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bookshelf-dust · 5 months ago

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promise to take care of my heart

carmy berzatto x fem!reader

gif by @emziess

word count: 1,830

warnings: nothing? a little swearing, but this is pure fluff and that’s all

synopsis: carmy wants to cuddle with you for the first time.

a/n: hi! new character, i know. but i’ve become rather attached to carm in the past few months and i had a cute idea for him and here we are. he’s bringing me so much comfort right now and now i’m gonna share that with you <333

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“Why don’t you pick out a movie or somethin,’ bub?”

“If I could find your damn remote, Carm, I would.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes on his hands where they sit deep in the dishwater below. Good luck, he thinks.

You scan the coffee table, the rug below the shabby couch. It’s not like there’s any use checking the tv stand because it’s still a fucking table tray. You know he doesn’t even own the full set of four table trays? He’s just got the one? That knowledge keeps you up at night. Just like how he doesn’t have a ceiling fan pull and has to get tweezers to change the speed.

You find the remote nestled in a stack of freshly organized books. You helped Carmen assemble a very simple bookshelf so that his stash of cookbooks wouldn’t have to live on the floor anymore.

Just getting to help him turn his apartment into something other than a place to sleep brought you a contagious giddiness. Carmen’s chest aches with how much he’s laughed since he met you.

Look at all my muscles, Carm. I’m practically ready for my dick now, don’t you think?

Where’d you even get these? He’d looked down at the little allen wrench in your hand and said I don’t know, they were just here one day.

Now you have a bookshelf, Bear. What a grown up.

Carmen wouldn’t let you help him with the dishes after he cooked you dinner. He’d just kissed your shoulder and said, “Let me take care of it, alright?” with that little raise of his brows and quirk of his lips telling you not to argue because you’d never win.

And when Carmen tells you to let him take care of something, well…you listen.

You haven’t been dating very long, but it’s been enough that you’ve both developed this rhythm, this way of moving around and with each other and you just…work.

He doesn’t understand how you can dial his shyness, his hesitance, so quickly, how you can make him feel like a human again so easily. But you do.

You settle against the back of the couch, flipping through the tv guide (because Carm has never subscribed to any streaming services) until you find something worth listening to. It’s already a few minutes in, but you’ve seen the movie enough times that it doesn’t really matter.

The overhead light in the kitchen switches off and Carmen pads out to the living room, socked feet dragging on the hardwoods. Your biggest pet peeve is people who don’t pick up their feet, but somehow it’s more tolerable when it’s him.

He sits down on the edge of the couch. Just sits. On the edge. That means he wants to say something. You give him the time to psych himself up.

Carmy chews on his thumb nail and rubs his nose before he turns to you, placing his hand on the couch. His blue eyes burn into yours, and the intensity of his gaze, trained on you, makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

“H-hey, um…can we—could we snuggle, maybe?” He flushes at the fact that he just used the world snuggle. Richie would have his ass so quick if he’d heard him say that.

Your grin is brilliant. You’ve never cuddled properly with Carmen before. Maybe a head on a shoulder or a leg tossed across another, but never a real cuddle session. “Fuck yeah, we can, Carm.” You giggle and the sound softens that bubble of fear in his chest.

He bites the inside of his cheek, letting out the barest laugh.

“How did you want t-to lay, Bear?” You blink at him. “Were you just gonna—”

He starts to nod. “I was just gonna lay on your chest, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Y-yeah.”

You snort. “Lemme’ stretch out for you and then you can be a teddy bear.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” Carmen shakes his head at you. He lets you pull that shit because he likes it. Secretly.

When you have a pillow under your neck and are laid out on your back, Carm slips beside you against the back of the couch and clumsily settles on top of you. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything, so he settles between your legs, only allowing the weight of his torso to envelop you.

One arm wraps around your back, the other cradling your hip, his curls brushing your chin. He turns his head to face the tv and lets out a satisfied sigh.

On instinct your hand threads through his tangled hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sorting through any piece that feels knotted.

“What is this?” Carmy asks, nodding in the direction of the screen.

“The Wedding Planner. It has Jlo and Matthew McConaughey in it.”

“Chick flick?”

You hum in agreeance. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t hate it. Jlo’s character is like you but if the restaurant was a wedding planning business and you were, you know, a chick.”

He laughs lightly against your stomach and you can feel the puff of air over your shirt.

The weight of Carmen’s body on top of yours is easily the most calming feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can’t get enough of him.

“This okay?” you ask, scratching his scalp a little more for emphasis. This is a new way of showing affection. Uncharted territory.

“Hm?” He looks up at you briefly, blue eyes fluttering closed. “Oh yeah, feels nice. I like it.”

You grin and continue to play with his hair. He’s right. It does feel nice. It is.

The next few minutes go by without any conversation, just silence. But it’s so comfortable. Carmen’s tired gaze is on the tv. You can feel him breathing, feel the way he scratches over your back absently. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it, but he nuzzles his nose against the soft of your stomach every now and then like it’s keeping him safe.

“You know I thought about being a wedding planner?”

Carmy pushes up onto his elbows, looking at you with the smallest smirk playing on his lips. “Really?”

You playfully bat at his shoulder and he moves to lay back down, but not before pressing a kiss to your sternum over your shirt. “Mhm. Still think about it sometimes.” You pause, but Carm doesn’t say anything yet because he knows you aren’t finished with that thought.

“I guess I just thought it’d be nice to help put things like that together? The organization would make me feel…complete, I guess. And you know I don’t like to help people in such an extroverted way? I like to be behind the scenes.” You laugh, a little self-deprecatingly. “Does that make sense?”

Carmen squeezes your side. “‘Course it does. And then you could come home and tell me stories about all the family drama you eavesdrop on.”

You giggle, and Carmy loves that he can feel it where he lays on your chest. He can feel your joy, and that’s fucking cool. “That I could.”

He rubs your back in small, gentle circles. “And you know, I happen to have some friends who make pretty good food and would be happy to help if you ever needed.”

“Oh, do you? Well, that’s very helpful, Mr. Berzatto. You’ll have to give me their number.”

Carmy laughs into your chest. A pure, genuine laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, and you truly think you’d have it tattooed all over your body if that was even remotely possible. His glee makes you laugh, and then you’re both snickering like you’re teenagers doing something that’ll get you in big trouble.

You reach for his hand, the one that’s resting on your hip now, and he lets you lift it towards your face. He bites his cheek, fighting the smile that rises when you press your warm and chapstick covered lips to his knuckles.

“You have such pretty hands, Carmy.”

He pinches your back. “I still don’t get why you’re so fascinated by them.”

“Because they’re pretty. And, look—” You hold yours up to his. “—they’re so much bigger than mine. And I like your tattoos, obviously. I like that I know how talented you are with your hands and how capable. I’m very lucky to hold such capable hands, Bear.”

“Capable, huh?” He gives you a look, one that makes you want to both tackle him and smack him on the arm. Instead you roll your eyes and he raises up to kiss you.

“Capable of being the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”

Carmy laughs. It’s that little chuckle, light and airy and like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but he wants to hear more anyway. He flops back down on your chest, making you let out a rather loud oomph.

You take Carmen’s hand in yours again, rubbing over the dry patches on his knuckles, the scabs on the insides of his fingers, the scar on his palm. His whole life is written in these hands.

You start massaging the pads of his fingers without even thinking about it. No one’s ever been that gentle with him—definitely not with his hands—and a little part of him melts at the feeling.

You kiss the tattoo on the back of his hand and just look at his skin. You’re determined to memorize each line and freckle and fucked up cuticle he’s got.

“At least your nails don’t look like Richie’s, Carm.”

His chest moves with the giggle that travels throughout his body.

“Trust me, they didn’t look like that when he was still with Tiff.”

You grin, your eyes falling back on the television. Maybe Carm would be open to setting it on the bookshelf? That table tray has put in a lot of work. It deserves a break.

Carmen can see why you’re so fond of this movie. It’s one of those that doesn’t require much thought, that has humor and feels more human than most. He knows he shouldn’t think it, but you having said what you said before makes him wonder if you’ll plan your own wedding…with him.

Shut the fuck up, he tells himself. But maybe we’ll get there.

You catch him smiling when they fuck up the statue in the garden and pretend not to notice. You both keep quiet now, but Carm reaches up and puts your hand back on his head.

Your fingers thread through his curls again, scratching at his scalp gently. Your other hand does the same thing to his back. You know it’s going to lull him to sleep.

When you say it, he’s already dozed off. But you are so happy that you get to make him feel safe. That he’s comfortable enough to sleep on you like this. Lucky is an understatement.

“Thank you for letting me in, Bear. I don’t think my life has ever been this beautiful.”

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please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

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violentdelights-violentendss · 8 months ago

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When BSD men have to carry you.

Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men

In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨

Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.

Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!

Edogawa Ranpo

You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.

Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.

The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.

“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”

“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.

“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.

Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.

You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.

Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.

“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.

As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.

Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.

The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.

He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?

The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.

He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.

“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.

Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”

Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.

Osamu Dazai

You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.

The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.

“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.

Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.

“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.

Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.

You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.

“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”

“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.

“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.

“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.

“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.

Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.

The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Yes, please.”

Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.

Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.

“Hey, (Y/N),”

“Yes?”

“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”

“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.

“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”

You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.

Doppo Kunikida

The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.

You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.

Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.

Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.

Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.

“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.

“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.

Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.

You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.

You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.

“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.

Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.

Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”

Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.

You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.

“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.

“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.

“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.

You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.

The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.

Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.

Yukichi Fukuzawa

The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.

The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.

The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.

You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.

You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”

“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.

“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”

“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.

Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.

As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.

“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.

You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.

When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.

The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.

At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.

Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.

“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.

Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.

As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.

“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.

Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.

Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.

“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.

“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.

“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.

“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.

You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.

Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.

The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.

“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.

“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.

“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.

Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.

Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.

Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.

When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.

“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.

Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.

“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.

“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.

You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.

It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.

Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.

You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.

Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.

Nakajima Atsushi

Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.

When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.

You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.

You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.

As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.

“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.

You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #rampo x reader #fukuzawa x reader #fyodor x reader #kunikida x reader #atsushi x reader #akutagawa x reader

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eccentricwritingbaby · 8 months ago

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baby finn series, house divided

dad!lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series masterlist

summary - yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral

masterlist

finn norris, yours and landos bubbly pride and joy, was turning three this sunday - subjecting his birthday to a race day. finn had obviously grown up along the track with his dad and all his colleagues and friends which led him to adore and fall in love with the sport that is formula one - scaring the living daylights out of you in his passionate displays of love for the dangerous activity at such a young age. not only was finn bouncing off the walls when lando informed him of where his birthday would be held, he was jumping, shaking and yelling with excitement as the race track was his favorite place on earth.

“finn, baby, calm down,” you chuckled while giving lando a glance. you both were sat on the couch with your son in front of you in order to tell him the wonderful news. now your adorable little almost three year old was racing around screaming with joy.

lando let out a laugh as well and reached for his son, “if you’re excited about spending your birthday on the track you’ll also be very excited about my other surprise for you,” finn looked up at his father with those same crystal blue eyes and whispered as if it was to himself, “anotha’ supwise?” lando and you share another small laugh at his wonder as he proceeds to get your son his gift. you take this moment to sweep up your still giggly son into your lap and give him a few quick kisses to the top of his head. those delicious baby laughs were all you heard as you felt his face snuggle further into your arms. lando returns as swiftly as he left, yet this time he appears with a large box in his arms. your boy wiggles in your hold until you release him to crawl towards his father. once settled on your husband's lap, lando begins to aid him in opening the bright papaya colored box, leading to your understanding of the exact contents in seconds. lando was always getting sent items from fans that were miniature, or receiving pint-sized merch from mclaren all for his mini me which both of you just doted over. once the wrapping paper and tissue paper were thrown enough around your living room, finn finally poked his head into the box and came out with a frown.

