#and idk how to write some of their voices yet
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stellar-haikyuu · 1 day ago
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no regrets ☆ sugawara koushi x reader
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synopsis: before their third year starts, an evening walk changes everything between reader and their best friend, koushi. details: fluff, opposites attract, childhood friends to lovers, first kiss, ~1.7k words, gn! reader. requested by @liquidcatt as part of my karasuno writing event (requests open) warnings: none! just repetitive use of the title and idk how to write kissing yet LOL
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One week before your third and final year of high school, you realize that you’ll soon be experiencing multiple “lasts” before a new chapter of your life begins.
Now, you don't normally care about these things, but you can’t help it when Koushi calls you that evening.
Apparently, he made an impulsive decision to go on a walk, and he now wants your company.
You groan at him through the phone and he laughs. Of course, he knows there’s no real anger behind it. He’s the only person in the world you would drop everything for without a second thought.
“I’m sor-” he tries, but you hang up on him, cutting off his “apology.” Huffing with amusement, you rummage through your closet for something that would keep you warm.
After pulling on a sweater, you let your parents know you’re heading out. They barely glance up from the television before nodding in acknowledgment. It’s been years since they decided that hangouts with your best friend no longer warrant further questions.
The cold wind greets you as you step outside. You shiver a little, but you slowly adjust to the temperature as you wait for Koushi. 
After a few minutes, you hear the sound of footsteps against the pavement. They stop right outside your gate, and you can see the telltale tuft of gray hair peeking out from behind.
“Koushi.” You greet him with an air of nonchalance as you open the gate. 
Your tone has always been a little flat—an unintentional habit of yours. You don’t have it in you to amp up the energy like everyone else does, but your friend has never minded it, even when he is the very definition of sunshine and chaos.
“Heh,” he chuckles sheepishly. “Hope you weren’t too busy.”
You half-heartedly glare at him, which makes him ruffle your hair. In response, you swat his hand away and try to smooth down the mess he’s made.
“You’re just lucky I was bored out of my mind,” you mutter, stepping out onto the sidewalk, and letting the gate shut behind you.
“This is the hundredth time I’ve been lucky.” He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe you do like me after all,” he teases.
Your stomach does a flip. 
Is he onto me?
“Sh-shut up!” You stammer, elbowing him in the side. 
“Ow!” He yelps, clutching at his ribs as if you’ve stabbed him. “Hey, I’ve got volleyball practice soon, don’t give me an injury.”
“You’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes at his theatrics, watching as he rubs his side in an attempt to soothe the pain. As he pouts and mumbles something under his breath, you brave a quick look at him.
He’s wearing that adorable blue scarf again—well, it’s yours, actually. You lent it to him in first year when he forgot his scarf on a chilly evening. For some reason, you insisted that he keep it, and now he wears it all the time with no fail. 
(His reasoning? “Maybe you’ll miss your blue scarf, so I’m just going to wear it every time we walk together.”
You remember staring at him in disbelief, but internally, you were maybe five seconds away from passing out.)
“Agh. Gosh, why didn’t you go for martial arts or something,” Koushi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie.
“I don’t have that kind of energy.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want my punches to hurt even more.”
“Fair point,” he concedes with a laugh.
The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, making the sound of leaves rustling much louder. When you glance at Koushi, his expression has shifted. He looks thoughtful, his gaze fixed ahead but distant, as though he’s turning something over in his mind.
“Why’d you call me out here?” You ask.
“Hm? It’s just…” Koushi hesitates for a moment, his voice softening. “We’re almost done with high school.”
The reality of his words hit you. “We are. But hey, I’m a year closer to my librarian dreams.”
“Ha. You’ve never really changed your mind, huh?”
“Nope.” You shake your head, popping the ‘p’ sound. “How about you, still wanna be a teacher?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Dead set on it now, actually.”
“Good,” you say firmly. “You better keep your promise to apply to the same school. Don’t leave me to fend for myself in college or at work.”
“You’re not going to die, gosh,” Koushi laughs, shaking his head. “What are you going to do when strangers come up to you in the library to ask about different things?”
“That’s a problem for future me.” You scrunch your nose. Unfortunately, no job is exactly the way you want it to be.
“We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. But now, there’s one more year ahead of us,” he sighs.
“Yeah.” You tilt your head, brows furrowing slightly. “Is there something wrong?”
“Not really…” He trails off. “I just…I’ve been thinking a lot about how these months will be full of last chances.”
Last chances?
“I guess I couldn’t help but worry about how I need to make every moment count. I don’t want to waste opportunities.”
Oh.
Koushi stops walking for a moment and turns to you. “Am I making any sense?”
You study his expression. The faint lines of uncertainty on his face say enough. “You are. What brought this on?”
“It’s the volleyball team.” He confesses, his gaze flickering downward as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I still want to stay. I still want to go to Nationals. I know that we may not be the best in the prefecture, but…it’s not stupid to hope, right?”
For a few seconds, you think about it. You’re no stranger to hoping for good things, even when it seems impossible. 
You spent your childhood hoping for a best friend, even though most kids never wanted to approach you. Yet, here you are, years later. 
(Now, you’re just holding onto the hope that your feelings for him will be returned.)
“No, Koushi. It’s not stupid,” you reply, despite the subtle ache in your chest.
“Thanks.” His eyes brighten at your response, and you can’t help but let a small grin form on your face.
That’s my dreamer.
You recall how painful it was to see him realize that Karasuno was no longer the powerhouse he imagined. But, the fact that he hasn’t thought of giving up once is a testament to his true strength.
“Well, I just hope we’re lucky enough to get some more first-years.” A puff of steam leaves his mouth. “And I hope Asahi and Nishinoya come back as soon as possible.”
His voice falters slightly at the mention of his teammates. You instinctively reach out to take his hand in quiet support. That incident had upset him more than he let on.
“But no matter what happens, I’ll work hard,” he continues with conviction. “I want to finish this year with no regrets.”
“No regrets,” you echo his words in affirmation. Your heart hammers in your chest.
Should I do it?
“Hey, are you okay?”
What if this is my last chance?
“You’ve been staring for a while.”
What if someone else takes this moment from me?
“Hey.”
Do it. Come on.
“You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
No regrets.
“Koushi?”
“Oh, there! Thank goodness. What happened?” His voice sharpens in concern.
You close your eyes, willing yourself not to chicken out.
“No regrets,” you murmur to yourself.
He blinks at you, taken aback by your cryptic behavior. “Um, yes, that’s what I said.”
“I wanna do that too,” you admit with a steady tone.
“That’s…good?” he replies, but the confusion turns his statement into a question.
“So, to start the year off strong…” You let go of your grip on his hands and take a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you.
“Koushi.” You look away momentarily, trying to find the words. “I don’t know when I started feeling this way, but…” 
You force yourself to meet his gaze, and you reach a hand out to tug on his scarf, bringing him closer to you.
Your faces are mere inches apart now; you can feel his warm breath on your face. The fact that he doesn’t protest or pull away gives you the confidence to continue.
“I like you,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips crash into yours. You’re frozen, stunned by the fact that Koushi reciprocated. 
This is actually happening.
He’s kissing me.
