag on the counter. You point at it, warning them, “That’s for Toji. Don’t touch it unless he doesn’t want it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” They answer, mentally praying that Toji isn’t hungry– Or that he’s too mad that he rejects it. They don’t care about the cause, they just want to eat Toji’s food.

Just as you expected, Toji works out in the training room, wearing his uniform pants and a black undershirt. He lifts himself up, a grunt leaving his mouth which lets you know that he’s been at it for a while. You don’t mean to interrupt him, leaning on the door frame watching him workout. It’s a rare sight… And it’s certainly doing something to you. You feel your face and body get warm, erotic thoughts filling your mind.

You force yourself to look away, you’re here to apologize to your husband, you can’t let other thoughts fill up your mind. Your main and only focus is getting Toji to forgive you. You end up clearing your throat, and Toji’s eyes land on you. He lets go.

“Why are you here?” He doesn’t bother to greet you. Your presence isn’t welcome today, at least that’s what he makes it sound like. He needs time away from you to calm down and gather his thoughts, but he can’t exactly do that with you here. “Are you keeping tabs on me now?”

“I’m just dropping lunch off for you, Toji. Nothing else.” You answer. You bite down your lip, knowing you should say more; you should apologize. You have no idea why, but apologies are so fucking hard. You know you’re in the wrong, but no matter how horrible you feel, admitting you’re wrong just doesn’t come easy. You did it last night without a problem, but today it’s hard.

“Is that all?” He asks, and you shake your head. You have more to say, you just have to take a moment before saying it. Toji watches you, waiting for your apology.

“I’m sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn’t have said that.” You say, and Toji isn’t satisfied with the answer. You shouldn’t have just said that, the thought shouldn’t have even crossed your mind. “I don’t know what came over me… I just feel so insecure as I get older and change. I’ve been changing in so many ways, and I feel so different from the woman that you once fell in love with.”

“And you just thought that I’m so horrible that the slightest change would make me look for someone else?” He’s getting even more upset. You have valid reasons to feel the way you’re feeling, and he partially understands but Toji can’t find himself to tell you that he somewhat gets it. He just hates that you even thought he’d do something like that to you when he would burn the world just to see you smile.

“It’s not like that, Toji—“ You take a deep breath. “I’ve just been in my head, and you’ve also been working a lot and I’ve felt you distant which doesn’t really help… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t understand how upsetting it is to hear my own wife say that. I’d do just anything for you and–” He begins but he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence. An exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he shakes his head. “I need time. Just leave. I’ll see you at home.”

“Toji…” You begin, but you end up nodding. “I left some food for you in the kitchen. Love you.”

He hums in response, going back to his work out. Now that stings.

Toji regrets giving his wife the silent treatment the moment there’s an emergency in his home. His heart completely stops beating for a moment, regretting not talking to you for a couple of days. He feels as if the firetruck moves slower today, which makes him want to get out and run to you to assure your safety.

A million thoughts run through his head, wondering what happened. But that’s not what bothers him the most. The thought of your last interaction ending in you telling him you love him and him not answering back will haunt him forever. If something happens to you, he’d never forgive himself.

There’s a couple of neighbors huddled up outside, watching the flames that are on the left side of the house. Toji doesn’t really have time to watch, he runs into the house to search for you. He feels as if his heart is in his throat, ready to leave his body until he finally finds out. You’re passed out on the bathroom floor but thankfully away from the fire.

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you out. He gets you to the paramedics, and stays by your side, knowing that everything else is under control. Time goes so slow yet so fast while the paramedics check you, and while you’re out of danger, he’s more nervous than before. The saddest tears spill from his eyes, yet they hold so much relief when he’s assured that you’re okay. The situation could’ve ended much worse, but thankfully you’re okay.

Toji has many questions about the situation, wondering what could’ve possibly happened for you to pass out on the bathroom floor like you did. But he doesn’t worry about the details, he doesn’t care that half of his house is burned, he’s just happy that you’re safe. Your safety is all that matters.

When you gain consciousness, you’re bombarded with love from Toji. Toji is off work for a week to make sure that you’re okay, after all, you did faint in the bathroom which caused half of your home to burn down. Toji’s love is weird though, at least compared to before. Toji isn’t verbal with his love, he shows it to you physically. However, the week that he stays by your side, Toji doesn’t touch you in any way.

