#saroo x reader

Getting emotion out of Saroo usually had to happen by you picking a fight, you letting him ruin you for a few hours until he wanted to talk about what had him upset.

You don’t mind getting mercilessly destroyed by him. It was one of your favorite things, but you were never sharp enough to talk to him after. You were often asleep before you could find out what had him worked up in the first place.

But now it’s the two of you, at his place, and you’re trying to explain this to the smartest and dumbest man you know.

“Saroo, I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think it would be good.” You reason, nuzzling into your boyfriend’s neck. He’s been stressed, obviously, and it was just a suggestion.

“So you’ll be in charge?” You want to roll your eyes. He’s never been out of control before, he’s never been taken the way he takes you.

“Yeah,” Saroo backs up, propping himself up on his elbow to stare at you. He grazes his hand against your cheek, gently moving hair away, as you try not to get frustrated.

You’d been seeing each other for a few months, but now he was taking a trip to India for an uncertain amount of time. In your head, if you fucked him right tonight, he’d come back.

“But I like taking care of you.” He emphasizes the last word, leaning down to brush his nose against yours

“And you do a great job,” you stick out your lips on a dramatic pout, “let me return the favor.”

Saroo smiles as he pecks your lips loudly, “Okay.”

His grin was smug as it ever was, and it dawns on you that he doesn’t have a clue as to what it is to be you. The surrender, the trust you would give to him every single time.

“I’m just here to make you feel good. Same as usual. Say Tiger if it's too much.” You order, as you direct his wrists down to each side of his head.

Shuffling gracelessly with the sheets, Saroo keeps his eyes fixed on you as you, stiffening as you settle down between his legs. He doesn’t need much to get hard, just the warmth and the weight of you is more than enough.

You know this, and you use it against him.

His shirt is pulled up slightly, and you trace a pattern on his stomach with your nose. He wants to grab your hair and claim your mouth until you beg for mercy, but he doesn’t. Saroo’s determined to let you have this.

“Can you be a good boy for me?” You ask sweetly, keeping one eye on the growing hardness in Saroo’s pajama pants, you slowly tug low enough that he can spring free. He makes a low groan as you swat his hands away.

“...Maybe.” He concedes. It was getting strange, he was hearing his heart pound in his ears, and there you were, like you wanted to eat him alive, just watching him squirm.

“Even if I do this?” You lean down suddenly and graze the side of his length with your tongue. It’s soft, it’s gentle, it’s absolutely foreign. But this is a period of great transition, why couldn’t he branch out?

“Uhhh.” He groans dramatically, a rush of feelings to sort through. Was he mad that this wasn’t the usual routine, or was he getting scared of your softness.

In an effort to put the thoughts away, he reaches down to grab your hair. He usually would be fucking your throat, but you don’t let him, catching his wrist and directing his hand down by his side.

“Hands to yourself!” You put on a grandiose, patronizing tone, “I wanna spoil you! Don’t you want that?” You ask as he blinks, trying to keep his mind organized, simply shaking his head yes.

“You want my mouth?” You question and he rolls his eyes.

“Yes an-” -d the rest of you too! But you're ahead of him. If you ever rolled your eyes, he’d spank your pussy until you cried. He would not accept this behavior, neither will you.

Brat. You almost say, but you don’t. For revenge, you grip him a little too tightly, letting your thumb graze a favorite vein of his. Saroo gives you a low groan as you absentmindedly toy with his member. When you pull just right, he bucks his hips into you.

So you let go, and he’s sure he’s about to cry.

“No self control, huh.” You state, mocking, voice bordering on venomous.

His heart’s pounding, he’s hard, and you’re mean.

“What if I tied you up just to use you?” You ask, and he gapes. You're his dolly, you don’t speak to him like this.

“You could do whatever you want.” He replies plainly, practically whining as you give him another small lick.

“That’s what I thought.” Your smile is an absolute joke, you’re a goddamn sadist. Saroo was starting to ache, and with you keeping his wrists away didn’t help. But he thought he could reason with you.

“Ask.” You command

“Please, please can I have you please?” He breathes as you smile into his mouth. Not quite a kiss, closer to breathing together.

“You want my pussy?” You mock quietly, seeing all 6’2 of him start to shake. He promised...

“Yes!” He gasps, the flame you’d set in his stomach growing into a fire, and like some kind of jungle cat, you pounce.

Saroo’s breath catches as he suddenly feels you against him, putting your mouth against his, right where it’s supposed to be.

He keeps his eyes closed as you direct him into your soaking heat.

He feels your nails dig into his wrists, and then nothing.

Several heartbeats pass, and he can practically feel your dazzling, smug smile against his mouth.

“Please move, YN.” He knows he could toss you down and take you, but it’s better to ask. It’s better to ask permission. You wanted him to beg? He’d beg.