“you don’t like it, bud?” lando softly questions while his eyebrows begin to furrow. “‘s not wed, dada,” your son responds as he eyes his father, confusion listed on all of your faces.

“baby, why would you want your outfit to be red for your birthday? don’t you want to cheer on daddy?” you attempt to understand the little boy by posing the questions but he simply just whips his head around to you even more confused.

“i cheer dada in wed!” his eyes begin to gloss over and you can already feel a temper tantrum about to stir, yet one look over to lando and you understand that both your boys may need a minute to cool down.

“okay finn, why don’t you pick out what you want to bring on the trip? i’ll be right in to help baby,” you reply cautiously as you lift him out of lando’s arms, around the forgotten papaya box, and in the direction of his room.

“otay, momma!” finn shouts as his little legs attempt to quickly take him into his room down the hall. once the tiny steps disappear, you turn to look at your other baby.lando sits on the couch with a blank stare as his hands ring together in front of him.

“he wants to support ferrari, love. not his own father,” lando’s head falls as he speaks and you land on the couch cushion next to him, beginning to run your hand up and down his back. even though finn was born while you both were young and unsure of how to raise a child together, since you were children yourselves, lando was consistently one of the best fathers you had seen. he let the third driver take his seat for a month and a half in order to be a dedicated father and bond accordingly with your son. he doted over you and your needs no matter what the cost or occasion. and overall he cherished approval, whether it be in the bedroom, the track, or parenthood. lando is confident, yes, but he will always want the confirmation that he is doing his best, and that his best is enough - which it is always more than. therefore, you could tell that his son not wanting to support his team, and by partisan him, has led him to conclude that he is not a good racer, role model, or father - and you needed to stop those lies from invading his head.

“lando, he’s two - almost three, he probably just likes the color and wants to wear it,” you reply to his heart heavy confession.

“no he wants to support his uncle carlos, who has been winning and been on all the podiums - oh except for when he was in the hospital having a surgery,” the ending of his small reply held a bitter tone which you knew was not jealousy. lando and carlos are especially close, he is beyond happy and proud of his friend who he knows deserves his winnings, but you could understand the envy appearing when his son is preferring him over his dad.

“lando, it doesn’t matter what team he wants to support, that is your son. and he worships the ground you walk on. trust me. i am with him all the time,” you continue with a chuckle and a funnier tone as you begin to recite the words your son always speaks to you, “it’s always, ‘when’s dada coming home?’ ‘i want dada to tuck me into bed’ ‘can i drive like dada when im older’ and so on. lando, he loves you - you know that. don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. he is three, his intentions are pure,” as you end your speech, lando begins to raise his head looking into your eyes.

“i know, love. it just sucks i guess,” he lets out a quick sigh along with a shrug and meets your eyes again, “you’re still wearing papaya, right?” slight anxiety in his higher pitched question and you begin to laugh, “yes, love, i will always be in your color,” you reply as he hums and leans into your embrace, reaching down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. just as you pull apart you can hear the quick little pitter patter of feet running down the hallway your little boy emits, trailing behind him is his bluey mini suitcase overflowing with toys and games.

“i all pack!” he squeals in excitement as he races over to you and your husband. lando drops down onto your floor, finn running right into his embrace, followed by a fit of giggles.

“let’s see what you packed, buddy,” your husband replies as he ruffles around finns baby curls. finn then claps a bit until he’s situated on the floor in front of the suitcase. he begins pulling out his items and reciting them to both of you and you respond in a chorus of “ooh’s” and “aah’s”.

race day -

as lando struts down the makeshift runway that is the entrance to the paddock, you follow behind a little further as to not draw too much attention to your little son. even though finn had grown up around the paddock, both lando and you are still not fully comfortable with the cameras and attention specifically around your son. therefore, any precaution - even the slightest - to not have him overly immersed in the media you both will take. lando is simply sporting his mclaren team gear, you in a light and well-fit sundress that lando emphasized in the morning you look ‘absolutely ravishing, my darling” and your birthday boy, well, he has arrived in a bright red ‘sainz55’ ferrari shirt as well as a bright and wide smile - something your husband couldn’t even be mad at if he tried, as your son’s smile that bright on his birthday was worth any sort of bruise to the ego. once well inside the paddock, finn begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms wanting to be let down which could only mean one thing.

“UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS!” he begins to cry as you put him on the ground and he takes off towards him.

“FINN! SLOW DOWN!” your husband cries after him as he picks up a jogging pace after his overenthused son. carlos’ head whips around at the voice of his favorite little man as he begins to crouch down and brace for impact with his arms held wide. the little ball of red soon collides with his newfound favorite driver and the two begin to laugh as they hold each other. once you and lando catch up to the pair you can hear the adorable conversation at play.

“i wear wed fo’ you, uncle los!” finn sings happily while prancing around in front of carlos. the spanish driver, still crouched at your son's level, chuckles in admiration as he stares at the boy in front of him, “i think red is your color, pequeño,”

“it is! it is!” finn replies once again jumping around in full excitement.

“i also think it is somebody’s birthday,” carlos says holding a sly grin while staring at the little lando in front of him.

“ME! it’s mine!” your boy continues to jump.

“i think special birthday boys get to sit in their favorite uncles car?” carlos feigns innocence in the question as he looks at lando who holds a grin on his face. finn looks at his father for permission with a slight doe-eyed expression and lando gives him a simple nod before finn and carlos quickly disappear to the ferrari garage.

“i am very proud of you, love. you’ve got a good brave face,” you say quietly to your husband as he reaches down to pull you into a kiss.

“you know why i’m smiling, baby?” lando doesn’t wait for you to answer the rhetorical, “because we just gained a free babysitter for about an hour,” he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as he continues, dropping an octave, “and i’ve got an empty drivers room just waiting for us,” one more kiss and he’s already pulling you into the direction of the mclaren garage with you jogging quickly behind him in a fit of giggles.

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dark-and-kawaii · 14 days ago

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⋆｡˚꒰ঌ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Lᴀᴍʙ ໒꒱˚｡⋆

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ — Summary: You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.

“Who said you can rest, little lamb?”

Sukuna lifted your limp body with ease, his nails kissing your hips as he held your abused hole above his thick cock. The king of curses cum drooled from your aching cunt, making quite the mess on his lap, “Is this really the best your body can do? How disappointing.” He mocks, “We were only just getting started.”

His lips pulled into a sharp grin as his third hand tightened around your thigh to spread your leg wider for him. The tip of his cock teasing your opening, pushing into the sloppy mess your body was.

You were so tired… So, so tired… Sore, and exhausted.

You had lost count of how many times you came and how many times Sukuna did. But you still couldn't help but cry out as he impaled you on his beautiful veiny cock once again, your head lolled back before your body slumped forward onto his chest, “Ahhh~♡ Su-Sukuuuna~ Th-e tip of y-your dick and n’my cervix are touching n’kissing each other~~~♡ Aahh~ It h-hurts so s’good~! Y-Yur gonna rip m-my n’insides~ ♡ Aaahha~”

A low growl rumbled in Sukuna’s chest at your words as he started bouncing you on his cock, “What a good little thing. Taking me so well, the perfect little prey.”

Your breast, smushed so wonderfully against his chest, rubbed against his warm skin with each thrust, and he could feel how those cute perky nipples had gotten hard against him, “even though I’ve had my fun so many times now, you still react so nicely, still so tight- perfect for breaking still” his slick tongue licks against your cheek, lapping at the sweat that drenched your lovely flushed skin, “it almost feels like my cock is being strangled.”

Your arms wrapped around your kings neck, and you held on tight, trying your best to match his pace and movements, your insides stretched and stuffed, the head of his cock hitting the entrance of your womb with each bounce, “s’too rough. M-my insides ngh~ a-are being bullied~ ♡ I- I feel like I'm gonna diee~ aahh~! ♡♡ Y-you're g-gonna break m-me for reeeeal~♡” You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.

The man- the curse knew how to make you break, knew how to make those pretty eyes of yours glaze over and roll into the back of your skull until delicious tears dripped down your cheeks. Knew how to make those soft little noises come from your lips as you were fucked dumb.

“I would never allow that, lamb. What fun would I have if you were dead before i had my fill fully?” His hand loosened around your leg and slid up your body, the tip of his fingers brushing against your skin, his eyes narrowing, “Besides, if you were to die, who would let me have my fill? And then, who would make such delicious noises just for me?”

You were unable to respond, his thrusts too much for your poor mind… Unable to feel the way his arms were now securely wrapped around you, keeping you close. How All four of his arms curled protectively against your back, or the soft way his eyes gazed at you…

You were unable to see just how gentle and caring his expression was as he fucked you. How the way his mouth parted, how his teeth that had previously torn through your flesh and left behind bloody, purple marks, now glistened with saliva as he whispered, cooed and moaned, sweet words just for you, his little lamb… Yes, you were without a doubt his, the one who came to him and gave him your life and body.

His sweet, lovely, little lamb.

#true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #x reader #ryoumen sukuna #Sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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juleswritesstuff · 1 month ago

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Blind

james potter x reader

I saw that post right in the middle and I just had to.

Warnings: none (it's a bit suggestive, but nothing major)

You could live like this, you think.

It would truly be the best life ever in your humble opinion.

Sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, holding on to him like a lifeline as your bodies fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. His hands are all over your body, fingers exploring wherever they can reach before sneaking swiftly under your shirt to trace along the length of your spine, pads dancing on your soft skin and making shives erupt all over you.

And his lips. Oh God, his lips.

James has the face of an angel, and the mouth of a demon. And you love it. You revel in the feeling of his lips claiming every part of you, every inch of flesh. They are soft and reverent and teasing and filthy, and in this moment they are devouring yours with a hunger that matches the fire blooming inside of you.

“You have no right to look this good” you whisper on his lips, biting his bottom one before swiping your tongue right over it.

You couldn’t help yourself when you saw him. All disheveled after quidditch practice with his hair still a little damp, the first three buttons of his shirt free, tie loose and crooked and a half smirk on that perfect face of his; knocking on your door completely clueless of the effect he had on you.

He looked like sex on legs. A literal sin in human form, and you were ready to fall from grace when it came to him.

“Didn't know post-quidditch me was so sexy to you” his voice has a little strain to it, breathless and teasing as his hands roamed all over your body.

You let out a breathless chuckle, hyper aware of every centimeter of him pressed against you.

“You have no idea” your hands get to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you can, until his perfectly chiseled torso graces your eyes in its full glory.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

You slide the fabric off of his shoulders, brushing the smooth skin and feeling all those firm muscles that he hides behind his beloved sweatshirts, biting your lip as the flames inside your body grow hotter by the second.

Your mouth latches to his once again, never having enough of his taste, of him.

He starts to lay down and you follow him, never breaking the embrace of your lips, intoxicated by the way his tongue caresses yours in the filthiest of dances. His back hits the mattress and you are fully all over him, chest to chest.

The kiss becomes messy, a clash of teeth and lips and tongues. You are sure the thing running through your veins is not blood anymore, but liquid fire, consuming every cell of your body and setting you ablaze with desire.

