#you can still make him dress nice
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the-goblinprince · 6 months ago
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people dont understand the importance of making elias look boring. it makes all the fandom memes way funnier. just this normal looking grown ass man but everyone writes him as babygirling his way through life
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sysig · 1 year ago
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Just keep getting back up (Patreon)
#Doodles#Handplates#UT#Fellplates#Gaster#Asgore#The thought of Gaster able to heal himself! Rather to only have himself to rely on in a world that lives to hurt him (and everyone else)#It's an interesting inversion that's for sure#Is it as satisfying if it's not the one who deserves the broken bones? The pain of rejection or of justice retribution punishment?#It's still the same face - and it's not like he's wholly innocent here either#And besides it's always fun to draw tears hee ♪#Get him just a bit disheveled aside from the broken bone - it's hard to imagine him in different clothes even after drawing him in the dress#Softer clothes would be so nice to hold Babybones with but even just dropping a shoulder off his coat or untying his bow tie - it's strange!#I do like the image of his flower crown shedding petals when he gets roughed up tho hehe - tossed around just a little too much!#Breaking his hand right down the middle - it'd be much easier with the holes in his hands as a weak point#All his bones could break easier than his hands before that but now-#It's weird to draw Asgore like that lol I dunno....Works well enough for utility but pffblt :P I always forget his pauldrons anyhow lol#Really rubbing it in that Gaster will be fiiiine he's sooooo special what with his ability to heal >:( Lol#It does make him a bit of a target - a regenerating punching bag? Ideal to see just how far you can push him#It was fun to draw with my green coloured pencil as well ahh <3 Healing magic always gives me a bit of the warm fuzzies#It was the original comic that made me fall in love with Handplates after all ♥ Pretty and feelings <3
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year ago
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I meant to write more for a pt 2 lore post earlier but didn't end up doing so, so pls take these AU sketches(Mark & Jense and then some assorted sketchies)
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#i should never have drawn them as catboys bcs now they appear as catboys in mind half the time 😭😭#its only on paper but i drew more catboy sketches of them than whats included here 😭#seb reminds me of my cat where hes being all nice and cuddly and then will bite you out of nowhere#seb in his frilly nightgown is very important to me!!!#i meant to draw both of them in nightgowns but brain wasnt worked too well tonight#so thats why these are mostly half finished#the bottom seb is too remind myself i have a regular art style 😭😭😭#mark in this au is so funny to me. bro is tortured by having to be with seb like practically every waking moment#he basically is a offically provided live-in bestie 😭😭#*based on real life thing. i think its funny how you can be royalty yourself +#but bcs youre not part of the imperial family you can still be reduced to the job of having to dress the emperor 😭#^ so thats mark in this au#seb promoted him to an important role when he became emperor but still makes mark do his old duties 🤭🤭#jense is in charge of all the horses and transport and things. thus: ye olde horse girl#im sorry but in historical AUs all f1 drivers are legally obligated to be horse girls. its literally canon#so sorry for the catboy sketch. it will happen again.#but ig i dont wanna go too deep into lore stuff in these tags cause yeah. another post in the works!!#i think about it and have talked about it a lot. but its hard to like contain all of it to bullet points and such#my brain is not built for writing fic i think so idk of youll ever get that from me. but lore yes i will deliver#sebastian vettel#fernando alonso#jenson button#mark webber#f1 fanart#formula 1 fanart#catie.art.#formula 1#boy king au
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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months ago
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When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.
I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.
I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.
Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.
The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?
“I see here you worked at STORE?”
“Yes,” I said hesitantly.
“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”
“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”
He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”
I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”
“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”
“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”
“How much was that one?”
“$110”
“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”
He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.
He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.
I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.
The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.
I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.
Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.
He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.
He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.
I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.
I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.
He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.
I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.
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luveline · 24 days ago
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𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]
c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆
Spencer wakes to an empty room. 
He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.
He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 
Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 
Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 
A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.
Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 
He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 
You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 
Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 
“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.
He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.
“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 
You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?
“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 
“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 
“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”
“I…” 
“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 
“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 
He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?
“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 
Your fingers slip into his with ease. 
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 
“Of course you can.” 
He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 
“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 
You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 
“What happened to you?” he asks. 
Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 
“What…” 
“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 
“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.
“Spencer?” 
Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 
His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 
“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 
“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 
“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 
“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 
Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 
“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 
You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 
“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 
“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 
Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 
“But I do eventually?” 
“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 
You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 
“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 
“Sort of,” Spencer says. 
It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 
“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 
Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 
You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”
“Not you?” he asks. 
You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 
When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 
You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 
“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 
“Uh.” 
“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 
“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 
He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 
“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”
Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 
“You dog,” Derek says. 
“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 
“I do know you,” Spencer says. 
“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 
Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 
“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 
Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 
“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 
“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 
“Every week?” he asks.
“Yeah.” 
“We’re never apart?” he asks. 
His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 
“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 
Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 
Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 
“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 
“We do?” 
“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 
“We did?”
You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 
“How do you love?” 
His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 
“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 
“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 
“I just can’t believe this is happening.”
You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 
He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 
“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”
It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 
“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 
“Anything.” 
He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 
“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 
“Who wouldn’t like you?” 
“But did you?” 
He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 
“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 
You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 
“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 
“What do you think?” 
“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 
You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”
He gives a choky laugh. 
The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 
Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 
“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 
“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”
Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 
Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”
“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 
“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 
“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 
“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 
Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.
It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 
You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 
Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.
Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 
He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 
Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 
“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”
You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 
You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 
“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 
You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 
He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 
You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 
He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 
You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 
He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”
“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚⋆
thanks for reading!
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creamflix · 1 month ago
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I LOVE BAD BITCHES THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ PROBLEM! ၄၃ satosugu x female reader
18+ content, minors or blank blogs don't interact. unestablished relationship, roommate arrangement. bisexual! satosugu, top! suguru + switch! satoru. threesome. humiliation, degradation, dirty talk. m. masturbation. exhibitionism, slight voyeurism. fingering. orgasm control + denial. finger sucking. sloppy makeouts + three at once. oral (f. recieving) + squirting, clit/pussy slapping. riding. double penetration. face sitting. overstimulation. prostate stimulation. accidental love confession during the heat of it all. weirdly happy ending? - rl's established
thank you so much for 1OOO followers you lil freaks divas. this took so much time to write lol, i hope you all see the vision. this work was inspired by this smut audio by augustinthewinter. the link takes you to a re-upload on spotify [for easier listening], and sadly not the audio posted by the original creator. do your part and please support him and his work here <3 
— masterlist here ☆
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you’re pretty sure you’ll be fine if you just ignore the tension radiating from your bed behind you.
you’re adjusting your eyeliner in the mirror, a faint smile on your lips, trying to focus on the excitement of the night ahead.
still, the weight of suguru’s silent gaze feels like a steel rod pressing against your back.
every now and then, you catch his reflection in the mirror, arms folded, brow furrowed slightly, watching your every move without saying a word.
and then, of course, satoru comes crashing in, slinging the door open like he owns the place. he practically throws himself onto the bed next to suguru, his excitement bursting out like it usually does.
“hey, hey, what if the three of us got wasted and binged some trashy netflix show? i’m thinking love is blind — oh, wait, you’re —” he blinks, taking in your outfit.
his voice trails off, and his expression turns from bright to bewildered as he glances from you to suguru, then back again.
“wait, where are you going dressed like that?”
you sigh, knowing there’s no way you’re escaping this.
“i… have a date,” you admit, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit. you catch suguru’s eyes in the mirror, and he raises an eyebrow, his arms still crossed, jaw set tight.
“oh?” suguru’s voice is cool, almost too calm, but there’s an edge underneath that doesn’t escape you.
“does he know you live with two men?”
you swallow, fiddling with your hair as you avoid his eyes. “well… no, i mean, it just never came up.”
satoru lets out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands, giving you a once-over that’s half-impressed, half-amused.
“so you’re planning to let him find out on his own when he walks in here and sees us? that’s bold.”
you roll your eyes, though you feel your cheeks heat up under their combined scrutiny. “it’s not like that! it’s just… i don’t know. i didn’t think it mattered.”
“doesn’t matter, huh?” suguru’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he stands up, slowly, crossing the room until he’s standing just behind you. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, his reflection towering over you in the mirror.
“so, what’s he like?” he asks, voice dripping with an intensity that makes your heart race a little faster.
you open your mouth to respond, but satoru’s laugh cuts you off. “yeah, yeah, tell us! tall, dark, and handsome, or short, plain, and boring?”
you bite back a grin, feeling the tension lighten just slightly with satoru’s teasing. “he’s nice. a gentleman, really. you’d probably like him,” you say, attempting a casual tone, though you can feel suguru’s stare growing sharper.
“a gentleman?” suguru scoffs, his lips curling into a smirk. “think he’d still be one if he knew you had two roommates watching out for you?”
“maybe he’d be intimidated,” satoru chimes in, grinning. he gets up from the bed, crossing the room to stand by suguru. “i mean, c’mon. anyone would feel the pressure, having to impress not just their date but her two very intimidating roommates.”
“intimidating?” you laugh, glancing between them. “i doubt anyone would find either of you intimidating.”
“oh, so that’s how it is,” suguru murmurs, stepping even closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
“you think we’re harmless?”
your heart thuds, pulse quickening as he leans in. “you know i didn’t say that,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.
suguru’s close enough now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours, and there’s an undeniable thrill that makes your head spin just a bit.
“do you really think he can keep up with you?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face in the mirror. “think he’s enough?”
you don’t answer, mostly because you’re not sure how to.
suguru’s words linger in your mind, twisting in ways that make you hesitate, and you feel satoru’s gaze on you too, a spark of something mischievous and knowing in his expression.
“you know, it wouldn’t kill you to let us meet him,” satoru suggests, his voice a lazy drawl that only adds to the heat building in the room. “just to make sure he’s, y'know, worth your time.”
you bite your lip, glancing between the two of them in the mirror, feeling the weight of both their gazes, the way their words seem to dig deeper than they should.
“why do i feel like the two of you would scare him off?”
“maybe because we would,” suguru murmurs, his voice like a dark promise. “if he’s not up to standard.”
satoru grins, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“or maybe we just want to keep you to ourselves.”
your heart skips a beat, and you’re sure your face must be burning.
“you two are unbelievable,” you manage, trying to laugh it off, though the sound comes out more breathless than you’d like.
you feel your stomach drop the second you realize satoru's got your phone. he'd snatched it up casually, thumb already working its way across the screen, entering your password like he's done it a million times. he lets out a strangled sort of noise as he stares down at the screen, his wide blue eyes taking in whatever he's found with an expression of pure shock.
"uh, what exactly have you been watching here?" satoru barely suppresses a snicker as he holds up the phone for suguru to see.
"‘getting used by my two roommates 'til i can’t walk?’ really?" he reads the title, drawing out every word in that slow, teasing tone he loves to use. "didn’t know you were into…this."
suguru’s dark eyes flash as he looks from the screen to you. he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature mix of irritation and amusement. "that's why you’ve been ignoring us, huh? too busy fantasizing to even tell us you had a date tonight?”
“it’s not —" you start, but suguru's hand is already at your waist, pulling you into his lap, effortlessly pinning you against him. your back’s pressed against his chest, and he’s got you facing the mirror, the smirk in his eyes only growing sharper as he settles you firmly on top of him.
“stay still," suguru murmurs, his voice a low hum, sending a shiver up your spine. "i wanna see you finish your makeup. maybe you’ll explain what’s going on here while you do."
satoru, still grinning, swipes further through your history, leaning closer with a loud, exaggerated gasp. "ohoho, what’s this? ‘my roommates won’t let me leave until i’ve begged them’? suguru, she’s got a whole list of ‘em!”
“tell me, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice drips with mock sweetness, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “are you disappointed it’s only a video?”
you try to fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks, attempting to focus on your eyeliner, but his hand at your hip keeps your body flush against him, heat radiating off him in waves. “you know i didn’t… it’s just a video, okay?”
“just a video, huh?” suguru’s thumb strokes your waist, and you catch his intense gaze in the mirror, dark and heavy-lidded, roaming over every flustered inch of your face. “don’t act so innocent.”
satoru snickers, flipping through more tabs on your phone. “so, when were you planning on telling this poor date of yours that you’ve got two guys in the apartment with you? two very protective guys, at that?”
“satoru —”
“nah, ’s cute.” satoru gives a little shrug, glancing at suguru with a grin. “she thinks she can just go on some little date and come home without us findin' out what she's been doin'.”
suguru’s grip tightens, forcing you to keep your gaze fixed in the mirror as he presses his lips close to your ear, voice low and dangerously smooth. “you like being watched that badly, huh? well, i’ll make sure you don’t even get a chance to squirm.”
you’re struggling to focus, trying to keep your hand steady as you bring the eyeliner back to your lash line, but it’s almost impossible with suguru’s iron grip keeping you firmly on his lap, his arms wrapped around you like you might escape at any second. his breath skims against the back of your neck, and he chuckles softly each time your hand trembles, knowing full well what he's doing to you.
meanwhile, satoru’s barely holding it together on the edge of the bed, and he’s not even trying to hide it. he’s got one hand slowly working his dick over his pants, the other still gripping your phone as he reads off your search history, letting out a low, exaggerated groan between words.
“let’s see… ‘getting absolutely used by my two roommates’…” satoru moans out the title, every word slipping from his lips laced with a mix of teasing and raw need.
his eyes flicker over to you, heavy-lidded, a wicked smirk creeping onto his face. “y'know, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”
you shift in suguru's lap instinctively, your body craving some kind of friction, some release for the ache pooling between your legs. but his hold only tightens, hands splaying over your thighs to keep you completely still.
“what do you think you’re doing?” suguru’s voice is low, dangerous, his gaze dark as he watches you through the mirror. “i told you to keep still. or do you need a reminder of who’s in control here?”
the demand in his tone leaves no room for defiance, but your pulse quickens, the heat radiating from his chest pressing into your back as he keeps you locked against him. you bite down on your lip, doing everything you can to keep yourself composed, but your voice comes out in a breathy whisper. "s-suguru… please, i just —"
“‘please,’ huh? sounds like you’re already begging,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of your neck, sending a jolt of anticipation straight to your cunt. his fingers trail lightly over your hips, teasing, but keeping you pinned firmly in place.
“but begging isn’t going to get you what you want tonight.”
satoru lets out a soft laugh, the sound melting into a quiet groan as he slips his hand into his pants, finally giving himself the relief he’s been aching for. “oh, don’t worry, i think she’s getting everything she wanted, alright,” he says between breaths, his eyes flickering between you and suguru with that playful glint that drives you wild.
he jerks himself slowly, deliberately, his breath catching as he reads off another title from your history, voice turning breathy as his hand works himself harder.
“this one’s good… ‘roommate makes me sit still while i drip for him.’ god, you’ve got a real filthy mind, don’t cha?”
your cheeks burn as you try to keep your gaze fixed on your reflection, hands shaking as you lift the mascara wand, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. but your efforts are futile, every word they throw at you stoking the heat building in your cunt, making it harder and harder to focus.
“don’t worry, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice is a rough whisper, his lips curling into a smirk as he catches your gaze in the mirror. “we’re just giving you what you’ve been craving all along.”
satoru’s moans fill the room, breath hitching each time his hand slides down his dick, the rhythm picking up as his eyes darken with lust. he’s not even hiding his arousal anymore, not holding back, his gaze burning as he watches the two of you in the mirror.