But you take your time, starting slowly, taking all of him.

“Nice and easy,” You coax as you grind down into him, “Such a good little toy.” His torso stiffens at that, as if it was some kind of insult. But the words don’t sting.

Maybe he likes being a toy. Just a sweet toy that you can use and abuse. Absolutely dumb.

“Please.” All of the tension of his project, the fact he’d finally found his home, the ache of your teasing, it all crawls up his spine in a burning heat.

“Almost-” You know he’s close as his thrusts up get slower, sloppier. Saroo’s eyes are still shut as you direct his hands to your hips, letting him hold on to you.

Your praise turns into gasps and moans as you feel him fall apart underneath you. Saroo’s mind hasn’t been this clear in months. When you clench down around him, he’ll catch you. He always wants to catch you.

With his mouth, of course.

“You're such a good boy,” he whines, as you lean down to kiss him. “I’m proud of you. You're so brave, tough, and smart.” You hear a little huff, and his dark eyes are soft as he stares at you.

“Everything is going to pay off. It’s all going to be worth it.” Saroo takes a hand and rests it on the side of your neck. You take the opportunity to dismount, and let him go. You’d have to pay him back for this, but you’re just as tired as you would be were the positions reversed.

“Just be safe. Take lots of pictures.” You cringe internally, thinking how you sounded like his Mother, but what you get in return is so much better.

As you run your hands over his chest, and feel his heart over the haze, and let the words soak into your skin.

You just needed to talk for a few minutes. All of these reporters and yet you’d seen it up close. Trying to find his family had almost broken him, and now he’s here, laughing with his people.

That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t do parties, so you order a drink.

“Hey babe,” your friend Ella pops up to join you, “Tonight better be the night.” She orders an Appletini and drinks it in two sips. 

“Night for what?” Ella talks a lot, you can’t keep up with all of it. “I have no idea what you mean.” You tighten your grip on the cold glass the bartender passes you, she sees.

“No more sad shit, boss up. Literally quit yearning, I’m here to help you get over it.” Elle squeezes your shoulder.

“What a pal,” you reply dryly.

She’s right. You’re not going to admit it. You sneak a look, trying everything you can not to stare.

He’s with her. There was something you didn’t like about Lucy, but so what? Ella chatters at you, you laugh and listen against the white noise of the crowded bar.

You’re two drinks deep, so you ponder, like most drunk people do.

Her eyes don’t change. They’re flat like a shark. You smile even though your throat’s burning. 

She doesn’t move her face when she speaks, you snort into your drink.

You’re just out of it enough that you’re staring at the two of them. There’s not much to be done at this point.

Elle drags you out onto the floor for a slow dance, because she’s trashed. You’re glad she’s here though. She’s a little insane, but she’s right.

If she sees right through you, could he? Does he even want to?

Miss Shark eyes glances over at you a few times. She’s smiling but not really.

Pressure in your chest releases when she walks up the steps, out the front door.

Was she truly so horrible, or did you just desperately want what she had? Saroo looks over at you, and you freeze, like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

Maybe you were.

The air in the bar suddenly felt thin, and you grasp Elle’s shoulder, practically shouting into her ear.

“I’m tired, can we go?” Elle’s smile falls, only for a moment. Her eyes flick across the room to Saroo, who had since started to chat with another friend.

“Of course! Maybe we can see a movie?” No. ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days’ was showing at the local movie draft house, and it wasn’t what you needed right now.

Elle stares at you sadly, in the way only a close friend could. You’re yearning, she’s right, but you have no idea how to explain how you feel. There’s a gap in your chest. You couldn’t quite tell what was supposed to fit there. 

Were you angry?  Were you sad?  Or was there just...nothing?

“Maybe we just need a change of scenery.” She squeezes your cheeks before redirecting you towards the steps. You knew you were a lightweight, but damn your depth perception was gone. The small, worn out wooden stairs didn’t help.

“YN.” Oh no.

You made it to the first step, you were taking it slow, but you turn a little too quickly, you bump right into his chest. He’s wearing the same grey t-shirt he was wearing in the photos he’d shown you of his family.

“Wow, gone wild tonight?” He laughs, tight grip around you.

“We’re just on our way out.” You barely have a whisper to respond. Your eyes are half shut and you feel Elle staring holes into the back of your head.

Your friend pinches you when you take too long to respond. His heartbeat is distracting, it’s not your fault. He puts your feet evenly back on the floor, hand resting on the small of your back , supporting you as you figure out how to connect your mind to your body getting up the rickety steps.

You aren’t quite sure why your wobbling anymore.

You take a breath as you step up onto the street, cool air a relief to your flushed face.