“Hold on, love. I have to-”

God, he was so beautiful like this. All worked up and breathless, laying underneath you like the tastiest meal you ever had the pleasure to taste.

One of his arms leaves your waist and reaches up, until his fingers are wrapped around the slim, golden frame of his glasses, taking them off in a way that should be considered illegal in at least twenty countries. All smooth and seductive with that little grin of his and-

“Woah, you're fucking blurry”

For a split second the room falls silent, not a single sound can be heard inside those four walls.

You blink a few times, enough to let his words sink in.

And when they do you can't help but burst out laughing.

A real, genuine laugh coming straight from your belly and echoing through the room like you had just heard the joke of the century.

James’ eyes are wide in disbelief, flabbergasted by your reaction. But his mouth is stretched in an incredulous grin, sprinkled with a glint of mirth as he himself can’t stop the chuckle bubbling in his throat.

“Are you making fun of my blindness ? How cruel, Y/N” there is not an ounce of offense in his tone, just light-hearted and hilariously exaggerated teasing.

“Me ?” the fake and over the top innocence in your voice makes him smile even harder, the little dimple on his left cheek that you adored so much peeking through. You dip forward, leaving a kiss on those dreamy lips of his before whispering right against them “I wouldn't even dream of it”

“Oh, you wouldn't ?” he cocks a perfectly arched brow in a challenging and yet adorable manner, eyes sparkling with mischief as his fingers start poking at your ribs, making you squirm and giggle like a middle schooler.

“No ! No, no, no ! Jame-”

He is laughing too, now. Glasses back in their place and eyes glistening with joy and pure adoration as he looks at you struggling not to lose a lung from the almost hysterical shriek coming from your lips at the ticklish attack he had you under.

You are so focused on not collapsing from the laughter and the skillful way his fingers move in every place he knew was the most ticklish for you, that you don't even register the way his hands suddenly stop.

They land on your hips, holding them in a delicate but firm grip, and, before you know it, you are being flipped over. Your back makes contact with the mattress of your bed as the delicious weight of your boyfriend’s sculpted body settles over you.

You let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden change of position, a sound that threatens to turn into a full moan considered your current situation.

James is now on top of you, and the breath almost gets knocked out of your lungs as you admire him in his full glory.

His hair is wild and messy, but they frame his face in a way both so beautiful and so sexy that it makes your heart stop beating and your body run hotter. His eyes are still crinkled up in the ghost of a smile, but the haziness in them, that glint of adoration and reverence as he looks at you through his eyelashes, renders you speechless. His golden specks are hung a bit low on the bridge of his nose, giving him an adorable but mouth watering beautiful look. His lips are curled up in a half smile, playful and gorgeous and so, so incredibly sensual that you are not even sure if he knows the power that mouth has on you.

“Cat got your tongue, love ?” he brushes his nose with yours as he murmurs the question right on your lips, leaving a kiss on your cheek right after.

You wish you could just function like a normal person and tell him that, no, your tongue is definitely still in its place and it works perfectly fine, thank you. But your boyfriend is shirtless on top of you, with your legs still wrapped around his hips and that deadly handsome grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, the only thing you can think about are some other couple of ways in which your mouth could definitely be useful.

“I-” you gulp loudly as you try not to drool at the sight of his muscles flexing right before your eyes “-what ?”

He lets out a chuckle, his head hung low as his shoulders shake with laughter. His wild locks tickle your chin and you can feel the ghost of his smile pressed lightly on your collarbone

You can’t help but follow him as the delightful sound of his laugh echoes through the room, spreading a warmth in your heart that you had never felt before meeting James.

When he lifts his head back up and his eyes find yours again, all sparkling with joy and fondness, you really think your heart is seconds away from bursting in your chest.

“Am I really that distracting ?” there is still a hint of that cocky smirk on his face, but it fades into something sweeter as he catches the light blush blossoming on your cheeks.

“You know perfectly well that I stop functioning properly when you are on top of me, Potter” your grumbling tone doesn’t faze him one bit, he just dips his head lower and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“Really ? I hadn’t noticed” the unimpressed deadpan look you give him makes him chuckle again and you can feel the vibration right on your chest with how close he is.

“Sorry, sorry” his laughter dissipates, replaced by a more relaxed smile.

“If it’s of any consolation-” the hand not busy holding his upper body up and preventing his full weight to be laid on you, reaches the supple flesh of your thigh, letting his fingers dance on the exposed skin as they please “-my brain stops working, too”

His mouth starts a journey that begins on your lips and slowly and tortourously ends on your neck, which seems to be his favorite place to worship to make your brain short-circuit.

“Mmh, does it actually ?” you don’t know how the hell you manage to let a single word out, especially in that teasing tone, as you are sure nothing except pure filthy sounds threaten to come out of your throat.

He grins against your skin before lifting his head up once again.

“Oh, trust me. It does” he whispers sensually against your lips “In every position you have me in”

Yes, you could definitly live like this.

I am not sure if I am a 100 % satisfied with this, but I tried my best.

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading 💗

486 notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 1 month ago

Text

honeymoon — gojo satoru.

He grins. “We’ll see!” he replies, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Now, how about we start this honeymoon properly? I was thinking of a little walk along the Seine, maybe a café stop or two……” You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.” “But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, oral (male and female receiving), pet names (baby, wifey....), love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, intoxication, partying, slice of life, domestic life, family, honeymoon, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of alcohol consumption, depiction of being drunk, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of being drunk, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! satoru, wife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.5k words

NOTE: when i was plotting, i really thought about how i never made an explicit thing for us and them, so this is an extension of this along with my other things. i also included the end, because it was just something i think about. how would satoru gojo explain to his child how he was made? anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!! i love you <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip!

══════════════════

THIS WAS A LOT, EVEN FOR HIM. Two years of marriage, and you were finally going on a honeymoon. It was a journey that had been delayed for so long, almost forgotten amid the chaos of life and the expectations that weighed heavily on Gojo Satoru as the clan leader.

From the beginning, Satoru had refused to follow the traditional expectations—refused to parade you like some prize on display for the men in the clan. On your wedding night, instead of the grand celebrations and rituals everyone had expected, there had been a quiet understanding between the two of you.

Back then, you and Satoru were far from being romantically inclined. The marriage had been more of an alliance, an arrangement to fulfill the duties both of you bore. He hadn’t wanted to make you uncomfortable, and you had appreciated his consideration, even if it left a lingering sense of uncertainty between you.

But time had worked its magic, slowly and subtly. You had grown closer, finding comfort and familiarity in each other's presence. The first kiss had been tentative, almost accidental, but it had opened the door to something more profound. Each kiss after that became less about caution and more about the quiet desire that had started to blossom between you.

Now, you stood together at the threshold of something new. You had been the one to bring it up, gently, cautiously. You told him you were ready for the next step, ready to explore the possibilities that had once seemed so distant. Satoru had listened, his usual playful demeanor tempered by something more serious, more uncertain.

For all his bravado and confidence, you could see the nervousness in his eyes, the slight hesitation that had become rare in the man who seemed unshakable. This was new for him too, a path neither of you had walked before, and the weight of it was not lost on him.

As you packed for the trip, you could feel the unspoken tension between you both, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Satoru hovered nearby, throwing casual remarks your way, but there was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t ignore.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he finally asked, his gaze intense as he watched you carefully fold the last of your clothes into the suitcase.

You met his eyes, seeing the vulnerability he rarely showed. “I’m sure, you know?” you said, your voice steady. “But we don’t have to rush anything. We’ll take it at our own pace.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You always know how to keep me grounded,” he said, his tone lightening.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before. “We’ll be okay, Satoru,” you reassured him. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, holding you close. “Yeah, we have.” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with you.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by the quiet confidence that whatever came next, you would face it together. This trip, this honeymoon, was just another step in a journey that was uniquely yours, one that you were ready to take with him by your side.

The morning of the trip arrives with a quiet hum of excitement and a nervous energy that fills the air. Satoru, always so composed, is now anything but. He paces the living room, hands running through his snowy white hair, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed by a deep-seated anxiety. For once, the great Satoru Gojo—the man who could face curses and calamity without a flicker of fear seems utterly and completely lost.

“What if I mess this up?” he mutters to himself, barely noticing the presence of Megumi, Tsumiki, and your mother as they watch him from the doorway. “What if she realizes this was a mistake? What if I just do the worst and I—”

Your mother steps forward first, her soft, reassuring voice cutting through his frantic rambling. “Satoru,” she says gently, a calm smile on her lips. “You need to breathe. You’re going to be fine.”

He glances at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. “But… What if I’m not? What if I do something wrong? What if—”

Megumi, who had been quietly observing from the side, sighs and steps closer. “You’re overthinking again, it’s really annoying.” he says, his tone blunt but not unkind. “She chose you, Gojo–san. And she’s still here. That’s not going to change just because you’re nervous about this trip.”

Satoru pauses, considering the words, his brow furrowed. “But what if—”

“Gojo–san.” Tsumiki interrupts, her voice softer than Megumi’s but just as firm. “You love her, right?”

He blinks, as if the question is absurd. “Of course I do!” he answers immediately, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I love her more than anything.”

“Then trust her.” Tsumiki says simply, with her beaming smile. “Trust that she loves you too. Trust that she understands.”

Your mother nods, her hand reaching out to touch his arm gently. “She knows you, Satoru. She knows your flaws, your strengths… and she loves you anyway. Just be yourself. That’s all she wants.”

Satoru takes a deep breath, his shoulders still tense but beginning to relax under their calming words. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up, you know?” he admits, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to lose her. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Megumi, always the quiet anchor in the storm that was Satoru’s life, steps even closer. “You won’t.” he says with quiet certainty. “You’re both figuring this out together. It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying this. She wants to see you happy, Gojo–san. And I think… you need to see that too.”

Satoru nods slowly, his breath evening out as he absorbs their words. He straightens up, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture, but now tempered with something softer, more genuine.

“Okay….okay.” he murmurs, a small smile forming. “Okay. I can do this.”

Your mother squeezes his arm one last time, her smile warm and encouraging. “You already are, Satoru. Now go! The two of you need to make some great memories. And don’t forget to have fun.”

He laughs, a little shakily, but it’s a real laugh, the kind that lights up his face. “Yeah, fun… I think I remember how to do that, mother!” he teases, and they all chuckle.

As they head back to their respective rooms in the house, Gojo Satoru stands alone for a moment, taking a deep breath. He feels lighter, as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

The anxiety is still there, but it’s manageable now, a small flutter in his chest rather than a crushing force. He loves you too much to let fear get in the way. He loves you enough to take this step, to trust in the bond you’ve built together, one small moment at a time.

When he finally comes to find you, finally ready and dressed for the airport. He couldn’t help but just stare. You were so beautiful. And you chose him, to love him like this and bless him with beauty like this. Somehow, there’s a new steadiness in his gaze, a renewed sense of purpose. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and you can feel the resolve in his touch. You smiled at him, squeezing back.

“I’m ready to go.” he says softly, his blue eyes searching for yours. “Ready to do this, with you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “Then let’s go, Satoru. Let’s make this ours.”

And with that, you both step forward—toward whatever the future holds, side by side, ready to face it together.

══════════════════

IT WAS A LONG FLIGHT, AND HE COULDN’T SLEEP. The plane touched down in the city of Paris, the city bathed in the soft light of an early evening. Gojo Satoru’s firm fingers remain intertwined with yours as you both step out into the bustling airport, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that has become second nature to him.