“c’mon, 'guru, stop teasin' her. hike up that damn dress, let’s see what she’s hiding under there.”
suguru’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, the glint in them both dangerous and amused. he moves slowly, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, lifting it inch by inch, fingers brushing over your thighs, making your skin tingle as he exposes more of you. he lets out a quiet hum of approval as he tugs your dress up to your waist, leaving you sitting there, fully exposed, save for the thin fabric of your panties.
“these are cute,” suguru murmurs, voice low and teasing as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to the floor. he lets his hand trail back up, grazing the inside of your thigh, making you tremble with anticipation. “don’t even think about moving, sweetheart. if you mess up your makeup, ’m stopping.”
you swallow hard, nodding, feeling your pulse throb as his fingers dip lower, brushing against your already-sensitive clit. the touch is feather-light, almost too soft, and it leaves you aching for more.
satoru groans from the bed, his hand moving faster as he watches you, his reflection in the mirror every bit as unrestrained as his tone. “that’s it, sugu'. make her beg. let her feel what she’s been fantasizing about this whole time.”
you force yourself to focus on your blush, lifting the brush to your cheeks, trying to keep your hand steady even as suguru’s fingers start moving in slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the pleasure sparks through you, making it nearly impossible to concentrate, and you can feel your cheeks burning, your breathing quickening with every movement of his hand.
“s-sugu… please… don’t stop,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation as you fight to keep your grip on the brush. “please… i’ll do anything.”
he chuckles, low and taunting, leaning closer to your ear, his fingers pressing down just a little harder. “then keep your hands steady, doll. if you want me to keep goin', you better not mess this up.”
but it’s useless; between suguru’s teasing touch and satoru’s moans filling the room, your hands are already trembling, and the brush slips, leaving a streak of blush too high on your cheek, too heavy, ruining the carefully crafted look you’d been working on.
suguru notices instantly, his eyes narrowing, a mocking smirk on his lips as he catches your mistake in the mirror.
“well, look at that. can’t even follow simple instructions, can you?” he tsks, pulling his fingers away, leaving you aching, desperate, empty.
“n-no, sugu, please —” you stammer, voice raw with need, looking at him through the mirror, eyes pleading. “please, i’ll fix it, i swear. just don’t stop, please… i need it, i need you —”
satoru laughs, still stroking himself, his voice thick with pleasure as he watches you beg. “she’s real desperate for it, 'ruru. look at her, practically falling apart from just a little teasing.”
suguru’s gaze is unyielding, his smirk growing as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. “then maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep still,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "maybe i should let you sit here and watch instead. see what happens when you don’t listen.”
your heart pounds, every nerve in your body on fire, and you’re barely even thinking when you grab his wrist, pulling his hand back to where you need him most.
“please, suguru,” you beg, voice thick with desperation. “i’ll do anything… i’ll fix it, just… please touch me. don’t leave me like this.”
satoru’s groans are growing louder, filling the room with the heat of his breathy, drawn-out moans as he watches the scene unfolding in the mirror.
“yeah, sugu',” he mutters, hand working faster over his dick, his eyes trained on your reflection. “spread those pretty folds f'me. lemme see her fall apart.”
without a moment’s hesitation, suguru’s fingers grip your thighs, spreading your legs wider, baring you completely in front of the mirror, his hand moving down to part your slick folds with calculated ease. you gasp, your cheeks burning as you take in the sight — your own reflection, flushed and needy, legs open, your slick glistening in the low light. suguru’s eyes flick to the mirror, catching your gaze, smirking as he takes in the mess you’re making on his lap.
“look at that,” suguru murmurs, voice low and edged with satisfaction. his fingers slip between your folds, gathering the wetness that’s been dripping down onto him, his smirk only deepening as he holds his slick-coated fingers up in the mirror, showing you just how worked up you are. “you’re soaking me, sweetheart. did you really expect me to stay calm with you squirming like this?”
“s-sugu…” you whimper, feeling yourself clench as his fingers dance between your folds, teasing but not quite giving you what you’re aching for. every brush of his skin against yours sends another wave of heat through you, and your head falls back against his shoulder, lips parted in silent desperation.
“such a messy girl,” he continues, pressing a single finger into you, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch as he slides in. “this what you wanted? to end up spread open, on display for us?”
you can barely form words, your mind hazy with need, hips instinctively rolling against his hand despite his warning to stay still. “yes… yes, please…”
satoru’s moans grow louder as he watches you, the slick sound of his hand stroking himself filling the room. “fuck, look at her, suguru,” he pants, voice thick with arousal. “all pretty 'n desperate, just like she’s been dreaming about.” his eyes fall shut, his hand moving faster as he chases his high, the sight of you enough to send him over the edge. his hips jerk forward as he cums, his body trembling, a low, satisfied groan escaping his lips as he rides out his release.
suguru only smirks, his gaze never leaving your reflection, watching your every reaction with a dark, predatory satisfaction. “see that?” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to let you cum.
“even satoru couldn’t keep himself together, and here you are, makin' a mess all over my lap.” he chuckles, a teasing glint in his eyes. “tell me, sweetheart, did you really think i wouldn’t get turned on by seeing you like this? so desperate, so needy?”
“i… i didn’t think…” you stammer, the words catching in your throat as his finger curls inside you, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.
“didn’t think?” suguru’s voice is a low, dangerous hum, his other hand slipping up to wrap lightly around your throat, holding you firmly in place. “then maybe you should’ve thought a little harder.”
satoru practically stumbles forward, his legs still shaky, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he moves closer. he’s got that pleading look in his eyes, the one that’s rare, the one that only comes out when he’s truly desperate. resting his head against suguru’s shoulder, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, voice low and needy as he murmurs, “suguru… let me taste her. please.”
suguru’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly reveling in the control he holds over both of you. he doesn’t respond right away, just looks at you through the mirror, dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something far more possessive.
“hear that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, dipping his fingers back between your folds, swirling them slowly, thoroughly, gathering every bit of slick as he teases you with languid strokes. “even satoru can’t resist you.”
you gasp, body shivering as his fingers press against you, teasing the sensitive spot that has you arching in his lap, barely able to keep your head straight. suguru’s hand is relentless, moving with a torturous slowness that leaves you aching, dripping, clinging to the last bit of control you have left.
then, with deliberate care, suguru pulls his fingers back, coated in your slick, and holds them up in front of satoru’s lips, his gaze hard and commanding. “go on, then. taste her.”
satoru’s eyes darken with unrestrained hunger as he stares at suguru’s fingers, coated with the evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he parts his lips, leaning in to take suguru’s fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he sucks gently, his tongue swirling around suguru’s fingers, tasting you fully. he moans, soft and low, savoring the taste, his body shuddering as he licks every trace of slick from suguru’s skin, desperate, greedy.
“fuck, she tastes so good,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost reverent, as he licks his lips, leaning in closer to you, his gaze heated. “didn’t know you could be this sweet.”
suguru chuckles softly, watching satoru with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement, his fingers finding their way back between your folds, slipping in with ease, now even more eager to tease you, to push you right to the edge and keep you there.
“well, you heard him, sweetheart. seems like we’re both a little addicted to you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety taunt, his breath hot against your ear. “you’d better get used to this — having both of us right where you want us. or, should i say, right where we want you?”
you’re lost in the haze of it all, every shred of control slipping as you feel yourself practically begging, voice breaking with need. “please, sugu… 'toru… i need… just, please, do something — anything,” you gasp, head tilting back, completely vulnerable under their gaze. "can't take it anymore."
satoru’s hand slips around suguru’s shoulder, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to suguru’s neck, lips brushing against his skin as he murmurs, “c’mon, sugu, don’t be so mean to her.” he lets his teeth graze just slightly, a playful nip that’s more coaxing than demanding. “just look at her, desperate for us, dripping all over you. can’t you give her a little taste of what she’s been begging for?”
suguru’s gaze flickers between you and satoru, a dark smile on his lips, but you can see the way his resolve begins to soften under satoru’s coaxing. his grip loosens just enough, giving you a chance to scramble up, your legs feeling like jelly as he finally lets you go. he stands, smirking down at you with a hunger that makes you shiver, and gestures for you to sit back on satoru’s lap.
the vanity chair feels cold beneath you, but the warmth of satoru’s chest pressed against your back is intoxicating, his hands coming down to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “thaaat’s it, baby, open up for sugu. let him see how pretty you are.”
you whimper as you feel suguru’s fingers trailing up your inner thigh, eyes locked on cunt as he kneels down between your legs, his gaze dark and unyielding, filled with that same possessive hunger you’ve come to crave. his hands settle on your thighs, tugging you just a bit closer, his grip firm as he lowers his head, placing a kiss right against your aching, dripping pussy.
satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs, keeping them spread, his lips brushing against your ear. “look at you, such a messy lil' thing. bet you never thought we’d be the ones to make you this needy, hm?” his voice is a low murmur, taunting yet sweet, driving you to the edge with every word. “just let suguru take care of you… let him taste allll that sweetness you’ve been saving just for us.”
“oh god… please,” you breathe, voice breaking as suguru’s tongue flicks against your perky clit, sending a jolt of pure pleasure through you. he works with a deliberate intensity, his mouth moving in slow, tantalizing circles, teasing you, pushing you higher and higher, until you can barely think, every nerve alight with sensation.
“thaaaat’s right, just like that,” satoru murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter, keeping you spread wide open as he watches suguru devour you. “such a pretty lil' thing, all laid out for us… makin' a mess just for him.” his hand moves up, sliding around to your chest, fingers grazing over your nipples as he leans in close, lips brushing against your neck. “think you can take more? think you can handle everything we want to do to you?”
suguru’s mouth moves with more intensity now, his tongue pressing harder, faster, flicking over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, hitting that spongey spot that has you arching back against satoru, your voice breaking into a desperate, breathless moan.
“you’re so close, aren’t you?” satoru coos, his tone almost mocking, a playful edge to it as he watches your every reaction in the mirror. “look at you, falling apart so easily. gonna make such a pretty mess, aren’t cha?”
suguru’s fingers pump into you, his tongue swirling, flicking, his movements pushing you to that razor’s edge. his grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you tremble, his own hunger growing as he devours you with an almost feral intensity. "come on," he growls against you, his voice low, sending vibrations through you. "cum for us, show us how much you need it."
and that’s all it takes — his fingers curling inside you, his mouth pressing down, sending you spiraling over the edge as you cry out, back arching, body quivering as your orgasm crashes over you. you feel yourself let go, shuddering in their hold, leaving you breathless, a mess on satoru’s lap as suguru keeps working you through it, lapping up every bit of your sweet cum, refusing to let you come down easily.
“there you go,” satoru murmurs, voice laced with satisfaction as he keeps you spread wide, watching you come undone, helpless and completely at their mercy. “such a good girl… makin' a mess for us like that.”
suguru pulls back slowly, a smug grin plastered on his face, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. he chuckles lowly, eyes glinting with satisfaction as he wipes a bit off his face with the back of his hand, though not nearly enough to hide what he’s done to you.
“look at that,” he taunts, giving you a mockingly impressed look. “made ya squirt allll over my face. you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? such a messy little thing…” he trails off, licking his lips as if savoring every last taste.
you feel heat rush to your face, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as you squirm in satoru’s lap. “don’t… don’t say it like that,” you mumble, your voice trembling, though there’s no denying how much his words affect you. you can’t hide how badly you’re still aching, the intense wave of arousal making you want more, despite the fact that you just came, and squirted, at that.
satoru’s hands roam along your thighs, holding you tight, his lips curved into a playful grin as he leans forward, his mouth hovering close to suguru’s. “she did a number on ya, huh?” he says, eyes gleaming with delight as he catches sight of the slick coating suguru’s chin.
without missing a beat, satoru closes the gap, his lips capturing suguru’s in a deep, messy kiss, tasting you on him, savoring it. he moans softly, the sound low and teasing, his tongue exploring with unrestrained enthusiasm as he presses closer.
the sight of them kissing, sharing your taste, is almost too much to bear. you can’t stop the whimper that escapes you, a sound so needy it leaves you breathless. “don’t leave me out,” you plead, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “please… i want…”
they both pull back, a wicked grin spreading across satoru’s face as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing your lip in a slow, taunting motion. “oh, sooo needy, aren’t cha?” he purrs, enjoying every bit of your desperation. “well, we can’t just ignore a request like that, can we, sugu?”
“not at all,” suguru murmurs, his voice low and filled with mischief as he moves closer, settling back down in front of you. he places his hands on your thighs, his fingers curling possessively as he draws nearer. “c'mon, sweetheart. let’s make it a little messier, just how like you like it.”
satoru’s hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips brush against yours, just close enough to make your pulse race. suguru’s hand finds its way to your cheek, and in a moment, the three of you come together in a heated, breathless kiss. your lips meet satoru’s first, his mouth soft but demanding, as suguru’s lips slide over yours from the other side, his taste mingling with the lingering remnants of your own cum. it’s dizzying, overwhelming, the way they both claim you, tongues slipping against yours, tasting, exploring, hands holding you in place as if you might slip away.
“you taste so damn good,” suguru whispers against your lips between kisses, his voice hoarse, filled with a dark satisfaction. he pulls you back into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before satoru’s slips in, joining the two of you, the three of you completely lost in each other.
“bet you never thought ya’d end up like this, huh?” satoru teases, voice a breathy murmur as his lips trail down to your jaw, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that have you arching closer to him. “on my lap, our pretty little thing, squirmin' and desperate for both of us.”
suguru lets out a quiet sigh, and you can see the strain of impatience tightening his jaw as he kneels in front of you and satoru, his brow furrowed in something halfway between a pout and a scowl. he’s letting you and satoru indulge and draw things out, but his patience— impressive as it is — seems to be fraying at the edges.
“look at you two,” he murmurs, a dry chuckle slipping out. “have your fun, make your mess, and where does that leave me?” his gaze flickers between you and satoru, voice low and pointed. “just standing here, waiting, like a good little bystander?”
“oh, poor suguru,” satoru teases, his hand running soothingly down your back as he shifts you on his lap. “you’ve been so patient, haven’t you? just watching and… wanting?” satoru’s lips twitch in a smirk, his fingers curling against your hip as if making a show of it for suguru’s benefit.
suguru’s eyes narrow slightly, his usual calm slipping into something darker. “patience only goes so far, satoru,” he mutters, tone thick with frustration. “you two get to cum like a bunch of damn teenagers, but where does that leave me?”
you reach out, voice soft, feeling a pang of guilt. “suguru… don’t be mad.” you give him a small smile, tugging him closer. “we didn’t forget about you.”
satoru grins, pulling suguru even closer. “yeah, don’t worry, we’re all yours now. what do you want, hmm?” his voice drops, playful but inviting, his hand resting on suguru’s shoulder.
suguru’s hand reaches out to cup your chin, thumb tracing along your jaw as he finally, slowly, allows himself to smile. “maybe,” he says, voice soft but firm, “you both owe me a little something for waiting so long. i’ve put up with enough teasing.”
satoru chuckles, sharing a look with you before looking back at suguru. “oh, we can more than make it worth the wait, can’t we?”
suguru’s eyes glint with that familiar authority as he finally straightens up, standing up and crossing the room with calm, measured steps. his gaze flickers between you and satoru, a quiet command already forming in his dark, focused eyes. he looks pointedly at satoru, a hint of impatience underscoring his words.