One of his hands finds its way to the base of your neck, while the other wraps securely around your waist. His touch is gentle but grounding. It’s almost like he’s afraid to let you go.
You can’t take it anymore. 
The longing you’ve kept bottled inside for years finally explodes.
Releasing your grip on his scarf, you move your hands to the base of his neck instead, pulling him down a bit more. The height difference sends a quiet thrill through your body, leaving you giddy.
You part for a moment to gasp for air, but your lips find each other again. They seem to slot together perfectly, you think, as though you were made for each other.
You sigh at the feeling of shared warmth between your bodies, a stark contrast to the nighttime climate. Carding your fingers through his soft hair, you think about how much you’ve dreamed of spending the rest of your life with him.
No one understands you the way Koushi does. No one gets you like he does. Even when people questioned your friendship dynamics, you both found ways to defy the odds. The realization nearly makes you cry in the middle of this romantic moment, but there’s no way you’re letting Koushi use that against you.
As much as you want this kiss to stretch into eternity, your lungs are starting to burn. Reluctantly, you pull away once more, but this time, your chest is filled with something like peace and contentment.
Koushi rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath. He giggles with pure joy. “So, no regrets? I totally don’t have any.”
There may be last chances, but also new beginnings
“Yeah, me too. No regrets.”
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masterlist
karasuno fic event: stellar's stationery (ongoing)
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katatty · 19 hours ago
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Shifting Priorities
Thank you for all the nice comments yesterday! Some really helpful perspectives that gave me a lot of ideas on how I can tackle my simmer's block :)
Mostly, I think I need to trim down the number of neighbourhoods I consider "active" and the amount of projects I am doing in general. I have a hard time letting go of neighbourhoods, especially if I am still somewhat invested in them! But I also need to face the fact that I only have so much free time, and do not want playing the sims to be the sole thing I do with that free time XD
For some neighbourhoods I will also be trying out a more stripped-down approach to blogging, similar to what I've been doing with Driftwood. It makes me a little sad because I like my sims to feel fleshed out as characters and giving them voices is a big part of that! But maybe I can save the prose/dialogue for times when it is particularly needed, rather than including it as a default.
Finally, I am going to prioritise based on what I actually have the most fun with, rather than letting popularity drive my decisions!! Some neighbourhoods I feel sad about potentially retiring because I know people enjoy them, or I feel bad admitting I am never going to finish projects people were excited for, but I have to remember simming is something I do for myself, not for popularity or for other people.
So, plans for my neighbourhoods:
Pleasantview Plus - will continue in its current form for the most part, but holdholds I found less inspiring will just get short summaries rather than extensive documentation. This hood is waaaaaaay too big and I think not that many people follow it all that closely, but it's also my one true love and I would like to start prioritising it again rather than it always being on the backburner
Uberhood Challenge (YouTube Series) - This is a short-term series, and will continue as planned until I finish the challenge, which I'm over halfway through :)
Hollyhead - I hate to say it because I know a lot of people love it, but I feel like I have sorta outgrown this neighbourhood? Some simmers like their settings to be an escape from the real world, and when I made Hollyhead I think it was what I needed too, but these days I find how upbeat & wholesome it is a bit, idk, constraining?? I crave drama and conflict in my stories!! I also have kinda lost interest in the BACC rules and have started to find it more book-keeping and hassle for what I get out of it... Whenever I do open the neighbourhood I still really enjoy actually playing it, and I love the characters so much, but I just haven't found the events interesting enough to want to write about. I think this neighbourhood will not be retired completely (yet), but I will move towards writing much shorter updates in the form of newspaper articles and see if that helps. If by the end of this season I still feel ehhh about it, I might formally end it <3
Driftwood - no complaints about this hood, I'll probably continue with the current style of documenting major events & new builds only
Spruceburg (YouTube series) - I would like to do another season of this next year, after I finish the uberhood challenge! But I will probably go for a schedule of like, one season of series per year, rather than posting consistantly. I enjoy YouTube a lot, but its a lot of work too and I think has majorly taken away from my blogging time this year, which I am mourning now lol!!
The Fiero Legacy - it is probably time to throw in the towel with this and admit I just don't enjoy playing legacy style or with story progression that much! I always enjoy the period where the heir is dating but once they settle down and have kids it becomes a chore and a grind, plus with story progression's time system I always feel rushed and like I can't take a sim out of the house for an outing without potentially missing important milestones - the urban setting feels so wasted when its all family gameplay, haha. Hallie should be at the club!! It was an interesting experiment and a nice change of pace, but idk if I really see myself returning to it. I love the sims themselves and the setting, but whenever I actually load up the neighbourhood I just feel kinda stressed and overwhelmed :(
As for my building projects like Belladonna Cove, perhaps at some point I will get really inspired and return to them but for now they are on indefinite break. I remember saying a few time in the past that I didn't really feel much need to make over Pleasantview and Strangetown because if I wanted nice makoevers I would use frottanas, and tbh I feel the same way about Belladonna Cove - if I was playing it I would just use plumbtales makeovers XD With my past neighbourhood makeovers I was really inspired to make them because there wasn't anything out there that was exactly what I wanted but, well, there's loooooads of nice Belladonna cove makeovers these days so I just don't feel much drive to make my own version I guess?? I think I also have lost interest in building a little becasue I am no longer into super heavily decorated lots - I prefer lighter lots that won't cause lag lol! So yeah, I am probably not retiring from building forever but its no longer a priority for me :)
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justanotherfanwriter · 2 years ago
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And they were ROOMmates
Cht list: (1) (2) (3) (4)
a/n: here’s what Black*Star’s going to be doing in this story lol. Every soul eater arc had something just plain nonsensical in it, and I wanted to emulate that <3 because the dumb stuff was the best stuff.
As always, thank you for your kind words and support. I’ve had this chapter written for a while, but I was too nervous to post it. Can’t move on until I post it tho so here it is! Please forgive me for any occ-ness. Trying to write all seven of them and having them talk over each other like they do in the canon is easier said than done for me, but I think I have my basic plot foundation laid out for the rest of the story 😊  
fyi I put this story on ao3 (as requested), so don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos (if you want lol). I’ll continue to update on tumblr as well!
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The DWMA clinic they were currently in was not on school property but nearer to Star and Tsu's apartment. Thanks to Medusa, the clinic on the school's main campus was now solely used for school emergencies that occurred on campus for accountability purposes. It was an effort to counter-act any other "black blood" level stunt. The rule had been met with only minor opposition, mainly from Professor Stein, but his complaints were largely ignored.
The building was a remodeled urgent care that took patients from Death City and some of the surrounding counties, and then, of course, the DWMA students or agents injured during missions. It was a nice little set-up, and "special" agents, like Maka, occupied the top floor, which required a key pass to access. Soul pressed the key pass the nurses had provided him to the pad before hitting the button to level five.
"Can we not mention this to Maka? I don't want her to worry," He requested as the elevator doors shut, blocking their view of the Program Agents that had swarmed the cafeteria, trying desperately to rub elbows with Kid. Marc, everyone's favorite cafeteria attendant, had caused quite the stir, but nothing big enough, in Soul's opinion, that required a team of thirty brown nosers and suck-ups.
He didn't look away from the panel of buttons to know his request had the rest of the group shifting their collective gaze toward Black*Star, who paused scraping around the inside of his ear to glare back at them.