“How much have you had?” Saroo asks, giving you the side eye. This is what happens when you’re left unsupervised, he’s MIA for months, he needed to handle the changes. You could spit back something cutting, but Elle takes over. “Not much, she’s a lightweight but we love her, right Saroo?” trying to give you a dramatic kiss on the side of your head, but she misses horribly.

You cringe.

There’s another pause you don’t quite know what to do with.

Elle breaks it once more, “I’ll see you tomorrow babes, I’m gonna catch this cab,” Elle smiles, throwing her jacket over her shoulder, sliding into the cab, only to stick her head out the window and yell, “Saroo, get her home safe!”

You were gonna kill her next time you saw her. You’re alone with him now.

How did he get prettier in the street lights?

“I’m walking this way.” You gesture a random direction as an excuse to leave, he’s with someone else and you needed to handle it on your own time, not his. “I’ll go with you, we can catch up.” He says brightly, keeping pace with you, feet scuffing on the pavement.

You make it about a block before you come up with words. Being drunk and in love is a bad combination.

“So how’s things?” You are so lame, but you smile at him.

It’s not your fault he smiles back. Maybe you were too far gone, but why not think good things for once? “Good?” He replies, shrugging. A yellow traffic light is bouncing off his skin and you’re sure you’re not going to make it home. “Yeah, I heard that.” Saroo looks at your face as you say it casually. He’d told all of his closest friends what had happened, and this wasn’t how it had gone with anyone else.

“Your so brave and shit,” You poke him in the chest, he blinks at you, “you made it happen.” He takes your arm when you nearly miss a step on the uneven pavement. He had some nerve, acting like he didn’t know he had sent sparks up to your shoulder. How dare he not know what you don’t tell him?

“Thanks.” He laughs in reply. Suddenly you feel winded, pulling him to a stop. “Your really pretty too.” You poke his cheek, wobbling in your boots. You parley this into a hand on his face, it feels like he

“You’re the best person I know, actually.” You smile up at him, leaning heavily as the ruckus of ‘tourist season’ kicked into full swing.

“Funny, I could say the same about you.” Your heart jumps, nearly knocking you over.

His eyes crinkle softly at the edges, so you just have to kiss him. You just have to! 

You could blame the alcohol, or you could blame your friend. He’d just done something impossible, why couldn’t you? He’s out of your league, but you’d be damned if you didn’t swing for the fences.

At least that’s something Elle would say.

You don’t pull him down to you, you get up on your tiptoes so he has to support you.

If you want to get as close to him as possible, he must feel the same. The person you know so well is wrapped around you tightly, lips pressed to yours.

 A spark of annoyance flares in your brain, you should be on the top your your game for this. It’s what he deserves.

It’s what you deserve too.

The feeling fades quickly as adjusts his mouth, pressing small kisses across your face, getting gentle only at your eyelids.

You giggle softly, wrinkling your nose as his beard tickles your face. He moves his hands to your hips, and you loop your arms around his neck, pulling gently at a handful of hair. You were about to go flying off into space, and if a grip on his hair would save you, so be it.

It’s either a moment or an hour, but you whine as he pulls away, your face hot.

“Fuck I’m sorry.” He’s panting, “we’re trashed.” You frown. He’s right, but you still want more. Your eyes are closed, overwhelmed.

You feel his hands, come up to either side of your face. He presses another soft kiss into your lips, catching the moan there. You’re going to melt into a puddle on the sidewalk, but here he is, holding you up.

His breath sets your hold body on fire, and the effect of the alcohol is nonexistent.

You wonder if he wants to pull away and act like this never happened, but he doesn’t. He rests his forehead against yours and the sounds of the city fall away.

“When I have you, you’re gonna remember it.” The words are soft and kind, yet he sends a jolt up your spine. You could whine about how he’s not being fair, but he is. You know he is.

You want him, and you’re going to have him. You smile into his shirt.

Words. What are words?

“Saroo.” You rasp, holding onto his shoulders. “Yes?”

“I don’t know which way I’m walking.” You hear him chuckle, how it rumbles in his chest.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Saroo is a lion in more ways that one. When he’s got you good an exhausted, he just has to put his mouth on every single part of you. You fall asleep under him, feeling his teeth tugging at you, it’s soothing. 

He can’t get to sleep otherwise. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Saroo’s a big fan of your hair. He loves pulling it during sex, and he almost always has his hands in it otherwise. No matter what length you keep it, he’s a big fan of your hair, and pulling it. 

As for himself, he’s a big fan of his wrists. He likes your grip on his wrists whenever he’s got his hands on you. The way your nails dig into his wrists when he’s got you desperate is unreal to him. You’re off on work trips a lot, and you always come back with some kind of bracelet or watch to show you how much you love them. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

You met him when you were interviewing him about his book, you went into this relationship with your eyes wide open, and he’s so grateful to you. You knew all of his baggage and you wanted him anyway. 