“satoru,” he says, his voice low and firm, “take her to the bed. it’s about time you two put in some work.”
satoru’s eyes light up with a mischievous gleam, and he scoops you up, one arm slipping under your knees as he gently lifts you, carrying you to the bed without a second’s hesitation.
he sets you down on the bed, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in close, his gaze warm but teasing. suguru settles back in the chair by your vanity, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate slowness as he watches, amusement flickering in his eyes. there’s a clear expectation in his expression, a silent reminder that he’s still in control here.
“don’t let me down now, satoru,” suguru says, his voice rich with authority, his gaze unwavering. “show me exactly how well you can follow instructions.”
suguru exhales sharply, eyes narrowing as he watches you and satoru with a simmering impatience. his jaw tightens as he pushes down his waistband in one swift motion, freeing himself with a low, restrained groan as his hand wraps around his dick, stroking slowly, his gaze heavy and fixed on the two of you.
“don’t just sit there,” he says, his tone edged with authority. “if you’re so set on putting on a show, then do it right. make it worth my while.”
satoru grins, a glint of challenge in his eyes as he glances at you, his fingers tracing down your arm before he pulls you close, his voice a low murmur against your ear.
“guess we’d better make him happy, hmm?” he teases, hands resting on your hips as he guides you down onto his dick, his touch both reassuring and charged with excitement. “don’t want to disappoint, do we?”
you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in being watched, knowing suguru’s eyes are glued to every little move you make. your hands grip satoru’s shoulders, and he chuckles, encouraging you as you settle in him, letting yourself get lost in the moment.
“that’s it,” suguru murmurs, his tone dark with satisfaction. “show me how eager you are.”
you can feel satoru’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as you begin to move, finding a rhythm together. satoru’s hands roam along your waist, his voice filled with playful heat as he whispers, “keep going, just like that. let him see how good you are.”
suguru laughs, a low, mocking sound as he sits back, continuing to jerk himself off, his dark gaze fixed on you, unrelenting. “pathetic. you think you deserve to be taken out and treated sweetly?” he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “you’ve got two men right here who know exactly what you need, and you were gonna settle for some monkey? that’s adorable.”
the humiliation sinks in, burning hot under your skin as suguru’s words echo in your head. you try to keep your focus, to follow each command as satoru’s hands guide your movements, urging you to grind down on him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers filthy encouragements that send shivers down your spine.
“come on pretty, don’t look at him, look at me,” satoru murmurs, fingers pressing into the tender flesh of your hips, directing you with a firm, possessive touch. “thaaat’s it. show him who you really belong to.”
your hands tremble as you cling to satoru’s shoulders, eyes flicking back and forth between him and suguru, who’s watching with that insatiable hunger in his eyes, his own hand moving lazily along his dick, strokes slow, deliberate, just enough to keep himself on the edge as he observes every humiliating, vulnerable moment between you and satoru.
“god, you look so pathetic right now,” suguru sneers, his voice thick with disdain, though his eyes glint with barely contained desire. “tears in your eyes, desperate to please us. tell me, was this what you were hoping for? were you just pretending to go on that date so we’d punish you? is that it?”
“n-no, i… i just thought…” the words choke in your throat as you feel satoru’s hand slide up to grip the back of your neck, his touch both comforting and possessive, holding you in place, forcing you to look into suguru’s intense gaze as he studies every quiver of your lips, every tear that spills over.
“don’t lie to us,” suguru snaps, and the sheer authority in his voice sends a thrill through you, leaving you helpless as you try to keep your rhythm on satoru’s lap, your body caught between the need to please them both and the overwhelming shame of being so exposed, so vulnerable under their scrutiny.
“you’re lucky ’m lettin' him touch you first,” suguru continues, voice low, his hand moving faster now, breaths coming in harsher pants as his own arousal intensifies. “lucky i’m not dragging you over here and showing you what real punishment feels like. maybe then you’d think twice about pulling a stunt like this again.”
“i… i’m sorry,” you whimper, the apology tumbling out without thought, the words desperate, choked as you try to meet suguru’s unyielding gaze, wanting so badly to appease him, to make up for even the idea of going anywhere without them. satoru’s grip tightens, his hands moving with a rougher urgency, guiding your hips faster, harder against him as he murmurs praises, teasing promises against your neck.
“yeah? you’re sorry, huh?” suguru taunts, leaning forward, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “then prove it. show me how sorry you are by doing exactly what we tell you — no hesitation. make me believe you’d do anything to keep us happy.”
“y-yes, suguru…” you whisper, cheeks burning with shame as you follow satoru’s guidance, riding him just the way he wants, feeling every inch of him pressing into you, the tension building with each movement, each lewd sound that fills the room.
“good girl,” suguru breathes, eyes dark, satisfaction evident as he watches you, his strokes quickening, matching the pace of your desperate motions, his gaze unwavering, fixed on the sight of you breaking down, surrendering completely to their control. “maybe this will teach you who you really belong to.”
satoru’s grip on your waist tightens with each roll of your hips, his smirk stretching wider as he watches you struggle to keep pace, his cock stretching you until your thighs tremble. your own voice, hoarse and raw, betrays you with every sound that slips free, the room filled with your desperate, incoherent whimpers.
but it’s suguru who keeps that edge of humiliation sharp, his fingers finding every weak spot, every place that makes you melt and squirm as he's behind you.
“c’mmon, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his fingers pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. the roughness makes you gasp, your body arching as you try to focus, but his low chuckle tells you he knows just how close to breaking you really are.
“thought you wanted to go out and be wined and dined, hm? but look at you,” he taunts, his words hitting deeper than any touch could. “acting like a little masochist, practically begging for more. ’m not even sure you remember who’s inside you right now, or are you just too dumb on ‘toru’s cock to care?”
“s-sugu… i–i can… i’m –” your words stumble, dissolve, lost in a gasp as his fingers come down with a sharp slap! against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure that makes your whole body shiver. it’s overwhelming, cruel, but there’s no denying how much you crave it - the brutal control, the way they push you further, faster, until all you can do is hold on.
“oh, i think you like it, babe,” satoru teases, his tone dripping with that cocky assurance as he watches your dazed expression. “see, you’re taking everything we’re givin' you, even that little ache in your hips. you’re just gonna keep goin', aren’t cha?”
“y-yes… anything… i’ll… i can — i can take it,” you pant, voice catching as you meet suguru’s dark eyes, filled with that familiar, ruthless amusement. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his touch unyielding as he pinches your nipples again, harder this time, watching with satisfaction as your face contorts with a mix of pleasure and pain.
“yeah? then prove it,” suguru breathes, his voice low, daring, as his fingers slide back down to flick against your swollen clit with a relentless pace. “show me how much you can handle. if you’re gonna be ours, then you’d better keep up.”
it’s cruel, it’s overwhelming, but that edge of that masochistic thrill surges through you as you sink deeper, surrendering to every brutal, delicious touch, loving it more than you could ever admit.
satoru’s grip on you falters, barely able to register when suguru thrusts into you from behind, satoru's hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as he tries to steady both of you under the sudden, relentless rhythm. the shock jolts through your whole body, forcing a strangled moan from your lips as you’re practically bounced between them, your mind barely keeping up with the intensity. it’s messy, overwhelming, the slickness of your bodies pressed together, every nerve ending alight.
“you little slut,” suguru snarls, voice rough and dark, his grip bruising as he slams into you, barely giving you a moment to adjust. “thought you could keep me out of this? thought ‘toru could have you all to himself? what a selfish bastard,” he sneers, throwing a mocking glance at satoru, who’s panting beneath you, just as helpless as you, his own words failing him in the haze of pleasure.
satoru’s only response is a choked groan, his nails digging into your skin as he’s forced deeper inside you with every brutal thrust from suguru. “f-fuck… yeah… yeah, you’re right, sugu,” he manages to gasp out, voice strained. “should’ve… should’ve let you have her from the start, huh?”
his words are broken, barely coherent, but the way his hips buck up to meet you makes it clear just how much he’s losing himself in the feeling, in the sight of you completely overwhelmed between the two of them. his eyes lock onto yours, desperation painted across his face as he breathes, “who’s making you feel better, huh, baby? tell us… tell us who’s got you like this.”
the question leaves you reeling, mind scrambling to answer as every thrust sends sparks down your spine, your body caught in the unyielding rhythm of their touch, their words. the overwhelming intensity builds, cresting higher and higher until you can’t even find the words, can’t think of anything but the way they’re both consuming you whole.
and when suguru’s fingers snake down to rub at your clit with punishing pressure, it sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision going white as your whole body clenches, shuddering violently. your orgasm crashes over you, raw and uncontrollable, soaking both of them as you shake, lost in the haze of pleasure that drowns out everything else.
“oh, fuuuck, yeaah… that’s it,” suguru growls, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you cum, his thrusts not slowing, his hand digging into your hips with renewed force. “knew you’d come apart like this, just needed a little push. pathetic, aren’t you? look at you, makin' a mess all over us.”
satoru moans, his own hips thrusting up as he feels your cum coat his dick, his eyes half-lidded, dazed. but before you can even catch your breath, satoru’s hands are already pulling you down, his grip firm as he positions you above him, eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger.
“oh, you thought you were done, sweetheart?” he taunts, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “nah, you’re not getting off that easy.”
he drags you forward, forcing you to settle over his mouth as he takes a loonnng, deliberate lick, his tongue swirling over your already sensitive folds. a sharp, keening whine escapes your lips as the overstimulation makes your head spin, hands scrambling to grip the headboard as you try to find any bit of balance.
“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” satoru groans against you, the vibrations of his voice making you shudder. “can feel you shakin', baby. what’s wrong? thought you could handle us?”
“sato — please,” you gasp, the plea spilling from your lips as his mouth works you over, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking until you’re trembling, barely able to hold yourself up.
“oh, you’re just greedy, aren’t cha?” suguru’s voice comes from behind, mocking yet laced with desire as he steps up, his hands pressing down on your back, pinning you against satoru’s mouth as he positions himself against your other roommate. “actin' like a needy little thing… and leaving me to finish off while you get all comfy on ‘toru’s face?”
satoru lets out a muffled moan, and you realize suguru’s not just watching — he’s lining himself up against satoru, pushing inside with a sharp thrust that makes satoru’s body jerk beneath you, his hands digging harder into your thighs as he’s sandwiched against you both.
“fuck, suguru,” satoru moans, his voice coming out muffled as he keeps his mouth firmly latched onto you, his grip tightening as his body shivers with every thrust suguru gives him.
“god, 'toru, you’re so desperate,” suguru sneers, picking up a ruthless pace, each thrust making satoru’s tongue press deeper against you, pushing you closer to another orgasm despite the aching overstimulation that has you seeing stars. “you’re always actin' like a greedy little perv… can’t even let me have her to myself without gettin' ya share, huh?”
satoru’s hands move to grab your waist, pulling you closer, nearly burying his face in your sloppy pussy as he lets out a choked, needy whine against you. “c-can’t help it… shit, ya feel so good,” he gasps, voice muffled and broken, his breath warm against your swollen folds as his tongue presses deeper, eager and desperate. “taste s'sweet, baby… can’t get enough.”
you’re practically sobbing by now, your hands gripping the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white as you rock against his face, feeling the pleasure climb with each swirl of his tongue, each brush of his lips. “i… i can’t… too much, satoru, please —”
“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” suguru growls, his hand coming up to push between your shoulder blades, forcing you to arch as he ruts into satoru, the sharp rhythm making you jolt with each movement. “you’re gonna stay right here and take it, just like the little slut you are, yeah? don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
satoru’s moans grow louder, more desperate, as he’s thrust into over and over, the pleasure and intensity breaking him down as his grip on you tightens, his mouth working you over with fervor, almost as if he’s trying to drown himself in you.
“who’s makin' ya feel good, huh?” suguru taunts, his voice dark and rough as he keeps up his pace, driving satoru’s face further against you with every thrust. “tell me who’s got you fallin' apart like this.”
“y-you both — oh god, both of you, please —” you stammer, your voice breaking as your thighs shake, every nerve alight, each stroke of satoru’s tongue pushing you closer until you’re lost, another orgasm overtaking you, spilling over like a flood that leaves you sobbing, spent, and completely theirs.
caught between suguru and satoru, the pleasure swells in waves, overtaking you so completely that words blur into desperate confessions, spilling out between gasps and shudders.
“l-love you… both of you, so much,” you babble, the sincerity threaded with breathless need, and it’s enough to push them over the edge.
satoru’s groans vibrate against you as he holds your hips, fighting to keep focus on your pleasure even as suguru’s relentless hand brings him to his own breaking point. he tries to keep his mouth steady, his tongue still teasing over you, but he’s undone, bucking helplessly, gasping, “shit… suguru, i —”
“you like this, don’t you?” suguru sneers, his voice thick with both pride and satisfaction as he thrusts into satoru. “can’t even take your eyes off her, even while i'm inside you,” he taunts, his words making even satoru flush. “look at you both, so desperate, so damn needy.”
satoru lets out a strangled moan, his body tensing as he comes, his release coating his own stomach as suguru’s hand jerks him through it. satoru’s head tilts back, eyes half-lidded with dazed pleasure, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he lets himself fall into the sensation, never breaking contact with you.
the combination of their sounds, suguru’s deep, satisfied groans as he spills into satoru, satoru’s quiet, shuddering gasps beneath you, and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your own body, sends you tumbling into your third - or was it fourth? - climax. it’s dizzying, consuming, leaving you boneless, shaking, barely holding onto the headboard as the last tremors run through you.
satoru is quick to catch you, his strong arms guiding you down to rest, his mouth softening from its earlier intensity as he places gentle kisses against your thighs. “ya good, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his tone tender, grounding you with a warm smile as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.
“yeah… just, totally spent,” you mumble, a laugh slipping out as you relax into his hold. suguru settles beside you, his hand stroking soothing circles on your back, his gaze softened from its earlier sharpness.
“good girl,” suguru praises, his voice quiet now, full of affection as he pulls a blanket over you. “took everything we gave you… we’re proud of you.” his lips brush your forehead, and for a moment, there’s only warmth, only the steady rise and fall of your breaths.
you snuggle between them, letting out a contented sigh. “oh, by the way, um…” you start, a sheepish pout forming, “there wasn’t actually a date tonight.”
there’s a beat of silence before satoru bursts into laughter, his hands coming up to cover his face as he leans back, groaning.
“are you serious?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “we did all that because you made up some story?”
suguru smirks, though there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as he leans close, tugging you gently by the chin so you’re looking right at him. “you’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice low with amusement. “but you’re ours now, so there’s no need to make up stories to get our attention.”
“unless…” satoru teases, his eyes glinting mischievously. “you just like getting us all riled up.” he taps your nose, chuckling as he pulls you back against him, letting you rest in his embrace.
you let out a soft giggle, feeling safe, cherished, utterly at ease. satoru's arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him as his laughter bubbles up, muffled by your hair.
"oh, yeah," he snickers, his voice low and teasing, "guess we’re a trio now, huh? what, you didn’t think it’d get official after all that?”
suguru huffs a laugh, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he leans in, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of amusement and mischief. “our little trio, huh?” he murmurs, his tone somehow both affectionate and playful. “and here i thought you’d keep us on our toes a little longer.”
you look up at them both, cheeks still warm, lips swollen from all the breathless kisses, and you can’t help the laugh that spills out of you. “so that’s it, huh? i’m stuck with you two now?”