"Oye!" He scowled like they had insulted his very being, "Why are you all looking at me? What! Do you really think I'm just gonna walk in there, blurt out Soul got his ass kicked, and that Kid—"
"—stole my fucking shot!" Black*Star yelled, bouncing up and down on Maka's bed, "Just stole it! I mean, what the hell kinda bullshit is that, huh!?"
"Stop jumping!" Soul growled, reaching to steady Maka as Tsubaki latched onto Black*Star's legs, echoing his sentiments, "Black*Star, be gentle!"  
His legs being rendered immobile didn't stop Black*Star from monologuing. He waved his arms dramatically in the air, "It was going to be perfect! I shimmed up onto the ceiling and was strategically swinging my way across the room using the light fixtures when—"
"Wait, are you okay?" Maka asked him, furrowing her brows as she spoke over Black*Star. Her arms wrapped around his as she searched his face for clues.
Soul scowled, stepping out of her grasp. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. "Don't be dumb." He tsked, "Do I look hurt?"
His answer didn't alleviate the worry on her face as she turned to examine the others, "Is this person still here?"  
"Of course not!" Kid sputtered, taking a step toward them, "I've had them—"
"Ah! Ah! No! You're not allowed out of your corner yet!" Maka ripped around, jabbing a finger in their Death Lord's direction, "I'm still mad at you."
Kid shrank in on himself, turning to face the wall again.  
With a satisfied nod, Maka relaxed against her pillows, no longer glaring but obviously, to him, still worried about the predicament. It wasn't like Liz had been wrong. No good had ever come out of a trip to the hospital, and he and Maka knew that better than anyone.
"Well, I guess that's why you took so long then, huh? Here, I thought you had ended up ditching me," She sighed, her gaze falling back to him. Her smile was small but genuine. She had never had a big smile, like Black*Star or Patty, but she had a way of making someone feel like they were the only person in a crowded room when she smiled like that.
"Wow, ye of little faith," He shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling back, "Sorry about the food."
"It's fine, it's fine," She waved him off, "what's one more night of applesauce and watery chicken broth?"
"If I had known you were hungry, I would have brought something. I've been stress-baking," Tsubaki confessed with a sheepish look as she sat down in the chair by Maka's bedside, the one that had formally been his, but if anyone was going to steal his spot, he was perfectly fine with it being her. Tsubaki gingerly held one of Maka's hands in her own, "We were only just now allowed to come visit. They said family-only for the first 24 hours."
Maka shot him a look, and he shrugged, "If anyone asks, you're my half-sister."
"Wouldn't everyone here know better?"
He stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket, "I made a compelling argument, I guess."
He had threatened the nurses and doctors, of course, with his blade, but same difference. It wasn't like Maka needed all the tiny details anyway, she was healing.
Liz wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned toward Maka with a conniving little smirk Soul didn't like, "I told him he should have said you two had gotten hitched. Way more believable, and they can't refuse a spouse."
"No," He sniffed, refusing to meet Maka's eyes, "Half-sister."
"Speaking of visitors, has anyone else been by to see you, Maka?" Kid asked the wall.
Soul stiffened on his own accord, slipping out of Liz's hold as he answered quickly for her, "No."
He watched Kid from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction, who stood up straighter with surprise. "Really?"  
"Why?" Soul asked, really watching him now, wondering who the hell they should have been expecting. Other agents, maybe, with a slip changing Soul’s assignment to Antarctica? Had Harvar followed through on his threat?
The tone of his voice must have caught Kid off guard because he pushed away from the wall with large eyes and exclaimed, "But Spirit's been going crazy! He's left early every single day!"
Soul blinked and then forced himself to unclench his jaw and relax his shoulders.
"Oh, uh, yeah, Spirit's been by, obviously, but no one else. At least, not while I've been here." He shrugged, banishing Harvar from his thoughts. Kid was here, for Maka's sake, not to hit him with a pink slip. Why he had ever thought differently was insulting to his friend, but he kept his apologies to himself.
"Actually, I would like to see him here less," Maka rolled her eyes, "please."
Kid smiled smugly at Liz, "So he isn't cutting work."
"No," He and Maka said flatly, "he's cutting work."
Liz rolled her eyes, plopping down on the bed, "I'd rather him here than at work. Kid's right. He's been an absolute mess."
Maka opened her mouth to retort when Patty jumped up from the ground, holding up a piece of paper she had been scribbling on since they had all seemingly collapsed into the room, trying their hardest to stop Black*Star from being, well, Black*Star about things, an impossible task in retrospect.  
"I made you a card, Maka!" Patty giggled, thrusting it into Maka's face and making her go cross-eyed.
"Oh!" Maka blinked, prying the card from the other girl's grip, "Thank you, Patty, this is, uh, just…yellow on paper. Uh, crayon, maybe?"
"And color pencil, and—" Patty dug into her pocket before holding out a squished and dribbling mustard packet, "—I found this in the cafeteria!"
"Patty's really been into abstract expressionism lately," Liz explained as he and Maka sniffed the paper, sharing a look of unease.
"It's very creative, Patty!" Tsu smiled, ever positive, as she leaned over to examine the sticky piece of paper herself.
"Yellow tastes good and happy," Patty nodded, licking the open end of the mustard packet, "but it makes Kid so mad!"
Kid stepped closer, eyebrow twitching, "That's only because there's no sense to it. If you would like an actual art lesson—"
"—corner—" Maka snapped at him, pointing him back to his designated spot.
"—I'm sorry!" Black*star crossed his arms over his chest with a sneer, commanding their attention, "Can we please get back to what matters here?"
"Maka's health?" He asked with a sigh, plucking the condiment-covered piece of paper away from Tsu between two pinched fingers and gingerly propping it up on Maka's bedside table.
"No!" Black*Star jabbed a finger at his chest, "Me! I've got business to discuss with you, Maka."
There was general grumbling among the group as a response. "Ah, sit down," Liz barely looked up from her nails as she waved Black*Star off while Soul grumbled, "Save it," wiping mustard from his fingers onto his pants.
"Black*Star," Tsubaki spoke up, pulling on his pant leg as she awkwardly tried to save the situation, "maybe later?"
"M-maybe later!" He stuttered, "No way! What's the big deal?"
"Maka's healing," Tsubaki explained, "we'll ask in a little bit. It can wait."
"Ah, whatever," It was Black*Star's turn to wave them off, "Maka's fine! I mean, what's a couple of bones, right, Maka?"
“I really am okay,” Maka agreed.
"No," Soul disagreed.
"I mean, Maka, have you ever just tried making your bones unbreakable?" Black*Star tilted his head in thought. His expression was open and earnest, practically downright innocent, as he proclaimed, "Just don't have them be broken anymore! That's what I do!"
Soul pointedly stared at the cam boot adorning Black*Star's left leg, "Didn't you get stuck in that from falling down some stairs?"
Again, Black*Star waved them off, tilting his head back to let out a loud cackle, "Ah, that's different!"
"How?"
"Sneak attack, duh." Black*Star sniffed, rubbing his nose, "And now I'm immune!"
"That's not how it works," He shook his head.
"It is!"
"It isn't."
"And this isn't just a social visit!"