He’s still a little on edge, that was certain. You can tell from the way his eyes dart around, the smallest twitch of his lips betraying his usual calm. But he’s here, and that matters more than anything.

He had taken time off, a long time, much to the frustration of the higher-ups and the clan elders who had protested and argued about duty and obligations. Yet Satoru had been unyielding, for once using his influence not for some mission or jujutsu-related endeavor, but for something that mattered far more to him—you.

Satoru seems more relaxed now, leaning back in the seat, one arm casually draped over your shoulders. “I still can’t believe I managed to take this much time off.” he muses aloud, a small smile on his lips. “I think they’re having a meltdown back at the school. But, honestly? Worth it.”

You chuckle. “Are you going to get in trouble for this?” you ask, a little worried despite yourself.

He snorts. “Let them try,” he says with a wink. “They can’t exactly do much to the strongest sorcerer in the world, can they?”

His arrogance, though familiar, is softened by the way he looks at you, his gaze filled with an affection that makes your cheeks warm. “Besides, wifey….” he continues. “If it means I get to see you smile like that, I’d take a whole year off.”

You shake your head, amused. “That might be a bit much, even for you, Satoru.”

You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.”

“But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?”

Nothing more was talked about after that. He was right, if he was being honest. You two have been married for a while now and Gojo Satoru never really took any holidays unless you guys needed him for important school dates or to spend time with you on the weekends. And you supposed you understood, because you were like that too before you took a long break from being a Jujutsu sorcerer.

Now you supposed, your husband Satoru seems lighter, his usual goofy, excited smile finally returning. You liked him like this, you think. Even then when you first met him, he had a really nice smile. And you wanted to keep him this way. Smiling and happy. Because he looked the most beautiful like that.

“So, wifey…..” he says, glancing over at you with a playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. “Where to first, madame Gojo? The Seine or the cafe?”

The way he says it, with a comically exaggerated French accent, makes you laugh joyously. “You’ve really been practicing, mon amour?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He laughs, the sound bright and carefree. “I’ve been preparing as always!” he corrects, “Wouldn’t it make it the perfect trip if it was hassle free by speaking French? Of course, only the best for my beloved, after all.”

His words carried a mixture of sincerity and that playful confidence you had grown so fond of, causing your heart to skip a beat. The joy that shimmered in his eyes was contagious, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. With a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned into the moment.

“Then let’s enjoy a walk to the Seine river and then go to the café,” you said softly.

“Oh? That sounds like a plan!” Satoru responded with his signature energy, his grin wide and carefree.

As the two of you ventured out into the crisp evening air, the world seemed to blur into the background. His hand held yours firmly, fingers intertwined as if they’d always belonged there. Every step along the Seine felt like something out of a dream.

The golden lights of Paris danced on the water’s surface, flickering like they were playing just for you. You caught Satoru sneaking glances at the city around him—his eyes bright and full of wonder as he took in the reflection of lights on the river, the charming hum of the city enveloping you both.

What captivated him the most, though, wasn’t the sights of Paris, but you. You felt his gaze linger every time you smiled at the simple things: a street musician playing a gentle tune, the comforting scent of pastries that filled the air. He marveled at the joy you found in these little moments, and somehow, you felt even more connected to him. With each passing second, it was like you were experiencing the city together, seeing it through each other's eyes.

There were no words needed. Satoru’s presence—steady, warm—was more than enough. As you walked, it felt as though time had paused, and all that existed was the quiet beauty of the night, the sound of your footsteps, and the feeling of his hand in yours.

As the night wears on, your husband insists on buying you a flower from a street vendor, presenting it to you with a flourish and an exaggerated bow that makes you laugh. You catch him watching you more than he watches the sights, his eyes full of a softness that you’ve rarely seen before, as if he’s trying to memorize every moment, every expression on your face.

Later, you find a small café tucked away on a quiet street. Your lovely Satoru orders in perfect French, much to the amusement of the waiter. You think that the Frenchman was delighted at the thought of someone speaking the language, but the accent you supposed was still not enough. Still, you think his pretty face made him more endearing.

The two of you sit outside to enjoy the lovely glow of the streetlights, sharing a dessert and sipping on your drinks, your chairs pulled close together. You got an espresso and your husband got a really sweet iced caramel macchiato, with a pain au chocolat and a chocolate cake on the side.

“I’ve never seen you this relaxed, you know?” you comment softly, noticing the way his shoulders have finally lost their tension.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “I’ve never had a reason to be either, well…not until recently. Especially with you.” he admits. “Being with you… it makes everything else seem less important.”

You reach out, placing your hand over his. “Thank you for this, Satoru.” you say quietly. “For taking this time. For making me feel like I’m worth all of it.”

He turns his hand over, squeezing yours. “You’re worth more than that, wifey.” he replies, his voice low and earnest. “You’re worth everything to me.”

For a moment, the world seems to slow, and it’s just the two of you, sitting together in a little café in Paris, a city full of life and love. The future seems bright, and the worries of the past fade away, replaced by the simple joy of being here, together.

As the night grows deeper, Satoru leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re happy?” he asks softly, as if seeking reassurance.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.” you whisper back.

His smile widens, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. “Good.” he murmurs. “Because I plan to keep you that way, no matter what.”

And in that moment, under the Parisian sky, you know he means every word.

The days in Paris begin to blur together, a soft blend of golden light, laughter, and the endless discovery of each other in a new place. You wake each morning to the sound of Satoru's humming, his voice light and carefree as he attempts a tune he’s probably heard in some old movie. He looks so at peace here, his usual edges softened, a smile almost always playing on his lips.

Your first full day is filled with exploration. You both decide to take things slow, meandering through the narrow streets, Satoru’s hand warm in yours. He insists on trying every pastry you come across, from croissants to pain au chocolat, and he buys them in excess, delighting in your shared bites and the way your face lights up with every taste.

At some point, you find yourselves at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, the iconic structure towering above you. Satoru looks up, his sunglasses perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the midday sun. “So, do we do the tourist thing?” he asks, grinning.

You laugh, nodding. “Why not? We’re here, aren’t we?”

He pulls you along, his excitement infectious as you both make your way to the elevator. The ride up is filled with a mix of awe and a little bit of playful bickering. Satoru teases you about your slight fear of heights, and you mock him for pretending to be calm when you can feel the tension in his grip on the rail.

At the top, the view is breathtaking. Paris stretches out beneath you like a painting—rooftops, winding streets, the Seine glittering in the distance. Satoru stands behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Look….” he murmurs in your ear. “All of this… and you’re still the best thing I’ve seen today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re so cheesy, Satoru.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. “Only for you.”

As you gaze out at the city, you feel his heart beating against your back, steady and strong. It’s moments like this that make you realize just how far you’ve come with him—from the careful, tentative steps of your early marriage to the unspoken trust and affection that now bloom between you. The nervousness that lingered in both of you is slowly fading, replaced by something deeper, something real.

Later, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourselves wandering into a small park. The air is cooler, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Satoru pulls you toward a bench, sitting down and tugging you onto his lap. He’s always been tactile, always needed that physical connection, and you’ve come to find comfort in it too.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes softening in the fading light. “You know,” he starts, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head, curious. “That’s new for you.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you. “Ha-ha. Very funny.” he quips, but there’s a fondness in his voice. “No, really. I’ve been thinking about how… how different everything feels now. How much I want this… us, to be real. Not just an arrangement or a convenience.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. “It already is real, Satoru.” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He nods, his expression earnest. “I know. But I want more. I want… all of you. Your happiness, your worries, your dreams… everything. I want you to know that I’m here. Fully, completely.”

For a moment, you’re lost in his gaze, the sincerity in his words sinking in. “I do know, you know?” you say softly. “And I’m here too. I’ve always been.”

He smiles, a genuine, radiant smile that makes your heart swell. “Good.” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Because I’ve got big plans for us, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what kind of plans might those be?”

He grins, that playful light back in his eyes. “Well, I was thinking… maybe a little house somewhere quiet, where we can have lazy mornings and late nights, and I can spend every day annoying you with my presence. Lots of space for Tsumiki and Megumi. For….for more kids, maybe.”

You laugh, the sound bright and free. “Sounds like a dream.” you tease.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “It is, isn’t it?” he whispers against your mouth. “My dream. Our dream.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in his arms under the soft glow of the Parisian twilight, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ll face it together, with love and laughter and all the beautiful, messy moments in between.

══════════════════

BEFORE LONG, THEY WERE INTO THE FUN. The night falls deeper, and you find yourselves in a cozy, dimly lit jazz bar on the quieter side of the city. The music is soft and sultry, a saxophone weaving its way through the smoky air. You’ve already had a few drinks, and while you’re feeling pleasantly light, Satoru—who rarely drinks at all—has decided tonight is an exception.

He raises his glass, clinking it gently against yours, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “To us!” he toasts, his voice already carrying that playful slur that makes your heart flutter.

“To us!” you echo, and take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

The band starts up a livelier tune, something with a beat that makes your foot tap against the floor. Satoru grins, setting down his glass with a flourish. “Come on, wifey!” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you up,.“Get up! Come on, let’s dance.”

You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet, but you let him lead you to the small, crowded dance floor. He spins you around with a dramatic flair, earning a few amused glances from the other patrons, but you don’t care. Tonight, it’s just the two of you, and the rest of the world feels miles away.

Satoru moves with an unexpected grace, his movements loose and free. He’s not a bad dancer—in fact, he’s surprisingly good, his body swaying in rhythm with the music. You let yourself be pulled close, your hands resting on his shoulders as he guides you through the steps, his laughter bright and infectious.

“You’re actually good at this, Satoru.” you tease, your head spinning slightly, not just from the drinks but from the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the room.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I have many hidden talents, always!” he whispers, his tone low and teasing. “But this, wifey….” he continues, his hands sliding down to rest at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “This is my favorite one.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, and Satoru’s grin widens. The two of you continue dancing, moving in sync, the music carrying you along, your bodies pressed close, swaying with the rhythm. The alcohol has made you both bolder, and you feel his hands tighten on your waist, his touch firm yet gentle.

Your heart races as his face draws closer, his lips brushing your ear. “You know, wifey….” he murmurs, his voice low, “I don’t usually do this—drinking and dancing like an idiot.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know you don’t.” you reply softly, your hands moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “But I’m glad you’re doing it with me.”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your cheek. “Me too.”

And then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you—a deep, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. His mouth is warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget where you are, lost in the sensation of his lips, his hands, the way he’s pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

You kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he groans softly, his grip on you tightening. The world around you blurs, and it’s just the two of you, kissing like you’re the only people in the universe. His hands slide up your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.

“God, you taste good,” he mutters against your mouth, his voice husky, and you feel a surge of heat pool in your stomach. You press yourself closer to him, your body molding against his, and his breath hitches, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“Satoru, baby.” you whisper, your voice breathy, and he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your back, his touch growing bolder with every passing second. You can feel his heart pounding against yours, his breath hot and fast, and your own pulse quickens in response.

“Let’s get out of here, wifey.” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with desire.

You nod, your breath coming in short, excited bursts. “Yeah….let’s go.” you whisper back, feeling the same burning need coursing through you.

He grabs your hand, his grip firm and steady, and you both make a quick exit from the bar, laughter bubbling between you as you stumble into the cool night air. The streets of Paris are quiet now, the city settling into the late hours, but you hardly notice or rather, you could scarcely care. You were too far gone in cloud nine to care.