“stuck?” satoru grins, his voice full of mock offense. “you better be thrilled to be our third, princess. you know how hard it was to keep this one” — he tilts his head at suguru, whose smirk only grows — "from swooping in first?”
suguru chuckles, rolling his eyes as he brushes a thumb along your cheek, his voice dipping. “oh, she was always going to be ours,” he murmurs, confident and possessive. “it was just a matter of when.”
“and where,” satoru quips, giving your hip a playful squeeze, making you squirm with a laugh. "and how often."
you press your hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “what did i get myself into?” you mock-groan, only to have both of them pull you close, laughter and warmth wrapping around you, sealing you into your newfound trio — exactly where you want to be.
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maskedbyghost · 3 months ago
Text
lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss
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situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”
along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.
he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”
when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”
as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.
you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.
almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.
back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.
despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.
simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.
one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.
later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."
after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.
a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.
“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”
simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.
simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.
once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”
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@daydreamerwoah
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bi-writes · 4 months ago
Note
Could you do one of Simon forgetting to bring his lunch and so his wife brings it except she turns up in a cute sundress??
mail-order bride (18+)
"simon...simon riley?" you ask.
the officer raises a brow, looking down at your ID and then back at your face. he frowns a little, scratching the back of his neck.
"he's a lieutenant," you add, biting your lip. "uhm...and he works with...with john."
"john?"
you suck in a shaky breath, biting your lip nervously.
"captain john price?"
the officer just glares at you a little before picking up his radio.
"yes, ma'am. wait here."
he turns his back to you, walking a little ways away, and you hear him speak into the radio lowly.
"...got a civilian here asking for lieutenant riley..."
"...negative, sir..."
"...oh. affirmative, sir. right away."
the officer comes back, giving you your ID back. he looks sheepish now all of the sudden, and he smiles at you, which unnerves you almost.
"u-uh, so sorry ma'am. you can park near the main office, right that way," he points to a building far to the left, "i'll have someone come meet you there to take you inside. again, apologies...we're going to put you on a list, mrs. riley."
you frown a little, shrugging. you're not upset. it's a miltiary base, for christ's sake, and you've never been here; of course they would be apprehensive about letting you in. but the private looks terrified out of his mind, so you just smile a little and make your way towards the parking spot he pointed out.
when you get out of the car, you push the door closed with your hip, picking up the bag in the passenger seat. there's a woman standing by the door, smiling and waving at you. she looks very smart, in a nice pantsuit. you smooth your dress down, smiling back at her, and you swing your purse over your shoulder before making your way to her.
"hello, mrs. riley. the lieutenant's wife, i hear?" she asks. you nod and shake her hand.
"y-yes...he...he said he was just doing administrative stuff today, but he forgot some things so...i just wanted to do something nice--"
"right!" she nods her head towards the door. "i can escort you to his office. uhm...i believe he's debriefing with captain price this afternoon, but i'm sure he can make some time." she winks at you when she says that, and you bite back a shy smile.
she takes a seat at her desk, picking up the phone. she yaps for a few minutes, and you take a seat in an empty chair, smoothing your skirt out. your wearing one of simon's favorites, the cherry-printed mini dress he loves so much, but you realize maybe he might not be the only one. there's a myriad of privates and soldiers that walk past you, and you hear some whistles by some of the bolder ones. you suddenly feel very self conscious, tucking your legs underneath yourself. you're wearing white strapped wedges, your hair styled nicely with a bow to match the dress, but now you feel silly, stupid.
why would you go to a military base dressed like a fucking pin-up girl?
"wot are you doin' 'ere?" a rough voice demands.
mmm. that's why.
you look up from your chair, smiling wide when you see him. simon stands with his arms crossed over his tact vest, tilting his head to the side as he glares at you from under his skull mask. you've never seen him strapped before, though. he's got a gun tucked into his thigh holster.
"h-hi," you pick up the basket next to you, standing up, and when you come close, simon is rough, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you near him with a short growl.
"oi," he snaps, but you just flutter your lashes at his harsh voice, smiling bigger. "can't fuckin' come 'ere lookin' so pretty."
you giggle, and even though you're wearing heels, you still find yourself standing on your toes as you try to get close to him.
"you forgot what i packed for you, simon. how could you forget?" you pout a little. he sighs deeply, smoothing his gloved hand down your back before nodding his head.
"c'mon. can't 'ave ya out here. fuckin' muppets starin' at my wife."
he turns and immediately starts walking. he's entirely too fast, and you skip in your wedges practically to try and keep up with him. when he notices, he slows his pace, and you grip the basket better in your hand before reaching for his with the other.
your hands intertwine, and you look around as you walk, reading the plaques on the wall, the shiny medals, waving at johnny when you see him holding a bag of crisps upside over his open mouth.
when simon shuts the door behind you in a dark office, you set the basket down on the desk, pushing back the kitchen towel fabric.
"okay, so i brought those muffins you like from that little shop. they had blueberry this morning, oh my gosh, simon, they also started putting out these little scones that--oh!" you gasp as he grabs you from the fat of your hips, a big flat palm over the base of your spine as he pushes you flat onto your stomach onto the desk. "simon!"
simon sucks on his teeth as he flips up your skirt, letting out a low whistle as he palms your ass, spreading the fat of it so he peek at the seam of the white lace you're wearing. you lay your palms against the desk and whimper, not used to simon being so rough, so upfront, so bold.
"can't just come here all dressed up, baby," simon grunts, shaking his head. "and not expect me to take wot i need...been surrounded by nothing but wankers all fuckin' day..."
you relax a little, giggling.
"simon," you sigh, your eyes closing as you push your hips back into his hands. "i missed you so much..."
"tha' why y'came down 'ere, luvvie?" he asks, smirking under the mask. "ya missed me? missed y'r husband? what'd ya miss, baby? tell me."
you arch your back a little, bowing it, and you laugh when he gives your ass a firm grab before picking you up and spinning you around, caging you against the desk. you smile up at him, dazed, a little dizzy, and he winks at you, eye-black dark and deadly around those killer brown eyes. he's so big, so hot, and you're suddenly very aware of how big simon looks in all his gear.
"i don't know," you say softly. "it's so cold in bed at night..."
simon snorts, "tha' right? 's cold? the lil' shits don't keep ya warm?"
"our girls like to sleep on your pillow, i think they miss you, too."
"fuckin' lil' bastards," simon chuckles, and you sigh, sliding your hands up his vest and tugging him just a little closer. your spread your knees to let him between them, and he reaches down and grips your thighs, hiking them up around his hips as he sits you onto the edge of the desk. "fuck, you're so fucking pretty..."
you tilt your head back for him.
"i miss eating with you. it's so quiet when you're not around."
"mmm. i bet, luv."
"and i miss you when i'm alone," you whisper. "i miss you when it's just me..."
simon narrow his eyes, "tell me, swee'eart."
you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you. you kiss him over the mask, tasting sand and ash, licking over his lips through the cotton. it's lewd, disgusting, but he groans under the fabric.
"when, simon? when?" you ask, and he hums lowly.
"when? 'ow about right now?"
"no way, you're so gross, simon," you giggle. "our first time is not going to be on a desk in some dingy office where you work--"
you seize when he cups you between the thighs, big gloved hand palming your cunt through your lace panties. you arch your back and gasp, gripping his biceps tight as you lean into his touch.
"don't need t'make it our first time," simon tilts his head to the side. "can still make it real fuckin' nice, baby."
"oh, now you wanna touch me?" you suck in a shaky breath. "just because some of your men wanna look up my skirt?"
"oh, for tha', i'll make ya scream my bloody name, for oll of them ta hear," he growls, and you smile wide up at him.
"guess they need to learn i'm a lieutenant's wife," you giggle, and simon whistles low, tugging your panties to the side, and you whimper when you he prods at your entrance with two big gloved fingers.
"ahhhh..." simon hisses. "ya like tha' title, tha' it, baby? yeah...yeah you like tha'..."
"i like it," you whine, and when he meets your watery eyes, he plunges those big fingers deep, thumbing at your clit. your mouth falls open, your nails digging into his sleeves, and you suddenly wish you had asked him to take you to get your nails done so you could really claw it. "i like it..."
"could make these boys lick the fuckin' ground ya walk on," he mutters, and you whine when a particular rough thrust of his hand squelches between your thighs. "they'd do anythin' to please me, baby...even johnny would chew your bloody food for ya if i asked him to--"
you reach down and grip his wrist, your thighs shaking as you jolt. it feels so good, your entire body is on fire. his fingers are petting a nice little spot inside of you, stroking it as he pumps his hand nice and steady inside of you. his thumb is working you in gooey circles, flicking at your clit and putting taut the little string in your lower belly. your whole brain feels like it's fizzling, your blood rushing, and you stick out your tongue, licking over his masked jaw as you start to feel like you're gonna pass out from the wet slick, slick, slick sounding from your wet cunt.
"simon--simon--" you pant, and he groans, nodding his head.
"so pretty, baby," simon breathes. "so fuckin' tight, gonna 'ave to work ya open before i give ya my cock, lovey..."
"it's so big," you mumble, and simon coos, nodding his head.
"i know, baby, i know, 's big, real big...but you can take it, remember?" he laughs. "you can take it woteva i give you..."
you nod.
"i can take it--i can take it--!"
your vision blurs. there's tears coming down your face, sweat lining your forehead, your back, but you can't wipe the giggly, lazy smile off your face. simon cups the back of your head with his free hand, sitting you up, and when he pulls his fingers out from between your legs, his gloves are stuck to his hand practically, completely soaked through.
"y'r so pretty when y'cum," he murmurs, and you stick out your tongue for him. he gets the message, shoving his mask up just enough, and he bends to kiss you warm and wet.
"well then," you meet his eyes, all languid, all relaxed, a devious little grin on your sweet face. "why don't you give me another then?"
simon grins, all teeth.
"woteva ya want."
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a-b-riddle · 8 months ago
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Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️
It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.
You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.
But the past two returns home have been… different.
Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.
“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.
After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.
He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?
So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.
The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.
Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.
He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.
“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.
“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.
You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.
Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.
“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.
“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”
“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”
For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”
“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.
“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”
“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”
“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.
None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.
“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”
You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.
Four times the love.
But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.
John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.
Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.
Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.
And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.
Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.
None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.
You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.
So you did the only thing you could.
You hung up.
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aphelionwrotes11 · 6 months ago
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(MDNI 18+) (unedited)
Trucker!simon x reader (afab)
CW: smut, unprotected PiV penetration, dubcon (slight alcohol consumption, not a lot)
Part 3
Trucker!simon, as puntual as ever, raps his heavy fist against your door at 7pm sharp. You have to take a final look at yourself in the mirror to ensure you still look well groomed.
When you open the door Simon’s huge form takes up nearly the entire doorframe. He’s wearing heavy dark blue jeans, a flannel button up, and a thick leather jacket. He has a bouquet of red and pink roses. You get to enjoy his uncovered smile as you fawn over them.
He lifts them for you to smell, but the only thing you catch of whiff of is his musky cologne, rich and deep. Once you get the roses settled into a vase, Simon walks you to his pickup with a warm hand resting firm on your hip.
When you ask him where he’s taking you, he just glances your way with a smirk,
“You’ll see, lovey.”
You giggle and ask him how much longer it’ll be.
“Wot’s the matter? Just can’t wait much longer for it to be over and be in my bed?”
You gape at him, your face flushing red, and he chuckles. He must notice you squeezing your thighs together, because a moment later he plants his massive hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze.
By the time you two make it to the restaurant, you’re certain there must be a puddle on his brown leather seats with how much he was squeezing your thigh, teasing his fingers just under the skirt of your dress. Your legs feel like jello as he helps you out of the truck.
The place he’s taken you is a lot prettier than you imagined, cute and atmospheric. You’re a bit shocked that a gruff man like him would know any places like this.
Has a reservation for the two of you, at a table he specifically chose. A private table in the corner, nestled between two large plant covered windows. You gasp at the view, looking out over the well lit street.
When you ask him how he found such a lovely place, he tells you he knows the owner’s husband.
“S’my ol cap’s wife, used to be in the force with em’. Same team. Lovely couple, they’ll like you.”
You listen to him speak, asking him questions about his time in the military. When it’s time to order, you take a final glance at the menu, your brows furrowing. It’s a real nice place, and the prices reflect that.
“You can get whatever you want, lovey.” He says, but you just frown. So he looks up at the waiter and tells him to give you both another minute.
You explain that you’re sorry, everything’s just so expensive, you don’t want to cost him too much. He looks offended and grunts, leaning over to you.
“Money ain’t an issue f’me.”
“I’ll get you anything you want, anything at all, bird.” He says so gently, you’re unsure he’s even talking about food.
By the end of dinner, your belly is full and your cheeks are warm, from him or the glass of wine, you aren’t sure. The two of you talked for hours, and your stomach still hurts from how hard he made you laugh with his ridiculous dad jokes.
You feel giddy as he walks you out to his truck, arm around your shoulder. You nestle yourself into his side, taken in his heat and his smell. The mood shifts once the two of you get into the truck. Suddenly the air is too hot, and you would really love to lose a few layers.
Just like before, he plants his warm palm on the fat of your thigh, massaging his fingers into it. But this time, as his fingers breach the skirt of your dress, they keep inching up until his thumb is pressed up against your clothed sex. You suck in a breath as he applies some pressure to your throbbing clit.
“So wet already, ain’t ya bird?” He whispers, his voice thick.
The only response you can give him is a whine as he shifts his hand till he’s grinding his palm against you. You meet his pace, moving your hips against his hand, grasping his arm as you whimper.
His other hand grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. He struggles to even keep his eyes on the road, and when he finally glances at you, just to see you looking up at him all needy and flushed, he has to resist pulling over and taking you right here in his truck. Instead he just presses harder on the gas and on your wet pussy.
By the time you’ve made it to his home, you’ve already cum twice. Your gasping and twitching as he jumps from out as soon as he puts the truck into park, speed walking to your side and ripping the door open to smash his lips against yours.
Carries you up the front door, your legs wrapped around his waist. He parts from you only once to unlock his door and take you both inside. He pushes you against the wall, tearing of his jacket as you pull off your own. His hands grab the hem of your dress, you help him pull it over your head. You blush as he pauses for a moment to take in your matching set, red lace bralette and panties.
“This all f’me? So perfect.” He groans. Hand coming up to cup your tit and press a wet kiss to your lace covered chest.
By the time he has you laid out in his bed you’re naked and hot. You claw at his shirt, whining at him to take it off.
He complies without second thought, ripping it off and revealing a muscled, scarred chest. You can’t help how you practically mewl at the sight of him.
He bends down as he’s removing his jeans to press kisses down the expanse of your throat. His mouth finds a nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He licks your chest sloppily, groaning as he sucks hickies on your tits. He stands straight as he pulls off his boxers, revealing a thick cock, the tip an angry red as it leaks precum.
“Look a’ what you do to me love. Never been so hard.” His voice is low and nearly whiny near the end of his sentence.
Spends a real long time stretching you out on his thick fingers. Sucks on your tits and neck the whole time. He’s almost as loud as you, watching you as you squirm beneath him with groans falling from his lips. You cum at least 2 times, but you aren’t sure, your bones feel like jelly and your vision is so blurred from tears you can barely see Simon’s face. If you could see it, you would see how pussy drunk he looks, absolutely love struck.
When he finally lines himself with your entrance, he gently squeezes your hips and presses a few sweet kisses to your mouth.
“You ready bird? Think ya can take some more?” He asks softly.
Yes, yes, please. You tell him. Finally.
Doesn’t waste another moment and finally pushes himself into your slick cunt with a low groan. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, gently thrusting himself into you at first.