"It is." Soul amended.
"It isn't!" Black*Star stomped forward on the bed until he was hovering over Maka, "I gotta know, do you still have all your nerdy Coffin Scout shit?"
"Coffin Scout?" Soul echoed, and another smile spread across his face, "You never told me you were a Coffin Scout."
Maka's forehead twitched as she glared at Black*Star, pushing his head away from hers, "First of all, it wasn't nerdy. Second of all, yes, I was a Coffin Scout," She sat a little straighter, "I was an excellent Coffin Scout, thank you. Third of all," Her expression faltered, "why do you want to know?"
Black*Star stood proudly, once more jabbing his thumb into his chest, "You're looking at Troup 564s next Undertaker!"
All of them, minus Tsubaki, stared at him until Maka finally blinked back to life, "I'm sorry. You?"
"Well, Angela, you see," Tsubaki started to interject, "she's—"
"Don't you have to be, like, a mom to be a den mother?" Liz asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Undertaker." Black*Star instantly corrected, "And, eh," he shrugged, "who cares? Maka's dad did it."
"Let's not go that far," Maka looked off as a twitch again pulsed through her forehead.
"It's a unisex position." Kid huffed and stood slightly straighter, "I was also a proud Coffin Scout in my youth. Maybe I can assist you in your endeavor, Black*Star? I know all the—"
"—pass." Black*Star scowled, crossing his arms over his chest with a 'hmph' and ignoring the daggers Kid shot his way.
"You were a Coffin Scout?" Maka smiled, apparently forgetting her Corner Rule, "I had no idea, Kid. Shouldn't we have been in the same Troup?"
His glower fell, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Ah, well, I never actually…made it to a Coffin Scout meeting."
"Because it was for little girls?" Soul deadpanned.
"They ended up changing that rule! But yes." Kid flushed, then brightened, "Still, I read the whole handbook over a dozen times. The Coffin Scout's dedication to tradition and policy never ceased to impress me. I knew the chants; I even tried my hand at getting a few badges, my first being the pattern badge, which, of course, obviously has to do—"
"—Patty was a coven scout too," Liz cooed, speaking over Kid as she reached for Patty to pinch and squish her cheeks, "you should have seen her in the little uniform. It was so cute!" Liz continued to beam like the proud older sister she was, "She was kicked out after her first meeting because—" Quickly, Liz snatched her hands away from Patty as she tried to chomp down on the fingers closest to her mouth, "—she had a biting problem. Patty. No."
 "We had our own version of Coffin Scouts in Japan, but uh," Tsubaki quietly explained, "I did martial arts instead with my brother."
Again, the room began to fill with a symphony of voices as one story bled into another that drowned out another, and the cycle continued ad nauseam. The endless conversation used to be something that made Soul dizzy. In the beginning, he wondered if this was what all friendships were like, constantly trying to demand the stage and outshine each other, until he finally realized there was a rhythm to their chatter, a call and response as stories layered atop each other until they reached the crescendo, screaming "my stories are yours."
Of course, he still immensely preferred the peace of silence, but the noise his friends created was as much a part of "coming home" as anything else after a long mission. If they were silent, then he'd know something was truly wrong.
Black*Star, who always demanded the stage, didn't share Soul's cheesy, sentimental, and secret approach to their friend group's hive-mind-like conversations. He began to pout, then glower as the spotlight was again taken off of him. Soul watched as his eyes darted between faces and counted down the seconds they had left until he reached another tantrum.
Slipping one of Maka's ponytails off his wrist, Soul aimed it at Black*Star striking him square in that large forehead of his, stopping the tantrum before it even had a chance to begin, "Ah, stop pouting, and tell us how you'll be inconveniencing us this time."
Maka quirked an eyebrow at Black*Star, joining Soul, "Yeah, why are you suddenly an Undertaker? I thought Coffin Scout's was the—” she poorly mocked Black*Star’s voice, crossing her eyes, “lamest thing in the world?"
Now that Black*Star finally held the room's attention, he seemed to falter under it, which Soul found odd. That wasn't like him, not at all. His confidence wavered for a moment before he shot a look at Tsubaki and nodded, squaring his shoulders, "Gotta set a few racist assholes straight, ya know, for Angie."
That was enough to cause to a general uproar.
"Angela? Is she okay?" Liz asked as Patty sat up, for once without a smile on her face.
"Did something happen?" Maka asked with wide eyes, looking for answers from Tsubaki.
"Who did it?" Kid glowered.
"Hey!" Black*Star crossed his arms, "I'm handling it, alright? I just need your nerd shit, okay? The troop she was in doesn't want her because she's a witch, so—" Again, Black*Star tripped over himself, seemingly stumbling over the right words to say, "—so, you know, we're making our own." He glared at them each in turn like he was challenging them to say something, "Any problems with that?"   
"Star!" Maka snapped, rising to the challenge, "Dammit! Why didn't you start with that?"
"Yeah—" Liz scowled, and Patty finished, "—what gives, man!"
“None of you were listening!”
"Again, because you were taking too long," Kid muttered, rolling his eyes.
Black*Star tried leveling him with an icy stare, "I will kick your ass."
"I'd like to see you try." Kid spat back without flinching.
"Holy sh—it. You two and the arguing today," Liz huffed, "knock it off."
"Are you in on this too, Tsubaki?" Maka asked, ignoring the other boys. After so many years, it was easy to tune out their constant bickering.
"Mhm," Tsubaki nodded, "I'll be the assistant troop leader! It's, uh, well, I just hope I do well. I don't know much about the Coffin Scouts."
The tension between Kid and Black*Star dissipated instantly as Kid turned eagerly to Tsubaki.
"We could review some of the handbook!" Kid suggested, eye glittering with excitement "I still remember—"
"—no thanks." Black*Star waved him away again, ignoring the daggers Kid shot him.
"I'd actually very much appreciate that," Tsu smiled.
"And, of course, you two can have all my old stuff. Lucky for you, I think, uh—" Maka stopped and tapped her chin, "—I think I still have a few of my old binders stored at my dad's place. He never let me throw any of it away." She grimaced through a smile, "He's coming by later today. I'll text him to bring it over if you want to stick around for that long, that is?"
Black*Star finally plopped down onto the foot of her bed, sitting with his legs crisscrossed, "What else do I gotta do today, huh?"
"Looks like you're stuck with us until your old man shows up," Soul smirked, leaning against Maka's bedside table.
"Stuck with them," Maka corrected, "not you—" His heart fluttered for a moment, half-hoping-half-dreading she was about to fix his wordage. "—you're going home."
With his lame hopes effectively trampled and his ego put back in its proper place, he furrowed his brows together and quite eloquently stuttered, "W-wait, what? Why?"
"You need to go home and sleep, Soul," She sighed, "I haven't seen you sleep for more than five hours this whole weekend."
"I'm fine," He shook his head.
"Don't make it an argument. Just go home and get some sleep. I'll be okay!"
"Uh," He pushed off the bedside table, uncrossing his arms to argue with her, "I beg to differ. There was a lunatic downstairs looking for you. Did we forget that?"
"No," She glared back at him, mocking his tone, "we did not. But I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. I'm not useless."
"No one said you were."
"It's not like I'm alone right now," She countered.