Your husband Satoru pulls you close again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity, and you’re lost in him once more, the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

You barely make it back to the hotel, your kisses growing more heated, more desperate, with each step. By the time you reach your room, Satoru’s hands are tangled in your hair, his lips moving down your neck, and you’re breathless with want, your fingers tugging at his shirt.

He fumbles with the key, cursing under his breath, and you laugh, breathless, helping him steady his hands. When the door finally swings open, he pulls you inside, kicking it shut behind you, and his mouth is on yours again, hot and demanding.

You push him back against the wall, your hands roaming his chest, and he lets out a low, pleased hum, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, sliding up your sides, making you shiver. “I’ve wanted this, wifey.” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “ I just wanted you so bad… for so long.”

Your response is a quiet moan as his lips find yours again, his hands pulling you even closer, and you know, in this moment, that this is exactly where you want to be—wrapped up in his arms, feeling his heartbeat against yours, letting the world outside fade away until it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, in Paris, under the spell of the night.

The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn, and the air is thick with the heat of your bodies. Satoru’s breath comes out in ragged gasps, his head thrown back against the pillows, his hair splayed out in a mess of white strands. He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his knuckles white with the force, and his chest rises and falls with every sharp inhale.

“God……..” he groans, voice low and breathless, the sound of it echoing in the small space. His eyes are half-lidded, darkened with lust, but there’s a softness there too, a look of wonder as he gazes down at you.

You move against him with purpose, your mouth warm and soft, sliding up and down his length with a rhythm that has his hips bucking up slightly, desperate for more. Your tongue swirls around him, and he gasps, the sound breaking into a quiet moan, his hands reaching for you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“Feels so good, wifey.” he slurs, his voice thick and heavy with pleasure. “Fuck… you’re so perfect.” He can barely keep his eyes open, his head rolling back against the pillow, his body taut with tension, the pleasure building in waves that crash over him again and again.

You hum softly, the vibration sending a shiver through him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh, right there….” he gasps, his voice breaking. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

You don’t. You keep going, moving with a deliberate slowness that has him trembling beneath you, his entire body responding to every flick of your tongue, every gentle scrape of your teeth. He’s never felt like this—so completely undone, so out of control. And yet he’s never felt more alive, more connected, more in love than he does right now, with you.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, and he looks at you, his eyes searching yours. “I—” he starts, but his voice catches, and he swallows hard, trying to steady himself. “I love you, baby.” he whispers, the words spilling out of him in a rush, as if he can’t keep them in any longer.

You pause for just a second, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away. There’s so much there—desire, adoration, fear, and a kind of raw, aching need that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Then you smile, just a little, your lips curling around him, and you take him in deeper, drawing a ragged moan from his throat. He bucks up again, his grip on the sheets tightening as he feels that familiar coil of heat tightening in his stomach, building and building with every movement, every sensation.

“Ah… I can’t—” he chokes out, his breath hitching, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

And then he’s gone, his head tipping back, a guttural moan tearing from his lips as he comes undone, the pleasure crashing over him in a wave so intense he feels like he might just shatter. His whole body tenses, his hips jerking up as he spills into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as the world blurs around him.

For a moment, everything is silent, save for the sound of his heavy breathing, his chest heaving with the effort. He feels like he’s floating, his body weightless, his mind blank except for the overwhelming sensation of you, your warmth, your touch, your love.

When he finally comes back to himself, he looks down at you, his eyes still hazy, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Holy shit.” he breathes out, his voice shaky, and he lets out a weak laugh, his fingers still tangled in your hair. “That… that was incredible.”

You lean up, crawling up his body to press a kiss to his lips, and he kisses you back, slow and sweet, his hand cupping your cheek as if he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs against your mouth, his other hand trailing down your back, pulling you closer.

You smile against his lips, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, the way he’s still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release. “I think we’re just getting started, aren’t we?” you whisper, your voice low and teasing.

He grins, his eyes bright with excitement and affection. “Oh, I hope so.” he replies, his voice filled with promise, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

And as he pulls you back down into another kiss, deep and slow, you feel it too—the certainty that whatever comes next, you’re ready for it. Together.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… Tonight is all about you."

You shiver at his words, a thrill running down your spine. His hands slide down your sides, settling on your hips, and he shifts you gently, guiding you onto your back. He hovers over you, his body warm and solid against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire palpable in the air between you.

He takes his time, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his mouth hot and soft as he moves lower, tasting your skin. Every kiss sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath catching in your throat as his mouth finds all the places that make you sigh, that make you arch against him.

His hands are everywhere—gentle yet insistent, roaming over your body, touching, caressing, exploring. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, his lips brushing over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, until you’re gasping, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

“Please, Satoru…” you whisper, your voice a soft, needy plea.

He smiles against your skin, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Patience, baby.” he murmurs, his voice teasing but thick with need. “I want to make this last… make you feel good.”

He continues his descent, his kisses growing more heated, more purposeful. His mouth moves lower still, down your stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, and you feel your breath hitch, your body trembling with anticipation. His hands part your thighs, his touch firm but gentle, and you feel your heart start to race, your pulse pounding in your ears.

He glances up at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with a mixture of mischief and adoration. “Just relax, baby.” he whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you gasp. “Let your loving husband take care of you.”

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue moving with a slow, deliberate precision that has you moaning his name, your hips lifting off the bed as pleasure sparks through you like wildfire.

He doesn’t rush—he takes his time, tasting you, teasing you, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you in place as he brings you to the brink over and over again.

You’re lost in the sensation, your head falling back against the pillows, your fingers gripping the sheets as he works you over with his mouth, his tongue moving in ways that make your toes curl, that send you spiraling into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

“Satoru, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking, and he hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

“Mm, that’s it.” he murmurs, his voice muffled but full of satisfaction. “Let go for me… I want to feel you come.”

His words are like a command, and you feel yourself falling, tumbling over the edge as pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body arching against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him against you as you come, crying out his name.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, his mouth relentless, his tongue flicking and curling, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trembling with aftershocks.

“Again, baby.” he whispers, his voice dark and filled with want. “I want to hear you scream my name again.”

And you do—again and again. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you a moment to recover before he’s building you up again, his fingers joining his mouth, pressing into you with a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart. His thumb finds that perfect spot, rubbing circles that make your vision blur, and you’re gone again, crying out, your body clenching around him, your mind blank with pleasure.

You lose count of how many times he makes you come, each one more intense than the last, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a storm, pulling you deeper and deeper into a sea of sensation. You’re breathless, your body spent, and yet he keeps going, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you, to make you feel as cherished and adored as he possibly can.

When you finally collapse against the sheets, your body trembling, your skin slick with sweat, he crawls up to meet you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, tender kiss, his hands gentle as they cradle your face.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers against your mouth, his voice filled with awe, his breath warm against your lips. “I could spend the rest of my life making you feel like this.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love, and you pull him close, kissing him deeply, letting him know without words that you feel the same. Because in this moment, with him, you’ve never felt more alive, more loved, more complete.

Satoru’s breath hitches when he feels you shift beneath him, the soft, unintentional grind of your hips against his sending a jolt of electricity straight through him. He bites back a moan, his fingers tightening on your hips instinctively, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he tries to maintain some semblance of control.

God, the way you affect him—how effortlessly you make his heart race, his breath catch, his body respond like this—it’s like you have a power over him that goes far beyond anything he’s ever known. He’s already hard, painfully so, and the thin fabric of his uniform pants does little to hide his need, the friction almost too much to bear.

“S-Shit…..” he mutters, his voice low and strained, and he swallows hard, trying to catch his breath. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to move like that, hadn’t expected the sheer intensity of his reaction.

He wants to touch you, to hold you, to be buried deep inside you, but he’s almost afraid to move, afraid that if he does, he’ll lose what little control he has left.

You shift again, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a broken moan escaping his lips as he presses against you, feeling your warmth, your softness, even through the layers of fabric. It’s too much, and yet not enough, and he feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“God, baby.” he breathes out, his voice trembling, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to hold himself back. “You have no idea… what you do to me.”

He’s desperate, his body aching with need, his mind a haze of lust and longing, but he’s also so full of love, of adoration, that it takes his breath away. He wants you—he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything—but he also wants to savor this, to make it last, to make sure you feel just as good as he does.

He grinds against you again, more deliberately this time, and he lets out a low, shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “I’m… I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I can’t… I can’t stop myself.”

His hands move to your waist, fingers splaying out over your skin, and he begins to move against you, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. He can feel you beneath him, feel the heat of your body, the way you respond to his every touch, his every movement, and it drives him wild.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you with a hunger that matches the desperation in his movements, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting you, devouring you. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips, and he tugs you closer, pulling you against him, needing more, needing everything.

“I… I need you. Need you so bad.” he murmurs against your lips, his voice breaking, raw and filled with longing. “I need to feel you… all of you.”

He shifts his weight slightly, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he struggles to free himself. He’s too impatient, too needy, and he lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers trembling as he finally manages to shove his pants down just enough to release his aching length.

He’s rock-hard, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum, and he groans again as he presses against you, the heat of your body sending another wave of pleasure crashing through him.

“Please, baby.” he whispers, his voice desperate, his hips grinding against you, “I can’t… I can’t wait anymore.”

You arch against him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, and he moans, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the head of his cock brush against your entrance.

He’s trembling, his whole body taut with need, and he can barely think, barely breathe, all he knows is that he wants you, needs you, more than anything. He presses forward slowly, carefully, his breath catching in his throat as he feels you envelop him, inch by inch, the tight, wet heat of you driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck… you feel… so good....” he groans, his hips pressing forward, sliding deeper inside you, and he can’t stop the shudder that runs through him, the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside you, of being this close, this connected.

He starts with deliberate slowness, his thrusts shallow and gentle, as if testing the boundaries of your shared connection. His breath catches, and you can feel the tension in his body, how he's holding back, savoring the sensation of being so close to you.

The warmth of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together so seamlessly, sends a shiver through you. Your legs instinctively tighten around him, pulling him deeper, and that's when you hear it—a low, guttural growl from deep within his chest.

The sound is raw, primal, a reflection of his desire, and it sends a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His restraint begins to crumble. He thrusts harder, his hips snapping against yours with growing intensity, and each movement feels more urgent, more desperate. His hands, once tender on your waist, now grip you with fervor, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

The pace quickens, his need spilling out in every motion. He’s relentless, each thrust filled with a hunger to make you feel the same pleasure that's overtaking him. You can hear the labored breaths escaping his lips, see the fire in his eyes as they lock onto yours. His voice, hoarse and trembling with emotion, breaks the silence between you.

“God… I love you.” he gasps, barely able to form the words between ragged breaths. His rhythm becomes frenzied, driven by the overwhelming sensation of being with you in this moment.

“I love you… so much… so fucking much,” he groans, his voice thick with passion. Each declaration is a pulse of raw emotion, his need to show you, to let you feel every ounce of his love, pouring out of him.

His movements, once careful and measured, have become wild and uncontrollable, driven by the depth of his feelings. Every thrust is a a call to his desire, every gasp a confession of how deeply he’s fallen for you.

His pace becomes frantic, a blend of raw need and overwhelming affection. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the intensity of his desire matching your own.

His hands roam from your waist to your hips, gripping tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let go—afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

The sound of your bodies moving together fills the air, the room heavy with heat and tension. You feel the build-up of pleasure rising within you, matching the urgency of his thrusts.