This being said, he’d love a family with you ASAP. He just needs to get the nerve to talk to you about it first. Saroo’s got nothing left to be afraid of, but he’s intimidated by that conversation. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

… he likes biting you. A lot. You have to go to work and act like you don’t have a bite mark inside of your thigh, but he comes in to see you and the annoyance melts away. He’d never cop to it to anyone. Ever. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Saroo isn’t that experienced, and that news left you stunned. When you first saw him, your mouth went dry. You had to shoot your shot, you had the confidence, and it paid off for the both of you. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Saroo loves being behind you, hand on your neck, other on your hip. Your back is so smooth, and sweet. Your favorite position is anything where he’s in control. You trust Saroo completely and it scares you, but he’s never given you a reason to doubt him. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? 

He’s serious in the moment, he likes to focus on you. Saroo makes it a point to put his hands on as much of you as possible. You’ve become an anchor for him, and he lets you know how much he needs you. 

He’s a total goof in real life. You’ve heard that his emotional stability evened out after he found his lost family, and even more after he met you. Every time he makes a joke or laughs, your heart just … OOF.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The first time you saw Saroo, his hair was what got your attention. It was well kept and soft, curly. It’s a bit jarring to walk into a meeting and think “yeah, I’d pull that hair”, and now you’re the only one who gets to. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

After Saroo had gotten his book published, he swore that he’d turn over a new leaf. He promised since he’d put himself through hell, he had nothing else to hide from. He’s as intimate as it gets, and you’re grateful. 

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

Since he splits his time between Australia and India, he goes a bit more frequently. He tends to stare at the ceiling and re-live his time with you in his brain before jacking off. Sometimes you call him and work him up a bit, just for fun. When he’s overseas you get control back, and you take full advantage. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves PDA, things always escalate quickly. You guys aren’t having sex in public, but you might as well be if you’ve got your legs wrapped around him in a random bathroom. 

He loves some choking. The feeling of your pulse under his thumb is an absolute honor, and he takes full advantage of that trust. 

Hair pulling, either yours or his, it’s a1.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He keeps it in the bedroom, he’s boring like that. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You’re a journalist, you tend to keep in the loop on a lot of things most people wouldn’t have information about. In other relationships this has made you insecure, as it felt like a lot of information to drop on someone, but with him, he’ll listen to you infodump all day. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He HATES any restraints, on him. not you though...😛

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s new-ish to giving, but he gets the hang of it quickly. The second he figures out how much you like his beard, he decides to become an expert. 

He’s a bit shocked about about how you’re down to give him head, but what’s he gonna do? Complain? No.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bruh. Saroo’s always in control, and he does whatever the hell he wants. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t really his thing. He likes teasing while you guys are out, but waiting until you’re alone is the best part.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes what he likes and that’s it. He likes you most out of what he likes, so if you ask for something, you’ll get it. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s got a stupid amount of stamina, and you have no idea where it comes from. It’s baffling. Maybe it’s the surfing? 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s not about the toys, he’s a bit of a control freak, and he sees toys as a bit of an unknown. What he won’t say is that he sees it as doing you a disservice. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Once you guys settle into a relationship dynamic, you’re a massive tease in public. You take a bit of a buffalo stance, because he teases you right back, just as much. He puts his hand on your leg when you’re out with friends, and you casually play with his hair when you’re out for drinks. 

All of your friends think your insufferable. 

Wash, Rinse, Repeat. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When you guys were just getting together, he started off with smaller gasps, and whines that drove you absolutely insane. Now that it’s been a while, he’s loud. 

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

You’re a journalist, sent out to Australia to interview an Author about their first book, it was a crazy autobiography that you’d been able to get an early release of. It was truly insane, and you couldn’t wait to talk with this person. 

It was a good excuse to go to Australia, you’re always looking for good reasons to get out of the country, expand your horizons while you were still young and reckless enough to do so. 

The one hang-up is the author forgot to mention how handsome they were in the book, you were caught off guard to say the least. Saroo was burnt out at that point, but seeing someone like you he was speechless. You both don’t talk for a few minutes, until you do. 

All you do is talk for hours and hours. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

You weren’t surprised in the slightest. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Super high, it’s a but overwhelming. He spoke with you about this before, worried that he might be too much for you, but you basically told him that after all of that trauma, this shouldn’t even be on his mind. You do love that he was thinking that deeply into your relationship, but he didn’t need to be. 

Basically, it was coded language for you being happy in the bedroom, and he definitely picked up on it. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re his pillow, and you love it. As long as he can hear your heartbeat, he could fall asleep anywhere. On paper, it should be odd for someone to see a 6′2 grown man wrapped up around their partner, but it works for you just fine.