"And," Kid interrupted, "I'll have two people at her door every night as long as she's here."
Maka groaned, "That isn't necessary either."
"Protocol," Kid shot back.
"If anyone needs a babysitter, it's you, pigtails," Black*Star snorted in a rare act of agreement with Kid.
"Fuck off," She glared at Black*Star, kicking at him.
"I'm staying." Soul announced over their bickering, "Not risking it."
Maka stopped shoving Black*Star to scowl at him, "You need to sleep."
"You do look tired, Soul," Tsu spoke up, trying to placate the situation, which would have been annoying if she weren't so good at it, "and we'll be right here with her until Spirit arrives. She'll hardly be alone."
"And I need my mask, remember. These lights—" Maka pointed to the overhead lights, where one was still flickering at odd intervals, "—they're still killing my head."
"Fine," He conceded, "I'll run home, nap, get your stuff, come back."
"No, you'll go home, get my stuff ready for my papa to pick up, and then go to bed," She looked off for a second before tacking on, "and make sure Blair's okay, and check the mail, and then maybe clean out the fridge, and make sure the cat didn't drag anything in while we were gone, and shoot—” She snapped her fingers, “—I think I have a package at the post office, and—"
"—jeez, Mak, just write your errand boy a list," Liz snorted as Patty did her best impression of a whip. He made sure to flick her off when Maka wasn’t looking.
"Yeah, good idea," Maka said, taking Liz literally, "I'll just text you a list."
"But—" He started, but she stopped him, reaching out to grab one of his hands.
She squeezed it lightly, "Soul, go home. Your dark circles have dark circles."
He stared at her, neck warming as he felt everyone else watching them—Kid watching them—but couldn't find it in himself to do the safe thing and pull away. Instead, he studied her face for longer than necessary, his heart hammering against his rib cage as he thought of every single reason why leaving would end up being the worst mistake he had ever made.
Pretty green doe eyes batted up at him, "Please."
Against his better judgment, he squeezed her hand back, muttering a simple "fine" before turning away. He didn't let go of her hand until he was forced to, her fingertips slowly slipping from his.
"Text me when you get home!" Maka's voice echoed down the hallway as he slowly made his way toward the elevators.
As the elevator doors shut, he could hear Maka’s room again explode with the sounds of his best friends, all competing for each other’s attention until finally he was enveloped in silence, a stark difference than from before. A panic flared within him, and it was then that he decided he had been mistaken. He didn’t prefer silence. He needed their sounds. Without them, everything felt wrong.
Bad wrong. Unsafe wrong. Like something had gone wrong, wrong.
He gnawed on one of his hang nails, trying hard to push his ill ease away. He hated being alone with his thoughts, and it was made worse with that shitty little red horned demon always knocking on the door of his subconscious, acting like an internal metronome with no end in sight.
He dropped his hand from his mouth, staring miserably at the elevator doors. Maka was right. He needed some sleep.  
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mellotronmkll · 1 month ago
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Wverytime I sit down at a computer to make music I get so scared
#i like siting down with a guitar and writing music but the daw is still so scary to me and i dont know how to make it less scary#its like i dont know where to start#i understand music theory i can write chord progressions i can write melodies but arranging feels so daunting#like just trying to pick keyboard voices and stuff im like overwhelmed and then its like i just dont even know where to start#i think i need to do more covers to practice arranging because trying to do it with my own songs im just like i have NO IDEA#i do think that trying to recreate arrangements of other songs I like will help me but also just idk#i really want to get better at writing at the piano but i find it really hard#rn i write almost all my songs on the guitar then i guess what i have to do is try to think of like what style i want it to have#and sort of try to create a map like probably literally on paper and then try to go in and sort of do it but god its so hard i dont know#it feels so so daunting#even trying to make silly little stuff with just like some synths is really hard for me right now its so out of my comfort zone and AUGH id#its frustrating im scared of the computer but i also very much do not want to be an acoustic singer songwriter but thats all i can do#because all i can do is play fucking guitar!!!! and its just so frustrating#technically im like with a midi controller i should be able to do whatever program drums write little synth lines etc i dont have to like#know how to play piano and yet whenever i try to do it i just get so overwhelmed and freaked out with how many possibilities there are#that i just . cannnnnt#AHGHHHHHHHHHHHH im so im in such a bad mood right ow#ive had such a horrible night honestly#i think i will just go engage in fixation for comfort and then go to bed sigh#i dont know what to do to improve at making music in the daw i guess ill just maybe try again this weekend to take another crack at it#god its just so frustrating that i only started writing songs 2 years ago and have only learned to use a daw in the last 3 months i WISH#that i was one of these teenagers who spent all my time writing silly songs and playing around with a midi controller but i just didnt#because i was scared!!!!!!!#playing the guitar and singing has always been like the only thing that felt safe cos i felt if i tried to actually write and arrange songs#by myself i would fail so now i just feel so frustrated because i dont feel like a real musician and i feel like im starting too late#AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH whatever sorry for using the tags of this post as my diary but#i am frustrated!!!!
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13eyond13 · 4 months ago
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actually stunned by how gay The Beatles has been all this time and I just never knew
#like its always just been there in my life but i just never paid attention#my university roomie was obsessed w them and had several beatles posters that i looked at every day#so stuff like the pictures of them from the let it be album are like engrained into my brain#and yet i never knew the lore??#nor did i know until recently that they were actually all high school buds nor did i know they wrote their own music#nor that they genuinely basically invented modern bands n using the studio the way they did etc. so all that was very impressive and cool#but THEN on top of that omg the angsty gayness of john and paul#like all i knew previously basically was that john was a thing w yoko ono and paul had a young wife recently#i had at one point heard of people shipping j&p together and was just kinda like wow i guess people will ship anything#I DIDNT KNOW#that they were actually like that cute and that insane together and that their song writing together was like an actual marriage#anywayz the old pictures and videos of them are just like jesus look how they look at each other i dont think it was just being bros#i am sort of in the camp of they prob didn't act on it for real but there was def some insane tension/chemistry going on#and then ofc once youre aware of this their songs take on so many possible meanings outside of just singing about their gfs and wives....#anyways i just have to vent about this somewhere bc im actually shocked at how this has just passed me by all these years#and it definitely was not on my bingo card for 2024 to fixate on the beatles but here we are lol#more proof to me that my ultimate fave trope or wtv is 'besties to enemies when really they actually probably wanted to be lovers'#gets me every time!!!!#whats been fun about this rabbit hole is how just every single one of my expectations has been reversed as well#i went in assuming i would like them best in this order:#(1) george (2) ringo (3) paul and (4) john#i was sure i would hate john i thought he sounded so pretentious and like such a douche#but no actually he is my fave one and it's literally in reverse order for me i find george my least fave#(i like his music and feel bad for how he got ignored in the band but i like him the least)#and then i literally am john paul ringo george in order of faves now#i just love when i get surprised like that idk it keeps me on my toes and keeps things exciting and fresh#and yes john is indeed pretentious and a douche but i didn't know he was also funny and vulnerable and that i like his voice and songs#the most in the bunch almost every time as well#the beatles#p
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newtness532 · 2 months ago
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i know that graduating one semester later is not that big of a deal and i haven't made any plans about what comes next so it doesnt even make a difference. so why does it feel just so terrible
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tkbrokkoli · 10 months ago
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how are my mutuals doing
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perenlop · 9 months ago
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rpgs are kinda like comfort food to me where theyre very cozy to come back to and just indulge in, especially pokemon where no one team is gonna be exactly the same, but dear god i need to take a break from them every once in a while or it risks feeling samey anyways
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felidthing · 1 year ago
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my specialest little detail about applestrike is she actually has a second voiceclaim. her main one is ada rook but when i was still deciding who it would be bert mccracken was actually the runner-up. i thought it was fun to imagine my transfem kitty with a male voiceclaim (tho bert is pretty high pitched) but i ended up picking rook because i love her and it felt easier in the long run for applestrike to have a female voiceclaim. but bert will always be another option in my heart
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oysterie · 4 months ago
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reading the agents by grégoire courtois 👍 not as good as the laws of the skies so far but still good so far
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celestiamour · 4 months ago
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited
➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write
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logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”
“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).