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he looks at you, as if his every feeling, his every thought, is laid bare in this moment.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, each one catching as his need grows more intense. The sensation of you wrapped around him, the way your body responds to his every touch, only fuels him further.

He lowers his head to press his lips against your neck, kissing a trail from your collarbone up to your jaw, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I can't… get enough of you," he murmurs against your skin, his voice shaky, consumed by the pleasure coursing through him. "You're everything… everything I need."

His words are laced with both desperation and adoration, the weight of his feelings crashing over him. With each thrust, you can feel how close he is to the edge, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this moment with you, to savor every second.

His hands grip your thighs now, pulling you even closer, the friction between you igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every nerve.

The pressure inside you builds, coiling tighter and tighter as he moves. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body arching into him, and he groans in response, the sound reverberating deep within his chest.

It’s as if the world outside of this moment ceases to exist. All you can feel is him—his heat, his breath, the weight of his love for you driving him to move faster, harder.

“I’m so close, baby.” he gasps, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold on just a little longer, his body trembling with restraint. His eyes meet yours again, and the look in them is nothing short of devotion. “I need you… I need you to come with me.”

And with those words, everything inside you unravels. The release hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you in wave after wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he lets out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go, the force of his climax overwhelming him.

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick with the afterglow of what you’ve just shared. His body rests against yours, both of you spent, your hearts beating in sync as you catch your breath.

══════════════════

epilogue

In the cozy living room of your home, Gojo Satoru sat on the floor with your son, Satoshi, sprawled out in front of him, surrounded by toys and colorful blocks.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Satoru was trying to entertain Satoshi with a game of building blocks, but the little boy’s curiosity took an unexpected turn.

Satoshi looked up at Satoru, his big, innocent eyes full of questions. “Papa, papa!” he asked, “How was ‘toshi born?”

Satoru’s eyes widened, and he froze mid-block placement, the toy car in his hand almost slipping out. He glanced around, searching for a way to divert the conversation, but Satoshi was looking at him with unwavering expectation.

Satoru cleared his throat, his mind racing back to that unforgettable honeymoon in Paris and maybe a little after that…..you know, there’s been a lot and he just….he doesn’t know how and where things had become a bit… complicated. He doesn’t really count.

“Well, my little dawn…baby, you see…” Satoru began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “A lot of it is just…. it’s a bit of a… long story.”

Satoshi tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “A long story? Like when we go to Grandma’s house?”

Satoru nodded, his mind still floundering for the right words. “Exactly like that, but, um, with more… magic.”

Satoshi’s eyes widened, and he leaned closer. “Magic? Did you use your special powers?”

Satoru scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if there was a way to explain this that didn’t involve any, ahem, explicit details. “Well, it’s more like… a magical moment, little dawn.” he said, smiling nervously. “Because well….magic is magic!”

Satoshi looked thoughtful, then blinked. “Was it like when you make the cookies disappear?”

Satoru’s face turned a shade of red, and he tried to stifle a laugh. He doesn’t know how he was supposed to do this at all. “Uh, not exactly. More like… a really happy time when mama and papa were together, and, uh, we decided to have more family for big brother Megumi and big sister Tsumiki, you know?”

Satoshi nodded slowly, his tiny brow furrowing as he considered this. “So, you made cookies disappear and that’s how I got here?”

Satoru chuckled, a little relieved that Satoshi seemed satisfied with the vague explanation. “Sort of, yes. It’s a special kind of magic that’s, um, a bit different from making cookies disappear.”

Satoshi pondered this for a moment, then brightened. “Okay! Can we build a magic castle now?”

Satoru laughed, feeling a wave of relief. “Absolutely, let’s build the biggest magic castle ever!”

As Satoru helped Satoshi with the blocks, he couldn’t help but think that he had successfully dodged a bullet—or at least, he hoped he had. He glanced at the photo of you on the mantel and grinned, knowing that despite the complexities of parenthood, there were some things best left to the imagination.

When you arrived home, the late afternoon light was still spilling into the living room, casting a golden hue over the scene. You found Satoru and Satoshi surrounded by a sprawling fortress of colorful blocks, the little boy’s face alight with triumph as he declared his castle complete.

“Mama!” Satoshi called out, running over to greet you with his usual enthusiasm. “Look at the magic castle Papa and I built!”

You smiled, bending down to give him a hug. “It’s beautiful, Satoshi! I’m so proud of you.”

Satoru stood up, brushing the dust off his pants with a sheepish grin. He looked slightly relieved to see you, and he met your eyes with a hint of nervousness. You looked at him with curious eyes as he tried to take a deep breath. It was as though he was preparing himself to tell you something.

“Hey, baby.” you said, raising an eyebrow at him as you moved towards the kitchen. “How was your day with Satoshi?”

Satoru followed you, his expression a mix of amusement and apprehension. “It was good, but we had a little… conversation.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? About what?”

Satoru scratched the back of his neck, his face turning a bit red. “Well, Satoshi asked me how he was born….well, like not born. How…how he was made?”

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening as you looked at him. “Oh, really? And how did you handle that?”

Satoru let out a nervous chuckle. “I tried to explain it with… magic. I told him it was like a special kind of magic and that it happened when mama and papa decided to have a family.”

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Did he buy that?”

Satoru shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sort of. He thought it was like making cookies disappear, so I went along with it.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head.You couldn’t stop to the point you were coughing. Satoru blushed, even his ears were red. “Cookies? That’s one way to put it.”

Satoru looked relieved to see you find the humor in the situation. “Yeah, I guess. He seemed satisfied, so I think we dodged a bullet.”

You walked over to Satoshi, who was now engrossed in a new block creation. You crouched down next to him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Satoshi, did papa tell you a magic story?”

Satoshi nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. “Yes! And we built a magic castle! Papa said it’s like magic cookies!”

You glanced at Satoru, who was trying to suppress a grin. “Well, that sounds like a fun story.”

Satoru walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I think we managed to keep things light, but I’m glad you’re home to handle the next round of questions.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. And next time, maybe we’ll keep the magic cookies out of the explanation.”

Satoru grinned, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Deal. Thanks for saving me from my own magical misadventures.”

You both chuckled, watching as Satoshi continued his block building, blissfully unaware of the parental confusion that had preceded his masterpiece.

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wri0thesley · 5 months ago

Note

hi sweet Nat, can i ask for size kink with Alhaitham pretty please? ♡

Anonymous asked: Hello! Hope you are having a wonderful day for the ask game how about alhaitham + size kink

great minds think alike....

Alhaitham's height is obvious to anybody who meets him; less obvious, though, is the breadth of him. One often writes it off as perhaps him wearing clothes that flatter him too much, being as it is difficult to look at him for too long without receiving a sardonic gaze back. After all, is he not the man who calls himself a 'feeble scholar' with only the barest uplift of the corner of his mouth?

You, though, are intimately acquainted with everything that Alhaitham has to offer.

With the big hands, stained with ink. With the muscles that ripple beneath his clothing. With the way he towers over you in both stature and in presence. With the size of him, everywhere that it might matter--

Oh, and you couldn't hide anything from him if you tried. He looks at you and he sees straight through you no matter how hard you work to look unruffled by how much of his hand covers your head when he absent-mindedly pats it on his way past. And at times like this--

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" He murmurs to you, where you're trapped beneath him, his shoulders casting a shadow over you on the bed. His muscular thighs have pressed your own softer, sweeter ones apart. One of his hands is big enough to encircle both of your wrists, and he uses that to his advantage, veins flexing in his forearms as he keeps those wrists pinioned above your head to ensure you feel utterly at his mercy.

You are warm; flushed, beads of sweat rolling down the nape of your neck, glistening in the valley between your chests. It is not only the warm Sumeru air (though that would be your excuse if he called you out) - but being trapped beneath him like this, being pinned and captured like a little rabbit who has found themselves run afoul of a bigger animal ready to devour them.

"H-hard to believe what?" You whisper out, your heart beating fast against your chest. He lets out a single laugh, as controlled as he always is even though you can see that his cheeks are flushed and you can feel the hot hardness of his cock where it rests against your inner thigh, mixing your slick and his precome.

"That something so tiny could really fit this in them," he says, as if it should be obvious; and to prove his point, he uses his free hand to lift the heavy shaft of his cock, to give it a slow, teasing pump. Even his own hands, so big that they make your breath catch, are not quite big enough to wrap around the full length of it.

Flushed and ruddy, leaking silvery bubbles of precome, a vein on the thickness of his shaft pulsing in time with his even breathing, you can barely stand that he's not putting it inside you. Helplessly, you arch your back, and he laughs again.

"Look," he murmurs, dropping his cock, voice husky. His hand delves now to between your own thighs; two long fingers used to push apart the sticky plump lips of your labia. You keen at the cool air hitting the swollen pearl of your clit, standing to attention, and Alhaitham swoops down to press a single kiss to the bud before he straightens up again. "You're even smaller here."

"A-Alhaitham," you whisper, your body shivering under the fleeting touch of the kiss. His lips are wet and shiny even from that brief shimmering moment of contact, and you think if he doesn't do something about the way your hole is clenching and pulsing around nothing you might just explode. "Please--"

"Oh," he says, with a small smile on his lips. "But I might break you in half."

Lazily, he lets his cock slap lightly against your sex, lets it get soaked in your wetness, lets you helplessly buck against it in the vain hope that you can get him to fuck you or at the very least get a modicum of friction going.

You don't get far. He's too strong, too big - you're helpless beneath the Scribe, at the mercy of whatever whims he decides to enact. You try to change tack.

"You're wasting time!" You tell him breathlessly, trying to appeal to his pragmatism. "You could be fucking me right now instead--"

He makes a considering noise in the back of his throat, regarding you through unfailingly calm emerald green eyes.

"I certainly wouldn't be enjoying myself if you weren't properly ready for me," he says, in the end, and his gaze flickers from your own needy face to the needier sight of your cunt, fluttering and pulsing and leaking all over his bedsheets.

"Hmm. No. I think I'll take my time," he decides, shifting, and you're once again struck by his size, by how much of you he can shelter beneath the oasis of his body. He leans down, his lips against the shell of your ear, and you shudder at the sensation of his breath against the sensitive skin. "After all. I'm a very patient man."

#drabble #ask game #not sfw text #genshin impact posting #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut

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grapejuicenharry · 1 month ago

Text

Angel (part 2)

In which Harry and Y/N go on their first date- as a couple. (3k words)

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, fluff, kissing, soft h

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

Harry had been thinking a lot. Ever since he and Y/N made it official, he’s been meaning to take her on a real date—their first date as boyfriend and girlfriend. These last few days had been a whirlwind for Harry. That night when they made their relationship official still felt surreal to him.

Y/N was coming over to his apartment today to hang out and have dinner together. They had planned to watch The Notebook since it was both his and Y/N’s favorite film, and eat the Chinese takeout that Harry had ordered. This had been their routine for the past few days—hanging out every day after college at each other's places, ordering takeout or cooking together, simply enjoying each other's company, sleeping next to one another, and soaking in the bliss of their relationship.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Harry suddenly blurts. They were both sitting on couch while the movie was playing, Y/N was too engrossed in the film, while shoving popcorn in her mouth, legs resting on harry’s lap when she hears him. It took her few seconds to register what he was saying. "I want to take you on a real date. Since we’re already dating, I thought we should," he adds nervously, fidgeting with his glasses.