“Feel s’good.. so so good.” He mumbles against your skin, halting his movements for a moment.
He lifts himself to his elbows, analyzing your face to ensure you’re comfortable. With your approval he starts moving, fucking you with long and languid thrusts. Pulling his cock all the way out before pushing back in.
After a while of him moving like this, you feel like you’re about to fall apart again. You claw at his back, legs wrapped around his waist as he hits a gooey spot within you that has you clenching on his cock.
“Give it t’me sweetheart, please, I need it.” He says, sounding utterly wrecked.
And once you come on his cock, he loses it. He starts humping himself into you at an ungodly pace, one that has you crying and mewling his name. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, you can’t even form the words to ask him to slow down, but given the look on his face you aren’t sure if he’d even hear you.
He looks so out of it, practically drunk. His eyes are half lidded and lips parted as he grunts and gasps. His hands hold your hips in a vice grip that you know will leave marks, not like it matters though, he’s already marked all over your chest and throat.
“Been- been waiting to take ya out fer- fu-uck-“ he pauses, his hips snapping against yours, “since I saw ya bird- knew you were mine. All mine.” He growls out.
His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull as you clench down on his length, he lets out a breathy moan as he slows his movements.
“W-where you want it birdie? Where y’want me to cum?” He gasps out.
Blows his load as soon as you squeak out a quiet “inside.”
He’s growling, gasping and panting, as he pumps his load into you. Keeps thrusting even after he’s cum, pressing his nose into your hair and whining.
Once the two of you have come down, and you finally stop seeing stars, he quickly hops up to get a wet rag and cold glass of water. Cleans the both of you up and urges you to take a few sips, finishes what’s left of the glass once you do.
You practically pass out as soon as he’s got you wrapped up in his warm, burly arms. He stays awake though, petting your hair and gazing at your pretty face. He’s finally got you, and he’s never letting you go.
Note: it was HELL trying to get this done for you guys today :((( my wifi decided to die once I was halfway through with the first part of this fic, which then deleted everything and I had to rewrite EVERYTHINF. That and my poor doggy has been losing his mind over the fireworks going off every ten mins (curse you Fourth of July). It’s fine tho, cuz I think it turned out so cute. Ofc I had to add in the fluffy ending, also please forgive the repetitive word use and unnecessary commas!! I’m planning on coming back and editing this one hardcore, if I end up adding any major things to it I’ll just post the updated version (as well as this one) but this will do for now!! Just wanted to give u guys something to chew on cuz I left you all high and dry with the first part lol
Simon Riley master list
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rafeysbunny · 1 month ago
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bf! jj eating you out in the twinkie
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your hips buckle impatiently against jj's face, pretty eyes looking through the window of the twinkie to make sure no one's around. he's peppering a bunch of wet kisses all over your creamy thighs, lips gently suckling at the sensitive flesh, which has you panting heavily already.
"c'mon, jay..." you whimper softly, and there's a pleading tone to your sweet voice. "gotta be quick."
only your crazy boyfriend could convince you that it's a good idea to let him eat you out in the back of john b's van in broad daylight, when it's clearly not. not when you're in the middle of a parking lot and your friends are in harbor freight, getting some shopping done for the poguelandia renovation. they could come back at any moment, for god's sake.
"relax, princess. i'll have you cumming in less than five minutes," he whispers cockily, hands sliding up your thighs to push your pretty, floral dress up and around your waist. "just lemme enjoy this for a bit, yeah?"
precisely, it's the dress which has gotten you into this situation in the first place, the piece of clothing making your gorgeous body look so good that jj has been dying to get his hands on you the whole day. "so fuckin' pretty." his warm breath brushes your skin while he talks, his face a few inches from your covered sex, to which he presses a chaste kiss; the action makes you shudder.
he'd keep teasing you with featherlight touches and little kisses for a bit more, relishing in the way your body arches and your hips rock upwards desperately— until he finally hooks his fingers in the gusset of your white cotton panties and pushes them aside gently, exposing your soaked pussy.
"such a dirty girl, huh?" he teases, gliding his fingers through your slit to part your slick folds. "gettin' all wet f'me, knowing our friends could walk in on me eating out this sweet cunt..."
cool air caresses your overheated flesh before he leans in and drags the flat of his tongue up your centre, nice and slow, which makes your whole body shake. your mouth drops open in response as you grab a handful of his soft, blonde hair, hips jerking unconsciously.
he moans at your taste, his piercing, blue eyes locked on yours as he closes his lips around your sensitive clit, his fingers hooking around your supple thighs to keep you spread open for him. you can feel the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin due to his hard grip. that, added to the feeling of his skilled mouth sucking onto your pussy, has your head swimming.
you'd be panting heavily and whimpering in no time, your pussy a sopping mess from your own arousal and his spit. he easily slips two thick digits inside your dripping hole, alternating between sucking and flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers crook to rub against that spongy spot at the front that makes your vision blur and your pretty eyes roll back into your skull as you moan, not caring that someone might hear.
the orgasm builds rapidly, the coil in your tummy tightening while your pussy flutters around his fingers and your pretty little toes wiggle inside your converse. as promised, he has you cumming in less than five minutes, the pleasure so much that you squirt onto his handsome face with a whiny whimper, completely soaking everything inside john b's car.
the sight almost makes him cream his pants.
"fuck, jay, how are we gonna clean this shit up?" you'd mutter, still trying catch your breath, just before you both hear your friends' chatter getting close to the twinkie.
hell, you're screwed.
more.
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majestyeverlasting · 1 month ago
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𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐞.𝐦.
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This piece contains 18+ content.
Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends → lovers]
Summary Eddie holds good on his promise to take you out on a date, and as the night comes to a close, you realize you’re not ready to say goodbye [fluff, smut, 4.3k].
A/N This is the long-awaited continuation of come whatever may. You can read that first if you'd like, but enough context will be provided here. Spoiler alert: the sex is very soft, teasy, and desperate because they’re in l-o-v-e. Haven't written smut in nearly two years, but I evoked the muses of times past—and thus!...
PART 1
∘°∘♡∘°∘
Summer is long gone, but when you open the door to Eddie holding flowers, the warmth that rises to your cheeks makes it feel nearer than ever. It’s a vibrant bouquet composed of white roses, red lilies, baby’s breath, and leafy foliage. The wrapper crinkles as he extends them to you with an easy smile and soft hello. Your eyes flick back up to his after admiring the delicate blooms. 
There’s a healthy flush to his cheeks, his curls neat and defined. The black leather jacket he’s wearing clings to his slender frame with a polished edge. Under the weight of your gaze, he huffs out a chuckle that reminds you you’re still on earth. 
“Gonna let me in, sweetheart?” Charm drips from his voice and shimmers within his chocolate eyes. 
Nodding, you shuffle backwards, allowing him to enter and push the door shut behind himself. As he steps further inside, you can feel his gaze sweeping over your outfit. An olive-green corduroy dress layered over a beige turtleneck that’s soft against your skin. His smile grows, glinting bright enough for anyone to believe he just won the Lotto when, really, it’s just the pretty sight of you holding the flowers he bought. 
“These are beautiful.” You raise the bouquet, but Eddie’s eyes remain on you. Seeking refuge from his gaze, you tuck your nose down to inhale the sweet fragrance of the petals. “They smell amazing too.” 
“That’s all you, sweetheart.” 
You get shy when his eyes meet yours. “You like my outfit and everything?” 
Eddie swallows back a degree of his earnestness so he doesn’t sound too far gone. “Of course I do, are you kidding me?” 
Seemingly out of nowhere, Robin descends the staircase with a bag slung over her shoulder like she’s prepared to leave, hair tied up in a messy bun. Given your parents were away in Indianapolis for the weekend, you’d asked her to come over and help you get ready so you wouldn’t be alone. 
Eddie’s eyes flick to her, clearing his throat. “Did you help her pick this out, Buckley?” 
“Obviously,” she smirks. “Nice hair.” 
“It is really nice,” you agree with a soft smile. Eddie lifts a passive shoulder, chest fluttering. 
“Rob, do you think you could…” she takes the bouquet without you having to ask. The two of you had shuffled through the attic and dug out a vase earlier that afternoon. 
Eddie had promised this date, along with flowers, a week ago when you slipped away from Steve’s party to be alone. That night, he’d kissed you in the heat of the moment but wanted to backtrack and do things right. You deserved that much. 
The time you’ve been looking forward to has finally come. 
With your hands now free, the only thing you can think to do is wrap your arms around Eddie. The world goes still as he hugs you back, nerves quelling beneath your skin. For a moment, you merely enjoy the warmth of the same arms you’ve been wrapped in countless times before. With your head tucked into his chest, enveloped by the faint scent of his cologne, you release all the worries that ride on the sweeping coattails of change. For a moment, he’s just Eddie, your best friend. 
When you pull away, he leans in, tilting his head with that familiar, boyish curiosity. “You alright?” he asks quietly, searching your gaze.
You nod, a smile breaking through. He takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, “Just checkin’.” 
Robin soon walks back into the foyer. “I put the flowers in a vase for you,” she announces, taking her hair down and shaking it out. “Hate to admit it, but you two are actually cute. It’s disgusting.” 
“Hey,” Eddie lifts his hands, laughing. “Little victories.” 
She adjusts her bag on her shoulder with a content sigh. “Welp, I’m about to go pester Harrington at Family Video.” She turns to Eddie, playfully narrowing her eyes. “You better treat her right, ‘cause best believe I’ll be hearing all about this date.” 
When she slips out the door, Eddie smiles at you in silent assurance. 
●・○・●・○・●
The sun hasn’t quite begun to set, but orange and pink faintly blend on the horizon. A cool fall breeze flows in through the cracked windows as the radio plays softly. Eddie had asked his Uncle Wayne to borrow his pickup truck because it’d be more romantic than his bulky van. You can’t say whether he was right, only that you’re grateful to be riding shotgun with him—headed to an unknown destination, no less. 
You’d already guessed through a list of places that Eddie denied with amusement. Sighing, you look out the window to people bustling about, walking dogs and strolling out of shops. You’re coming out of the more commercial side of town, nearing Lover’s Lake and the state park.  
“I give up,” you sigh. 
Eddie chuckles, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, ignorant to his warming effect on you. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you a hint.” That makes you peer over at him in interest. “If I had to guess, I’d say not a lot of people have had the chance to try it out yet.” 
That’s a dead giveaway. Your mouth falls open in surprise. “That new place along the lake—Stillwater Grill?” The twitch of Eddie’s lips is telling. “No way!” The excitement in your voice makes his chest tighten.
Stillwater was supposed to be good, from what you’d heard. A slightly elevated dining experience minus the formalities and steep pricing of a restaurant like Enzo’s. Where classic American favorites embrace small-town charm, according to the paper. 
Upon your arrival, the parking lot houses a pretty decent number of cars. Lover’s Lake provides a serene backdrop that catches the evening light. Couples stand outside admiring the view. Eddie opens your door and helps you out of the truck like a proper gentleman. You happily tuck yourself into him as you walk inside. 
When you were younger, you often wondered what love would be like. Books and the movies always presented countless possibilities, but you always believed it’d be special for you. So different that nothing else would be able to compare—perhaps, selfishly. One thing for sure, you never could’ve dreamed up someone like Eddie. 
As he sits across from you under the dim glow of the lights, laughter and chatter filling the air, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to put all this into words. Belly full, you realize what you’ve enjoyed even more than the food and cozy, rustic atmosphere was is company. 
Eddie has an inexplicably magnetic way. There was a magic in getting him all to yourself. In relishing the lovely sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was always on the verge of laughter. The passion he exuded made it seem like the way he loved a given thing was biblical. He could talk the ear off a cornfield if he wanted but knew instinctively when to listen. Even your passing remarks seemed to bear some semblance of importance to him.  
Conversing with him had always been easy, but without other people vying for his attention, you were truly able to admire the boy before you. To embrace the deepening attraction. 
As you wait for the waiter to bring the tab, you don’t realize you’ve grown silent and begun blinking at him with the fondest eyes. 
●・○・●・○・●
The wooden stairs of your front porch creak under both your footsteps as you climb them, stopping in front of your front door as the night settles around you. Moths flutter around the lanterns framing the door, crickets chirp in the lawn. Eddie kicks at a dead leaf, combing through a sea of thoughts in search of the right words. 
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says. You wait for him to continue. His doe eyes search yours for the briefest moment, seeing right through you it seems. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? ‘Cause I think it’s gonna be hard for me to quit you.” 
Your mouth opens a couple times in a mix of giddiness and surprise. “Yeah,” you finally breathe. “Yeah, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” 
Smiling, he steps forward to capture your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that you feel everywhere. It manages to outshine the first, more desperate, kiss you’d shared a week prior. This one is steady and sure, like a promise sealed with a prim bow. When he pulls away to look into your eyes, you shyly duck your head. 
“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asks, lifting your chin. 
He doesn’t want to go, instead wishing he could stall and stay right here with you. He’s parted ways with you hundreds of times before, but now he can’t seem to figure out how he ever did. That’s how he knows he’s in trouble. The best kind. 
“I’ll pick up,” you promise. 
He stands at your door until you see yourself inside. It’s quiet without him. Your eyes land on the flowers he got you, now in a vase in the living room thanks to Robin. Too quiet. The sound of your front door reopening stops Eddie in his tracks. He turns around with a slight furrow between his brows. 
“Everything okay?” he calls, mindful of his volume. 
You make a small motion for him to come back to you. He listens in a heartbeat. 
There’s a weighted look in his eyes beneath the playfulness, “Miss me already?” 
“No,” you lie. 
●・○・●・○・●
It’s a wonder how you manage to make it feel like there’s a pleasant fire kindling within him. What started out as yet another easy conversation, has turned into you straddling his lap on the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as the TV drones in the background.
Everything feels heightened now. The brush of your lips against his, your fingers gently scratching at the nape of his neck. 
Eddie’s lips part in a soft, shuddering breath when you roll your hips over him. 
“Hold on a second, sweetheart.” His eyebrows are pinched as he pulls back from the kiss, hands stilling you. 
You blink down at him all owl-like. “Did I do something?” you murmur, purposely shifting over him again.
He restrains from canting his hips upwards. There’s a softness to his gaze even though his cheeks are flushed hot. 
“If getting me worked up counts. You’re real good at that.” His shamelessness is dizzying. “Just don’t wanna get ahead of myself.” It’s a subtle invitation, a chance for you to call things off in case you aren’t on the same page. 
But you can feel warmth pooling low in your belly. “What else am I good at?” 
He knows you’re game then. For whatever this is, whatever it’s bound to become. 
“Trying to pretend I’m not driving you crazy too.” He chuckles when you duck to hide your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 
There’s a gentleness to the way Eddie’s hand slips beneath the hem of your dress, meeting the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 
“Eddie,” you murmur, lifting from his neck as his fingers continue their trail upwards.
“Hmm?” He pauses, thumb stroking your skin in soft circles. 
“Can we go to my room?” A slight shiver runs through you as his fingers move to trace along the crease of your thigh.
“Your call, sweetheart.” 
Before he withdraws his hand, he snaps the waistband of your panties and grins when you straighten.  