Toji views you as fragile, even though you assured him that you were okay after going to the hospital. It’s as if he doesn’t believe you when you tell him that you’re okay, and it irks you. Maybe it irks you more than it should because whenever you try to initiate something with him, he turns you down.

When you kiss his exposed shoulder, hugging his waist from behind, giving him some sort of hint that you need to feel his touch, he stops you. He cuts you off with a yawn, telling you that he’s too tired to do anything. It leaves you frustrated in so many ways– Not having sex isn’t the part that annoys you the most, it’s the fact that Toji is coddling you.

Toji doesn’t let you do anything he considers mildly dangerous, and he won’t talk about any topic that might upset you. Your argument before the fire hasn’t been resolved yet since he dismisses it every time you try to apologize for it.

Toji acts as if he’s guilty of something but he’s done nothing wrong.

“What are you doing here?” Toji asks. Last time he said similar words, his tone was harsher, his anger clear, but right now he’s concerned. Did something happen? You look fine as you sip on some tea… He just can’t wrap his head around as to why you’re here.

“I think we should have a talk.” You answer. Maybe this could have waited until later, but he’s on a twenty four hour shift and you feel as if your thoughts are getting the best of you again. You watch as everyone scatters out of the kitchen, sensing that the topic that you’re going to talk about is something serious.

“You’re just here to keep an eye on me, huh?” He jokes, followed by a lighthearted chuckle. You roll your eyes and he begins to walk away, “I’m going to take a shower, we can talk at home.”

You stand up, following behind him, calling out to him, “Toji, c’mon. We both know that you’re not going to talk when we’re at home. It’s quick.”

Your words go ignored. Toji gets to the men’s bathroom, practically shutting the door in your face. You cross your arms, staring at the door. He knows you’re too much of a prude to enter the men’s room. You think about how Toji only takes ten minutes in the shower, but you have a feeling that he’ll take at least an hour today. You think about leaving– But no, you’re going to talk to him now. Whether he likes it or not.

You look both ways before barging into the man’s bathroom, and you feel your face get hot, embarrassment taking over you the moment you step a foot inside. There’s luckily no one inside, so you have no reason to actually be embarrassed. You lock the door behind you before looking for Toji. Your ears follow the sound of the water droplets that hit the ground until you land on the closed curtain.

“Toji.” You call out his name, yet he doesn’t answer. If it’s not him, you could crawl into a hole and die of shame, but you know it’s him. There’s no one else in here. “Toji Fushiguro, I swear–”

You shut your eyes before you take a deep breath. You begin to get undressed, getting more and more irritated by the second. Once you’re completely bare, you open the shower curtain and enter the shower. You almost squeal at the cold water, but you get used to the feeling quickly. He lets out a low laugh when he feels your arms wrap around him, feeling your warmth behind him.

“You should warn a guy. I almost punched you but then I felt a pair of boobs press against my back.” Toji says as you press a kiss on his wet back. He heard you call out his name, he knew it was you. Toji isn’t deaf even though he loves to pretend like he is hard of hearing.

“I’ll fucking kill you. I called out your names a couple of times.” You tell him. He’s smiling as he turns around to face you. He kisses the top of your head as you hug him tight, and it feels like the first touch you’ve gotten from him after some time. It makes you feel warm inside, a smile unwillingly coming to your lips. “Now you have to talk to me.”

“Isn’t that what we do daily.” Toji answers, and your bottom lip sticks out.

“About serious matters, Toji.” You respond, and a sigh leaves his lips. He can’t escape this– Although he isn’t exactly upset with the situation. “C’mon. I’m fine, am I not? We can talk. You were upset before.”

“Yeah… But I overreacted.” He replies. He had the right to be upset, but he regrets not saying that he loves you back. He can’t forgive himself for almost letting your last real interaction end with him just humming when you told him you loved him. “You tried to talk to me and I was… A little bitch.”

“A little bitch, really?” You can’t help but giggle. He could’ve used any other words to describe himself. “I’m glad you came to your senses.”

“But look what had to happen for me to use my brain.” Toji’s fingers caress your back. You press a kiss on his chest before your hands go to the back of his neck, pulling his head down so you can kiss his lips.