“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.
you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.
he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.
“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.
“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”
the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”
you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.
“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”
“it’s a gift! you keep those!”
“oh… right…”
he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 
“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 
the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”
“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”
“first what??”
“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”
“i have to name it?”
“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.
“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”
“that’s such a shitty name—”
“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”
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mercy-burning · 7 days ago
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…I Wonder
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)
MASTERLIST
NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!
———
ACT I: If I Had A Baby...
The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.
It was a start. A shot in the dark.
By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.
He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.
I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.
What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.
The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.
"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."
Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.
I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.
I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.
It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?
Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.
He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."
Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?
So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.
Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.
It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.
At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.
I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...
That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.
And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?
I hated even thinking about it.
And then there was the first paycheck.
Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.
Payment completely slipped my mind.
And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.
"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."
Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."
He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.
At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.
I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"
I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."
"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."
I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.
He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.
ACT II: If I Was A Lady...
The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.
Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.
It was a day, and night, I would never forget.
Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.
"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.
"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.
"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"
He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."
"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."
"Mmmm."
I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.
Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...
In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.
I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.
He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.
The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.
His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.
"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.
It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.
That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.
He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.
"We can't ever do that again."
"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.
"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."
"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.
"You should go home."
"Okay."
"I'll call you a cab."
"Thank you."
I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?
I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.
After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.
I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.
I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.
Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.
I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?
He texted back almost immediately; All is well.
It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.
Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.
I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.
Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."
There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."
"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."
"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."
"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."
"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."
Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.
I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.
"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.
I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."
"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.
I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"
He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Night."
I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.
Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?
Wrong.
I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.
"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.
"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."
I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.
Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.
Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.
"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."
He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.
But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.
"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"
His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"
We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.
Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.
"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.
"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.
"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.
"Of course," I agreed.
"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"
Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"
"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.
"It really does! Do you want to come see?"
"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."
Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."
"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."
He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.
"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?
He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."
My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?
Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."
"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."
I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.
His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.
He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."
I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?
It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"
Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."
I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.
I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.
"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."
And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.
ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.
I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.
I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.
It scared me, but also deeply excited me.
Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.
Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Happy Birthday!"
He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.
"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"
"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.
As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).
"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"
I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.
So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."
I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."
He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"
The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"
"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."
As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."
The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...
To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.
I decided to spare him the wait.
"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."
"Really? No eggshells?"
I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."
Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.
Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.
He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.
I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.
"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"
He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."
"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."
I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.
"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"
"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."
"I love you, Auntie Y/N."
I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."
ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.
The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.
Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.
Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.
I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.
His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.
"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"
"My birthday was yesterday..."
He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.
"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."
I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.
"You're not my dad."
Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."
The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.
"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."
The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.
I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."
"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."
"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.
"Well?"
"I want to be yours."
He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."
And then he kissed me.
He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.
I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.
And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.
"God, I love the sounds you make..."
His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.
I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.
Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.
I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.
Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.
I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...
With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.
Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"
Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."
"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."
A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.
"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.
His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.
Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.
I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.
Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.
Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.
I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.
"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.
"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."
My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.
"Please."
The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Follow me."
And I did. I always would.
As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.
Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.
Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.
He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"
"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.
"You're not complaining are you?"
"God, no."
"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.
Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.
"Is this okay?"
I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."
Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.
No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.
Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.
His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.
"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"
My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."
"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.
Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.
"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."
All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"
"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.
He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...
"Never better," I responded earnestly.
"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"
"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.
"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."
I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."
"As you wish."
The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.
Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"
Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."
I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.
"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.
I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."
I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.
His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.
Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.
And he was making me come. Hard.
The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.
"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."
Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.
His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.
Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.
I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.
Oh, my God...
I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.
His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.
"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."
I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.
Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.
The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."
It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."
"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."
It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.
"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."
Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.
It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.
His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.
"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."
"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.
Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."
I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.
I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.
CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.
Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.
It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.
I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.
I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.
"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.
They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.
"Will you be my mom?"
Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.
Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.
Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.
"Yes."
THE END.
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ozzgin · 9 months ago
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
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You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
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hoshigray · 5 months ago
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love love LOVEE your toji/sukuna fics, mean big guys have me in a chokehold, but even more so if there’s aftercare right after destroying u , I’d like to see how you write that! No pressure, just a suggestion lol
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: no but you're so valid, idk why i keep forgetting about after care, ughhh!! ty for loving my tojikuna stuff <3
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (kuna got 2 dicks) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - biting/nibbling - dacryphillia - unprotected sex - aftercare; taking a warm bath together + tending wounds - pet names (baby, [little] dove, pet, princess, sweet thing) - tojikuna being snarky partners; good luck, lmao - mention of blood, drool/spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k
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“Ahaaahhn! T-Tojii, t-too fast, going too fas—Shhaaa!!”
“Heh, y’re complainin’, but y’re the one squeezin’ my dick like crazy.”
“Hmph, right, like some dirty whore…Shit, ass’s so tight…”
You were the partner of both Tōji Fushiguro and Sukuna Ryōmen—a fact that many would be astonished to know and for you to go dizzy thinking about.
How does one lure in the deadly, cursed being proclaimed the King of Curses and a cold-blooded assassin dubbed the Sorcerer Killer? You couldn’t even think of a quick answer to such a question. What you do know is that being a spouse of the terrifying two in this polyamorous relationship was the definition of intense. And that would go for tonight as well.
Being bent and forced to be taken advantage of by your two lovers was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, it’s almost a daily occurrence when either of them comes and pulls you aside to appease themselves. Nonetheless, what else was a little cute wife like you supposed to do: sit there and look pretty? Not tonight, at least.
You were all confined in your shared quarters, all three bodies atop the futons pulled to the tatami flooring—three bodies stripped from their discarded attire, now nude and meshed together in hot and wanton passion.
Toji was beneath you, yet that didn’t diminish his control over you. You may be straddling him and moving your hips to take in his erect cock into your aching cunt. However, his hands are stationed firmly on your waist, influential to your pace as he bucks into your wetness stuffed on excessive come. The fast ruts make it grueling to find the rhythm—but that’s what the dark-haired man wants, to see you all desperate and wailing from up above. “How ya feelin’, sweet thing?” 
As if you had any room to speak, so winded that wails were the only words you could say. 
“Oi, pet, answer when you’re being talked to.”