●・○・●・○・●
The lamp on your nightstand casts everything in a dim, warm glow. Eddie shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your desk chair, eyes roving over the notebooks and pens strewn about. The sight of his tattooed arms makes you move to kiss him again, letting your lips wander to the corner of his mouth and his chin in a trail of warmth. He throbs in his jeans when you slip your fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and curl them into his stomach. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and steps back enough to pull the fabric over his head in one swift movement, muscles rippling as the dark ink on his torso is revealed. With newly disheveled hair, he kisses you backward onto the bed, crawling over top of you as you settle into the mattress with a pleased hum. 
Having the upper hand allows him to press hot kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as you huff out sighs and caress his milky skin with buzzing fingertips. Nothing about his movements is rushed, each press of his lips intentional enough to believe he'd had them planned for years.
Eddie didn’t know your body yet, not in the way he’d like to. But he was reading it in real-time. Cataloging every writhe and hitch of your breath so he knew where to return. The obsessive part of his brain often gets on his nerves, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful he wants to see every move and sound you can make. There’s an artistry to it, a musicality. 
An inkling of panic arises when he begins to suckle on the side of your neck as you offer it. Not because he’s being rough, but because it’s overwhelming enough to want to crawl out of your skin. A soft whimper rises up your throat as your hands find his flexed biceps, digging in. You’re unsure of whether to pull him closer or push him away. 
Eddie rises from your neck on his own accord, running a finger over the spot. “You like it when I kiss you here, huh?” There’s a slow, honeyed quality to his voice. 
When you offer a helpless nod, he leans back down again, and you shudder as his mouth laves over the same sensitive area a little ways beneath your ear. Exasperated, you blindly paw for the waistband of his jeans, fingers shaky as you fiddle with his belt buckle.
Feeling your struggle, Eddie moves to press a final kiss to your throat before pulling away from your neck. 
“Stupid thing,” you pant, pouting up at him for help. 
Chuckling, Eddie reaches down with one hand to undo it with ease. Then, watches with blown pupils as you hurry to undo the button and zipper. He slips off the bed as smoothly as he can to remove his pants, black boxers tented and straining. A spark of heat surges through you as you press your thighs together at the sight. 
No sooner is he crawling back to help you out of your clothes. The lacy underwear set you’re wearing beneath is a pretty shade of baby blue, and Eddie can’t help but palm himself. 
“Jesus,” he sounds awed and devastated at the same time. “You’re so gorgeous...” 
Before he’s even had time to process, you take off your bra, baring your chest for him to see. Your nipples pebble with the new exposure and all of two seconds pass before he’s surging forward, sending you tumbling back to the mattress in a breath of startled laughter he swallows down like a lifeline. 
You gasp into his mouth, back arching, as he cups one of your breasts, circling and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You’re barely kissing him back anymore, but he continues licking into your mouth as your lips part around shallow exhales. 
That’s when the phone begins to ring. Eddie sits back on his haunches despite your attempt to stop him. 
“Might be important.” His voice is rough. 
“They can leave a message.” 
He smirks, dragging a hand through his hair. “You sure?”
Lifting your leg, you run a careful foot over the swell of his boxers. He twitches at the contact. 
“You’re all I care about,” you murmur. “Need you, E.” There’s a desperate edge to your voice that draws him right back in.
“You’ve got me.” He runs a lone finger down the front of your panties. “Can I take these off?” You’re only half listening to his words, nodding to whatever. “Lift up for me.” The muscles of your thighs tremble as you do. 
Tossing your panties aside, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your belly button. Then another one just beneath it. A surprised sound rises up your throat when he gently spreads you open to kiss that swollen, sensitive part of you that’s pulsing with need.  
“Oh, gosh—” you stutter out, hands threading into his hair.
“Need me right here?” His voice is laced with a smile, and you can’t help a breathy laugh. Prideful warmth ignites in his chest. “Or do you need me somewhere else?” He trails playful, ticklish nips along your inner thighs, making you squirm. 
“Eddie, please…” 
He’s gracious enough to begin rubbing your clit in precise, measured circles, intently studying the pretty scrunch of your face.
“Firmer,” you instruct breathily, “—just like that, just like that.” Your legs spread wider instinctively, arching when he collects your slick with a slow, heavy finger. 
You’re already so on edge from his previous attention that it only takes a few moments before you ascend into bliss, muscles growing taut as your mouth falls agape. The strong, rhythmic pulses serve as your only touchpoint to reality along with Eddie’s tender caress at your slick, fluttering entrance. One he didn’t even have the chance to breach. 
“Look at you…” he says, voice thick. “Made it easy for me.” He laughs a little, more turned on than anything. 
“It’s not funny,” you halfheartedly assert, cheeks prickling. 
“No,” Eddie agrees. “Just super-duper hot.” 
As he raises up, you realize his other hand is tucked into his boxers, lazily stroking himself. A second wave of desire builds within you, overlapping the remnants of the first and any sense of embarrassment that had begun to kindle. It’s spurred by the deep flush of his cheeks, the way his eyes are soaking you in like he’s just witnessed the most beautiful unraveling. 
Under your hazy, watchful gaze, he scrambles off the bed. Without warning, he shoves his boxers down, kicking them from around his ankles. His arousal impressively springs up towards his stomach. You bite your lip at the rosy, leaking tip, the gorgeous vein snaking prominently along the underside. 
Eddie peeks over at you with a dazed quirk of his lips before retrieving his wallet from his jacket. He pulls out a square foil packet and promptly rips it open with his teeth. 
Upon crawling back into the bed, he isn’t expecting you to take his cock in a loose hold, stroking upwards from the curly hair at the base to circle your thumb around the tip. There’s a pleasant tug low in his gut as he kicks up in your palm. 
“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft, nearly a plea. You let your hand glide back down, this time venturing lower to cradle the soft weight hanging beneath. He nearly buckles forward. “What're you doing to me?” he rasps. 
“Nothing,” you murmur innocently, wetting your hand and giving him a few more easy strokes, enjoying the warm, veiny feel of him before withdrawing your touch. 
He curses under his breath as he rolls the condom down, his gaze never leaving you as you reposition yourself to take him. 
“Eager beaver,” you lilt as he crowds over you. 
“Yeah,” he exhales. “I am.” 
He lines up at your entrance, tip catching as he collects your slick with a wavering breath.  
You open your legs even wider. “Want you,” you murmur, breathy and sweet. 
The expression on his face is like something from a painting, raw and rapturous as he eases into your encompassing warmth. He takes it slow, giving you time to relax around him as you breathe through the dull ache of welcoming him in. A low, guttural sound escapes him once he’s buried all the way. 
Your chests brush. Tears prick in your eyes at the closeness, the feeling of being filled so completely. 
“You’re unreal,” he murmurs, lips clumsy against your chin. “Like I made you up in my head.” 
He begins moving, slowly drawing back only to push back in. A steady rhythm finds him as your mouth falls open, legs hooking around his thighs. The muscles of his back ripple with his effort, and you chart every tense line with your fingertips. 
With a low groan, he makes a minor adjustment to better reach that spongy spot within you. You arch into him with a whimper, breath catching in your throat. 
“There she is,” he whispers, reaching between your bodies to rub firm, steady circles against your clit. 
“Oh, god…” It sounds like you’re in pain even though you’re the furthest thing from it. When you close your eyes, tears stream down your face in twin streaks, surprising both of you. Eddie tenderly wipes them away, gaze soft. 
“You’re okay,” he promises. “It’s just me, angel.”
Except, Eddie isn't just anything. You’ve never felt so close to someone, so in tune, and somehow, it’s Eddie—sweet, goofy, wild-haired Eddie—who knew exactly what you needed. He picks up the pace as you arch and writhe beneath him, body yielding without question.
“You feel so good,” you whimper, clenching around him. 
His groan reverberates against your neck as his hips jerk sloppily, “Can’t say stuff like that…” Those words only make you tighten around him again.
The dazed way he mouths at your shoulder lets you know he’s clinging onto composure. You’re too warm, too everything—snug, and soft, and beautiful. He’s not ready for this feeling to end. This heady, binding haze of pleasure.  
“Eddie,” you breathe softly. “Wanna ride you…” 
Your plea nearly finishes him off. “Yeah?” he croaks.
You nod, whimpering. He barely withstands the feeling of slipping from within you. Shifting onto his back allows him a moment of reprieve, but he nearly loses himself when you straddle him, sinking back down with a circle of your hips. 
You brace your hands on his ribcage, steadily rocking on top of him as your head tips back. Sweat glistens in the divot of his sternum as he attempts to move in time with you. When you speed up, he closes his eyes to calm himself down. 
“Hey…where’d you go?” You croon, grazing your nails from his chest to his quivering stomach, relishing the feeling of his warm, dewy skin beneath your fingertips.
The wrecked way he forces his eyes back open almost makes you fall apart. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as a greater sense of urgency awakens between you. It’s in the way you speed up, both eager, desperate, chasing. He memorizes the way your body moves over top of his, the bouncy sway of your chest. 
“You look so pretty taking me like this,” he shudders. “My pretty girl.” 
“Eddie…” you coo, high and breathy. 
“I know, sweetheart,” he chokes out. “Wanna feel you come around me so bad.” He’s babbling now, “Shit, I’m not gonna last. I can’t take it anymore, angel...I can’t—” 
The earnest crack of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge, vision spotting. Pleasure radiates throughout every fiber of your being as your walls contract around him. He stills your hips with a firm hold, bucking upwards and coming undone in surging waves. You slide your hands over his abdomen to feel him flex with each strong jolt that wracks him. 
As your body begins to relax, you blink down at him, lips parted as you catch your breath. Eddie throws an arm over his face as he sucks in air, neck and chest flushed pink. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. 
Both of you shudder as you ease off him. The pleasant ache of loss pulses between your legs as you partially lay down on top of him, hooking a leg over his waist. He traces along your thigh in light, soothing passes. You can feel his chest rising and falling. 
“You okay?” he eventually murmurs.
You nod, kissing his shoulder. “You?”
“I think so,” he chuckles weakly. 
●・○・●・○・●
The afterglow brings a quiet stillness to the air. Clean and beneath the sheets, you study Eddie’s long lashes, his nose, his plush lips. He eventually cracks a self-conscious smile.  
“What?” he questions. You shake your head because you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look like he believes you. “C’mon...” 
So, you think of something, a small truth you’re willing to give him, “I just really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”
He hums, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “What was your favorite part?” 
“Probably the food at Stillwater,” you say, though your fingertips are tracing along his jaw, then down his neck, trailing to his waistline to lightly brush between his hip bones as he squirms. “Best I’ve ever had,” you lilt. 
Eddie breaks into a flustered laugh, leaning over to sleepily kiss the coy smile from your lips. 
“But really, though,” you say afterward. “Thanks for tonight. Never met a guy quite like you.” 
Eddie realizes then that he’d better get a head start on counting his lucky stars. 
-
Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.
NEXT PART | PART ONE
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monstersholygrail · 7 months ago
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Dinner is served
Pairing: Minotaur husband x fem!reader — oral (f! receiving), horn stimulation, cum eating, aftercare
You always figured yourself to be a traditional person. You know, you wanted the husband, the house, the white picket fence. The whole nine yards.
You had also always gone for the traditional man. Big muscles, tough and strong, a protector and a provider. It was the type you always tended to gravitate toward.
Your ex had been that kind of person. The kind of man who expected dinner and a stiff drink waiting for him as soon as he got home. For a while you enjoyed it, taking care of someone. But eventually you realized that while you took care of him, he never took care of you.
Now you still prefer a nice traditional guy. Your new husband is just as traditional, preferring dinner to be ready and waiting as soon as he comes home.
Only now the meal is you.
Minotaur husband comes to walking into your shared home, hooves booming against the wood floors due to his size. He lifts his nose and breathes in a long whiff. A heavenly mixture of your scent and his comes rolling into his nose and he shudders.
Walking into the dining room he's disgruntled to find you not where he expected you to be. With his impatience simmering he calls out your name.
"Why isn't dinner on the table?" He adds, his voice rising in order for you to hear him, wherever you were off too. You come prancing in a moment later, the dress you're wearing providing him easy access.
"Sorry! It was a nightmare getting this thing on," you tease, falling into their waiting arms and rising onto your toes for a kiss. Your husband responds immediately with a fierce determination to consume you. His claws squeezing at your soft hips and pulling your small body into his ginormous stature. You shiver at the way he so easily surrounds you. How he could so easily crush you yet you've never felt safer than when you're in his arms. A smirk plays on his lips as you two break away.
"Well, get on up there," he says through gritted teeth in attempts to hide how eager he is to devour his meal. His hand slides down, giving your ass an appreciative slap. A small yelp leaves you as you fall to your feet.
Tossing him a scolding look, you head deeper into the dining room. Hopping up on the table and reclining. You watch your husband walk past you, his gaze very much intent on one thing. As he sits down at the head of the table, your legs automatically widen for him, resulting in a gruff snort of praise.
With his claws digging gently into your thighs, your husband dives right in, his long thick tongue splitting your folds open with ease. You cry out, gripping the table as he feasts on your cunt. His slobbering tongue lapping up your essence before delving deeply in your walls.
A short gasp of pleasure breaks through you and your hands shoot out, gripping the base of your husband's horns. Your Minotaur husband moans, hips jolting, and causing his bulge to nudge the underside of the table. You tighten your hold on his horns, shrieking as the table rattles below you.
"That's it. Hold on tight," your husband growls against your pussy, sending vibrations through your clit. You whimper loudly as he continues his feast with a feral vigor, tongue fucking you that he's been counting down the minutes till he could get between your legs. And you're sure he was.
His broad tongue reaches deep inside you, caressing your g-spot with every thrust. Your moans rise in frequency, another ripping out of you with every swipe of his tongue that consumes you.
Before you know it you're gushing on his tongue, using your grip on his horns to burry him in your pussy so you can grind on his face. Your husband grunts out his pleasure, making sure to swallow every bit of your release and lick up every drop he might've missed.
You shake against the table, your high still moving through you in waves. But your hands slide down to cup his dampened cheeks as he raises his head to look at you, gaze still sparking with lust.
His hands massage as your legs in attempts to calm the tremors. He looks over your weakened state and knows he should wait. Besides, he can't fuck you on a dining room table again. This is the tenth one he's bought in three months, the salespeople practically know him by name at this point.
"How about I start on the rest of dinner while you calm down, love?" He asks, the rumble in his voice filled to the brim with restrained need. He goes to stand up when he sees your pouting face.
"Take me with you?" You ask gently, your voice croaking slightly. Your husband's heart melts and there's no way he can deny you. Not that he'd ever decide to spend time away from you anyway when given the choice.
He scoops up your pliant body in his arms with ease. Your weight absolutely nothing to a man of his size. He keeps you huddled against the short fur of his body as he heads into the kitchen where he'll cook you both dinner as you sit all pretty on the counter. Only helping when you want.
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tetsvya · 7 months ago
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clueless, kuroo tetsuro
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!
➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader
➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers
➼ word count! about 1.4k
➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡
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"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.
Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!
"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.
"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.
Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."
"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"
"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"
"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."
"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."
"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."
Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.
"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."
There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?
"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."
All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.
Right?
A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.
"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"
Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"
"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"
Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."
"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.
"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.
"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"
"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"
"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"
"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.
"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.
Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."
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sooniebby · 7 months ago
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ఌ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘
W.C › 6.4k
Warning › bottom male reader. Reader has a cock and is mentioned to have slept with girls and boys. No set character, this is an OC, but you can imagine anyone
Plot › basically just this idea I had but expanded
Kinks › manhandling, accidental creampie, cross dressing, lite feminization, mirror sex, hint of dom/sub relation
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
To say you were a playboy was an understatement. New girl every week was you being nice. Now, as a senior, you didn’t care as much anymore.