“You were rightfully upset… You did drag it out a bit though.” You tell him, and he laughs. He did. He had your perspective and he still treated you harshly. He can’t help but think that this whole incident wouldn’t have happened if he treated you better in that moment. He also thinks that you’re hiding something from him about your health because last time you were honest with him, he had a bad reaction.

“Are you really okay, though? Is there anything wrong with your health?” He asks, and you shake your head in response. It’s the truth, you’re more than okay. But it isn't so easy to believe that, after all, you wouldn’t have fainted if your health was completely fine.

“I’m more than okay.” You reassure him. You press your lips against his again. “Why are you so… Distant?”

“What do you mean distant?” He furrows his brows in confusion. If anything, he’s closer to you than ever. You bite down your lip before you say,

“This is the longest you’ve held me ever since our argument… You don’t try to touch me anymore.”

“I…” He begins, and you watch his eyes tear up. You didn’t mean for that to happen. You peck his lips, hoping that it’ll make the tears go away. He smiles before telling you, “I’m just an idiot.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You ask him. He can’t bring himself to say it. He felt too guilty to touch you. He could’ve avoided it all. A simple kiss just takes him back to that moment– He feels unworthy of you and of your touch. But right now he feels different. He should’ve told you he loved you back. All his hopes and dreams with you almost slipped away, and he’s at fault for that. He hums in response, that’s all he’s willing to share.

“Did you lock the door before coming in here?” He changes the topic. A mischievous look comes to your face, which is the answer to his question. He doesn’t waste a second before his lips land on yours, his tongue moving past your parted lips and into your mouth. You pull him closer to you as your tongue presses against his.

Toji’s hand goes down and grabs a handful of your ass before he practically pushes you against the wall of the shower. The kiss gets more heated by the second, and every ounce of shame leaves your body as you feel his hot hands on your now cold body. He manages to set your body on fire even in such cold water.

“I need you so badly.” You mutter when he pulls away from your lips, kissing your jaw following down your neck. His hands fondle your breast as your hand goes down to his erection. Even in cold water you get him so fucking hard. His index finger and thumb pinch one of your nipples, while he kisses down your neck and to your chest. His mouth wraps around your other nipple, and he sucks.

You begin to stroke his cock, eager to feel him inside of you. You need his touch now more than ever. You’re needy. Toji’s hand goes down to your cunt, two fingers running through your folds, making your thighs squeeze out of pure excitement. Toji unlatches, getting down to his knees to do what he should’ve done a long time ago.

He kisses your clit before his tongue runs through your folds. He’s fucking missed your taste– And the way you softly moan when his tongue moves on your cunt. His tongue focuses on your clit while two of his fingers tease the entrance of your cunt.

He pushes two fingers in, making a breathy moan leave your lips. Your hand slaps over your mouth, remembering the place you’re at. They can’t hear you, you’re safe, but panic still sets in. Toji stops flicking your clit to tell you, “I need to hear you, baby. Want you to be loud.”

“Not here, Toji.” You whisper, cut off by a moan as his fingers curve so they brush against your sweet spot. Toji’s mouth doesn’t waste time going back to your cunt, quickly getting used to the taste and not being able to stay away from it for too long. You can’t help but mutter, “You’re doing so good– Fuck…”

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji does everything in his power to make you feel on cloud nine. The best way he knows how to apologize. You can’t argue with it, not when you’re on the verge of screaming his name because he’s making you feel so good.

He’s working you up, leading you up to your climax. The pressure on your lower abdomen builds up and just as your release nears, he pulls his fingers out, leaving your cunt to clench around nothing. He rises from between your legs, his lips messily kissing yours again.

“Need to feel you around me, baby.” Toji’s voice and actions are filled with desperation. You can’t judge him because you feel the same way. Toji runs the tip of his cock through your folds before reaching the entrance. He slaps the tip on your cunt, teasing you. He would almost make you beg for it, but he can’t wait any longer. He slowly pushes himself in, hissing as he feels your cunt take him in.

He gives you a moment to adjust to the sudden change before he begins to thrust in and out of you. You’re struggling, holding back moans in the back of your throat. It’s hard when his cock feels so perfect inside of you.

“It’s so good, Toji.” You’re so quiet, he fucking hates it. He loves when you’re loud, letting him know just how good you feel because of him. It’d be so embarrassing for his co-workers to hear, but fuck, is it painful to not hear your sweet voice.