And the voice behind you doesn’t make this scene any better.
From your backside, Sukuna’s massive frame hovered over you and Toji’s, his gigantic frame easily dwarfing you both. His lower arms hold you down by the calves, and his upper left keeps him upright from easily squishing his partners. And the upper right crawls up to your throat, suffocating your airways lightly with just his thumb and forefinger.
As the other has you from below, the gigantic cursed man deals with you from above. His lower member is plunged into your rear hole, stretching you to the point of tears with his hefty girth while the other rubs on the crevice of your ass with every push of his hips. The hands on your legs come up to your waist, brushing Toji’s, who moves his to your chest.
His guttural purrs send shivers up to your ears, and the tongue of his stomach probes you with a lick on your sweaty back. “We need words, or else you’ll be crushed without knowing, little dove.”
Because that is what you were: their little wife tending to them as a spouse would. 
You swallow spit before the grip on your throat gets any tighter. “I–I…Feel sho goood…!” You twitch when the behemoth licks and nibbles on your ear so dangerously as if he’s tempted to eat you—he just might be. “—Mmmhh! S-Shoo fuull..”
Toji notices and snickers, “Yeah, baby?” His hands on your breasts are rough, making you whimper. “Doin’ good so far,” he tweezes a nipple, earning a sharp yelp to leave your puffy lips. “Hehm, so adorable, mama…” you cry even more when he pops the other nipple into his mouth; the feel of his tongue on your bud had you hot. 
“—Hnnm!! Fucking hell, this ass…!” Sukuna’s groans are felt, the vibrations rattling your bones. “Keep grippin’ me like that, princess..” He adds more weight and has you howling like no tomorrow. The nails of his fingers leave dents that you’re sure to see later on—just more to add onto the collection harboring all over your skin – bites and marks galore. 
Your eyebrows screw together, drool escaping your agape lips. The laps around your nipple become feverish along with Toji’s thrusts, and Sukuna pistoning his cock so harshly; it makes you wobble, yet you maintain your balance for the older man beneath you to keep sucking and playing with your chest. 
“—Taahh, uhhgg, sh-shiiit,” your hands grip the sheets as your eyes roll to the top–a sign that you were to fall into your release in mere seconds from the constant rubs of your sensitive spots.
Clamping onto their shafts, you shriek during the impending climax, the walls of your holes puckering and contracting around the limbs that graze your sensitive nerves. You finally give in and fumble atop Toji, luckily catching your expected reaction with a smirk. “Fuck, feel so good and tight,” he kisses your cheek and chortles when your arms sling around his neck. “Stay still, baby; let us finish here.”
The two men still undulate their hips, their dicks ravaging your insides even when you’re stuck in your crescendo. You nearly choke on your spit, wailing as you’re forced to submit to their frantic bucks, and the sounds of them moaning and groaning only fuel your ears to clench them even tighter. It has both men hiss and tighten their hold on you, Toji burrowing his face to bite your shoulder while Sukuna’s fangs dig into the other. And you can tell blood was drawn as the giant licks the inflicted marking.
At your scream, they simultaneously bust their loads into your trembling frame, stuffing you with more of their essence in your cunt and asshole. And Sukuna’s upper cock dispels its semen out to paint your back. The sensation of their lengths pulsating inside you has you quiver, hiccupping when they sneak in short yet fierce pounds into your sore holes until their sweaty frames succumb to tranquility. Then, they remove their limbs with a blissful groan to your sob, come sliding and dripping down to your thighs. 
Finally, you sigh into Toji’s chest as he kisses your forehead and kneads your ass lovingly. I can finally rest now…
However, you squeak when your body is pulled upward so quickly, and you’re now being held by Sukuna, who straightens up and stands up. He scoffs, “Relax, dove.” The hand under your legs squeezes the flesh of your thigh. 
Leaving Toji to the futon, the cursed ancient man thunderously strides out to the room two rooms down from the shared room. He slides the shoji door open after the changing room, and you’re instantly met with a wave of humid air from the bathing area. Ripples from the humongous stone bath become more evident as Sukuna closes in, and the water climbs when he gets inside with his massive volume.
He sits, the water sitting above the mouth of his abdomen. He has you sitting on his lap, yet his lower arms still hold you close to his chest. With the upper left, he brings the wooden bucket the servants left behind to scoop with water and pours it gently above your head. 
Your hands wipe the water from your face, but a washcloth and a colossal hand wipe it down for you. “Y-You know, I can clean myself,” you inquire with a scrunched expression as Sukuna wipes your cheeks a little too rough. 
“With your shaky legs, I’d be amazed if you’d even make three steps out of the room.” You pout at his tease, and it only has him want to poke fun at you more. “Like a baby deer trying to walk.”
You snatch the washcloth with a heated face. “Quit it!” Humiliated, you sigh and raise your left arm to dap on the markings decorated on your skin. However, he takes it away from you, his lower left gently grabbing your arm for the lower right to compress the damp cloth on your sore markings. 
“Let me.” He wasn’t asking, leaving you no space to interject his company. He pulls an ointment from the other wooden basket into the washcloth; the lavender scent pleases your nostrils while the minty sensation cleanses your skin. “Sit back,” he orders you, and you allow your back to rest on his torso, watching the man tend to the wounds he and his partner inflicted on you. It almost puts you to sleep, sighing pleasingly and relaxing to the monster’s touch. 
Speaking of, “Wow, so ya leave me at the room to clean up after you two, huh?” Toji enters the bathing space, joining you and Sukuna in the warm water. “What am I, y’r maid?”
“You seem to have walked here on your own just fine.” Sukuna bends to place a kiss on top of your head while the raven-haired other approaches closer. “You have no room to complain, Fushiguro.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you observe Toji come to you between Sukuna’s legs. “Hey, mama, feel better?” You nod to him meekly while he cups your cheeks with one hand. He then brings you to a soft kiss, mewling to his lips while his wet thumb brushes your cheek. “Mmm, so cute…Stand up fr’ me.”
He takes the wet cloth from Sukuna’s grasp while you slowly rise. He helps you turn around to have your back to him, your hands clinging onto Sukuna’s thighs while the giant gives the human male a cream to place on the rag. Toji then rubs circles on the red crescents of your waist–dents marked from Sukuna’s nails–and you jerk and hiss at the contact. 
“I know, sweetie, I know,” he coaxes you with whispers to the ear and a kiss on your shoulder. “Blame ‘Kuna for doin’ a number on ya.”
“Keh, I know you’re not talking,” the salmon-haired one sniggers as he grabs another dry cloth to wipe your collarbone. “I can count with three hands how many of these hickeys aren’t mine.” 
The other barks a laugh. “Now I know y’r ass is lyin’.” The two men humor themselves on the trauma they just put you and your tiny body through, and you can only shake your head at their insufferableness. Yet, at the very least, they’re taking their roles as your lovers to take care of your body. Not so bad, isn’t it?
Especially when the bathing is over, and you’re all clean from the event that transpired an hour ago, sleep stops evading you, and you return to the shared room ready for slumber. To end the night, the candles are blown out, you’re adorning your yukata robe for your soft skin, and Toji and Sukuna wait for you on the futon to conclude this session. 