Which led you to your current predicament.
You’d practically ran through the entire school by now and you were… bored.
The first years didn’t interest you. And you’d already gone through the pretty people in third and second year. It was looking like you’d have to start branching out to schools nearby.
A sigh left you as you plopped down at your seat, flicking at a lint of dust on your desk. It was lunch time and you weren’t feeling hungry. Well you were hungry for sex but not for food.
“Man, (L.Name), view this as a good thing! It’s lucky you haven’t gotten an STD by now.” Your friend, Ryun, said as he ate from his bento box. You only gave him a huff.
“I use condoms. They work, 99.9%!”
“Sure. I’m surprised none of the girls have gotten pregnant yet.”
Ryun let out a howl as you kicked his knee underneath the desk. “I fuck guys too! You should be wondering if I’m pregnant.”
“Wha—(L.Name), you can’t get pregnant.”
You shrugged. “You never know.”
“Are you insane?”
“Should you really be asking the resident slut that?” A voice cut in. Your eyebrows rose as you turned to see who was so bold to call you that only to see it was another one of your friends.
“Sana…! That’s so mean! I’m not a slut.” You whined as she plopped down at the desk beside you. She only gave you a knowing look before digging into her own bento.
“Ryun!” You looked straight at him. “Am I a slut?”
“Do you really want me to answer that…?”
“GAH!! Ryun~~~!” You whined, pouting heavily as you rubbed at your face in annoyance. The two ignored your childish behavior as you finally began to start eating your bento. It was a comfortable silence for a moment before a ding popped in your head.
“Oh no…” Ryun muttered, knowing that look in your eyes.
You leaned in close, grinning. “Guys.. This senior year, I should go for someone special!”
Sana sighed. “Who? Who haven’t you fucked by now?”
A teasing grin pulled on your lips as you motioned for them to come closer. As they pulled in, you looked around to make sure no one was ease dropping and giggled in excitement.
“Ito Yuki.”
A pin could be heard as Ryun and Sana stared at you for a moment. Their faces slowly contorting into something of pure disgust and disappointment.
“Him?! Student Council president, Ito Yuki?!” Sana whispered yelled.
“Mhm. I’ve never even noticed him before until now! You should’ve seen him. He still has those ugly glasses but he’s buffed up! What’s he training for?” You joked, laughing loudly in the quiet classroom.
Ryun groaned. “No way. Ito doesn’t date. Ever since he got ‘buff’ he has had girls tripping for him. But he’s turned them down! Every last one of them.”
Sana nodded in agreement. “Yeah. No way he’d get with you—especially with your reputation of dumping people after a week!”
“But that’s a good thing!” You cried. “If he’s never dated before, that means he’s a virgin!! Inexperienced!! Those are the best, especially in boys!”
“Gross, (L.Name).” The two said in unison.
You pouted. “Aah! You guys don’t understand!”
“I’d rather not,” Ryun countered.
“You’re just really perverted, (L.Name). And so weird. You won’t even let us call you by your first name.” Sana said, rolling her eyes.
“But he has no problem letting someone see his flat ass.” Ryun chuckled.
“My ass is not flat!” You gasped. “I’ll prove it—”
“—NO!!!”
You sat back down with a huff. Yeah, you were weird. Sana and Ryun, your friends since diapers didn’t use your first name. Only your mother and father did but you didn’t even like them saying it either. For some reason, it just sounds.. off hearing it from people.
There didn’t seem to be a real reason. You just didn’t like it. Though you’ve been hoping that one day someone would say your first name and you wouldn’t immediately grimace.
Oh well. You had more pressing matters.
And that was Student Council President Ito Yuki.
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“How are you going to ask him out?” Ryun asked, pulling out his bento. It’s been a week since your declaration to take Ito Yuki’s virginity but you haven’t really done anything. Mainly because he’s always doing student council president shit. Always so busy.
“Like how I ask everyone out.” You said, popping a grape into your mouth.
“Serious?” Sana gasped. “That unromantic shit you do? Gosh, people here have such low standards. I hope he rejects you.”
You gave her a tight glare and threw a grape at her, grinning when it hit her right on her nose. You weren’t unromantic so to say. But… your proposals left much to desire. You had a a short and sweet line.
“Hey, you’re hot. Wanna make out?”
You thought it was romantic but Sana believed the students here just didn’t have enough self respect. Both were probably true.
“Why would anyone reject this?” You sensually pull down your blazer to show off your collarbone and give Sana a flirty lip bite. She gagged immediately.
Ryun hummed. “I can think of many reasons why someone would reject you.”
“Ack! You two suck! Where’s the motivation?! ‘Ah, (L.Name), you’re so hot!! Who would ever say no to you?!’ Like huh??”
“You don’t need anymore compliments. Your head is about damn near jelly from your narcissism.” Ryun said.
You rolled your eyes. Tough crowd. The three of you continued on with lunch when there was a sudden shrill voice. You looked at Sana and Ryun before moving to the sliding door of the classroom, sliding it open and looking out the hallway.
And there he was.
Student Council President Ito Yuki.
A soft mop of jet black hair with over grown bangs. Mono lid eyes that resembled a fox eye. A beauty mark right underneath his right eye. Plump lips. Cheekbones. He still had those stupid circular glasses. His body, though. His body was insane. He wasn’t crazy buff but he certainly put on weight compared to his stick thin body from first year. He practically had boobs (pecs) now!
He was taller too. Maybe 182 cm…?
A group of girls followed behind him, all holding letters that they waved to try and give to him. Huh, was today? Fuck, it was Valentine’s Day!!
You cursed as you watched Ito Yuki continue to walk and ignore the girls, passively pushing away any one that got too close. You didn’t have shit to give him.
Also it wasn’t White Day so it would’ve been weird if you did… but boys can do Valentine’s Day too..? Right?
Ah, fuck it.
“(L.Name)?!” Ryun whispered as you stepped out into the hallway, right as Ito Yuki come close to passing your classroom.
“What are you doing??” Sana yelled, covering her mouth when a few students looked at her in surprise.
You squared your shoulders and stood up tall, only now noticing you only came up to his chest. Ah, you were a perfect height to suck on his—
Not now, (L.Name)!
Even in your thoughts you didn’t even use your first name. You let out a sigh and gave Ito Yuki your signature flirty smirk. Your eyes peering up at him, giving yourself a cute look. You had multiple ways of flirting, especially when it came to boys or girls.
A true bisexual playboy!
“Ito-San.” You said, blinking slightly to flutter your eyelashes. Ito seemed to be focusing on something else in his mind despite his eyes on you. Well you can’t have that.
You leaned in closer, resting your hand on his arm. You felt him visibly twitch at your touch, earning a slight grin on your lips. Too easy. There was whispering happening around you but you didn’t care. You’ve asked out people in public spaces loads of times.
This… was a piece of a cake.
“Ito-San… you’re—”
“—hot?”
You blinked, staring up at him in shock. Did he just? Your lips parted as you short circuited—should you continue or just come up with something on the fly? A slight gasp left you as his hand reached up and grabbed the back of your head, bringing you closer.
The crowd erupted into gasps, even Ryun and Sana looked absolutely shocked. You couldn’t even think. Someone.. was taking control? You—you—??!?
His breath tickled your ears as your eyes clinched shut, your hands digging into his blazer as you let out a stuttered breath. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle.
“Sure. Let’s make out.” He said, loud enough for only you to hear. With that, he pulled away, his hand gently rubbing the back of your head before dropping. His face was stoic, his lips straight but you could almost see a slight smirk on them as he walked past you.
It was hushed whispers as everyone dispersed as soon as the school bell rang, signaling lunch was over. Ryun and Sana ran over to you, Sana gripping your shoulders as she shook you.
“Hey, what the hell was that?!” She cried.
You only let out a whimper, looking at the both of them in pure shock. “I…I don’t know…”
“Wow. Ito Yuki changed. He put (L.Name) in his place!” Ryun laughed, patting you on the back. “So? He rejected you?”
Right. They didn’t hear him. You paused, almost wondering if you should tell them. Would they believe you? Sana and Ryun looked at you expectedly.
“Yea…” You muttered, laughing slightly. “He rejected me.” You looked down as Sana rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner. Ryun just patted your head as they steered you back to the classroom.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I..Ito Yuki?!”
You glanced up as you heard your classmates exclaim in shock. Ito… Yuki? It had only been a week since that incident happened and you hadn’t seen Ito a lot. But that was to be expected. He was in 3-A, smartest of the third years and c student council president.
Sana and Ryun were geeking out beside you as Ito walked into the classroom, heading straight towards you. You felt weird. Not uncomfortable but odd. Like your body was… scared of him? But it wasn’t a bad scared. It reminded you of going on a rollercoaster.
The fear during but the ecstasy afterwards.
“(L.Name).”
Oh. That’s a first. You didn’t like hearing him say that. Huh.
“H..Hello, Ito-San.” You muttered, your grip tightening on your bag as he looked at you. His gaze was intense, even with his overgrown bangs. You wished those bangs covered his eyes more.
“Let’s go on a date.”
The classroom erupted into screams at his words. Date?! Date with you of all people?! No one even cared that Ito was surprisingly into men. No, it was surprising he would go for someone like you. The school campus’s proud playboy that was barely passing through school!
You didn’t even get to answer as his hand grabbed your wrist and began tugging you along. Your eyes met Sana and Ryun who looked at you with pure shock. You couldn’t blame them.
You’ve never really gone on dates before. Sure, at the beginning in first year when you were starting out your slut activities. But by second year, anyone who dated you knew that you mostly wanted them for sex. So to have Ito Yuki, of all people, coming to date you was… shocking.
Also fake. It had to be fake.
Yeouch!
Not fake. Not fake at all.
This was how you’d soon find yourself in a movie theater. Ito had something about liking movie dates and there was a movie he wanted to watch. A horror movie maybe? You couldn’t pay attention. You sat down beside him, staring off into space as the movie began playing.
It was an American movie, judging by the fact you couldn’t understand them. You glanced up at the screen, seeing the subtitles on the right. Ah, a slasher. You’ve seen multiple slashers so you knew the format like you knew blowjobs.
But you didn’t expect Ito to be interested in this type of stuff. You glanced over at him, watching as he stared straight at the screen, occasionally taking a sip from his soda. Huh, he’s zoned in.
You sighed and decided to get comfortable. Lucky for you, most slashers knew not to over stay their welcome. So you began watching, occasionally glancing at the other moviegoers who decided to watch a slasher at 5:00 pm on a Friday.
Mainly older couples. A few high schools students. And what you could assume some college students.
A hand grazed your thigh which caused you to let out a loud gasp. Luckily a jumpscare drowned you out. You looked down to see the arm rest pulled up that blocked you from Ito and his hand resting just an inch from your thigh.
Huh. What did he..?
You didn’t get to think any further when another loud jumpscare filled the theater. Your attention turned right as a poor woman was sawed in half. Oh, what a way to die. There continued to be gorey deaths that you forgot all about Ito’s strange decision to pull up the armrest.
Not until the movie cut to a random couple having sex in the car. Ah, you knew kills like this. Directors seemed to love having naked women run for their life after their boyfriend is killed.
There’s probably something wrong about that.
Before you could delve deeper into this question you felt a hand rest on your thighs. Just as you were about to even look down, the hand moved to your crotch and squeezed. A gasped left you that was coincidentally timed with the actress’s.
Has Ito’s hands always been this big? You let out a sharp shudder as you watched him grope your crotch. Really, you should’ve pushed him away. But you were just shocked that someone like Ito would be doing this.
And in a weird way, you did… like it? But it didn’t last long, just as the actress was killed by the killer, Ito pulled away. You couldn’t help your slight whimper as you glanced over at him. He didn’t even spare you a look.
Jerk.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You went on a date?!”
You sighed as you rubbed your eyes, staring at the two clowns in your room. Ryun and Sana had a spare key to your home—thanks mom!—so they didn’t even need to wait for you to open it. It was the next day after your date with Ito. It ended a bit unsatisfactory.
He just walked you home and waved goodbye. He didn’t even give you his number.
“Yea… he literally said that yesterday after class.” You whined, wanting to just plop back down and sleep. You masturbated all night last night, wishing he had touched you more. Which was a fucking first. You usually never have a wet dream about your partners.
“Wow… maybe, Ito-San likes you?” Ryun muttered, biting his lip as he sat down on your bed.
“Ito-San and (L.Name)?! That’s crazy.” Sana exclaimed. “But Ito-San isn’t someone to prank around.”
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Mhm~ maybe this sexy body has him curious.” You teased, sending a flirty wink to Ryun. He looked at you with pure disgust.
“Yeah, right.” Ryun grabbed a pillow and threw it at your face. “If he does, I owe you dinner for a week.”
“Deal!”
“Oh,” Sana suddenly muttered. “Wouldn’t yesterday be the start of the week? So you’ll break up with him next week Friday?”
You pursed your lips. Yeah, she was right. But why did you suddenly hate the idea of leaving him? You only gave a noncommittal nod and get out of bed, wanting to just take a shower and wash off the masturbation from last night.
Ito had to have know about you. He knew your usual phrase when asking someone out.
Well, you had the rest of the week to find out what he wanted from you.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Technically you didn’t. Because it was already next Friday and he didn’t come for you at all. It wasn’t like you could call him either—you didn’t have his phone number. Sana and Ryun could tell it was affecting you but you didn’t even know why.
You’ve dealt with this. Sometimes the weekly partner ended up being just one night. And sure, you got a bit upset the next day but you’d bounce right back right after. You didn’t understand at all.
“(L.Name).”
You glanced over to see Ito Yuki staring down at you. Your classmates seemed able to not scream like last time. But their phones were out and were whispering to each other.
“I..Ito-San..?” You slowly stood up, looking up at him in shock. You should’ve been mad but you felt your heart flutter. Wow, you must’ve really wanted his dick.
“Let’s go to my house.” He said, which earned a round of gasps. Sana and Ryun looked like deers in headlights. You could only nod as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the classroom.
Damn, Ito Yuki. He’s probably the only partner that ever had you this bad over dick. And you haven’t even had it yet! Shame it was the last day.
Once you reached his house, you were shocked at how big it was. “Wow… Ito-San, are your parents rich?” You asked, slipping off your shoes as you walked behind him.
“Yuki.”
“Hm?” You replied, grunting when you bumped into him.
“We’re dating, no? So call me by my given name. That’s what couples do.” It—Yuki said nonchalantly, moving to go to the kitchen. You followed right behind him, unable to hide the growing heat on your face. This.. this was a first.
Would he do the same…? You hoped he would.
Much to your surprise, Yuki began making dinner for you. It wasn’t anything difficult, just chicken Katsu curry. You tried to help but he quite literally manhandled you to sit down at the dining table. If there was a growing bulge in your pants you quickly decided to ignore it.
After he finished, he placed a bowl in front of you and sat down beside you. You ate in complete silent. It was a bit uncomfortable because you weren’t used to dinners like this but it gave you perfect view of Yuki.
He looked so pretty? You weren’t sure. He had pulled his bangs back with a cute hello kitty pin and you couldn’t help but wonder who gave him that. He didn’t seem like the boy to like cute stuff. You were able to see his eyes better now—fox like eyes staring right at you.
You coughed slightly and looked down at your curry. “Hm, this is good curry, Yuki. Who, uh, taught you how to make it?”
“My mom.”
“Oh. Where’s your parents?”