Toji’s hand goes to your throat, lightly squeezing. His index and middle finger go up and reach your lips, and as soon as your mouth slightly parts, the two fingers enter your mouth. His lips go down to kiss your shoulder before he bites down. He can’t help but tell you, “You feel so perfect around me, baby.”

“Toji-” You sound so pathetic. He wants to hear you scream his name, but he knows you won’t. It’s surprising that you’re even doing this with him. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, moving them down to play with your clit. You moan his name again, but louder.

“Need to tell you how much I love you.” Toji’s lips go to your ear. He moans in your ear as he feels your cunt squeeze around him, and fuck, he knows he won’t last long. You’re just so nice and warm around him, he swears this is heaven. “Need to give you all my cum, baby. You’d like that? You want my cum, baby?”

“I need your cum, Toji.” You begin to squeeze around him. Toji loves to tease you about knocking you up, and it always riles you up. You shut your eyes as your hands go into his shoulders and your nails dig into his soft flesh. You’re so close to your release.

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll knock you up.” He watches your face filled with pleasure. It’s taking everything in him to not lose control.

“Toji!” You see white, reaching your climax. He holds on to you as your legs become weak for that moment.

He keeps moaning into your ear and telling you, “Need to knock up your sweet little pussy.”

His thrusts become unregulated. He doesn’t want to stop now but he does have to go back to work before an emergency pops up. He wishes he could spend all day beside you, making you feel so good. Toji finally moans your name, as his warm cum fills you up.

You spend a moment in silence, hearing the water hit the ground before he pulls out. You quietly clean yourselves up, and you almost gag knowing that you’ll be smelling like a three-in-one old spice body wash for the rest of the day.

“How am I going to sneak out of here, Toji?” You ask when he turns off the faucet. He shrugs in response. Maybe getting in the shower with him wasn’t the best idea. Your wet hair is a dead giveaway at the fact that you were doing something that you weren’t supposed to be doing.

Toji gives you the towel that he was going to use, while drying himself up with the towel that was meant for his hair. He picks up your clothes from the floor, setting them down on the sink. “Just ignore them. We weren’t the first people to do this, and I doubt we’ll be the last.”

“It’s still embarrassing.” You respond, and Toji furrows his brows in confusion before a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Good thing it wasn’t my idea. Let me remind you that you came in uninvited. Plus, they should be understanding since half of our house is getting renovated.” Toji answers, making you roll your eyes. Your bedroom and bathroom is still intact, it’s really no excuse.

“Yeah, whatever.” You aren’t exactly too upset since things are back to being somewhat normal. You begin to put your clothes back on, as Toji mindlessly watches you. You tilt your head to the side before asking, “Is everything okay?”

“I know I’m all talk and shit about knocking you up but…” He begins, and it’s an unexpected topic. You’re fighting back a smile as you hear him say, “Don’t you want to start a family soon?”

“Oh, Toji.” You finish putting on your shirt, stepping closer to him and kissing his cheek. It's a weird response… Is that a yes? He thinks so at least. “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

“Huh?” He’s scared of what you’re going to say next. “What…?”

“When I went to the doctor, there wasn’t anything wrong with me exactly… Nothing concerning.” You begin, and he grows impatient as he waits for you to get to the point. “I was feeling dizzy and all while cooking so I thought going to the bathroom and washing my face real quick would help me, but I fainted.”

“Yeah, I know that. You’ve told me a couple of times.” He interrupts you since he’s too impatient. “What are you keeping from me?”

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt out, and Toji’s eyes widen. Are his ears deceiving him? He stares at you in shock for a moment before you repeat, “I’m pregnant, Toji.”

“I–” He’s speechless. He can’t say anything, but he can wrap his arms around you and kiss all over your face. This news is the best news he’s gotten in his life– Sure he was expecting this to happen a couple months into the future, but he certainly isn’t upset about it. He tells you over and over again, “Thank you, my love.”

You were worried about his reaction because your life isn’t all that ideal right now, but he’s over the moon. And so are you. Toji’s nose is nuzzled in the crook of your neck as he holds onto you. He holds still for a moment, until you finally tell him, “Go put on some clothes, Toji. Half of your dick is still hanging out.”

“Wait for me so I can escort you out.” He responds. It’s like he wants to parade you after fucking you in the bathroom.

He smirks at you. That’s exactly what he wants to do.

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