Toji has you to his right, arm around your figure to keep you close to his warmth. This gives you the view of his easeful sleeping face; the moonlight from the opened shoji window panels makes it easy to trace his handsome features and the deft scar on his lips. To his left was Sukuna, his tremendous size unavoidable, and his strength still evident as his upper arm cages you and the other older man in proximity. The pink-haired beast purrs at the rub of Toji’s hand on his nape and hair, and you giggle at the display—like a giant cat.
Seeing the Sorcerer Killer and the King of Curses act so leisurely around someone is inconceivable; not many live to see such a picture when met with their brute force and killing instincts. And yet, you suppose that makes you more valuable than anyone, their sole and precious partner.
And as you bury your face and let the blanket of sleep take over, you rest for yet another night, knowing you’re in the best care you could ask for.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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saetoru · 1 year ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
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synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
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length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
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right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
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satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
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whokilledsamara · 9 days ago
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HEYY POOKIE!!! I was wondering if you could do a Mr. Crawling from homicipher x a fem reader smut.(idk if you do fem reader if you don't feel comfortable just do gn)
THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS!!! ♡♡♡ I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!!
ENDLESS
a Mr. Crawling {homicipher} x reader fic. {an: hi friend!! ofc! i actually prefer writing fem {afab} because it is what i am and i find it easier to write for. you have a good day aswell :)}
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warnings! : not too much for this one, hes a friendly boy. smut, blood mention, claustrophobia, size difference, switch!reader, afab, female genitalia described, mr. crawling has no idea what hes doing, language border. sorry there isnt TOO much plot on this one, i need to study more on the game and plus i didnt really know how to write his character.
{an : this takes place in the part where Mr. Scarletella walks past the room, and Mr. Crawling has to protect/shield you. my apologies if it isnt completely accurate, i have yet to watch a full playthrough.}
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theres.. blood on the floor. you make a mental note of as you walk down the eerie hallway, "Mr. Crawling" or so you called him, close behind you. he muttered the same word over and over to you, in a hushed yet worried voice. with not a single understanding of what he was saying, you took his facial expressions as a better way to figure it out. your best guess was that he was attempting to say "unsafe." as his veiny hand kept pointing down the hallway. "unsafe?" you ask in a curious tone. he pauses for a second before nodding.
halting your movements, you stare at him nervously, your eyes darting from him to down the hallway. "i have too.." you say softly as you look at him. he tilts his head in lack of understanding but allows you to continue walking, close behind you on his knees.
turning the corner, there is more blood and chains on the wall. gross. you think to yourself. your head snaps up as you hear footsteps seemingly getting closer to you, and before you can react, you are jerked into the closest room and underneath the usually crawling man. "w-wha... what are you doing..?" you whisper up at him, his worried expression flicking from you to the door.
he lets out a hushed whine, and again, in a language you cant understand, he huffs out panicked words. from your previous understanding with the others, you get the words "someone else, near"
you instantly shut your mouth, his body hovering over you in attempt to shield you from whatever was walking past. thats when you see it. a tall, slender man with red hair, covered in red clothing, and a.. red umbrella for some reason, walking past. the man pauses, static around him, before he continues walking as if he didn't notice you. your body instinctively huddles closer to Mr. Crawling, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your body against his. after a few minutes, and after both of you are sure the tall man is gone, he starts to whimper, his forearms holding him above you, and his knee so perfectly placed in between your legs. what you thought was chaste, was him feeling an unknown desire for something he had never felt before.
his whimpers turn into almost desperate whines, and you finally look up at him. while you cant see his eyes, his face is a deep red and light pants leave his mouth. "a-are you okay..?" you ask in a hushed voice. while he doesnt understand you, he understands your body language. he presses his knee further into your clothed core, your body instantly reacting and jerking. "a-oh.." you flinch, hands sliding down his cloth clad chest. his hands make their way up your body, testing the waters and curiously grabbing your plush skin. the cold concrete floor wasnt making it easier to stay focused, along with his cold hands grabbing anything he could. "fuck.. i cant believe this is happening.." you mutter more to yourself than anything. his knee still pressed in between your legs. grabbing his hand, you trail it up under your shirt and place it on your heavy breast. allowing him to explore. he begins kneeding it, with an unknown curiosity. your breathing come out in short huffs and gentle moans, moans that he seems to enjoy hearing. "do you even... have the equipment to be doing this..?" you ask, motioning to his groin. his eyes follow your hand, and he tilts his head while staring at it. he pulls his hands out from under your shirt and slips down the cloth covering his groin. fuck hes big.. his heavy and semi-hard appendage springs out, a slight throb to it. your hand experimentally reaches out to touch it, its hot and leaking. his body instinctively jerks as your hand grazes it, a needy plea in his sounds.
well.. if im gonna die here i might aswell..
you slowly begin stroking it, his mouth agape and hips jerking towards your hand. he gently reaches for your clothing, quick yet gentle as he slides down your pants. you involuntarily squeak, but dont make a move to stop him as his hand curiously grazes your folds. with a swift motion, he pushes a finger inside your entrance, tilting his head with confusion as you moan heavily. wetness grows on his hand, leaking down his forearm. "oh fuck..." you breath shakily, pumping him faster. his face scrunches up and he lets out a cute noise, moving his finger faster. after a hot minute of this, you pull your hand off much to his dismay, and you gently remove his hand from you. as you position yourself in a slightly different way under him, you make a 'come here' motion with your finger. he obediently complies, above you once more.
teaching him what to do was kind of hard with the language barrier but you made it work. it wasnt long before he was slipping his length inside of you, stretching you as far as you could go. sure it hurt like hell, but you couldn't deny the pleasure that came with it. his thrusts were unpredictable, due to his lack of experience. he was good, really good in fact, and teaching him what to do was quite easy as a fast learner. you let out a harsh whine as his tip grazes your cervix, and his hips pause, eyes focused on your face. another word from that confusing language. "you, okay?" he asks. you nod hastily and reach out, grabbing his hip and pulling him back deeper. luckily he gets the hint, and starts moving again.
a white ring forms around the base of his length, his breathing heavy and hitching with each thrust. his long, skinny hand covers your mouth, preventing most of your noises from escaping your lips. no matter how much he wanted to hear them, he had to keep you safe. his thrusts became sloppier, signaling his upcoming orgasm. yours was approaching aswell, and quickly you reach your fingers down, rubbing in a rhythm he noticed. he looks from your face to your hand, shoving it out of the way and replacing it with his own, rubbing harsh circles on your bead. soon after, he had you coming undone on him, cunt clenching and unclenching around him. his whining hit a peak and his surprisingly cold seed shot through you. he came a lot, filling you to the brim and leaning over you.
his large form casted a shadow over your body, his hair falling on each side of your face as he desperately pressed his lips against yours, his cum seeping around him and out of you. harsh pants and whimpers fill the small room, as he pulls out and hurriedly pulls your clothing back on, not wanting to get caught.
he notices your struggle to stand, moving to his knees to help you up. after everything is stable, you and him make your way through the long corridors, hopefully finding an exit to this place.
maybe we can try again..
{an: this was so fun to make!! i kinda procrastinated a bit, so i apologize if it is sloppy. i don't know much about Homicipher other than my deep attraction to the characters XD}
{ made by @whokilledsamara }
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