“They’re out for the weekend.” He said, his eyes trailing down your face, right to your lips. “They won’t be back until Monday.”
Oh? A slight shudder left your body as your back straightened. The whole weekend? Did he not want this to last the week?
“But today is a full week?”
Yuki hummed. “Since we started dating? Yeah, do you like those type of things?”
“Eh?”
“Keeping track of how long we’ve been together? Do you like doing that? I can do it for you.” He said, finishing his plate off.
“Uh—”
“Sorry I couldn’t meet you during the week, I had to help plan the festival coming up.” He reached over and grabbed your plate. The plates clinked together as he carried them to the sink, gently dropping them in.
Before you could stand up, you felt Yuki rest his chin on your shoulder. You flinched at the touch but calmed down as his nose nuzzled your neck. A giggle left your lips at the ticklish touch. He pressed a kiss on your collarbone before pulling away, motioning for you to get up.
“Do you,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing the back of your head. “want to make out?” You didn’t even think before eagerly nodding, looking up at him expectantly. He pressed his lips against yours with ease. His glasses pushed against your face but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.
Your hand slowly reached up his body before resting themselves on his shoulders, fingers curling at his button up. Your lips locked with his, easily moving in tandem without pulling apart. Breathing didn’t seem important at the moment.
You hadn’t even noticed you were standing on your toes until the pressure on them began to hurt. A struggled gasp left you as you pulled away, needing to catch a breath while also resting back on the balls of your feet. But Yuki immediately chased your lips, sacrificing his back as he bent down.
His hands gripped your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin. When did he even pull open your shirt? You didn’t get to think with how eager he was kissing you. It felt like you were the inexperienced one with how easily he was taking control.
“Y-Yuki.” You managed to moan into his lips, pulling away to breathe. A giggle left you when he subconsciously chased after your lips again but you pressed a finger against his. “Wait a minute.”
It was different—but in a good way. You were always the one in control during make outs. People were the one to pull away after you made them breathless. It was exciting for it to be the opposite.
“Are you…?” You whispered, wanting to make sure.
Sure, you were a degenerate who liked having sex with virgins, but you always toned yourself down when you did. Treat them like glass unless stated otherwise was your motto!
Yuki hummed. “Virgin? Yeah.”
“Do you know how—?”
“—I’m a virgin, not an idiot.”
You pouted. “I was just checking. Your first time needs to be good.”
“It’s already good.” He whispered, a slight smirk on his lips when you looked away in embarrassment. “But it could be better.”
“Hm? Better how?”
For the first time ever, you saw Yuki’s lips pull into a full smirk. Oh no.
Oh no indeed…
In front of you on the bed was a dress. A cute dress. But a dress nonetheless. It was white with a black bow on the chest. Frilly ends on the sleeves. Paired with white stockings.
The outfit reminded you of something but you didn’t know what.
You dated a lot of people. You’ve done strange shit because of people’s kinks. This, was tame. You shuddered at the time you dressed like a dog. Not even just dog ears and a tail… a full on dog.
Honestly this was a breath of fresh air. So you huffed and slipped out of your clothes, putting on the outfit with ease. Hm, it fit perfectly. You briefly wondered if Yuki somehow had your measurements.
“I’m dressed, Yuki.” You called, slipping on the last stockings. There was a mirror on the closet door. You moved over and couldn’t help but twirl. The dress really was cute. You took in the detailing of the dress and noticed a slight stain on one of the sleeves. But how could it have gotten a stain? Did Yuki make other people wear this?
That left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just because he was a virgin didn’t mean he hadn’t fooled around before. Which you couldn’t judge. That was your reputation!
A pair of arms wrapped around your waist causing you to flinch. Yuki hummed as he looked at you from the mirror. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his face still stoic. But the way his hands gripped your waist and body as it trailed around you.
“It still fits.” He suddenly muttered. “I was worried you would’ve grown too much since then.”
“Huh? Grown?”
“You don’t remember it?” His hands gripped your waist as he easily spun you around to face him. “First year. School festival.”
Festival? You stared at him confused for a moment before gasping in disbelief. “No way! You kept this?! I thought I threw it out?!” You said, pulling at the fabric in pure shock.
In your first year, your class did a maid cafe, but instead of girls, it was boys as the maids. You played as the head maid because you looked more girlish compared to everyone when you wore the wig. It was fun but you didn’t see the use in keeping the dress after so you threw it up.
Apparently Yuki found it.
“You did. I just grabbed it before they took out the trash. I would’ve saved the wig too..” he muttered, a slight pout on his lips.
You couldn’t help the slight scoff leaving you. “Wig? Do you want me to be a girl?”
“No. You just looked… cute. I like cute things.” He said, shrugging. “You just look cuter feminine.”
“But I don’t even remember you at the festival.”
Yuki hummed. “How could you? I was shorter than you back then. But I remember you. The cute head maid flaunting his cute little dress in front of everyone.”
You blushed. “I wouldn’t say I flaunted it…”
“Really? I think you were a lot of guys awakening that day. So many eyes on you.” His hands tugged at the bottom of the skirt. “Hm, you grew in height. It’s much shorter now.”
You reached down and noticed that it was resting just at the end of your ass. Certainly shorter than in first year when it was closer to your knees. Well at least you can say you did have a growth spurt… just nothing compared to Yuki’s.
“So, you want to have sex with me in it?”
“Mhm. I’ve masturbated to you wearing it for years now.”
You sputtered in shock, watching as Yuki moved away to possibly grab a condom and lube. This Ito Yuki was nothing to the one you thought you knew back at school. The way he could say it so casually made you feel some type of way. But you couldn’t explain it.
Gosh, you’d assume you’re the virgin.
With a slight pep talk in your mind, you squared your shoulders and stormed over to Yuki. He looked over at you and tilted his head, opening his lips to ask something but you pushed him down on the bed. Though you had to use a lot of strength for that—jeez, how tough was he?
You straddled his hips and grinned, looking down at him. “Don’t worry, Yuki~! I’ll make your first time special.” You whispered, gently rubbing your ass against his growing bulge.
Yuki seemed to want to say something but you kissed him, helping him pull off his pants. You knew what to do. You’ve done this so many times it was practically second nature. When you slipped off his boxers, you almost whimpered at the sight.
It was bigger than any you’ve seen before. That stereotype of slender men having bigger dicks didn’t seem like an internet lie anymore. You wondered if it looked bigger when he was thinner and didn’t have the lean muscle he had now.
Shit.
“Are you ready for your first blowjob?” You asked, smirking slightly. You expected him to finally start acting like a blushing virgin but he looked more so bored? Huh?
“Another time. I wanna be in you.”
You felt your cheeks flush. He wanted you quickly, huh? That’s a first. There were even times guys just wanted a blowjob from you and nothing else. This was, interesting to say the least. You gave him a hum and pulled down your own boxers, pulling up the dress.
You felt his eyes zero in on your body as you grabbed the lube and squirt some on your fingers. This was the best. Having someone watch you as you got yourself ready for them. You didn’t waste anytime, easily slipping in two fingers inside your hole. A grunt left you but you kept going, easily stretching yourself out.
If Yuki wanted to be inside, he’d get it. Besides, who doesn’t like a little bit of pain?
The dress was sticking to your skin already and you hadn’t even got his cock inside you yet. It was thin and a bit cheap in material but it certainly knew how to make you warm.
You reached over and grabbed the condom on the nightstand, easily tearing it open with your teeth. The slight eyebrow raise from Yuki made you smirk. It was a habit that you gained from sleeping around so much. Also past partners said it was sexy so you kept doing it.
What works, works!
After finally slipping the condom onto his cock, which surprisingly fit, you moved up to level your ass with his cock. You gave him a slight smile and rest your hand on his chest.
“You can always tell me to stop, okay?” You whispered, making sure he heard you. Yuki only gave you a nod, a look of impatience in his eyes.
Not wanting to make him anymore restless, you wordlessly began to sink down onto his cock. A short gasp filled the room as your fingers gripped his shirt. He was huge but feeling it inside was a whole different experience. You haven’t slept with a guy in a minute so you certainly felt a bit nervous than normal.
But it was fine.
The sight of Yuki was pretty to say the least. He still had on his stupid glasses, the hello kitty pin that held back his bangs. His face was already sweaty while his lips pulled into a slight grimace.
Ah, you knew the face well.
You leaned in close to him—your noses touching.
“Good? It’ll get better from here.” You grinned, leaning back as you slowly rolled your hips.
Except it didn’t really..?
It had to have been maybe ten minutes and Yuki hadn’t cummed at all. You came once which was embarrassing since you weren’t used to cumming before your partners. But you thought maybe he was just nervous so you kept bouncing on his cock.
But by the ten minute mark, he looked bored.
You thought you were imagining it but no, you could tell he was zoning out. His eyes were focused on you but he wasn’t reacting. Even when you picked up the pace, he didn’t even grunt.
A wave of embarrassment mixed in with anger flared within you. You stilled your hips to a stop, finally earning Yuki’s attention as he blinked and actually paid attention to you.
“Seriously…” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “If I’m that boring, you take over!” You were so used to being in control that you actually didn’t want him to take over. Really you wanted to go home, fully embarrassed that in the first time in forever, your partner wasn’t satisfied.
The hands that once laid on your thighs without any grip slowly moved upwards, digging its’ nails into the free upper thigh that wasn’t covered by your knee socks. You let out a surprised grunt at the pain but you didn’t even get to say anything about it before they trail up and grip your waist.
A gasp leaves you when you feel his hips slam up into you.
“Wh—?”
Colors blur as you feel yourself be pushed down onto the bed, your head bouncing slightly from the fast movement. Your legs are grabbed and pushed up, almost knocking yourself in the face.
“Yuki..!” You managed to cry out at his manhandling but he doesn’t seem to care at the moment. You can only watch as he takes off the hair clip and carelessly tosses it away. His bangs fall over his eyes and to your dismay, you can’t see them this time.
Doesn’t help the bedroom is only lit by a small lamp on the nightstand. The shadows practically cover his upper face beside his lips. You can see a slight glint in his glasses but he soon removed them as well, gently resting them on the nightstand.
It’s weird. Your stomach starts to feel weird again. That same feeling when he pulled you close on Valentine’s Day. What was this?
A quick slap of skin bleeds into the room as your thoughts are jumbled before you could even think. You could’ve sworn you heard a cry—like a high pitched voice. Was that?
Yeah, it was you.
Your back arched as Yuki slammed his cock inside you in a constant rhythm. There was cries and whimpers coming straight from you in tandem with his thrusts. You’ve never sounded like this before—you didn’t even think you could make a sound like this.
Your eyes began to water as you pressed your hand against your lips, wanting to muffle the new strange sounds coming.
“Hey…” Yuki’s thrusting slowed down as he reached over and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away. “Did I say you can do that?” His fingers tightened around your wrist, earning a slight squeak from you in pain.
A laugh filled the room. A boyish smile appearing on Yuki’s lips. He looked so scary like this. No eyes for you to look in. Just the sight of his lips being your only way of knowing how he’s feeling.
“You’re so cute. Like a little hamster.”
“H..Hamster..?”
“Mhm.” His thrusting began again, filling the room with the sounds of squelching and skin slapping. “Cute little hamster. Squishy.”
“Squish—!”
A whimper left you as your toes curled. Shit, you were cumming already?! You let out a grunt and turned your head to the side, wanting to just bury it in the soft bedsheets beneath you.
“Two already.” Yuki said absentmindedly, his hands releasing your thighs as he slowed down his thrusting. You glanced over at him, seeing his hands trail up your body. They were veiny. Larger than yours. He could hold both of your wrists with one hand. You shuddered at the thought.
“Don’t make fun of me.” You whispered, hoping he would just cum already.
Yuki hummed. “I’m making fun of you?” He asked, genuinely confused. You wish you could see his eyes—just to see a glimpse into what he’s thinking. But all you get a little smile.
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m keeping count.” His hands reached the top of your collar, slowly tightening around it. You hummed, wondering what he was about to do. “So I can give you more next time.”
“Give me more?”
“Mhm.”
The sound of fabric tearing caught your attention as you glanced down and saw your dress being torn apart by Yuki’s hands. It started off slow, as if he was fighting the seams before easily pulling it apart once he reached the middle.
A strangled moan left you at the show of strength. Oh man. How could you survive any longer with this guy?
“Yuki!”
“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He said, leaning down as he pressed kisses on your bare skin. Your toes curled as you gripped at the bed sheets beneath you. “I’ll buy you prettier dresses.”
A breathy whimper left your lips. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Why wouldn’t there be? You’re my boyfriend.” He pulled out his cock and easily flipped you to rest on the side of your stomach. He plopped down behind you and raised one of your legs, slotting himself easily back into your tight heat.
“Y… You actually like me..?” You muttered, gasping as he begins a slow and steady pace, resting his chin on your shoulder.
Yuki simply hummed. “I wanna fuck you. We can talk later.” He said bluntly. You shrieked as he captured your lips into a kiss and began fucking you in a harsh pace.
The sounds of skin slapping and your muffled moans filled the room. Your fingers digging into the bed while his dug into your skin. There was a slight burn on your thighs and you weren’t sure if he possibly broke your skin from just how hard he gripped you.
You pulled away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath when you noticed why Yuki had put you in this position. The fucking mirror.
Damn pervert.
You couldn’t really hide yourself, not with his arm holding you up. All you could do was kiss him again, not having to see your fucked out expression. It didn’t take long for you to reach another orgasm with ease, the cum coating your stomach in a sight of white liquid.
A whimper left your sore throat as Yuki maneuvered you to rest on your knees as he continued fucking into you. Finally, you buried your face into the sheets, biting them to muffle your moans.
“I’m close. Just a little more, (Name)-Chan.”
Yuki let out a surprised grunt when he felt you tighten around his cock. You whimpered in embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut. No way. No way that your body just did that.
A slight chuckle left Yuki as he draped his chest against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. “So cute, (Name)-Chan.” With that, he pulled away and gripped your hips as he chased his own release. It didn’t take too long, his grunts mixing in with your cries.
His hips slammed against your ass as he groaned, finally reaching his orgasm. You hummed before feeling something wet coat your insides. Yuki pulled away and hummed.
“It broke.”
You turned around, seeing him hold a broken condom. “It broke?!” You cried, moving to sit up only to wince in pain. “Yuki… why are you so calm?!”
“It’s fine. It looks pretty.” He said, pointing at the cum slowly leaking from your ass.
“Pervert!”
“Mhm.” He pushed up his sweaty bangs and sighed, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Shower?”
“Yeah. Uhm, are we… a couple?”
“Yeah.” He got off the bed and leaned over to you, a slight smirk on his lips. “I’m the only man you can be a slut for from now on.”
“I’m not a slut!”
Yuki only gave you a shrug before walking away to start the bath. Well, it looked like you weren’t a playboy anymore.
But it felt good.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
First fic back!! Way longer than it needed to be… hope yall like Yuki. I kinda want to make him into a full OC, but I’ll see.
Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @ofclyde @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @smellwell @love-kha1 @star-3214 @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world
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greenglowinspooks · 1 year ago
Text
To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound
Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.
He can see ghosts.
The ghosts know this.
Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.
Except for this one very stubborn dog.
It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?
And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.
He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.
Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.
Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.
Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.
Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.
And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.
(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)
Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.
Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.
And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.
(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)
Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.
Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.
Cue shitstorm.
Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?
Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.
Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.
Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.
Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.
Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.
Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!
Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.
You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?
Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.
He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.
And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.
The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.
Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.
A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.
Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.
And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.
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