Y/N couldn’t help but grin. He looked so adorable, fidgeting with his glasses while asking her. Truthfully, she never minded that they hadn't gone on official dates—spending every moment together already felt like dating. But now that Harry was asking, excitement bubbled up inside her. "Yes, of course, I will!" she replies, jumping onto his lap. Harry beams, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm.

She wraps her arms around him while settling into his lap, the movie playing softly in the background. “So, where are you taking me? Are we going to the Chili’s near campus?” Y/N asks excitedly.

“No, we’re not going there since we eat there almost every day,” Harry replies with a laugh. Y/N was adorable; she really thought Harry would take her to the same place they usually go after college. “But I can’t tell you—it’s a surprise.”

Y/N pouts playfully, trying to coax out more information. “Come on, just a hint?”

Harry shakes his head, grinning. “Nope, that would ruin the fun. You’ll just have to trust me.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically but can’t hide her smile. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. But it better be good!”

Harry chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I promise, it’ll be worth it. Just enjoy the movie for now.”

As they settle in, Y/N feels a mix of curiosity and excitement, wondering what surprise Harry has planned.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Harry had organized a picnic date in the fields, knowing how much Y/N adored picnics. She had mentioned several times how she loved nature, surrounded by fresh flowers, sitting on the grass, and enjoying the sun. He packed a basket with her favorite snacks, including sandwiches, various fruits, candies, chocolates, and a cooler filled with juice and sparkling water. He even picked a bouquet of wildflowers to give to Y/N.

Y/N was thrilled. She had been eagerly anticipating this day, even finishing all her assignments yesterday so she and Harry could enjoy the weekend together. Dressed in a baby pink sundress as Harry requested, her hair tied back with a white bow, and pink heels adorning her feet, she felt giddy with excitement. A mix of nerves and anticipation swirled in her belly, especially since Harry refused to reveal their date destination. She had tried every trick in the book to get him to spill, but he didn’t budge.

She looks at herself for the last time in the mirror and hears her doorbell ring. She furrows her brows while wondering who is it. Harry never rings the bell to come in her apartment, She hurriedly opens the door to find the man of her dreams standing there, Harry

Harry stood there, dressed in a light pink silk shirt that matched hers, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the tattoos on his arms. His glasses framing his perfectly handsome face, while his messy curls looked like he’d run his hands through them one too many times. In his hands, he held a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“Hi,” he finally managed, his voice soft as he cleared his throat, his eyes darting nervously to her and then away. Y/N looked breathtaking, and he couldn’t help but fumble his words. “You look so beautiful, Y/N,” Harry mumbled, barely above a whisper, his cheeks pink as he stared at her, completely in awe.

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, her own cheeks flushing. Harry always had that effect on her. Her eyes fell to the flowers in his hands. “Are those for me?” she asked, smiling.

“Yeah… I, um, I picked them because I know you like them,” he said shyly, extending the bouquet, his hands shaking slightly as he offered them to her.

“They’re so pretty, and they smell amazing. Thank you,” she said sweetly before rising on her toes to kiss him softly. Her lip gloss left a faint shimmer on his lips, and though Harry’s face flushed even more, he secretly loved it.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The ride to the field was quiet, but in that comfortable, intimate way they both loved. The windows were slightly down, letting the cool breeze filter through the car as they drove. Soft music filled the space-Harry had made a playlist just for her, full of her favorite songs, and Y/N couldn't help but smile every time she recognized another one.

His hand rested gently on her thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles over her skin, sending little shivers up her spine. While she played with his rings on his fingers. She felt the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns, and it was enough to make her heart race.

She still had no idea where they were going. The road seemed endless, stretching out into the countryside, and the mystery was starting to get to her.

She glanced over at Harry, whose eyes were focused on the road, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips when he realized she was staring at him. He knew what she was about to ask.

"Where are we going, Harry?" she asked for the third time in the past thirty minutes, curiosity lacing her voice.

Harry playfully threw his head back and groaned, glancing at her, his smile getting wider. "Just a few more minutes, love," he murmured, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze. "I promise, you'll like it."

Her stomach fluttered with anticipation as the scenery around them began to change.

She looked out at the endless fields of sunflowers, bright and cheerful. Different types of flowers swayed gently in the breeze, making it feel like they had stepped into a whole new world. Trees surrounded them, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.

As the sweet smell of fresh flowers floated in through the window, Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling refreshed. Harry noticed her reaction and rolled the window down further so she could see everything better. The wind rushed in, tossing her hair around her face.

She turned to Harry, who wore a huge grin, his own hair flying in all directions. In that moment, everything felt perfect. They were lost in this beautiful scene, and nothing else seemed to matter.

“Cmon let’s get out” he mutters. Y/N excitedly fumbled with her seat belt, While harry opened the door for her, extending his arm. She immediately took and hopped out.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“This is beautiful, Harry. I’ve never been to a place like this,” Y/N said, stopping mid-step to face him as they walked through the field. Their hands were intertwined, swaying gently in the breeze, with flowers tangled in both of their hair.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she added softly, wrapping her arms around his neck before kissing him deeply. “This is the best date ever,” she whispered between their kisses.

Harry chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers. “There’s more, baby,” he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N furrowed her brows, curious, but before she could ask, Harry gently pulled her toward the back of his car. Her eyes widened in surprise as he revealed the assortment of things he had packed.

She gaped at the sight of the picnic mat, snacks, cooler, sandwiches and candies. Her heart swelled as she watched him, his thoughtfulness making the moment even more special.

YIN stood there, watching in awe as Harry finished setting everything up. He spread out the soft picnic mat under the tree's shade, its branches swaying gently overhead. Se couldn't help but smile at the sight of the cooler filled with her favorite drinks and the pile of candies they both loved. Everything felt so perfectly thought out, so them.

"You really outdid yourself," she said, still smiling as she sat down on the mat, pulling him down beside her. Harry gave a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed but proud.

"I just wanted it to be special," he said softly, his gaze meeting hers, full of warmth.

"It is. More than I could have imagined," she replied, reaching for his hand, their fingers naturally lacing together again.

She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, making him blush slightly.

They sat there for a moment, munching on the snacks he had packed, taking in the serenity of the field around them, talking about mindless things, laughing at Harry’s jokes, the air filled with the sound of rustling leaves and giggles. The warmth of the sun peeked through the trees, casting a golden light on everything, making it all feel magical.

Harry laughed, looking down at Y/N, who was lying on his lap, munching on a strawberry. “So, now that we’re officially on a date, does this mean you’ll finally stop stealing my hoodies?” he asked.

Y/N grinned up at him. “Absolutely not. Whether we’re dating or not, those hoodies are mine.” She loved wearing Harry’s hoodies. They were so soft and comfortable, like being wrapped in a hug from him. Plus, the lingering scent of his cologne always made her feel at ease. It was comforting in a way that felt like home—safe, familiar, and somehow made her sleep better every time she wore them. But she was too embarrassed to admit that to him.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Great. So I’m never getting them back?”

“You could just leave one at my place. Make it official—‘Harry’s Hoodie Collection.’” She was teasing him at this point.

“Oh, so it’s like that? A whole collection huh?” Harry smirked, running his tongue along his front teeth.

“You know it. And I’m definitely taking your favorite next,” She giggled, pulling playfully at his cheeks.

“You’re evil,” Harry said, nudging her hand away, trying to hide the blush that crept up, knowing how much he secretly loved seeing her in his clothes.

The sun shone warmly above them as Harry and Y/N lay back on the soft mat. The sky was a clear blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees and made the wildflowers sway.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers. Birds chirped softly in the distance, adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Y/N took a deep breath, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Okay, serious question… when did you start seeing me as more than just a friend?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

Harry opened his eyes and turned to face her, chuckling as he gently released her lip from her teeth. “Honestly? I think I liked you from day one,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But I was a little scared to say anything back then. Our friendship was so important, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”

He looked up at her, his expression softening. “But as we got closer, it got harder to ignore. I started missing you more when we weren’t together. I always loved hanging out with you as a friend, but then… I started wanting more than that, and that’s when I knew it was more than just friendship.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his confession, a smile tugging at her lips. “I felt the same way,” she whispered. “At first, it was just little things—like how you always made me feel safe or how easy it was to talk to you. But then those feelings started growing, and I couldn’t ignore them anymore.”

Harry's grin widened at her words as he leaned in to kiss her gently. Y/N grabbed his jaw, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in his curls while the other hand rested on his jaw. He shifted, positioning himself on top of her, taking her bottom lip in his mouth and sucking it softly.

The kiss quickly grew heated, both of them eagerly longing for this moment.

Y/N had wanted to kiss him the instant she saw how much effort he had put into planning this picnic, how considerate he was being. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, causing Harry to moan softly in response. Their kiss became a delicious mess of tongues, both panting and trying to catch their breath, their foreheads touching.

Harry began trailing kisses her jaw, his lips finding the sensitive spot on her neck. He gently sucked at her skin, eliciting a soft gasp from Y/N as she instinctively arched her back, giving him more access. His hand gravitated to her thighs as he hiked her dress up, trailing his fingers higher. Y/N parted her legs in response, her breath quickening as his fingers brushed the edge of her panties. Restless with desire, she wanted his fingers closer to where she craved them. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in, their lips crashing together. A soft moan escaped her as she felt his fingers pressing against her clit, making her gasp at the pleasure.

Harry began rubbing his finger in tight circles over her clothed clit, feeling her panties grow increasingly damp beneath his touch. Each movement made her wetter, as she lost herself in the sensation as he worked his fingers expertly.

“More,” Y/N whimpered softly into his mouth, her eyes tightly shut in pleasure, a strand of hair sticking to her forehead as she got lost in the delightful sensations.

“Can I take this off, baby?” Harry whispered gently, tapping two fingers on her panties. Y/N nodded vigorously, unable to form a coherent response in the moment. She lifted her back slightly, making it easier for him to pull down her panties. A gasp escaped her lips as the cool air hit her bare center.

Harry began to rub around her clit, gathering her wetness before inserting a finger inside her. She moaned loudly in response, his finger pumping in and out while his thumb moved in tight circles on her clit, leaving her mind hazy with pleasure. His other hand slipped to her chest, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipple.

“Open your eyes, look at me,” Harry commanded. She obeyed, her gaze meeting his, which was nearly completely black with lust, devoid of any trace of green.

“Are you close?” he muttered, kissing the side of her lips, slick with her saliva. Y/N nodded shyly. Harry added another finger, pumping them fiercely while his other hand gently pulled down the neck of her dress, revealing her breast. Her nipples perking as the cool breeze hit them. He kissed her areola before taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking and kissing it softly.

As if he couldn’t get enough, Harry leaned down to her breasts, sucking and softly biting a patch of skin, leaving a hickey behind. Y/N whimpers and moans in response, her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at them slightly, her legs wrapped around him.

The sensations became overwhelming for her, tears streaming down her cheeks in pure bliss. Her moans grew louder as the pressure in her belly reached its peak, her orgasm crashing over her like waves, making her cum.

Harry slowly withdrew his fingers, careful not to hurt her as she was still sensitive. She whimpered at the loss, watching in surprise as he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her. "You taste amazing, baby," he said before leaning down to kiss her, making her taste herself.

Her body felt limp, muscles relaxing and breath evening out. She didn't realize her eyes were drooping until she noticed Harry gently lifting her dress and cleaning her inner thigh with a wet tissue.

He gently scooped sleepy Y/N into his arms, carrying her to his car. He settled her in the seat, adjusting it slightly to make her more comfortable, and buckled her seatbelt. She noticed that he had cleared everything except for the mat and pillow she had been lying on. “Just a moment, baby, I’ll be right back,” Harry said, giving her a soft peck before folding the mat and placing the pillow in the trunk of his car.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The sun was almost set now, hiding behind the array of clouds in the sky. The pink and purple hues of evening began to appear, the air growing chilly as the melody of birds started to slowly fade in the distance.

As they drove, Harry glanced over at Y/N, who was already looking at him with a sleepy smile.

“What?” Harry asked with a soft smile, growing nervous under her stare.

“I really enjoyed today; it all felt like a dream,” Y/N whispered, taking his hand and kissing the back of it.

“Did you like the picnic?” he asked, his voice soft.

A dreamy smile appeared on her lips. “I loved the picnic; it was the best date ever.”

Harry grinned, his heart swelling at her words. “I’m glad. I just wanted to make it special for you.” Harry had spent countless days planning for this picnic to be perfect; he had never organized a date before, but he wanted to make it special for Y/N. He nearly drove himself mad in his efforts to get everything just right.

“It was special, Harry. I loved every bit of it,” she replied, her voice a gentle whisper.

“I love you, you know that?” he said, glancing at her briefly before focusing on the road.

“I love you too,” Y/N smiled, letting her eyes finally drift shut as the soothing sounds of his voice and the gentle hum of the car lulled her into a light sleep. She felt safe and cherished.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🫧 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🫧 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 🫧°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 1 month ago

Note

can you write an OT8 x reader where the reader gets into an a bar fight with a few guys and she calls them?

(you dont have to make it very violent)

𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕤 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕦𝕟!

Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate.

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Y/n knew that since she was out tonight most of her lovers would be awake waiting for her, so getting messages from the group weren't very shocking.

Minho: Text me or Chan when you're ready to go come home bbg.

Hyunjin: All the maknaes miss you but we put them to sleep. hahaha

Chan: Stay safe. Call if any one bothers you. I mean it.

Those were the last two messages from her boyfriends—sent that evening—that she read before quickly tapping out a reply and switching off her phone. The glow of the screen faded, and her attention shifted to one of her friends, Aeri, who was animatedly ordering drinks from the waiter, her laughter ringing out above the chatter of the bar.

She felt a twinge of guilt for shutting her boyfriends out, knowing the hangover was sure to hit her hard the next day, but she reminded herself that she needed this night out. Sure, she'd much rather be home, cozied up with them, sharing quiet moments and stolen kisses. Yet, a deeper part of her understood how long it had been since she'd spent quality time with her girls—Aeri, Charlotte, and Desi—who had been reaching out to her with messages filled with emojis and longing.

The trio had been her support system, her partners in crime, and it felt like ages since they'd laughed until their sides hurt or shared secrets over cocktails. She could see the excitement in Aeri's eyes, and the thought of those familiar faces filled her with warmth. They had missed her, and she had missed them too. Tonight was about reconnecting, about letting go of the weight of everyday life, even if it meant facing a brutal hangover the next morning.

It took them about eight rounds of shots, four cocktails, and two mocktails for Y/n to finally grasp just how intoxicated they all were. Desi hiccuped, her cheeks flushed, and gave Y/n a sly smile. “Y/nnie!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Should we get another round?” Her giggle was infectious, prompting the rest of the girls to join in, laughter echoing around their corner of the bar.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile, but the reality of the situation hit her hard. “I think we need to get home now,” she replied, her tone slightly serious. “Leeknow is going to kill me, and Sun-hoo is definitely going to kill you when you get home.” She quickly waved over the waiter, hoping to end the night on a responsible note.

“NOOO! I’m going to miss you!” Charlotte pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she reached for Y/n’s hand. “Let’s take one more round! I know you’re going to be hibernating once you get home!”

Y/n felt her resolve weakening, the warmth of camaraderie pulling her back in. “Okay, one more round, but that’s it!” she relented, a laugh escaping her lips. In all honesty, she was already pretty far gone, and she knew there was no way she could drive home. So why not enjoy this moment a little longer?

Once she settled the bill—thanks to Changbin practically shoving his card into her hand—Y/n pulled out her phone to dial Chan’s number, knowing he was likely still awake. It only took one ring before his familiar voice came through, raspy from sleep. “Hello? Baby? You there?”

“H-hey Channie,” she slurred, struggling to get off the table while clutching her wallet tightly. Her friends were already heading toward the exit, and she could hear their giggles mingling with the bustling noise of the bar.

“Hey, babygirl? You okay? Need me to pick you up?” Chan asked, already sensing trouble. He was slipping out of bed, careful not to wake Han, who had been snuggled against his side.

“P-pleaseee,” she managed to reply, guilt washing over her. “I’m sorry for—”

“Aeri!” she heard Aeri squeal, drawing her attention just in time to see her friend stumbling and colliding with four guys standing on the pavement outside the bar.

“Aish! Omg!” Y/n sighed, watching as Charlotte and Desi rushed to help Aeri, who was apologizing profusely to the very annoyed group of guys.

“What happened?” Chan asked through the phone, grabbing his keys and heading toward Leeknow’s room to let him know he was heading out.

“One second, babe. Aeri just knocked over some guy’s drink, and he looks really mad,” Y/n explained, stepping closer to the chaotic scene unfolding in front of her.

“Don’t get too involved if they’re super drunk,” Chan warned, his stomach tightening with unease. He could already picture the scene and the potential for trouble, and his protective instincts kicked in. “Just keep an eye on her, okay?”

Y/n nodded, even though Chan couldn’t see her, focusing on smoothing things over with the group outside. She felt the weight of the night settling in, knowing she needed to keep her friends safe while also managing to navigate the rising tension.

“Watch where you’re going slut,” one of the guys grumbled, annoyance etched on his face.

“Excuse me?” Desi jumped in, her confidence shining through. “If you want a new drink, we can totally pay for it. No need to be rude!”

“All you girls do is come out to the bars, get super drunk, and ruin people’s nights,” he shot back, taking a step closer, making Desi feel a bit uneasy.

“We’re really sorry, sir! It won’t happen again,” Y/n said quickly, trying to keep the peace. She reached into her wallet and pulled out some cash. “Here, you can take this for your drink and dry cleaning, ”

“I don’t need your money, okay?” he snapped, swatting the cash from her hand. Y/n stood there, momentarily stunned. Did he just hit her?

“Y/n? Baby? You there?” Chan’s voice crackled through the phone, but she was too shocked to reply.

“Hey, what’s your problem?!” Charlotte piped up, stepping in front of Y/n as she picked up the money from the ground. “Why would you hit a girl?!”

“Y/n?!” Chan’s voice turned urgent as he overheard the commotion. He felt a knot in his stomach. Did Charlotte just say someone hit her? Without hesitation, he shook Changbin awake, urgency in his voice.

“Someone hit Y/n,” he said, his heart racing as he grabbed his jacket. He couldn’t believe this was happening and felt a strong urge to rush to her side.

“Wha—what?! Chan, hold up!” Changbin exclaimed, fully waking up as he scrambled to grab his shoes. Leeknow and Hyunjin soon joined them, both equally confused and moving quickly.

“Why do you both look so panicked? And why are we grabbing our shoes like something just happened?” Leeknow asked, concern growing in his eyes. He knew they would fill him in eventually, but the urgency of the moment pushed him to act.

“Try calling Desi, please!” Chan urged as he attempted to call Y/n again, but she wasn’t picking up.

“I’ll try Aeri,” Changbin said, already dialing.

“I’ll try Charlotte,” Hyunjin added, his brow furrowed in worry.

“Someone hit her,” Chan said, anger bubbling inside him as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“What the hell? Who?” Hyunjin growled, his protective instincts kicking in.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to bash their heads in,” Chan glared at the road, his heart pounding in his chest. Changbin’s frustration mounted as none of the girls answered, while Leeknow stayed focused, knowing Chan was in fight mode.

As they pulled up outside the bar, they spotted the girls standing outside, visibly upset. Charlotte was yelling at a group of guys, her anger palpable.

“Is that them?” Leeknow said, determination setting in.

Without waiting for an answer, Changbin and Leeknow jumped out of the car and charged toward the men.

“I told you, her boyfriends are going to kill you!” Desi smirked as Changbin grabbed one of the guys by the collar. When one of the guy’s friends tried to intervene, Leeknow swiftly blocked the punch and jumped in, igniting a full-on brawl.

The girls watched in shock as Y/n desperately tried to intervene. “Please! Chan, let’s just go home,” she begged, pulling at Hyunjin’s arm.

She felt guilty but couldn’t shake the belief that those men deserved the beating they were getting. Changbin was fierce, and Y/n feared he might send someone to the hospital if it weren’t for the security guards who finally broke up the fight.

“Where did he hit you?” Leeknow growled as he reached Y/n, noting the bruise forming on her wrist and feeling a metallic taste in his mouth from the adrenaline.

She pointed to her wrist, and he let out a frustrated huff before examining it carefully. Chan was making sure the other girls were okay while Hyunjin worked to calm Changbin down.

“This is why we don’t let you out without us,” Chan said, pulling Y/n into a tight hug, relief flooding through him.

“Are you both okay?” he asked, glancing between her and Leeknow before giving Leeknow a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Yeah, are you?” Leeknow replied, steadying Y/n as she swayed slightly; she was still drunk, after all.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken,” Y/n admitted.

“You okay, Hyunjin? Changbin?” Y/n asked softly, her eyes searching their faces for any sign of distress.

“I’m just so happy you’re okay, love,” Hyunjin replied, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss that nearly brought him to tears. “Never scare me like that again. What if we weren’t here, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her sincerity evident. “I really am. It won’t happen again—”

“If it does, I’ll bash them again,” Changbin growled, and everyone chuckled, knowing he was dead serious.

"I don't think it's safe for your friends to go home alone drunk. We'll let them stay at the pool house, yeah?" Chan asks knowing how severely drunk they were.

"Sure my love," he smiled at the response before holding Y/n's purse.

“Take her to the car; I’ll get the rest of the girls,” Chan instructed, heading toward Y/n’s friends. Y/n watched in awe at how much her boyfriends cared for her, and their concern only deepened once they got home.

Changbin carefully carried her to the kitchen, encouraging her to drink some water to help her sober up. Chan led her friends to the pool house outside, where they would be staying over, while Leeknow grabbed the first aid kit and Hyunjin warmed up some food for everyone.

“Never scare me like that,” Changbin grumbled, making her drink more water.

“Mmmm, I love you, Binnie,” she slurred, wrapping her arms around him, feeling safe and cozy.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said again, yawning and slowly resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know you’re tired, babygirl, but I have to ice that bruise. It looks nasty,” Leeknow said gently as he examined her wrist.

She instinctively pulled it away, whimpering at the pain, her reaction adorably cute.

“Don’t make me fight you on this,” Leeknow said, giving her a playful glare. She finally relented, “Fine…” she mumbled, knowing he had her best interests at heart.

“Okay, everyone is asleep, and I’m filing a report in the morning,” Chan announced as he walked back into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s waist and planting soft kisses on his cheek.

“What a night, right guys?” Changbin chuckled, spooning some food into Y/n’s mouth, hoping no one would ever try something like that again.

“Huh?” Y/n blinked, still a little dazed but comforted by the warmth of her boyfriends around her.

Funny thing is, she never remembered a thing when she next woke-up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

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